Spooning with Rosie


My friends are self-confessed foodies, who’s favourite past-time is to try to outdo one another with incredible dishes made from the very best free-range, organic, non-GM, home-grown ingredients. The fact that I have destroyed my tastebuds with years of Cutters Choice, or that I can only really manage to throw together a chilli con carne, doesn’t seem to put them off including me in the invites, so I get all the benefits of their expertise, without having to spend anytime learning anything. I think that might be what real friends are for.
On Thursday night, we went along to Rosie’s, in Brixton Market, for an evening where Rosie books out all the tables, and feeds her customers whatever it is that she has decided to cook. We sit at church hall tables, on chairs that don’t match. The table cloth (eventually coloured by our BYO bottle of Merlot) is white and doily-like. The plates and bowls look happy together, but aren’t from the same parentage. It is a comfortable, friendly experience. Rosie greets us – a small, blonde bundle of cool – before heading to the kitchen to prepare. When we finish our main course, she asks if we’d like seconds, and brings the boys another plate of chicken, couscous and beans. The food is homely and warming. The wine we’ve brought goes down a little too easily for a school night. The company is near perfect, and I am happy.


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