S. Worthen | Weblog

Among the airy arches which support the tracks of London Bridge railway station is a thriving market, open Fridays and Saturdays. It's crowded with stalls and booths set up among a half-hearted maze of green metal fences, a measure of angularity which means that the paths and the stalls are defined by irregular geometry. The vendors are laden with organic greens, wild boar meat, fresh venison, unusual beers, exotic oils, freshly baked breads, and handmade confectionary. A truffle vendor has come from Italy to sell his wares here. One stall specializes in Spanish foods, including freshly-shaved serrano ham and membrillo, or quince paste. Another specializes in Tunisian fare. This is the Borough Market, in existence since the eighteenth century, but lately renewed by physical renovations and the publicity accompanying the recent craze for high-quality food, driven by the British celebrity chef phenomenon.

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• I am very proud of my sister: she was recently accepted into a salsa dancing troupe.
  
• I tried cooking pad thai tonight for the first time and learned quite a bit about tofu and noodles. I now aspire to owning a good non-stick flat-bottomed wok.
  
• The Canary Wharf Waitrose is a strange and unintuitively organized store. My search for tofu gathered up three of the store's staff, all of whom also wished to know where it was kept.
  
• All the teaspoons in the apartment have vanished into the ether. It is a mystery.
  
• I am now a happy possessor of a copy of Conrad's Fate, the most recent Diana Wynne Jones novel.
  
• Heard on Radio 2 moments ago: Mark Radcliffe is interviewing Simon Armitage, who, discussing accents and travel between the UK and the US, quoth: "There is an equivalent between Yorkshire and Iowa. We seem to get along fine." No wonder I felt at home in York.