Duck & Waffle

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Dear bearded beauty,

How unexpected life throws you from a seemingly distraught morning where you rush your ever late sister towards the restaurant you had previously despised; the restaurant upon which you showered blogospheric hell-fire for keeping you hungry for 40 minutes then sending you away, bellies empty and growling.  What was a simple mission to see whether the hype was any worth, turned into so much more.

LocationDuck & Waffle, Aldgate, London

Head chef: Daniel Doherty & Tom Cenci

Cuisine: British (Breakfast)

Camera: iPhone 6 (I know, the quality of my pictures has suffered lately)

The ears popped as the elevator rose us among the clouds, where the restaurant had laid its nest. The place was unexpectedly empty at around 10 am on a Friday, pockets of tourists and business men populating some of the tables. We managed to order quite a few different dishes to see what’s what with this place.

The menu had a very delightful section with “sides”, that included two organic eggs (any style) for just 3£, which is a bit of a steal and a great way for people on a high-caloric diet to add up those proteins. The staff was rather taken aback when, having brought the eggs and distributed them to other people, I announced them all 4 eggs were actually mine. Really… it’s not even that many. They were poached well, bonus points for technical ability. The Duck Egg en Cocotte were scrumptiously truffly, or so I’ve heard, because someone ate them all before I could taste them.

The smallest rant about brewing tea: some restaurants decide that when I order tea, what I really want is for them to bring me a bag of Twinning or less, over which they have poured hot water and let me play the “try to figure out how long the tea has been soaking” game. I don’t dislike this because I’m a snob (which I am, but has nothing to do with this), but because teas have a specified brewing time for a reason. After 5 minutes (typically for black tea), it starts overbrewing which makes the tea taste bitter. If I leave it for too little, I basically drink flavored water, not tea. Since I don’t know how long you’ve let the tea in the pot for… you get the idea.

My dearest eyecandy, that was the moment, approximately, in which you decided to come with your mates and sat right across my field of vision, so I can stare in peace whilst pretending I’m not. Your wonderful beard, your blond curls. This was the beginning of a beautiful love story.

Until our table descended into a verbal brawl over house cleaning issues.

Grade: Sainthood

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