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Sarmoung
Elsewhere Radio Orchestrar / Flickr December 2008
 
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November 9th, 2004
Tuesday, November 9th, 2004 10:21 am

I find myself going to a Joanna Newsom concert. Better still, I'm going to the concert with Joanna Newsom, although she claims no knowledge of the music. Unfortunately, once we're at the concert, she sits down on the ground to watch the show and starts saying things like "I mean, folk music, whatever..." and it becomes clear that actually it's not Joanna at all but a drunken former girlfriend. At which point, these other characters appear and the dream becomes a dark conspiracy about chainsaw symbolism and sacrificial blood victims.

I awake. Shuffle to the kitchen. Every once in a while, there's a dream that reminds. Not the drunken girlfriend, but the being with someone. Early light over the overgrown back garden. The leaf colour now lies on the ground. I make some coffee, except there's hardly any left, so I mix it with chicory and pretend I'm under rationing. New Orleans would be better, but it's hard to imagine in this light.

And why is there no coffee? Because those northern monkeys have taken over the supermarket. Over the weeks, the selections narrow and vanish and we're left with, well, what the hell is a steak teviot anyway? If it's coffee you want, you'll want Kenco or own brand. Okay, they've still got some tins of Illy remaining, but at £4.53 for 250g, I'll get it elsewhere. It's looking ever more the cut-price chain it is. Well, naff of to Islington then, you cøunt. Looks like I might have to at this rate.

Given the poverty of the Morrisons choice, I'm left with some other options for the supermarket. It's either walking to Tesco's in Seven Sisters or jumping the bus down to Waitrose on the Holloway Rd. I can't knock the choice in Watirose, but it just makes me... it just feels wrong somehow. As if I'm doing something untoward.

Fortunately, a new food shop is opening in Stamford Hill and it's only thirty seconds from the front door on Holmdale Terrace. The weeks of shop-fitting completed, the sign is in place, it only has to open. It's called Smakosz which means gourmet, I think. Poliish. So at least there should be some reasonable bread and sausage available. The loaf I bought from Morrison's yesterday, supposedly pain levain, had a Hovis sticker hiding on it. It just felt wrong.

Nope, what with the fruit and veg at Fresh and Fruity, the Jewish delicatessens and the chance for pierogi and rye bread at the new place, it's only really the coffee that needs sorting.

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