Meet the Producers: NBC

Since the Natural Bread Company opened their latest cafe just a 30-second walk from my office, I’ve been in regularly for coffee and sandwiches, so I’d almost forgotten that NBC are not just a single cafe but a brilliant producer, supplying farmers’ markets and restaurants across Oxford and the surrounding area. So I popped in a couple of weeks ago to chat to Charlotte and Charlie, the current managers, to find out a bit more about what they do and why they do it!

The very first hint of what was to become NBC came in 2006, when Charlotte’s mum, Claire, started baking cakes to supply to their local Appleton farmers’ market. Charlotte’s dad, Will, quickly realised he wanted in on the act, too, and in 2007 he started baking bread to supply alongside those cakes. The production was initially very small-scale (just Will in his garage), but they quickly expanded to cover other farmers’ markets in East Oxford (where I first found them!) and Wolvercote.

However, the first large expansion came in 2012, when they opened a shop in Eynsham and started selling hundreds of loaves a week, alongside a growing range of cakes and pastries created by Claire. The next year, they opened in Woodstock and paired up with HasBean coffee roasters so that they could run a cafe alongside the shop; just a few months later they opened their Little Clarendon cafe and shop. They now bake over 4,000 loaves every week, sold through their shops, various farmers’ markets, and direct to local restaurants including 1855, the Mogford empire, The Magdalen Arms, coffee fiend favourites Quarter Horse and The Missing Bean, and the Vaults and Garden.

Those not familiar with the rules of sourdough baking will be amazed to find that they’re still using the same “starter” - the yeast mother from which each loaf is born - as they did in 2007. That’s one of the elements of what makes their bread taste so great: the variety of yeasts all create slightly different compounds as they break down the flour, leading to a much richer tasting bread. The only exception to this starter rule is for their “Pugliese” loaf, baked with durum flour from a starter over 70 years old, shipped in from Italy by Will a few years ago.

Then there’s the flour. NBC decided early on that they were more interested in working with a local company, with whom they could build a relationship, than with an overseas company who might meet other sustainable aims, like producing organically-certified flour. They chose to work with Wessex Mill, based in Wantage, who in turn buy their wheat from a variety of local farms with whom they have personal longstanding relationships. Those relationships mean that NBC can be quite precise about exactly what flour they source for each individual type of bread.

After the starter and the flour, all the bread needs is water, salt, and time. Charlotte emphasised to me how important that last of those is: all their loaves rise for a minimum of 24 hours. The average supermarket loaf, on the other hand, is given less than an hour. The slowness of the rise, along with the variety of yeasts mentioned earlier, results in a much deeper flavour. The breads vary in the exact processes they go through before baking - their dark rye loaf needs more kneading, for example - but the aim through all the processes is to increase the flavour of the final loaf.

Having spent the last three years in solid expansion mode, NBC are now taking a year or two to settle back and, as Charlie says, to have a bit of a play with various new ideas! They’ve already imported a specialist cold-brewing machine for coffee from Canada, which I can testify makes an amazing iced coffee. On the other hand, they’re keen to keep doing what they do best. The Far Breton, an almost custardy prune cake, has been on the menu since 2006, and isn’t going to go anywhere!

Best for... outside dining

As I write this, another single day of vague sunshine has slowly declined into another grey Monday, and it’s increasingly looking like we’re in line for another delightful British summer. But on the off chance that we do get some balmy days, the last thing you want is to be stuck inside when eating out. I’ve found Oxford to be fairly lacking in restaurants with nice outside areas (I blame the colleges and their gorgeous quads, sucking up all the nice green enclosed spaces!), but here are a few of my top choices:

I’m a sucker for a good roof terrace, and at the time of writing the only one in Oxford belongs to the Ashmolean Dining Rooms. Admittedly, the views are mainly into the bedrooms of the Randolph, rather than of dreaming spires, but it’s better than nothing. Most of the time the Dining Rooms are only a lunchtime venue, but on Fridays and Saturdays you can sip cocktails and then watch the sun set as you eat. After a recent menu nadir, angled a little too closely at the Museum’s average elderly visitor, they seem to have had a refresh and are now offering a pleasant Mediterranean-inspired menu.

Quod is light, airy, and summery even in the depths of winter, and with their front windows open the main restaurant can feel like eating outside. But, hidden away at the rear, they have a fabulous little suntrap terrace, west-facing to catch dinnertime sunrays. It’s never the most reliable venue for food, but the drinks are excellent, the atmosphere is elegant, and service is some of the most charming I’ve had. Stick to the bistro classics (crab mayonnaise; steak; fish cakes) and you should be fine.

I wouldn’t normally recommend one Mogford venue, but I’m about to recommend a second within a single article, because I cannot talk about outside dining without mentioning the delicious, wisteria-smothered front terrace of the Old Parsonage. The pain of the frankly extortionate prices (£17 for a chicken and bacon pie?) is nearly entirely ameliorated by the quiet monastic hush, the scent of the flowers, and the fawning waitresses. They’re also quite happy to let you sit there with just a pot of tea, should the food be properly beyond your budget.

A paved area does not a pub garden make. But the one at the Jericho Tavern it is large, and sunny, and therefore fits in nicely here. Regulars of the Royal Oak or the Cape of Good Hope will recognise the menu, although it is usually better executed here than at its sister pubs, and the drinks tend to be a quid cheaper too. Probably one of the best for Friday after-work summertime drinks that might turn into dinner/more drinks/3 a.m. taxis home.

On Osney Island, the calm and the river can make it feel like you’re in the countryside, so the small concreted back garden of The Punter seems a little more romantic and outdoorsy than it might do elsewhere. The menu features the usual pub classics, but I’m keener on the more adventurous dishes: at the moment they’re advertising an aubergine soup, merguez sausages, and vine-leaf-wrapped sea bass. Not all on one plate, obviously. It’s really not that far from the town centre, but always seems to be quiet, so you’re basically guaranteed a seat in the sun.

The canteen-style dining offered by Vaults & Garden is not always the most tempting, particularly given its echoing interior and tiny little tables in regimented rows. But in summer, the “garden” element comes into its own, enabling you to sit just next to Radcliffe Square whilst you lunch, admiring the Camera and taking the piss out of tourists. Steer clear of the congealed pre-cooked rarebits and go for their nourishing health-food mains: the goat’s cheese and lentil gratin is a particular favourite.

Portabello has only a slim terrace to offer as outside dining, but on the thoroughfare of South Parade, it can sometimes seem to punch far above its size, providing a full view over the comings and goings at the other venues on the road. The mass of heaters also ensures that the season and time for eating here is significantly longer than at other places: still outside at 10 a.m. in April? No problem! The menu is starting to age, with a few too many 1990s influences hanging about, but for meat-based classics it’s still reliable.

It barely has an outside seating area (I’m not convinced by a couple of rickety chairs in the middle of a road), but with its massive windows open, Kazbar feels remarkably like sitting in a souk in Marrakech. Except with added alcohol! Most of the customers (usually including me) are focussed on those drinks, and the cocktail and wine lists should certainly be thoroughly explored, but the food is also excellent: Spanish tapas with the occasional North African excursion, often featuring ingredients which I haven’t tried. One of the best for making you feel as if it’s actually summertime.

Best for... sandwiches

The first thing that needs to be said about Oxford’s sandwich supplies is: stay away from the chains. There are plenty of branches of Costa in central Oxford, and if you want over-priced under-filled pap I highly recommend them, but let’s talk REAL sandwiches here: great bread, generous fillings, interesting combinations. A desk-based lunch need never be dull again.

Top of the list is the ever-brilliant, ever-changing Olives (42 High Street, Oxford OX1 4AP). Their everyday selection of baguettes is brilliant enough, stuffed to the brink with the finest of fillings: superb freshly sliced parma ham or salami, buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes that actually taste of something, but their weekly specials is where they really show off. The rare roast beef, blue cheese, roast onion and rocket baguette is generally reckoned to lead the field, but there’s always something interesting on offer. I once even spotted them stuffing baguettes with huge chunks of lobster and garlic mayo. On top of that, they’re a decent deli, and if you pop in and choose a bottle of wine at lunchtime, they’ll have it chilled for you by the time you leave work in the evening. 

Bread is often under-recognised as an important element in a sandwich: too many people are willing to accept a basic brown/white choice with no further questions asked. That’s the reverse of the situation at the relatively new Natural Bread Company’s Companion cafe, on Little Clarendon Street. As you’d expect from the makers of the best bread in Oxford, the focus here is on the gorgeous crusty rolls, chewy and slightly sour, but the fillings ain’t bad either. Last time I visited, the soft goat’s cheese was deliciously ripe and creamy, and the roasted vegetables actually had little charred bits on them: a far cry from the soggy mess of steamed aubergine served in many cafes. They also make an amazing coffee, with a choice of two different beans always on.

Good bread is also at the core of the offerings at the Organic Deli Cafe on Friar’s Entry, where they also make their own bread. Their range of vegetarian fillings is particularly impressive (butternut squash and brie, anyone), and all their meats are free-range at least, if not organic too. My favourite is the “Free Range”: roughly hewn slices of chicken breast with a deeply savoury homemade basil pesto and sweet sundried tomatoes. This is for those days when you are really, really, hungry. They also have a small selection of vegan groceries.

On the other hand, the next two places focus firmly on fillings, cramming them into the smallest possible amount of flatbread required to transport them to your mouth. LB’s (253 Banbury Rd, Oxford OX2 7HN) do the most dangerous garlic and tahina sauces I’ve tasted in Oxford: I’ve been known to lick the paper their sandwiches are wrapped in to make sure I don’t miss any. Order the chicken or lamb shwarma wraps, stuffed with marinated smoky grilled meat, crunchy salad, and drizzled with plenty of those sauces before being gently warmed through. Then try not to order the baklava unless you like looking like Mr Creosote.

Najar’s on St Giles might look like a small newspaper hut, but there’s a reason why the owners have been made honourary members of the Balliol JCR, and it’s not their range of magazines. Selling possibly the best falafel in Oxford (in a close tie with Al Shami), you could just take them away as they are, but for best results get them in a pitta with hummus and tahina. Just keep nodding when they ask you about the massive range of extras they will offer you.

Finally, it doesn’t exactly count as a sandwich, but one of the best treats on a sunny day in Oxford is to grab a baguette and take a trip to the Oxford Cheese Shop in the Covered Market. Let the guys behind the till know what types of cheese you normally like, or what flavours you fancy that day, and they’ll talk you through various different options, tasting as you go. Once you’ve settled on a couple (or more, if you’re greedy), add some of their chutney and amazing butter, take the lot off to University Parks, and munch contentedly.

Best for... Vegetarians

My safe bet whenever visiting a new city and looking for vegetarian food is to head for the nearest Indian. You wouldn’t go terribly wrong following the same principle in Oxford: all its Indian restaurants serve up the usual collection of vegetable and paneer dishes. However, none of them quite make this list, with their offerings being average at best; as the majority are in fact Pakistani or Bangladeshi rather than Indian, they don’t come with quite as much of a cultural background of non-meat-eating as you might get elsewhere in Britain.

The one exception to this is Yeti, which is actually a Nepalese. Alongside a range of Indian classics they have some exciting Nepalese dishes, including some vegetarian offerings. Try out any jackfruit, plantain, or bamboo dish.

For those looking for more variety though, here’s a rundown of our favourite venues in Oxford with great vegetarian offerings.

Best for… breakfast: OxFork

39 Magdalen Road, Oxford OX4 1RB

OxFork make a fantastic breakfast anyway, but I think you actually get a better offering here as a vegetarian than you do as a meat-eater. Alongside the standard veggie full English (beans, mushrooms, eggs, toast, spinach, bubble and squeak) they also always have on a veggie all-American (pancakes, eggs, halloumi and maple syrup) and a wide selection of eggs-on-toast items. I had their veggie special last time, which was one of the best breakfasts I’ve ever eaten: roasted purple sprouting broccoli, eggs, wild spinach potato cake, mushroom pate on toast and beans).

Service is charming but sometimes a little slow, so order your first coffee as soon as you’re seated, and the second when the first arrives, in order to avoid any dangerous un-caffeinated breaks.

Best with… a big group: Al-Shami

25 Walton Crescent, Oxford OX1 2JG

Al-Shami easily made it onto the Bitten Top 10. But it’s with a group of vegetarians, or even vegans, that it really comes into its own. The best thing to do is to order a selection of mezze between a group of people, aiming for 2-3 dishes per person, and then let everyone dive in and sample the diversity. Only four of the cold mezze dishes aren’t vegetarian, and nearly half the hot mezze are vegetarian. I’d particularly recommend the falafel, the crunchiest I’ve ever had, and the cauliflower in sesame dressing, which coincidentally are two of their vast range of vegan offerings.

An interesting wine list, including Lebanese wine by the glass, thick and aromatic coffee, and superb baklava will complete an excellent evening out.

Best for... those missing meat: Pink Giraffe

43b St. Clements St, Oxford OX4 1AG

Those sensible Buddhists. Realising that, although vegetables are lovely, people often like some interestingly textured protein with their meal, they’ve spent centuries perfecting the art of crafting tofu to look like meat. Pink Giraffe, alongside a somewhat less tempting regular all-you-can-eat deal, serve almost their entire regular menu in parallel, but vegetarian versions. The crispy duck, with the usual pancakes and trimmings, was an absolute life-saver for me recently.

Service is friendly and the rather small size of the restaurant means that it always feels cozy. The wine list and desserts are nothing to write home about, but then, they’re not what you’re here for.

Best when… dining with carnivores: Atomic Burger

96 Cowley Rd, Oxford OX4 1JE

I am told that there are unreconstructed human beings out there who just can’t contemplate a meal without a massive hunk of red meat in the middle of the plate. For times when you’re going out for dinner with such people, Atomic Burger is your best bet. They can have a hunk of meat topped with at least two other hunks of meat, and the chips topped with meat, and you can smugly order one of their veggie burgers plus one of their wide range of vegetarian toppings. The Frito Bandito and the Johnny Cash come particularly highly recommended.

It’s also worth noting that, if you ask for it without the bacon garnish, the Baconator milkshake is vegetarian...

Best for… lunch: Alpha Bar

89 The Market, Oxford OX1 3EF

A world away from the cheese sandwich based offerings of most cafes (that wide range of cheddar, mozzarella, and goat’s cheese always available…) Alpha Bar in the Covered Market make delicious healthy salads that mostly just happen to be vegetarian. Choose your size, choose a couple of fresh raw salads, and then add some cheese or falafel. Seeds also added for those of you on serious Gillian McKeith-style health kicks.

Best when… on a date: Door 74

74 Cowley Rd, Oxford OX4 1JB

Door 74 is one of the most romantic places we know in Oxford, and luckily it always has some interesting vegetarian dishes on. The menu is short, so options are limited, but I’ve never seen the standard mushroom risotto sneaking on to it. Instead you’ll find carrot fritters, beetroot risotto, spinach and feta pie or griddled polenta, but the menu also changes regularly based on season and the chef’s latest ideas, so you should always find something exciting to eat. Low lighting, candles, and unobtrusive service make this a gorgeous evening out.

Restaurant Review: The Rusty Bicycle

I love exercise. Oh, I'm sorry, you may have misunderstood that: I don't like it when I do exercise. I like it when other people do exercise, and then demand I go for a massive pub lunch with them afterwards. That's why exercise is so great.

My partner and a couple of friends had run the Oxford Town and Gown (10,000 metres! Madness.) one Sunday morning, and so we embarked on a search for a pub which served lunch, on a Sunday, that wasn't a Sunday lunch. It's not that we object to a roast, but  I've never had a good one whilst eating out and, anyway, I'm told that running that far requires something a bit more casual and face-stuffing than some thinly carved meat and a couple of veg. And so we hit on the Rusty Bicycle, sister of my beloved Rickety Press, and one of the nearest pubs to our house. Somehow, we rarely end up there: it's small and popular, so often difficult to get a seat, and as you can't book a table it's not tempting to trek there and then have to go somewhere else for our tea. We were surprised, then, to find it fairly empty on a Sunday lunchtime: are all the normal locals still sleeping off their hangovers at that time?

There was some serious menu consideration whilst they compared how sore their muscles were, but two of the runners went straight for the fish finger sandwiches, and couldn't be persuaded to choose something different, even when I pointed out how difficult it makes writing a review when two people order the same dish. This is nursery food, comforting but simple, but the Rusty Bike turned it into something sublime. There were homemade fish goujons, crisp (with panko breadcrumbs, perhaps?) outside and moist within. There were mushy peas, not the ubiquitous minted pea puree, actually within the sandwich. There was a leaf of crunchy little gem sat over a slick of chunky homemade tartare sauce. This was the Platonic fish finger sandwich, the one you'll be served in heaven.

It came (as any good fish finger sandwich should) with chips. Good chips, but not as good as the ones I had at The Rickety Press - why can't they import them?! These were fine, but the wave of disappointment was too much to bear.

The other runner chose the Angry Texan burger, a feast of protein perfect for post-race recovery, which Jacqui has raved about before. I would have chosen it too, but with two people already choosing the same dish, I had to make some sacrifice for my readers. I regretted it the instant the burger arrived: at least six inches high, this was heaving with all my favourite things: cheese, bacon, *pulled pork*... The only downside of this burger is that you do need a knife and fork to eat it: hands will not work here. Even the details are perfect: serving the gherkin on the side, rather than in the burger. That way people who don't like them can leave them out, and people who do like them can have a little nibble after each bite of burger, cleansing the palate perfectly.

I had heard rumours of a new pizza range (with witty names like "The Notorious P.I.G."), so had to choose one of those for my lunch. I was particularly intrigued to find them using a sourdough base: I'd been trying to make pizza with my sourdough starter for a few months with not much success, so wanted to see how the professionals managed it. It was, of course, very much better than my efforts, crisp and charred and just wilting in the centre under the toppings. I went for the mushroom option, with plenty of garlic oil and just a little parmesan to season, topped with lots of fresh rocket, and got one of the freshest tasting pizzas I've ever encountered. It was even perfectly sized (those with larger appetites will want to order a side with it), meaning I could crunch my way through every last bit of crust.

We finished with Ue coffees all round; there's an insanely tempting list of puddings (salted caramel slice: drool) but we were all left full from our mains. We left replete and happy and wondering why the hell we don't spend every Sunday doing this. The eating, of course, not the running. That would be silly.

Restaurant review: Qumins

The first thing you notice at Qumins is the size of the menu. What, no list of twenty-odd "classics", all available with any meat, fish or vegetable of your choice, all served mild, medium, or hot to your taste? How will the average Brit cope?

We stuck to script to start with: poppadoms and chutneys whilst we decided what to order. The chutneys barely went with it though, being exceptionally good. The mango chutney was properly fruity; the tomato chutney had a bitter bite from onion seeds; the onions in the fresh chutney had been salted, or sugared, or maybe both, to make them less angry and more floppy, all the better to drape over a crisp shard of fried dough. It all went very well with a cocktail (hang on: cocktails at an Indian? Something wrong here), chosen from a list which actually complements the food: a couple of fruity fizzy options and a couple of herby mojito-style drinks. The wine list, too, offered some sensible choices, including the oily Gewurztraminer that I chose. There's beer, too, if you want to be a bit more trad.

We skipped the interesting starter list (possibly a mistake: I'm still regretting not having tried the spiced sardine pasty), so once we'd munched our poppadoms I dove straight into the Marathi Lamb Steak Korma. It wasn't a lamb steak, actually, it was a shank, but I'm certainly not complaining. There was an absolutely massive amount of meat on my plate, spoonably tender, swimming in a highly fragrant, and not over-sweet, sauce. The menu says that this is the way Korma is cooked in Bangladesh, and if that's true, I'd like a word with whoever invented the vastly inferior British version and decided to give it the same name. The flavour of cinnamon and cloves had penetrated the meat right down to the bone, and the flavour of the meat ran right through the sauce: this was the product of lots of marinading and slow cooking, not a pre-cooked meat; pre-cooked sauce; combine jobby.

My partner went for the slightly more regular-sounding Chicken Rhogan (I'm unclear why it's lost the "high heat", the "josh", from its name, but has kept the "oil", the "rhogan"), from the "Traditional" section of the menu. Admittedly there IS a "Traditional" section of the menu, but it really is much smaller than in most restaurants. It was admittedly milder than you would get in most high street Indian restaurants, but still very highly flavoured. The chicken was breast meat, which I'm normally wary of in curries; there's a tendency to overcook it to the point of dryness. This, though, came in large chunks, so was still moist inside.

A side of Saag Dal was a little salty, and contained much more dal than saag. It didn't feel quite as nourishing as versions I've had elsewhere, and was a little too liquid for my taste: dunking a naan into it just resulted in a moist naan, rather than a naan with actual lentils or spinach on it. That naan was a peshwari, our standard order, and was an excellent example of its genre, not too sweetened. They clearly have some proper equipment in the kitchen, too: it was deliciously charred in some spots but fluffy elsewhere.

We considered ordering dessert, but this was where Qumin's let us down most seriously, presenting us with a menu of unexciting, pre-prepped, frozen sundaes. India has a great tradition of sweet making: where is the Indian restaurant in Oxford that will show us Brits some of that?

Qumins claims to cook homestyle Indian food, and in doing so they've placed themselves considerably ahead of most Indians in Oxford. It wasn't a perfect meal, but it was pretty close and I'll certainly be back, not least for the intriguing vegetarian options (chickpea flour and yoghurt curry, anyone?). It's stylish and welcoming but, most importantly, the food is just damn good.

Restaurant review: The Rickety Press

It took me a very long time, after first being employed, to get the hang of long lunches. Some puritanical streak within me forced me to bring in my own sandwiches or soups almost every day, for nigh on four years. For a real treat, I would occasionally allow myself a sandwich purchased from a nearby deli. Oh, how things have changed.

I am now a seasoned practitioner of the long lunch. It's such a healthy thing to do: take an hour and a half out of your day; see a friend; eat good food; return to work happy. When a friend, in something of a blue funk anyway, mentioned she'd never been to the Rickety Press, I immediately prescribed a lunch.

At the time of the visit, they had a rather nice little lunch menu at £12.50 for two courses, or £15 for three. I went for a starter and a main course from that menu, but with only three options for each course, my companion decided to order a la carte instead. I don't normally order soup in restaurants (it's one of those things I feel I can do better myself), but as the only veggie starter on the set menu, I was happy to break this rule for a minted pea soup. Except, when it arrived, it was the truffled cauliflower soup from the a la carte menu that arrived. Even better, as far as I was concerned. It was slightly too wintery for the sunny day we ate on, but wonderfully heady with truffle oil. It felt nourishing, whilst still being rather decadently creamy.

Revealing that there's been something of a gap between the meal and this review, my dining partner ordered a plate of some of the season's first asparagus, served with a hollandaise sauce. The sauce was truly superb, both rich and buttery and sharp and citrussy, and was served in a generous enough quantity for me to spend quite some time wiping her plate with my finger. It was, admittedly, slightly pricey for just a few spears, but then it was very early in the season.

Due to the soup mix-up, I ended up also having cauliflower for my main, but this did provide the kitchen with a convenient opportunity to show their versatility, for the two dishes could not have been more different. There was a giant slab of roast cauliflower in the middle of the plate, charred and sweet, hiding a heap of purple sprouting broccoli, and some lightly crushed new potatoes in a lemony mustardy dressing. The cauliflower was a revelation even to an established roast-cauliflower lover like me: I'd scoffed when people had told me about the "cauliflower steak" concept but this actually did manage to replicate some of the flavours you'd get from a good steak. The iron-rich sprouting helped, although roasting had left it slightly tough.

Across the table was a smoked haddock and salmon fishcake, and yes, the singular pronoun is the correct one. This was a massive beast of a fishcake, hulking in the middle of the bowl, dwarfing the poor little assorted salad leaves around it. It was so huge that the little dish of tartare had to be served on the side. It was generously filled, too, with a good ratio of fish-to-potato, but I think I would have preferred the better crunch-to-mush ratio of normal sized fishcakes.

However, the real highlight of the meal was the chips. There was some confusion as to whether they would even be ordered, with the waiter first recommending them, and then suggesting just a vegetable side instead. Then there was a debate about whether to order the "fries" or the triple cooked chips. We plumped for the fries. I'm not a thick chips person. And then the triple cooked chips arrived anyway.

What a relief, for these were easily the best chips I've ever had. Huge, crunchy shards, you might think to look at them that there would be too much soft interior, but the kitchen had somehow managed to cook them so that the outer crisp layer was a good centimetre thick. Some of them were *only* crisp layer. And the portion was massive: you could easily just order a side of these for lunch, and leave a very happy person.

To complete the occasion, we ordered prosecco, and were beyond delighted to have it served in 1920s-style shallow glasses. Why do more places not have such class? The service, mostly, lived up to that standard: despite being occasionally muddled, they were charming in a highly professional manner. Seated in the front of the pub, the decor was almost too casual for the food and drink, but better the bustle there than the silence of the linen-tableclothed restaurant proper at the back. We departed, as we should be, happy.