A little while ago, I met my good friend E in town. As we hadn’t seen each other for a while, we’d decided to take advantage of the gorgeous weather to visit Oxford Street and do some shopping. When lunchtime came I found out, to my great surprise, that E had never experienced the delights of Selfridge’s Brass Rail Brasserie.
Coming back to simple pleasures, this one is one of my favourites. Explaining the choices to E, I salivated in anticipation of the salt beef on rye I was going to have (with pickle on the side for me, coleslaw for E). As it sounds like I knew what I was going to have before I got there, where’s the dilemma, I hear you ask?
Which mustard to choose, of course. American, sweet and brown, French, smooth and mellow, or English, colourful and strong? I am not ashamed to say that I opted for a great lashing of Dijon, enough of it to get up my nose and make my eyes water, but a perfect complement to the salt beef. E went for American, preferring the mellower flavour, but delicious it tired out to be, too.
So, there we are, a pleasurable dilemma leading to a simple lunch with a dear friend. Who could ask for anything more?
