Today I found heaven, and it’s a Jewish bakery in Stamford Hill.

Does anyone actually have a healthy relationship with food? I wouldn’t say I’m in a toxic relationship with food… more like, food is my mistress and I’m being infrequently ghosted, but bread crumbed along enough with a series of memes/ late night phone calls/ semi interesting articles to maintain my interest.

Looking up at the pretty Italian lady whose mouth these words of wisdom had fallen out of, my legs splayed, flat on my back, the basketball flood lights shining into my eyes, I couldn’t help wonder if I might have made a mistake.