London

Phyllis and Clyde at The Market Café
George: ‘It was at the end of our street, run by a lovely couple, Phyllis and Clyde. He started the café after the war. Before that I think the family manufactured pianos. They had three cafés in London, this one was for Spitalfields Market, for the porters.’

Gilbert: ‘They didn’t accept us at first, the porters.’

George: ‘They would wolf whistle and jeer. They were terribly tribalistic and we were only allowed to sit inside the door. Phyllis eventually made them accept us.’ Feature continues

Gilbert: ‘We went at 11am every day. We always have lunch at 11am even now. It’s good because it’s quiet.’

George: ‘It became an extension of our house. A home from home. We became friends with Phyllis and Clyde.’

Gilbert: ‘George even helped out. He washed up when they were busy.They must be 85 or 90 now, but we still ring them every Christmas.’

Heart at The Market Café
George: ‘It was just the best old English food ever. You could never replace it. Pies, puddings, desserts, roast meats, boiled meats, grills. What’s extraordinary was that the café opened every day at one o’clock in the morning and would close at two o’clock in the afternoon. The café survived the closing of the market, then the artistic people moving into the district. A lot of city people came.’

Gilbert: ‘They all loved the food.’

George: ‘Clyde was a genius. Self taught. Roast beef, roast lamb, breast of lamb, tongue.’

Gilbert: ‘He did stew, pork chops, leg of lamb, tripe, oxtail… all the dishes that are becoming trendy now. If you go to St John, they do exactly the same things. All the puddings were handmade: marmalade turnover, apple crumble, syrup pudding, Nelson’s slab – I think it’s made from other cakes that are left over and formed into a big slab. It closed around 2000. [Though now shut, the café is immortalised in some of their work, including ‘Christ Almighty’ (2001) and ‘Cafe’ (2004).] We go to a Colombian one round the corner now, called Rossi. It’s very good. They’re from Colombia.’