WOODY

 

 

Jed was acting in York last night (Miss Saigon, Joseph Rowntree Theatre - highly recommended) and stayed over last night, meaning we had the opportunity to go the Woody (The Woodside Cafe, just off the motorway at Goole) this morning.

This local institution is determinedly basic in its approach to catering. You can have one of four breakfasts, simply called, Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 4. No.1 has sausage, bacon, egg, tomatoes, potatoes and fried bread. No. 2 has all above without sausage. No. 3, the same only no bacon but sausage. No. 4 is for maverick's - spam as the protein of choice. Tea coffee and bread and butter are all provided in any of the choices.

When Jed ordered "a No. 3; no tomatoes," the lady behind the counter shouted to the cook, "one No 3 with beans."

Jed corrected her, "no beans either, thanks." She looked at him as though he had come from Mars. You've got to have your veg. Still, she obliged.

The Woody has no carpet. It has no napkins. It has no extras. It has no tablecloths. It has pretty much no anything, except it does have a fine pinball machine, the only one for miles around.

It fetishizes the basics. But it does get them very right.

Two groaning breakfasts later, I emerged £7.40 lighter.

My kinda place.