Three Strikes

[simsqu]

I don’t get out much at the moment; we try to order in most of our groceries, but I needed some fresh curry leaves to make more of Meera Sodha’s excellent Lemon Pickle, and it’s very hard to get fresh curry leaves delivered: they usually arrive a bit dried up, and they don’t work as well. Bear with me: there is a point to this. Well, not much of a point but I’ve seen Homes Under the Hammer and the day is stretching before me.

There is an excellent Turkish fruit and veg shop in Crouch End which I know sometimes have fresh curry leaves, it’s a 45 minute walk through the park each way, so there’s my exercise for the day. Usually there are a couple of very friendly, helpful and efficient young Turkish lads working in the shop, but not today. Today it’s just an old geezer minding the shop, possibly the father, probably the grandfather.

“Good morning, have you got fresh curry leaves?”

“Yes, sir, yes sir” and he gets them from the cabinet next to the till.

“Are you sure they’re fresh?”, I say, knowing their propensity to dry out a bit.

“Of course, of course sir, very fresh. All our produce is top quality, very fresh.”

If I’d pointed at him and yelled at the top of my voice “YOU ARE THE SON OF A THOUSAND FATHERS!!! he could not have looked more offended.
Slightly chastened, I gather together some other ingredients plus a few items I liked the look of and put them by the till, and he starts ringing them up.

“Do you have any brazil nuts?”

“Yes sir, of course sir, in the nut cabinet over there. Loose nuts. Very Fresh.”

He didn’t actually flick his thumbnail against his teeth and scream “”Vendetta!!!” but he might as well have.

So I put my bag of brazils by the till and start loading up the items into my shopping bag.

“Please sir, please sir, I have not finished putting the items through the till!”

“Oh, ok, so sorry”

“It is fine sir. I go as fast as I can.”

If I’d pointed at him and yelled at the top of my voice “THERE’S A BACK ACHING FOR THE LASH!!! he could not have looked more pained.

So I’m trying to repair the damage, and recall they sell these fantastic dates: a bit like Medjool dates but even better. Really expensive, sold individually (about £0.40p each), so I say, “do you have any of those delicious dates?”

“Ah, yes sir, very good. Here. How many do you want?”

“Oooh I’ll take a dozen please.”

…. and he starts counting them into a bag.

“Sorry sir, there are only nine.”

“Oh, well, I wanted twelve, but that’s fine…”

“No sir, no sir, please let me look in the back, there may be another tray…”

“No, no it’s fine really don’t both…” and he’s gone.

There’s banging and shoving and the sounds of much grunting and tutting, and hugely heavy things being labouriously dragged across the floor. He’s gone a while and I’m expecting at least to see him reappear holding the Ark of the Covenant, but eventually he comes back holding a tray of dates. I notice for the first time that he’s limping, so in a desperate attempt to try and get a bit of a rapport I say in a jolly voice, “what happened to the leg? Did you trip over a date palm haha??!!??”



“No sir, polio.”

[Lootman]

There is an excellent Turkish fruit and veg shop in Crouch End

Broadway Fruiterers? I have been going there since 1984!

Many of the Greeks and Turks in Crouch End are Cypriots. I learned this very early on when I asked for a "Turkish Coffee" in a place that was Greek Cypriot and I got the stinkeye. You learn from these things.