Secrets

I was on a bus one Saturday morning on the way home from Borough Market, laden with bags of lovely stuff in preparation for the week, the highlight of which was the arrival of my parents from Australia. They eat well - had to get it from somewhere! - and my mother is a total tea fiend. A pot of tea is the solution to every eventuality. It must be quality tea that is made with all the attendant rituals of warmed pots and precise quantities and, for her, milk before tea in the cup. Which obviously matches its saucer.

In Neals Yard they sell a small selection of wondrous goods as well as their exquisite dairy, one of which is boxes of Barry tea. I confess I'd never heard of it but I was sure that if they stocked it here it would be the best. So I bought a box along with my other bits for the week and thought no more about it till we were almost to Elephant & Castle. There was another couple on the bus, sitting across from us. She caught sight of the tea in my bag and exclaimed loudly to her man 'Oh look, they've got Barry tea. I can't believe it.' Then she leant over to me 'Where did you get it? I love Barry tea and I've never been able to find it in London. It's Irish!' When I told her she rang the bell, grabbed her man and jumped off the bus to go back and buy some.

I love those that love good food to the point where they must always seek it out.