So in the last month I have developed a crush. It doesn’t happen too often so I’m running with it. In fact, this particular crush has occupied my thoughts so much that its sprouted… not wings but certainly some odd little webbed fingers… and given me a potential idea that i might keep in the Business-Idea Bank. There’s not much in the BIB that is worthy of discussion as yet (hence the blog) but this one I’m going to keep on a medium-sized pedestal until I get bored with it…
So the crush is Brixton Market (obvy..?) My friend introduced me to it about a month ago, and I know it must be love because I have the warm feeling in my tummy thinking about it, and I want to share it with everyone I love in my life. Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights munching my way through the cafes and restaurants might be as close to heaven one can get. Fun people + interesting bands + B.Y.O. = winner winner chicken dinner.
We started at a Pakistani street food restaurant called elephant. For 7 of the Queen’s shillings you can fill your boots with a silver platter of joy – naan, dal, rice and the most delicious curry with chicken mystifyingly tender. The front of house (1 of the 3 staff members) suggests I should ask the chef what his secret is – he doesn’t speak English. Tender chicken Pakistani-style might never be knowledge I acquire.
The next week I return with new recruits. We start with Fish Wings & Tings = best name ever, best goat roti ever. One bottle of rosé down and we move on to Mama Lan for dim sum. Another 2 bottles of rosé down (there are 3 of us – this is socially acceptable surely?) and we move to the Agile Rabbit for thin and crispy pizza. With this we must have a bottle of Rioja. There’s a band, its a given.
Surrounded by pictures of shagging rabbits and good food we start to brainstorm. My growing crush on this place makes me want to be involved, get on a waiting list for a tiny restaurant, get my best friends to quit their jobs with me and go into business together. You know, the usual. However, like a titted pussy, the email address i got from the lovely owner of the Agile Rabbit (so I could pick his brains about it all) still sits in my bag because i don’t know how to actually approach it. So here’s a draft of a business plan, just in case…
Dad is in the process of retiring in to cattle farming. Happiest when he is balls-deep in turd, his children understood from a young age that quality time involves donning wellies and/or boiler suit and offering to pull down a fence. Big Bill style.
With the cows now numbering in the twenties and 6 gorgeous babs born in May, give it 2 years when the 3 boys will be hugged by the steak fairy, we’ll have some meat on our hands. This might coincide with a BM waiting list. Our first farm-born cow was Balthazar, a gorgeous character who we all loved. he fed 100 people at my dad’s 60th birthday and a year on every time Suffolk beckons we nail Balthazar burgers, sausages, stews and everything in between. We always raise a glass to him. And to Bill for raising him. Balthy was such a lad.
I propose: Burgh House @ Brixton.
All produce from the farm. We’ll eat a cow until it’s gone. People can suggest what the menu is each week, which cuts to use. And because this year all the cows have been named beginning with the letter “D” and Bill’s children must have their giggles, my initial marketing strategy should be a bit o a curve-ball too. Not only can you get a Danger burger, but:
and most poignantly of all, our menu:
Thank god the kids weren’t around for the naming of the “C”s or we’d all be eating things far more crude…
And it all fits quite nicely with Brixton Market Traders’ Federation campaign MAKE IT GROW IT SELL IT.