A shelf of ferocious sauces ...

One of my vices is snarfing a fiery curry -

I linger over menus in dimly lit curry houses, murmuring the names of outré dishes - 

Shall I order an Aloo Gobi I ask Richard - or a Keema Boorke ? - 

We'll sip icy Cobras - 

Aquacars will prowl boozy streets, Southsea Poets will write villanelles on takeaway flyers - in Rosie's a jazz guitarist will play Django's Blues - 

In Forest Gate, I came upon a shelf of ferocious sauces - 

I remembered curries with Jay and Russell in The New Bengal - 

The patient waiters brought tindaloos to our rowdy table - 

One night, Russell sneaked into the kitchen - he hid a frozen chicken under his velvet jacket - 

Matthew, the noble Old English Sheepdog, waited for us in the smoke filled Triumph Herald - 

12.45

Saturday 20 February 2016

Forest Gate

London