Netil and Broadway Market

From Maltby Street, it’s a hop, skip and a cycle over Tower Bridge and north eastbound towards Netil Market. Having commenced with dessert at St. John’s for breakfast, unless you have tunnel vision, it’s next to near impossible not to get distracted by the delights of Broadway Market. Continuing on the dessert theme, I happen upon Fiendish & Goode, dealers of delectable dainties, as they describe themselves. The lemon drizzle with green crushed pistachios, and parsnip pecan ginger with mascarpone cream cakes match their description.  

My intention was indeed to traverse around the wonders of Broadway market and make my way to Netil market, but it was ne’er impossible not to get waylaid once again by the good people at yum bun who sell slow roasted belly pork with cucumbers, spring onions and hoi sin in steamed buns. The good lady selling the pork steams her own pillow soft buns – with difficulty apparently, according to her partner on the stall – and a fine job she does too. It must be a labour of love. Combined with the succulent free range blythburgh pork it all melts on the tongue. They are delicious.

They are about to commence an enterprise at London's only outdoor food night market from Friday the 25th of November until Christmas at the Long Table on Abbot Street in Dalston. Given the company they find themelves in at this market, including two of my favourites -Hawksmoor and Moro, it seems like an exciting venture.

Eventually, my nose leads me to my destination at Netil Market which is located at the top of Broadway Market as you approach London Fields and take a right. The market sells vintage clothing, bits and bobs, has a few food stalls, and even has a place to fix your bike. There is a queue at the Lucky Chip burger van and I’m told there will be a 20 minute wait. The smells emanating from Lucky Chip intimates that it will be worth the wait so I order a burger with bacon (no cheese for me) which comes with pickles and lettuce and seek a seat to wait.

Space is at at a premium in the market. Given the scarcity of seats, my cunning plan is to sit on my new folding bike which I am still getting used to and which is static and in its parked position. Instead of sitting on it however, I manage to end up flat on my arse as I fall off the bike in slow motion. Now, elsewhere when something like this happens, you end up receiving a round of applause and collective guffaws. At Netil Market, full of the too cool for school East London brigade, hardly anyone bats an eyelid. So when a right auld eijit ends up on her backside laughing at her own idiocy, no one pays an iota of attention.

The burger, when it arrives, brings happiness to one’s life. It smells and looks great. It’s served in a brioche bun, which is incredibly light, the pattie is juicy and reminds me of the great burgers you can get in New York. Sometimes a burger is perfect, other times, it’s even better. This is one of those occasions. At £6.50 the burger is worth the bruised backside and the even bigger bruised ego.