Anyway Cafe Red, Ormskirk today. With my friend Miss Victoria Sponge. Vicky just does not get it, she can't see why each time I have to have a cake and not something else, or why it has to be in West Lancashire. I've been to Cafe Red before, it's always friendly and well known for its waffles.
I subtly asked the waitress if a waffle counted as a cake. She then shouted into the kitchen "Is a waffle a cake?" Except I said waffle (as in war-fell) and she said waffle (as in waff-el). There was no answer. I played safe, or so I thought and had the lemon and ginger marmalade bread and butter pudding made with brioche. I agreed to share with Vicky. She hated it (she ate a whole slice of decorative lemon by mistake and it put her off). I ate the whole thing. It was fab. Apart from the dreaded squirty cream, the serving of which should be an offence deserving of corporal punishment. Thats probably whats meant by lashings of cream. I ate it straight away while it was hot. I gobbled it down. Wow, it was lovely. Wow it was hot, but I could not wait.
An hour later when I was home I had a chronic pain in my stomach and rolled around in agony for over 30 minutes. I'd been too greedy, too hasty. I'd eaten it all while it was still too hot and the marmalade was probably still cooking. I'd scalded my inside. I felt like I'd feasted on napalm crumble. I must have looked like the kid in the Ready Brek advert, the one who glows from the inside. Vicky got the last laugh.
Dear reader, I hope you appreciate I am suffering for you. Putting myself through this pain so you don't have to. Vincent Van Gogh was the same.
It was good though. Would I do that again, probably.
Cafe Red can be reached by train (Northern Line), the Preston to Ormskirk Line and all sorts of buses from 2A, 3, 375,385 and the extraordinary 311.
Cafe Red, 41 Burscough Street, Ormskirk, Lancashire L39 2EG
3 down 177 to go.
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