EPL Top Four Shoot Out : Arsenal 2 Man Utd 0
Mar 10, 2019 12:30:46 GMT
MrFurious, Carl LaFong, and 2 more like this
Post by staggerstag on Mar 10, 2019 12:30:46 GMT
Some United fans have arrived in good time and find themselves in Angel, a short distance from the Emirates Stadium. Instead of heading directly north they are drawn to the bustle of Upper Street - a busy thoroughfare leading eventually to Dalston, Shoreditch and London Fields (London Fields with its exciting Broadway Market which is open most weekends and is a delightful array of food, clothing and other stalls along the street) and the many restaurants and other establishments along it. Among the United collective are our good friends Mrs Doggett and her husband. They attempt to cross Upper Street at the traffic lights outside the tube station.
"Blawdy hell, how do we get across 'ere?" exclaims Mr Doggett as he watches the frenzied traffic fly by in all directions.
"We wait for t'green man, aye," replies Mrs Doggett, her red and black United scarf hanging comfortably over her ample ageing bosom. "Here we go, come on."
They successfully cross Upper Street to the other side, trying to keep up with the rest of the United contingent ahead of them.
"Ey up," says Mr Doggett, suddenly stopping and peering into a shop window. "Funny looking car shop, love," he says, his nose pressed against the window pane, eyes all a squinting behind his spectacles. "I'll be blessed."
Mrs Doggett tugs his elbow and moves him on. "It's t'Bodeh Shop," she explains. "Norra blawdy car shop."
"I wanted one o' them scratch repair kits for t'prang we 'ad outside t'bingo hall last week."
"Well, ye won't find it in there, ye daft apeth. It's an health shop, innit. Soap and stuff. Fancy stuff. That Anita Ruddock woman."
"Oh aye? Married the footballer."
"Aye, dirty player, proper blawdy dirty. 'Shaver' be name"
"Eh?"
"Aw, shurrup and keep up."
They progress along Upper Street, passing an unimaginably dense concentration of restaurants.
"It's like a blawdy feast of grub houses, eh?" says Mr Doggett. "Luke, there's a Mexican place."
"Aye, well, ye can luke all ye want but it's likely as not as Mexican as you, ye big sod."
"How much is it?"
"What do ye mean, how much is it? How much is what?"
"How much to get in? There's a fella standing by t'door. 'E wants paying, I s'pose."
"Don't be so blawdy daft. 'E's a meet and greet fella, he is."
"Oh, aye, mebbe."
They carry on past Islington Green and eventually the Doggetts follow the leaders onto a side street named Theberton. "Ooh, look, could murder a pint," drools Mr Doggett, pointing out The Bull at the corner of Theberton and Upper.
"We'll have none of it," deems his wife. "Luke at 'em," she says, observing the outside smokers in skinny jeans and diabolically ill fitting shirts. "Blawdy hippersters, they're called. Aye, with hipperster's prices to match."
There are, to your right as you enter Theberton Street from Upper Street, a remarkable eight eating establishments in a row, laid out side by side. But there's something unusual about these buildings. What are to all intents and purposes individual establishments from the front become joined at their rears by a huge ornate atrium where you can quite freely walk into the back of any one of these restaurants from whichever one of them you happen to be in. It's worth a visit just to see this most rare of constructions.
The Doggetts follow the crowd into La Vita é Bella, at number 16, and take seats at the back of the restaurant with a sweeping view of the atrium.
"Blawdy hell," says Doggett, looking down over the balcony from their table. "It's a fair way down, eh, love?"
"Aye, very unusual, it is. That's well below road level down there, that is. Mind you, that's the eyeties for ye. Very good with art and that, eh? Wonder wha's down there. Bodehs from t'Great Plague, like as not."
"Wharra they ordering?" says Doggett, glancing nervously around.
"Who?"
"Well, everybody else. I can't make head nor tail of this menu thing."
"Aw, just blawdy order summat. We're in London."
The Doggetts potted a £100 two-liner at the bingo last week and decide to treat themselves. Doggett goes for a starter of deep fried mozzerella in carrozza, heated until the cheese is melted inside the golden breadcrumbs and served up with a mixed leaf salad and a drizzle of sweet red onion marmalade zig-zagged across the plate (£4.75) For his main, he orders the Quattro Stagioni pizza, which comes in a medium base and whose four toppings are compartmentalized within their own quarter of the base (£9.95)
Mrs Doggett goes for the crunchy deep fried king prawns, mixed salad and fragrant sweet chilli sauce (£5.45) For her main she decides on the stuffed chicken breast (stuffed with sun dried tomatoes, brie and baby spinach) along with roasted vegetables and a creamy mushroom white wine sauce. You have to say, it looks absolutely delicious, which it should do at £13.95.
As Mr Doggett tucks into his pizza, Mrs Doggett's eyes widen as she notices something. "What ye doing?" she exclaims.
"Eh?"
"What ye blawdy doing?"
"I'm eating me pizza. I must say, I don't like t'way they put toppings in quarters, though, love. I've got to cut pizza all over t'shop. Why don't they just throw toppings on at random, eh?"
"Never mind that. Take it off t'board."
"Eh?"
"You're eating it off t'board. It's wood. Luke at blawdy marks your knife is leaving."
"It were served me on t'board."
"Tha's how they do it down here, ye daft bogger. Here, luke, you've got a plate right there. Put blawdy pizza on t'plate!"
"Aw, botheration. What difference does -"
"It'll make all the blawdy difference when the garkon sees t'state of his wood board. Now use a plate!"
At the end of the meal, the waiter glides over to the table and presents the Doggetts with the bill and a small glass each of amaretto. They're on the house, he explains, as is the custom here for á la carte patrons. Doggett gingerly sniffs the glass before looking at his wife. "Wha' is it?"
"Dinno," she says, sniffing. There's a pause and her face then breaks into a knowing grin. "Peanuts!"
"Eh?"
"Peanuts. Nuts. Like KP. Do ye not remember our Cheryl won a bottle of the stuff at prize bingo Christmas before last? That's it 'ere, same stuff."
"Oh aye?"
The waiter approaches again, this time with their change tray.
"It's peanuts, eh?" Mrs Doggett exclaims proudly to him. "Peanut liqueur? Lovely. We've 'ad this before."
The waiter smiles. "Almonds, or essence of almonds, madam.."
"Lovely," says Doggett as he drains his glass.
"Keep t'change, garkon," beams Mrs Doggett.
Let's now leave the happy couple to make their way to the stadium.
My Easi-Trav portable barometer informs me that the temperature will be around 9c for the match, with a 12% chance of rain and a 26mph top whack westerly wind which could well disturb the flight of the ball. But let's hope for a thrilling encounter today.
Arsenal present themselves off the back of a Europa League walloping by Rennes in midweek while United can claim one of the results of the season by most recently undoing PSG by 3-1 in Paris in the Champions League. The two sides are virtually neck and neck in the race for a top four finish.
Arse 7/5
Man U 2/1
Draw 13/5
"Blawdy hell, how do we get across 'ere?" exclaims Mr Doggett as he watches the frenzied traffic fly by in all directions.
"We wait for t'green man, aye," replies Mrs Doggett, her red and black United scarf hanging comfortably over her ample ageing bosom. "Here we go, come on."
They successfully cross Upper Street to the other side, trying to keep up with the rest of the United contingent ahead of them.
"Ey up," says Mr Doggett, suddenly stopping and peering into a shop window. "Funny looking car shop, love," he says, his nose pressed against the window pane, eyes all a squinting behind his spectacles. "I'll be blessed."
Mrs Doggett tugs his elbow and moves him on. "It's t'Bodeh Shop," she explains. "Norra blawdy car shop."
"I wanted one o' them scratch repair kits for t'prang we 'ad outside t'bingo hall last week."
"Well, ye won't find it in there, ye daft apeth. It's an health shop, innit. Soap and stuff. Fancy stuff. That Anita Ruddock woman."
"Oh aye? Married the footballer."
"Aye, dirty player, proper blawdy dirty. 'Shaver' be name"
"Eh?"
"Aw, shurrup and keep up."
They progress along Upper Street, passing an unimaginably dense concentration of restaurants.
"It's like a blawdy feast of grub houses, eh?" says Mr Doggett. "Luke, there's a Mexican place."
"Aye, well, ye can luke all ye want but it's likely as not as Mexican as you, ye big sod."
"How much is it?"
"What do ye mean, how much is it? How much is what?"
"How much to get in? There's a fella standing by t'door. 'E wants paying, I s'pose."
"Don't be so blawdy daft. 'E's a meet and greet fella, he is."
"Oh, aye, mebbe."
They carry on past Islington Green and eventually the Doggetts follow the leaders onto a side street named Theberton. "Ooh, look, could murder a pint," drools Mr Doggett, pointing out The Bull at the corner of Theberton and Upper.
"We'll have none of it," deems his wife. "Luke at 'em," she says, observing the outside smokers in skinny jeans and diabolically ill fitting shirts. "Blawdy hippersters, they're called. Aye, with hipperster's prices to match."
There are, to your right as you enter Theberton Street from Upper Street, a remarkable eight eating establishments in a row, laid out side by side. But there's something unusual about these buildings. What are to all intents and purposes individual establishments from the front become joined at their rears by a huge ornate atrium where you can quite freely walk into the back of any one of these restaurants from whichever one of them you happen to be in. It's worth a visit just to see this most rare of constructions.
The Doggetts follow the crowd into La Vita é Bella, at number 16, and take seats at the back of the restaurant with a sweeping view of the atrium.
"Blawdy hell," says Doggett, looking down over the balcony from their table. "It's a fair way down, eh, love?"
"Aye, very unusual, it is. That's well below road level down there, that is. Mind you, that's the eyeties for ye. Very good with art and that, eh? Wonder wha's down there. Bodehs from t'Great Plague, like as not."
"Wharra they ordering?" says Doggett, glancing nervously around.
"Who?"
"Well, everybody else. I can't make head nor tail of this menu thing."
"Aw, just blawdy order summat. We're in London."
The Doggetts potted a £100 two-liner at the bingo last week and decide to treat themselves. Doggett goes for a starter of deep fried mozzerella in carrozza, heated until the cheese is melted inside the golden breadcrumbs and served up with a mixed leaf salad and a drizzle of sweet red onion marmalade zig-zagged across the plate (£4.75) For his main, he orders the Quattro Stagioni pizza, which comes in a medium base and whose four toppings are compartmentalized within their own quarter of the base (£9.95)
Mrs Doggett goes for the crunchy deep fried king prawns, mixed salad and fragrant sweet chilli sauce (£5.45) For her main she decides on the stuffed chicken breast (stuffed with sun dried tomatoes, brie and baby spinach) along with roasted vegetables and a creamy mushroom white wine sauce. You have to say, it looks absolutely delicious, which it should do at £13.95.
As Mr Doggett tucks into his pizza, Mrs Doggett's eyes widen as she notices something. "What ye doing?" she exclaims.
"Eh?"
"What ye blawdy doing?"
"I'm eating me pizza. I must say, I don't like t'way they put toppings in quarters, though, love. I've got to cut pizza all over t'shop. Why don't they just throw toppings on at random, eh?"
"Never mind that. Take it off t'board."
"Eh?"
"You're eating it off t'board. It's wood. Luke at blawdy marks your knife is leaving."
"It were served me on t'board."
"Tha's how they do it down here, ye daft bogger. Here, luke, you've got a plate right there. Put blawdy pizza on t'plate!"
"Aw, botheration. What difference does -"
"It'll make all the blawdy difference when the garkon sees t'state of his wood board. Now use a plate!"
At the end of the meal, the waiter glides over to the table and presents the Doggetts with the bill and a small glass each of amaretto. They're on the house, he explains, as is the custom here for á la carte patrons. Doggett gingerly sniffs the glass before looking at his wife. "Wha' is it?"
"Dinno," she says, sniffing. There's a pause and her face then breaks into a knowing grin. "Peanuts!"
"Eh?"
"Peanuts. Nuts. Like KP. Do ye not remember our Cheryl won a bottle of the stuff at prize bingo Christmas before last? That's it 'ere, same stuff."
"Oh aye?"
The waiter approaches again, this time with their change tray.
"It's peanuts, eh?" Mrs Doggett exclaims proudly to him. "Peanut liqueur? Lovely. We've 'ad this before."
The waiter smiles. "Almonds, or essence of almonds, madam.."
"Lovely," says Doggett as he drains his glass.
"Keep t'change, garkon," beams Mrs Doggett.
Let's now leave the happy couple to make their way to the stadium.
My Easi-Trav portable barometer informs me that the temperature will be around 9c for the match, with a 12% chance of rain and a 26mph top whack westerly wind which could well disturb the flight of the ball. But let's hope for a thrilling encounter today.
Arsenal present themselves off the back of a Europa League walloping by Rennes in midweek while United can claim one of the results of the season by most recently undoing PSG by 3-1 in Paris in the Champions League. The two sides are virtually neck and neck in the race for a top four finish.
Arse 7/5
Man U 2/1
Draw 13/5
