Itchy York article

Save our bacon

The greasy spoon is facing extinction

What are all these people doing here? They haven’t even ordered anything,’ bellows the owner from the half open kitchen door. The tiny bleached-blonde waitress whirls on him and barks back in a voice like Babs Windsor.

‘Bums on seats innit? People in the caff. Makes us look busy. Now get back to your cooker.’

Character is on the run. Thousands upon thousands of surly grocers, bakers, boozers and blood-spattered family butchers have been quietly murdered by sprawling shopping centres, bland coffee houses where you can buy a saucer full of sugary foam for the price of a small family car, and chain pubs with seven-for-five offers on allegedly alcoholic ‘fruit’ drinks that taste of candy floss and look like a purèed Oompa Loompa.
In the midst of all this stands one last bastion of personality: the great British caff. Formica tables; brick-red tea; those gorgeous plates of meat, grease and potato. You sit elbow to elbow with the salt of the earth and heap the same on your food as the waitresses chatter about next door’s kid who torched his borstal.

But even these heroic institutions are under threat. A recent survey suggested that by 2010, they will be almost extinct, replaced by ‘European style’ coffee shops; those faceless and sterile places beloved of business lunchers with coloured contact lenses and more than 17 pairs of shoes.

The caff, though, is not without its fans. Russell T Davies’ award nominated blog, eggbaconchipsandbeans, follows his journeys ordering the same meal in caffs across the UK, while The Dead Café Society celebrates now defunct greasy spoons across the land.

Then there’s HP Sauce’s ‘Save the proper British café’ campaign. They’ve been running an online petition and selling their own (brown) charity wristbands. Proceeds go to the rousingly named ‘fighting fund’ (kick-started with a generous donation of five grand from HP themselves), and alongside the petition they’ve been encouraging people to vote for cafÈs that they think need a slice of the cash to keep their heads above water. Reassuringly, over 5,000 people voted, with the judges at HP choosing which five caffs benefit.

It seems the Great British café and its full English flavour is close to people’s hearts, and ultimately the only thing that can save it for us all to put our money where our mouths are. That fry-up might shave a decade or so off your lifespan, but just think of what it’ll do for your soul.
After all, as we sit in our local caff sipping our tea, all we can think is that you’re not going to get banter like this in Starbucks. ‘Who pays your wages? Do some bloody work for once,’ retorts the owner, a cheeky smile at the corner of his mouth. ‘Wages? You call what you pay me wages? Don’t mind that tight bastard there – what can I get you darlin’?’

Classic Cafés

Comments

Mmm. Beans...
- cameron on 30/10/2006 -

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