Hyeeeeeeeeeeeeeyeeeee!  Hey rat fans!

I plan on getting back to my healthier eating this coming Monday, so, in order to bid farewell to my more debauched culinary habits I thought I’d have lunch down the Indian buffet today as something of a fatboys swansong.  Go out with a Bang(la) so to speak.

The restaurant in question is located about halfway down Surrey Street Market in Croydon, Surrey (UK), Alex first dragged me there in my teens one lunchtime from Boots and I’ve kept up the tradition by going down there on and off over the years (I have survived many changes in ownership).  In fact, I was unaware it had reopened as it’s been closed for a year and just came under new ownership; I only found out when Alan had popped down there last week.

Spice Express (commonly known as Spice Cafe amongst a few of my Indian friends at work) is very funky, £4.99 all you can eat, I’d heartily recommend this latest incarnation (especially the lamb curry, sadly wasn’t particularly hot but the quality of meat and flavour was great).  Very, very clean, fantastic staff, practically open kitchen, perfect.

When the 6 of us entered (My Guv’nor Alan, Doug, Dan, Leonie and Sam) we were greeted by a rather bizarre sight……….current Mayor of London Ken Livingston was schmoozing it up with Croydon counsellors for a PR stunt!.

It was absolutely packed, not by consumers, but his trendy lefty politically correct ‘HR ticksheet’ entourage (Or ethnic bingo as I like to call it…..”Have we got a Chinese woman?  Right, tick her off, Black man?  Tick him off, Big tall white guy standing at the back looking at the curry dishes wearing glasses, no, no, not ethnic enough, he’s clearly about as Indian as I am” !!!guffaw guffaw!!!) were all extremely animated and looked to vie for a photo opportunity themselves with Dobby the House Elf, right in front of the bloody buffet!!!.  We tried to manoeuver past them but it was tight let me tell you, the brown-nosers just wouldn’t move!

I think they must have heard my stomach growl as they shifted to reveal the hotplates of destiny; and it was well worth the wait.  Still, no sooner had Ken left the establishment the heavens opened up and I suspect he got rather drenched considering it was hail/heavy rain.  Karma is a lady and she sleeps in my bed 🙂

General point of advice to anyone, don’t get in my way when I’m hungry; I’m a divine agent of curry and I’ll stab you up with my poppadom of deceit!

P.s.  I’d vote for Boris Johnson, sorry Ken.