The Blue Bunny, St Marys Place

On one of the hottest days of the year Newcastle cafe society was blooming.  I spotted people sitting at pavement tables at many of my previous venues, all chatting, looking happy, basking in the sun.  This was the cafes' moment indeed.  My eye was drawn to the Blue Bunny's blackboard advertising picnic fare and the loan of a rug to picnic on - how enterprising!  I guess you could always huddle under the rug for warmth on cold days as well.  Keen now to make the acquaintance of the generous and imaginative Mr Bunny I hopped down the short but steep flight on stairs to his burrow.  Bunnies with restricted mobility may have a problem with the steps unless there is another tunnel entrance that I missed.
I paused at the entrance: 'oh my tail and whiskers!' I thought, 'Mr Bunny's burrow is only for trendy bunnies, I think I hear the sound of hip hop music on the gramophone.  Perhaps he will turn me away!'. 
I need not have worried.  Mr Bunny is a gracious host and his employees have impeccable customer service skills.  I was welcomed in a down-to-earth, practical way that was not gushing and didn't make you want to puke at the insincerity of it all.
I ordered tea and a cheese, ham and marmite sandwich.  The tea was served in a vintage Andrew and Fergie mug c1986 (Sarah Ferguson, not THAT Fergie) which made me smile - royal marriages always start out so well, don't they?  And the sandwich was wonderful and plenty of it.
Decor?  Mismatched tables and chairs as we have come to expect.  Didn't spot a sofa which is a definite plus for me.  Witty little touches like the crisps stored in an antique-looking globe that had been a drinks cabinet and the electric organ used as a leaflet stand, and the lampshades fixed upside down as uplighters.
So, I liked it, maybe that's because I still want to think I'm young and trendy, but even the most boring will appreciate the quality and value of the food.  Just don't try the steps too soon after the hip replacement...

That was the week that was...

I have to report that Grace has been on tour this week - Shropshire and Herefordshire - thoroughly recommended for countryside and country towns.  However due to problem laptops and short time, not real report.  So, thank you to the catering teams of the National Trust, English Heritage, Costa Coffee and Our Lady of Starbucks at Hopwood Services (M42).  It's been a good week and now the quest continues...

Freudz, The Northern Guild of Psychotherapy, Jesmond

I wonder what the great Sigmund would have made of a cafe that advertised itself as an area's best kept secret?  Mmm - don't overanalyse things as I was once told.  That said, it was slightly daunting to cross the porticoed threshold of the Northern Guild of Psychotherapy and enter Freudz (why not Jungz or Rogerz, I wonder?  Maybe they plan to open a burger bar.).  In the event, Freudz turned out to be very reasonably priced (pot of tea for two £2, giving two good cups each, tasty scone and just enough butter.  I'm deducting marks because the butter was rock hard and couldn't be spread at once.)
The decor was subdued, greys, blacks, whites but the room itself oozed class.  Like Lisa's coffee shop some weeks ago, I could imagine myself in someone's home.  Only Freudz would be the doctor's home, waiting room downstairs, consulting rooms upstairs.  Like all waiting rooms it was icily quiet.  I gazed at the other coffee drinkers wondering what was wrong with them.  The guy with the beard - a psychotherapist himself perhaps?  Maybe we were all sane - I didn't see anyone wiping the door handles and there was no screams off.  So, it's definitely one to experience and they have a full programme of activities and courses for those so inclined, and the price is right.  Like Willi's, the local parking regulations could lead to a nervous collapse, but if you're passing, you could do a lot worse.

Willi's, Clayton Road, Jesmond

Willi's really is tucked away in a quiet street with Byzantine parking regulations.  I think it may have been an Italian restaurant in a previous incarnation.  Now it nestles beneath the trees with the wooden floor, the quirky decor (old picture frames with cups, jugs salt and pepper pots emerging), the frankly wonderful array of cakes (Victoria sponge like you have never tasted and which I demolished at a speed that astonished my companion), newspapers to browse of course, lazy afternoon music and a sprinkling of other customers.  Ideally placed for the people who live in the beautiful town houses or snug little mews nearby, or the mums catching up after dropping the kids off at school, or the clientele of the exclusive shops further along the street. 
Willi's know their niche.  It's good coffee, fine teas (silk pyramid infusions, I tell you, not a teabag in sight), good food.  It's Jesmond.  It's a little fantasy world.  So just for a short while I played the game - I lived in a house like that, used those shops, had a residents parking permit, and it was always sunny.  Harmless, like most fantasy, but don't start believing it.

Rosie's Bistro and Patisserie, Gosforth Shopping Centre, High Street

Who is Rosie, I wonder?  A Cooksonesque heroine?  'Brought up in grinding poverty by her mother, Rosie Halloran is the illegitimate daughter of the fabulously wealthy pit-owning Ritz family.  They own everything in the area, but fiery Rosie cannot be bought and determines to make herself a better life as a bistro owner.  Her business success brings her into direct confrontation with Sir Tetley Ritz - her father!'  Bit too caps and clogs?  Maybe she's more chick-lit?   'Rosie Whittard-Claridges lives a life of luxury where afternoon tea is served every day on tables laid with snowy white tablecloths, delicate bone china, silver cutlery and the finest teas, cakes and sandwiches.  When a misunderstanding with a Premier league footballer in a trendy London nightspot leaves her under the superest super-injunction ever, she flees to the north east to hide.  A chance encounter with a Rington's tea van decides her destiny.  Can Rosie, with only the help of her gay antique-dealer neighbour and her grandmother's cheese scone recipe, make the bistro work, find a footballer more interested in home games, and meet loveable characters who will rescue the reputation of the whole area? 
But enough of this - what about the cafe?
It's not often I venture into the wilds of Gosforth, let alone the shopping centre, but I'd seen Rosie's advertised and thought I'd check it out.  I suspect in a previous incarnation the unit was home to something a little less grand, but Rosie (or her representatives on earth) have transformed it into something fashionably dark. NO sofas that I could spot, only tables and chairs that appear to have been salvaged from an old chapel somewhere.  How do I know that?  They all have a ledge at the back to stow your hymn book and Bible.
If you sit right at the back as I did, you have a nice view over the park. I ordered tea and a scone, boringly choosing the English Breakfast tea from the extensive list offered.  The waitress (clad in black as all good waitresses should be) said 'two scones'.  I agreed and was pleasantly surprised when a dainty plate with a doily and two dainty cheese scones arrived with a tiny plate with real butter.  The tea was leaf tea in a little pot with a tea strainer and of course a dinky little milk jug.  I don't know who Rosie is, but she sure knows how to do afternoon tea!

The Hungry Elephant

Just a little extra here.  This was one of the eating places at the wonderful Green Festival.  Cushions and rugs, some fun little cube tables covered in old newsprint, and a nice line in veggie samosas served with raita and mango chutney.  That and a cup of tea warmed me up nicely for another foray into the world of festival clothing.  Funny how the rainbow hoodie never seems such a good idea on a Monday morning isn't it?  Maybe I just lead too conventional a life.  Oh and you can get the samosas from a shop in Stanhope Street apparently.  I tried gong therapy too.

Jasmine Bakery House, Charlotte Square

When I arrange to meet a certain friend for coffee or any other social event you can guarantee a disaster.  Event is cancelled, we fail to meet up as planned, one of us gets a parking ticket, the list goes on.  I nearly rang her today and suggested we meet 11am at the Jasmine Bakery House.  Just as well I didn't as it opens at 12 noon.  So, another disaster averted - hurrah!

JBH is tucked away behind Blackfriars, not far from Stowell Street,  handy for Westgate Road, and conveniently placed for the charity shops of Clayton Street (which was where I headed to kill time until it opened).  It has a cheerful pink exterior and an interesting-looking oriental menu.

Stepping inside I felt suddenly unsure, as if I had stepped into a world where the rules were different.  Could I just have tea?  Was it OK to be here?  Resounding yes to both - the young and friendly staff were more than helpful.  I ordered tea and then pondered over the selection of buns displayed by the counter.  Not your usual buns these, spring onion bun, sausage bun, satay bun and various sweet buns too.  I chose a sausage bun and a coconut tart.  Both I suspect were homemade and both delicious.  The sausage bun was an ordinary sausage encased in a type of bread that has nothing to do with cardboard burger buns - soft and tasty and with a honey glaze.  So nice I wanted to taste all the rest!

Then the regular clientele came in and began to show me how it should be done.  A girl picked out three or four buns or various types for a takeaway.  Young couples arrived and ordered main meals - the cutlery brought to table was chopsticks and a soup spoon (not sure I'm brave enough for that yet).

The Jasmine Bakery House:  clean, basic, friendly and home of The Bun.