1950S STYLE IN LOCKERBIE
The undercover cafe critic
Scone Spy gets misty-eyed about the old days.
SCONE SPY is heading south on a road trip.
Frankly, there’s been too much work recently and not enough play, so a wee bit of rest and relaxation is the order of the day.
Of course, it isn’t long before my thoughts turn to all things scone.
So, turning off the tedious M74, I head for the lovely wee town of Lockerbie.
I find myself in Cafe 91 on the high street. It’s got a kind of no-nonsense, old-school feel to it.
There are quaint photos of old Lockerbie, 1950s-style booths and milkshake syrups by the dozen.
It’s the kind of place people know each other.
They must get a lot of passing trade here, but there are plenty of neighbours, too, and they stop to pass the time of day and discuss the latest Lockerbie gossip.
Even the waitress gets in on the act, sitting down chummily at one table to take someone’s order and get the latest episode of their life story at the same time. It seems interesting – I wish I could hear the chat!
The menu is simply huge. If you can’t find something to tickle your tastebuds on here, do everyone a favour and stay at home and make your own food.
There’s cheap and cheerful – a fried egg roll for £1.30 – and a decent selection of main meals, snacks, cakes, and, of course, scones.
I decide on a coronation chicken sandwich. It’s a positive feast with chunks of fresh chicken in a mild, tasty curry sauce.
The scone is a luscious jam and cream affair – what’s not to love?
In fact, it’s so good I decide to order another treat to take away with me, too.
So I choose a giant gypsy cream.
I know. It’s not exactly health food. But sometimes, you’ve just got to live a little.
An elderly couple sits at a table near me. Regulars, I think.
She orders a coffee, he gets ice-cream with a wafer.
Not a word passes between them, as they sit together in easy silence, content with their own thoughts.
Then the gent turns and gives his wife a wee smile and their hands touch.
It’s about this time that I get something in my eyes and have to give them a wee rub but I don’t want you to think I’ve gone soft or anything.
Now, you might think that, with all the scones and cafe visits Scone Spy is lucky enough to do, that it’s been a while since the earth moved.
Well, you’d be wrong. Because when I nip to use the bathroom, little do I realise that the toilet seat is loose and your Scone Spy almost ends up on the floor, legs a-lolling and dignity disappearing.
It’s a close thing. I decide I need cheered up and treat myself to another cup of coffee. Never has heading back to the M74 seemed so unappealing.