BERRY NICE INDEED
The undercover cafe critic BERRYFIELDS, SCHOOL WYND, ABERNETHY
Scone Spy is impressed by Berryfields in Abernethy.
i’M
on my way to a superfancy cafe, but truth be told, my heart isn’t really in it.
Sometimes you’re in the mood for an all-singing, all-dancing kind of place.
Other times you aren’t. Today is one of those days.
So when I’m driving through the wee village of Abernethy and I see an intriguing sign for the Berryfields cafe, of course I turn off to explore.
That’s one of the things I love about this job. I can react to reader tip-offs and be as spontaneous as I like.
Berryfields is along a side street. It’s absolutely teeming down and I almost give up because I can’t get parked close to it.
But I persevere and find a space. By the time I get to the entrance of the cafe, I’m drookit.
I think to myself if I get in after all this and there aren’t any tables, then I might resort to an embarrassing, toddler-style tantrum. I’m that hungry and fed up.
It’s really busy, but I get an immediate warm welcome from the waitress behind the counter and she points to the perfect table for me.
It’s in a cosy corner. I plonk myself down, dry off and take a moment to myself.
You know how with some places the minute you walk in you like them?
You haven’t eaten, or even ordered, but they’ve just got such a nice atmosphere that you feel at home right away?
Berryfields is like that. You can tell it’s a labour of love and a lot of care goes into what they do here.
It’s a tiny wee place, but they’ve managed to cram a lot in. Next to my table there are dozens of pictures drawn by children who have visited.
Every one is a masterpiece, of course. You can’t help but smile as you look at the effort that’s gone into them.
There are lots of regulars here. It’s a bit of a meeting place.
“Hello, goodbye!” shouts one woman, who’s on her way out as her friends come in.
“Have you heard about Mary?” says one chum. They’re blethering for the next 10 minutes.
Mary – I never expected to hear that!
I order a scone with clotted cream – it’s a Friday and I’m just in the mood – and a pot of tea. And some tablet to go.
You know I don’t say this lightly, because I’m serious about scones. It’s one of the best I’ve ever had. Really.
It’s big and fruity, it has just the right texture and is simply delicious.
Along with the cream, it’s practically a meal in itself. I’d love to order a cake, but I can’t find the room for it. They look like my kind of cakes, though – not overly fancy, just delicious.
The waitress walks by with a ploughman’s lunch. Next time I’m having that. It looks lovely.
Berryfields is my kind of place. The menu isn’t huge but, looking around me, I see nothing but satisfied customers.
Doesn’t that say it all?