The Embryonic Stage

So.  2016 was the year I started a street food business with a Greek God.

“What made you start an enterprise like this?” asked a radio journalist type person, thrusting his microphone at me as we set up for our first big event.

I have never been interviewed before.  I’m not some div though.  I can be professional.  Oh yes. I collected my thoughts and took a deep breath.

“Oh, God, you know that terrible time over Christmas when you’re still a bit squiffy and there’s nothing on telly and you come up with this ludicrous plan of making bloody great Greek food using awesome local ingredients and you can’t afford to open a deli but you think ‘oh yes, there are other ways to be super-foodie’ and, er…yes.  Sorry, what was the question again?”

I didn’t do my Joanna Lumley voice though.  Well, not much.  Oh dear.

We’re doing this.  And we’re planning to do it ‘real bad’ as us fartisan types say.  (You don’t know ‘fartisan’?  Ooh ‘eck, as they (don’t) say in Greek.   Have a little look at the ‘about’ page.)

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