Janie is a very good-hearted sort, as evidenced by her diary entries for this afternoon – listing a whole load of stuff to take over to my mum’s house that afternoon for our “half-holiday” and evening with mum. A busman’s half-holiday in Janie’s case, with chiropody equipment and massage oils listed.
In short, Janie will have given a great deal of care and attention to mum’s feet and shanks when we visited her at Woodfield Avenue that afternoon, ahead of dinner at Newton’s in Clapham.
Newton’s had been recommended by John and Lily Hogan, who were keen on that place. To be fair, it had good reviews back then and writing more than 10 years later (January 2019), although renamed 33 Abbeville now, still seems to be well regarded by the locals.
We were also attracted to the place by the offering of slow-cooked lamb shanks; a dish we all like(d) and don’t often see on modern restaurant menus.
Unfortunately, the care and attention that Janie gave to my mother’s feet and shanks did not appear to be replicated in those served to us at Newton’s. Our guess is that the shanks we were served had not been cooked for anything like long enough, making the central purpose of our visit more than a little disappointing.
At that stage of her life, mum found it difficult to keep her disappointment to herself…
…and at that stage of long, hard-working weeks, Janie and I were not in the very best of moods for awkwardness either, so I don’t think the visit ended quite as well as it should have done.
We did not return to Newton’s to ascertain whether our poor meal there was a one-off problem – quite possibly it was but we were none of us “second chance” types for restaurants – especially mum.
