b'Caf of DreamsIntheearly1990sIspentmanyalongmorningsigningoffpage proofs at a typesetters in Compton Street off St JohnStreet.Mystomachwouldbegrowlingasthelunchbreakapproached. Often it was near close of play at the cosy andaffordable Italian cafs nearby by the time we were released.I dont know what dates me the most: typesetters, lunchbreak or affordable cafs [in EC1]. WealwayscollapsedintoJennysorPeppesorsomewhereelseofhazymemoryjustintimetoinhaleamountainofcarbs and cheese. If that weeks paper was done and dustedwe made a dash for Chapel Market and an Indian Veg buffet,which would keep you going for days.I went on a pilgrimage to the Compton Street caf heartlandrecently. I knew what I would find: Beppes closed down withrepo notice on the window, no sign of Jennys (I often think Imust have imagined itthecafofdreams)andComptonStreet itself sandwiched between a Pret and a Little Waitrose(see what I did there?). I couldnt find the typesetters but I amprobablythelastpersoninIslingtontodiscoverthattheelectricalshopsellslovelyCyprus-importedolivesandcandied fruits.Once Id moved to Islington properly in 2014, I grazed my wayup and down Seven Sisters Road (Michaels greengrocers andthe nut stall at the car boot sale) and Holloway Road (fromKorkmaz to Hing Yip) like a very hungry caterpillar.Ifinallygotmyfeetundertheneighbourhoodtableintheearlydaysofthepandemic.IntheFinsburyParkCookClubWhatsApp group, inspired by Mutual Aid and set up by Esther 15'