Hell and Mrs O. This lovely little addition to Lantana Cafe‘s menu has been leasing space in my brain ever since I first laid tastebuds on it two weeks ago. It was so extraordinary that I came home from brunch and proclaimed my undying love in twittersphere so perversely that I was harangued about having been paid to do PR for Lantana.
But no. It’s not PR, it was just plain nasty obsession.
For two whole weeks (and I swear this solemnly on my box of mochi ice cream, that if I should lie, I shall be sentenced to never have another mochi ice cream ball in my gluttonous existence – oh yes, hell hath no fury), I thought about Lantana‘s baked eggs Every. Single. Day.
And today, a full two weeks later, I was adamant that rain, hail or shine (or queue, be that as it may because Lantana always has a queue), I would be there, reunited with my hot, saucy, albeit eggy lover.
London weather gave us its best ~ dark stormy clouds, gusty winds and pellets of rain the size of walnuts. But ain’t nothing keeping me from the warm arms of Lantana‘s baked eggs, its saucy yolk interlacing ever so provocatively with giant field mushrooms and chunks of chorizo. Heaven.
Where there is love, there is always a way.
13 Charlotte Place
0207 637 3347