Apparently, after goodness knows how many proud years as the High Street's living, most vibrant, eyesore, the Mitre is reopening as ... an Italian 'chain' restaurant.
How depressing. Can anyone really imagine Peter Wimsey breakfasting Reggie Pomfret in an Eye-tie chain? Bad enough to live with the reality that Fuller's, home of coffee-and-walnut cake, is now a Burger King. That the Luna Caprese and the Elizabeth have gone oriental (not to mention most of Soho).
And have you seen what the merciless Welsh hordes have done to the Cornmarket?
But now this.
Come friendly bombs and ... er ... Slough is no longer worthy of your attentions ...
I have just one aspiration: that people will remember that I was the first to suggest ... in the interests of economy and concision ... that the old Mitre might be accorded the High Church nickname of Il Zucchetto.
Yes ... I do know that ...
So very sad. I had some dear Anglo-Catholic friends (St Michael's Camden Town and Holy Redeemer Clerkenwell, no less) who married in 1943, and spent their honeymoon in the old-world luxury of the Mitre, away from the bombs.
For those who don't know, it had descended to a ghastly pub for the past 30 years. Now this.
Come bombs, friendly or otherwise! (And don't forget your tin zucchetto!)
In a relatively recent incarnation it was owned by Berni Inns.
They did quite good steaks.
Tragic! I looked up the overpriced menu of this chain “Italian” restaurant. On it you can find: hummus, vegan burgers, gnocchi with pulled pork (!), and worst of all, ‘carbonara’ made with cream.
Some cynics say that the purpose of the zucchetto is to cover the hole left by the extraction of the spine before episcopal consecration.
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