Pig Snout to Pot Spout

Image: John Carey

A STINKY tofu waft from Chinatown, where cooks cluster for indiscreet smokes, and Leicester Square’s neon smoulder, muted in early light, stands St. John’s first hotel. The handsome, six-storey stack’s façade boasts Langouste, Huitres and Moules. The simple signage, tacked to balconies, is the sole stylistic remnant of former Italian, Manzi’s, seemingly eulogised now it has gone. Staff in dentist-like tunics scrub pavements beside a bank of nine bins, cordoned as if queuers. Above, a heritage plaque indicates Johann Strauss I lodged here in 1838. Opposite looms the big ‘W’ hotel, a fogged glass spider’s nest, liked and lamented in varying proportions...

Read at Fork Magazine »
Subscribe »