Note: The post below was published in 2009; I went back to Letting a couple of times subsequently (most recently in September 2016) and both the food and service had gone down in quality considerably since the restaurant changed ownership.
I’m trying to decide how to introduce this brunch-cafe review. Do I regale you with yesterday’s sleep-deprived hangover? (not again, I hear you cry!) Do I confide my monotonous anxiety and excessively poor relaxation skills? (too depressing, methinks) Or do I just get to the bloody point and stop trying to be all social commentary-ish (or possibly just self-obsessed) for the first paragraph of every blog entry? (I expect many of you are thinking in the affirmative at this point, although I can’t imagine I will kick the waffling habit any time soon – so tough luck.)
So there we were yesterday – hungover and fed up with men and hungry (what’s new?) – hunting down brunch with eggs. And then we came across Letting. I couldn’t remember having been there before, but something felt familiar about the place, so maybe I had, or maybe it just has that kind of feel about it.