Why the restaurant that only serves cereal is objectionable
London has a restaurant that only serves tinned fish. It has a cat café which is literally, a cat café. I even understand that somewhere (probably Shoreditch) there is a restaurant so discrete you have to crawl on your hands and knees through a hatch to gain access. But a café that serves cereal? No mate. That is one concept too far.
I don’t normally wish for businesses to fail, let alone small businesses. But I am going to make an exception with this one. I hate ironic fandom. I hate fraudulent amusement; the embracing of shit novelty kitsch deemed to be ‘so bad, it’s good’ by people desperately looking some unloved crap to sarcastically embrace in the name of individuality.
This is hyper nostalgia; it is a man listening to music on record player that’s plugged into his iPhone (as seen near London Fields). It is the resurrection of nonsense; the celebration of crap given underserved status in the name of childhood memories. It’s wankers on the bus playing Altered Beast on their Game Watches.
It proves London is now full of thirty and forty somethings whose idea of adulthood is shamelessly derived from Tom Hank’s character in BIG.
Cereal is the culinary S Club 7 – manufactured pap designed to appeal to the most basic tastes of infants. It does not warrant a restaurant. It barely warrants a cupboard in our kitchens. Mostly it is convenience food, designed to leave you hungry, undernourished and addicted so you end up eating more.
This whole concept is everything that is wrong with the way London is changing. It pays no attention to its locale. How ignorant do you have to be to not know Tower Hamlets is one of the most deprived areas of the country, as one of the owners admits here?
I’m not even surprised. Most people who open businesses vigorously research their locations, understand their environments and create opportunities suited to the area in which they are based. Not these guys. Given funding and investment for a terrible idea, it’s another nail in the coffin for the soul of the capital. Of course these dudes know nothing about Tower Hamlets, they don’t expect anyone who from the largest swathes of the borough to eat there. If you were born within 10 miles of this place, it was not conceived with you in mind.
Heck, have you seen the pictures from that café today? Tower Hamlets is about eighty percent BAME, but unless it’s the milk turning ‘chocolate-y’, you won’t be seeing much brown in that place.
This is a restaurant for idiots with nothing better to do with their time or money. Anyone who has a smile on their face whilst eating a £3.20 bowl of Indonesian Shredded Wheat should be sectioned and prescribed a very thorough reading of The Emperor’s New Clothes.
Eating imported cereal excites me about as much as wearing imported socks. Are you impressed by this abomination? My advice for you, is to grow up.