Wednesday, 8 October 2008
Back when we were young, skint and childless, Miche & I would eat at La Stalla in Newcastle. It was a cheap, friendly trattoria hidden up a piss soaked back street in a grimier part of the city. The food was deliciously simple and the staff were so laid back that they would sit with us and get mullered once they'd served the customers, which invariably were few. I have many fond memories of the place.
It closed of course, some years ago now, but I always make a point of walking up the alley when I'm around that way. Despite the lingering smell of drunkards' urine.
This morning I found some rather sweet graffiti on the wall along from our old haunt. I thought I'd share it with you.
On a related gastronomic note, I ate Ostrich for the first time today in a rather more salubrious restaurant than La Stalla and can heartily recommend it.