Skate Knobs at The Wright Bros

There are many wonderful things to say about The Wright Bros, and I know why. Their head chef, Philip Coulter is brilliant. There is a fan club, albeit a strange one as its members have not been formally introduced. But it does exist, for front of house tell me I am not alone in requesting a place at the bar which overlooks his station.

People who pity those who eat alone are missing a trick here: the bar seats, ideal for solitary souls, are the best in the house. I like the one next to the furthest wall, so if I find you on it, there will be blood.

What they say about the early bird is true: on my most recent pilgrimage I was the first customer for lunch and spying skate knobs on the chalk board, was lucky enough to enjoy a plate before they promptly sold out. They were breaded, deep fried and served with tartare sauce. But don't despair if you ruck up and they're gone - they do plateau fruits de mer starting from £15, the most perfect pie with a pastry crust sitting atop of Staub cast iron pots, and have an extensive list of oysters that are sold by the half dozen. To drink they have a lovely crémant by the glass, and bottles of Billecart-Salmon Brut.

Coulter is not only a chef I like, but a word I like too. Burns uses it in his poem To A Mouse and then there is Mrs Coulter of Pullman's Dark Materials fame. Generally speaking, the coulter is often presented as cruel, be it part of a plough or a power-hungry member of the General Oblation Board. But this Coulter isn't - he will pass you a small plate of whitebait or an extra New Orleans oyster on the house, and doesn't seem to mind if you ask him for foody tips even when the rush is on. His mayonnaise is perfectly-peeky and I intend to extrapolate his recipe for celeriac, but only after I purchase a mandolin. Oh - and if that wasn't enough, his father wrote the theme tune to the film version of one of my favourite books - The Water Babies. Based on all of the above, I am going to include the word coulter in my novel, which is set in Hampstead Garden Suburb. I have found a link. Trust me.

Back to the W Brothers. A trip to Borough Market is not complete without a lunch there and in the summer months they open up the front doors allowing customers to spill out onto the pavement. Last week Mr. Zilli was being filmed just outside, although no one seemed sure why... probably doing a Jamie and using the market as a backdrop to blather on about honest grub whilst rubbing radishes. Do either chef shop there though? I shall allow the Lancastrian in me to respond: do they heck.

By the by, I find this mound a curiosity. I pass it every time as I cut my way from London Bridge, past Southwark Cathedral, onto Stoney Street. 'It looks like a small hill' I heard someone say as I stopped to take the shot, but I beg to differ; to me it looks like an overturned mollusc shell, and for that reason and that reason alone, I love it.