Burlington Arcade on Piccadilly has a caff down from Charbonnel et Walker, where you can buy a box of chocolates as big as a cow, though I never have. Perhaps the time is now? I am being facetious of course: it is Le Café by Nicolas Rouzaud, who oversees the Maison de Haute Pâtisserie at the Connaught Hotel, and two unfortunate branches in Qatar. I wonder if the Hamas leadership visit and stick their fingers in pistachio gâteaux.

The café is a marvellous construct, as the arcade is. It exists so that spoilt Regency women, the Chelsea hags of then, could shop without walking in horseshit. I know how they feel.

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It isn’t lunch in the common sense of it. This food is to slake boredom and vanity, not hunger

It isn’t lunch in the common sense of it. This food is to slake boredom........

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