Fuzzy's Grub, London

Little did I know that, as I tucked into this sausage and egg sarnie from Fuzzy's Grub, on the other side of the world Eddie McGuire was boning himself. Luckily, there were no bones in my bangers. Just meat, and the usual extenders they stuff them with. Tasty.



Ordering at Fuzzy's proved to be something of a challenge. It all started smoothly enough...

Me: "A toasted sausage and egg sandwich on granary, please..."

Fuzzy: "Yes..."

Me: "And some HP sauce..."

Fuzzy: "Sorry?" (confused look)

Me: "Some HP sauce..."

Fuzzy: "Some?" (more confused look)

Me: "H... P... sauce..."

Fuzzy: "H... P...?" (totally confused look)

At this point it occurs to me that this particular Fuzzy's guest-worker has a less-than-perfect grasp of English, and despite the use of "HP sauce" on the menu above her head, is not fully up to speed on her brown sauce brands. So I connect the dots...

Me: "Brown sauce..."

Fuzzy: "Aaaaah... brown sauce... yes!"

And so we were back on track... until further down the production line, when I'm asked if I would like some salt and pepper. At this point I used what I thought was international sign language for "a little bit" and made that gesture where you hold up your index finger very close to your thumb... the kind of gesture that can ruin a man's reputation in the bedroom... you know the one.

Fuzzy then proceeded to drown my sandwich in a blizzard of salt and pepper, before asking me if it was OK. I think she may have seen the look of horror on my face.

Me: "No, it's not OK, but it's too late now, so don't worry about it..."

And that was that. The sandwich was a bit spicy, but otherwise very good. Once you learn to speak Fuzzy's, it's easy to see why people keep coming back for more.