On Richmond St opposite the Metquarter you’ll find a glorious place; a place so magical, students whose budgets consist of pennies found behind sofa cushions will produce a jacket potato for £1.49.  Retail workers, businessmen, builders and Jurgen Klopp alike feel the love for this place.

I’m picky about my jackets, but out of the countless I’ve had only two have been undercooked and it was a bloke cooking both times. And these aren’t those A cup sized spuds – these are genuine humdingers, fluffy inside with plenty of filling. Good D cups. There’s a wide range of fillings from chilli con carne to peri peri chicken, making for amazing value.

A foot-long baguette is 99p; lots of options but fillings are a little stingy, though the brie & cranberry I usually go for is alright. I had one every day for a fortnight so now I can’t look at them. Sandwiches, wraps, pizzas and pasties look pretty feeble, and deffo swerve those fries.

The queue out the door gives the illusion of being chocka but it’s actually just a gaggle of indecisiveness blocking the way. The staff will usually scream ‘NEXT!!!’ and glare, and you’ll stand there like a lemon thinking, ‘Who, me?’ So you’re served pretty much immediately, and orders are taken with military precision and swiftness. Staff are also easy on the eye and wear dicky bows.

Choose a different place to eat – St George’s Gardens, or Chavasse Park – and it’s practically like eating out somewhere nice every day. Boss.


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