Quality Food Served All Day

The New Piccadilly Café Is a Soho institution.
They broke the mould after they built this place.
She’s a true landmark. The last of her kind.
A veritable Tasmanian Tiger amongst Pret A Mangers.
The Rosie Lee is stewed. The rice pudding is from a can.
The mashed potato is instant and the lasagne comes with chips.
It's true, the medieval cusine won’t be winning any Michelin stars,
but that's all part of The New Piccadilly’s charm.
That and the pink enamel espresso-maker.
That and the Festival Of Britain inspired formica table-tops.
That and the well-loved Thonet chairs
and and the horseshoe-shaped menu board.
All originals. Not a reproduction amongst them.
I know I've been neglecting her of late, but I have my reasons.
I've had other old-school eateries to frequent:
huevos rancheros and freshly-squeezed OJ to order at
Keedy's Fountain & Grill on Highway 111, Palm Desert,
a 10-inch stretch chili dog to stand in line for
at Pink's stand on the corner of Melrose and La Brea.
When The New Piccadilly closes her doors tomorrow evening
and the red neon “EATS’ sign is extinguished for the last time,
Mr. Lorenzo, the padrone of this Cathedral Of Caffs,
has vowed to take a sledgehammer to the place.
He wants to smash apart the antique
fixtures-and-fittings with his own two hands.
He’s worked at the counter-top here his entire adult life.
For some 50 years or more. So who can really blame him?
It’s very much his royal prerogative.
Amongst the many regulars in their widow’s weeds
is a girl I had an infatuation with back in the Springtime of 1997.
She always had a thing for older men. Older men than me.
She was sweet 19 when we first met, and would prove
to be a something of a template for what was to follow.
She wasn’t the last precocious little upstart
I fell for, oh-no, but she was certainly the first.
Sent down as a warning which I failed to heed.
She joins me in my booth and orders a cup of hot coffee.
Her hair no longer bottle blonde. Her wonky smile still intact.
Since last we met, she’s been training to be a shaman.
She's spent time in the Amazon rainforest
with the Cofán Indians of Santa Rosa de Guamuez.
Journeying to grand cities past and future.
Witnessing the primordial origins of humankind.
Developing both her Inner and Outer Raindow.
She finishes her hot coffee and orders a bowl of peach melba.
For the final time of asking.

Today's Special: New Piccadilly (Short Film)