People say London is the best city for food.
We certainly have the highest density of global cuisines on this side of the Atlantic though New York would likely argue the point.
But as I walked through the West End today, dodging the rain and the frantic lunch-hour rush, I realized that for all our variety, we are missing a crucial ingredient: the "Labour of Love" meal that is affordable.
The Binary Choice of Great Portland Street
I found myself at LoongExpress on Great Portland Street, looking for a break in the noise. While I ate, the owner told me the cold truth about surviving this market: you either go high-end, where people spend for the prestige, or you go affordable, where the goal is to fill stomachs at scale.
The space in between, the place where soul and hours of experimentation usually live, is becoming a ghost town. In London, survival often means cutting corners, which is exactly why a true "middle ground" is so hard to find.
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