I think Alan Bennett sayeth'd that. It's attributed to him anyway. Eh?
The title, the title. Flippin heck, do I have to tell you everything?
"The macaroons aren't what they used to be Mabel". I could imagine the conversation, sun shining through the dusty window as the tea slowly lost it's heat to the empty tearoom.
We were in Clapham, not the Common one but the oop-market one, up north and all that. Well, down south from here but you know what I mean - or you should do.
Lovely place when the sun is shining. Room to breathe, river to wash your smalls in should you so wish and apparently where Mr Bennett sometime lives. Having strolled around the place we reckoned it was the house with the trampoline outside so we called " We know you are in there Mr Bennett, come and show yourself". I called him Mr Bennett as I didn't want to sound rude. Obviously. He didn't show himself. Pity that.
We drowned our sorrows with tea to wash down a couple of vanilla macaroons - as you do.