I’m just going to come right out and say it: these are the best poached eggs I’ve had – anywhere – to date. I’ve been to Goldilocks three times now, because the first time I went I didn’t believe they were real, and the second time I went I didn’t take any photos, but the third time I went everything was JUST RIGHT.
There are two things I truly love in this life: the knowledge that one day Ryan Reynolds may rub his manly body all over me, and a good poached egg. To that end, I today returned to Goldilocks for the third time in as many weeks. Unfortunately Ryan stood me up, but the eggs did not. I don’t even know what that means. I’m delirious with egg yolk.
Before I get carried away (and I will), a few bits of housekeeping. Goldilocks is hard to find. It’s off Camberwell Road in a kind of alleyway, behind Firechief Pizzeria which is sort of diagonally opposite the Rivoli Cinemas. But it’s not signposted by name – all you’ll see is “CAFE” and a yellow door. Use your looking eyes.
The service at Goldilocks has been excellent each time I’ve visited. It is light and spacious and not too noisy, and there is a cabinet filled with Little Bertha cakes and slices. My only gripe might be that the toilet is very close to the eating area.
But on to the show stealer.
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