with Mark Davison
Palmers, The Street, Ashtead
H EADING towards Dorking from the Epsom direction the other afternoon, I decided to pull up in the main shopping street in Ashtead and find somewhere to eat.
Happily, parking was no problem (60p per hour in a car park) and soon I was strolling under the grey skies along The Street.
I was pleasantly surprised at how so many village shops were still busy. There was a host of stores including the usual charity shops, estate agents and restaurants. Even a greengrocer's. I found the post office temporarily closed while it is refurbished although it was due to re-open imminently as a main branch.
I was delighted to find a friendly little cafe, Palmers, open for afternoon snacks not quite opposite The Leg of Mutton and Cauliflower public house.
I felt the people of Ashtead were lucky to have so many thriving shops in their lively community. This must save the villagers from making countless shopping visits to the bigger towns which involve entering those dreaded dank and dreary multi-storey car parks.
I went inside Palmers and strolled up to the counter. A cheery young fellow behind the counter enquired if he could help me.
"I fancy something savoury to start with," I said.
"Well, we can still do hot jacket potatoes or something like that. Take a seat and you'll find the menu on the table."
This I did and I opted for a toasted bacon and French brie panini with a side salad. A businessman darted into the cafe and asked the assistant for a cappuccino "to go". Then a bespectacled schoolboy called in and politely said to the assistant: "Can I have a hot chocolate, please?"
He was asked: "With cream and marshmallows?"
"Yes, please," came the reply.
He then sat at one of the tables and took out his homework and studiously got to work, pen in hand.
A mother and her teenaged daughter called in and ordered toasted teacakes and hot chocolates.
After a while, the assistant, wearing a red apron, checked whether the toasted teacake was to be with jam and butter.
"No jam, just butter," said the mother, who was sitting in a window seat in the corner.
She picked up a leaflet to read, while her daughter flicked through a magazine.
I stared out of the window at the later afternoon traffic passing by. The mother suddenly scurried out of the door and made a beeline for the charity shop across the road. She later re-emerged with a small collection of blue glassware and showed each piece to her daughter.
The businessman asked if he could leave his takeaway cappuccino on the counter "for a minute" while he attended to something along the road.
He was gone several minutes before he returned and said, almost apologetically, "I'm just going to collect my coffee. Is that OK?" He smiled and darted off.
My panini arrived and was very tasty. The warm brie almost flowed out of the sides.
The homework boy's mother arrived in the cafe and took a seat alongside her son. She started to check for messages on her mobile phone.
Another schoolboy called in wearing a tracksuit top and bottoms and placed his Superdry schoolbag at his feet. He ordered a fruit drink and sat down and turned on his mobile. He deftly tapped his fingertips on the keypad. Perhaps he was playing an electronic game – I couldn't see.
A tall glass of cream-topped hot chocolate I had ordered was brought to the table.
I glanced at the menu and was impressed at all the breakfasts, lunches and snacks that were available. There were "deli-snacks, small plates and Palmers' favourites lunches" among the list.
There were afternoon cream teas available, too.
Palmers traditional cream tea comprises a pot of tea, home-made scone with jam, butter and farmhouse clotted cream (£3.65).
I picked up a card and learned that Palmers also has a catering side to the business, supplying business breakfasts and lunches, birthday parties, weddings, funerals and the like.
They even have a free crockery, cutlery and glassware loan.
The cafe filled up with the aroma of toasted teacakes and my mouth watered. I would just have to order one – with jam and butter.
Every so often the "high street" reverberated as a loud motorbike was ridden past.
A 479 bus to Bookham pulled up and as the afternoon wore on, it was evident that the early evening rush hour was nearing.
The toasted teacake was delivered to the table and I had quite forgotten how delicious and "comforting" it was. I savoured every mouthful.
Sadly, a glance at the clock showed it was approaching five. It was time to settle up and head home before the queues of traffic built up.
