Cake tins, clocks and a Christmas countdown.

This was the quickest of snaps, grabbed at the entrance to the kitchen shop as the Mr and I walked back to the car-park after celebrating my returned appetite with an "upstairs café" breakfast. I was mesmerised (and not in a good way) by the sign, the Mr was amused by the hat.

My friend G once commented that this particular shop can make you wonder, mid-browse, how your culinary life has ever been truly complete without a mushroom peeler. The only time that I've ever left there without what I wanted to buy was when they'd sold out. After about eight years of shopping there I still don't know what half the stock is, or what it does.