Looking for all the cops

This isn't about last night's tea, but Saturday's breakfast. I got up early and cycled all the way to Tower Bridge in search of St John doughnuts - an ambition I've had for a while. The bakery's in a blindingly bright railway arch on Druid Street, along with not much else. The shop (open Saturdays only) is some tables across the entrance. The doughnuts are two quid each. And well worth it. The custard inside them is the texture and taste of melted ice-cream, complete with black flecks of vanilla seeds. It makes them almost impossible to eat, but despite this I soldiered on and managed two.
On the way back I bought a pomegranate the size of a shot putt from a greengrocer also on Druid St. The pomegranate was lovely, but the tangerine/mandarin things were crap.

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