There were times, when I was working at the shop, when we would have bacon sandwiches during our staff breaks.

With the resident butchers supplying the bacon, and Kelly, who worked in the bakery, cooking it in the shop oven, we got it down to a fine art.

We’d take our breaks at ten minute intervals, and using the condiments from a basket underneath the hot food cabinet, the whole shop would smell like heaven and Reggae Reggae sauce for about an hour.


Not sure why it only happened on my boss’s day off, but there it is. To me, from those days to this, friendship smells like Caribbean barbecue sauce.