A tale of two Smeg fridges

A tale of two Smeg fridges

The new silver Smeg fridge standing in the corner of the kitchen is my pride and joy. The only trouble is that every time I catch sight of it I am reminded of my own middle age and my daughter’s youth.

I’ve wanted a Smeg fridge for ages and when we moved house I blew the budget, whizzed over to John Lewis and ordered one. Despite the eye-watering price tag I haven’t regretted it for a second. It’s a thing of beauty in my eyes – chic and comforting in our rather ropey kitchen.

But if I assumed Smeg fridges were for storing skimmed milk, cheese, broccoli and fresh pasta then my daughter has put me right.

In the early hours of the morning she texted me a picture of her Smeg fridge. And no, as a cash-strapped London student she hasn’t got one in her flat. Her Smeg fridge is to be found at one of her favourite Spitalfields haunts – The Breakfast Club.

The restaurant is tucked away down a side street

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