Fortnum & Mason
THINK PROVISIONS, think Fortnum & Mason. Moored on Piccadilly like some majestic ocean liner, this, the ne plus ultra of grocery stores, is a shining jewel in London’s crown: a hive of tourists, it’s true, but also an essential resource for natives. I may be dropping £5; I may be dropping £5,000. No matter how short or long my shopping list, Fortnum’s can supply it with a style and commitment to excellence that leaves its nearest competitors bobbing in its wake.
A few years ago, a well was sunk through the heart of the building in a bid to entice visitors to the departments in its upper reaches, the existence of which few had hitherto suspected. Honestly, though, one hardly need stray from the hallowed food halls, where the displays of edible goods – 60 varieties of own-brand jams, preserves, curds and marmalades alone – could persuade a stylite to forsake his column. From kippers to claret, and from Sandringham Blend coffee first concocted for Queen Alexandra to Wedding Breakfast tea created to celebrate the nuptials of Prince William and Catherine Middleton, Fortnum’s has a fair claim to be considered God’s Own Larder. Can you contemplate an Ascot, a Glyndebourne or a Christmas without one of its fabled hampers? I can’t.
See also: Berry Bros & Rudd, Charbonnel Et Walker, Paxton & Whitfield, Hg Walter
