Borough Market on a Friday

Beneath the railway arches at the south end of London Bridge, feeding the city since 1756. Come Friday morning — stalls open, Saturday crowds absent. The air under the iron and glass roof: fresh bread, roasting coffee, cured meat, the sharp tang of Comte being cut with a wire.

Neal's Yard Dairy is the anchor. British farmhouse cheese taken so seriously that standing at the counter feels like a lecture you didn't know you wanted. The Stichelton — unpasteurized Stilton — is crumbly, blue, and tastes like Nottinghamshire having a good day. Bread Ahead doughnuts filled with salted caramel will ruin every other doughnut permanently. Kappacasein blowtorches raclette onto potatoes while a queue forms.

Walk south to Maltby Street Market under the railway arches — smaller, less known, the vibe Borough had twenty years ago. Better discovery, fewer elbows. The waffle stall alone justifies the detour.