Would you swap a roast dinner, the holy grail of British meals, for a sandwich? The mere suggestion would usually cause me to spill my gravy in horror, but it’s 12.30 on a Sunday afternoon and I am one of a queue of people doing exactly that.
Behind the thick, red windowless steel door of the Secret Sandwich Shop in Notting Hill, west London, I will soon be tucking into a thing of beauty: an egg mayo sandwich. And before you raise your eyebrows (egg mayo is as divisive as Marmite in the lunchbox world), let me explain that this is not just any sandwich. Between two slices of chunky, toasted white milk bread are generous layers of the silkiest egg mayo mix, crunchy watercress,
