61: Gregory

Years ago, when I lived in Leeds and dreamed of moving to Beverley (still do, sometimes) I desperately wanted to open a café of my own. In these dreams, the café was glossy and white like a photo with the brightness turned right up, and it had a golden elephant on the sign. I can't remember why, but it was called Gregory. I sold homemade bread, quiches, sandwiches (and you know my sandwiches are gooood), salads and cakes baked by friends who also liked to play this game with me.  I've always been a fantasist.The cafe would also be a place for people to meet. Young people looking for somewhere to be on a rainy walk home from school would come in for hot chocolate, or some of my ginger and orange cordial if they weren't feeling flush (30p for two refills and a free biscuit). On the weekends, maybe I'd serve bottled Belgian beers and a local artist would show their work to locals and tourists.  There'd be a book club, a crafts club, a carers club. The dream café wasn't just about making drinks and serving food to people. It was about creating a welcome; bringing people in, offering space to think, chat, read, work, be. More than a decade and several jobs in hospitality, marketing and writing later, it's happening. The creation of a place where people are welcome, where all my favourite things can be enjoyed by as many people as possible. Tom and I are building a bar, finally, after years of planning and dreaming, and you're all invited. Once it's built, of course. Currently it's a pop-up print gallery. There's no beer, wine or cider there yet, but I guarantee it won't be long until the place is swimming in the stuff. I'm hoping to launch the website over the weekend (all being well) and you can find it here.Other Stuff

My Stuff

  • I'm opening a bar. You may have heard. Follow Corto on Twitter and Instagram please!

Samantha Crain in her living room by Charles Rushton