Reading Tweets from the queue on the opening night was how I first heard about the Long Table. I was sat in Lahore Kebabhouse, a much warmer environment from which to ogle at the bizarreness of London’s food scene. We’re people really queuing up, in the cold, on a Friday night to get into a market? Fast forward a couple of weeks and the Missus declares that her birthday gathering is taking place at the same market. Despite my best efforts to get the earliest train up to London, I find myself queuing a warehouse in Dalston, with the hipsters and the foodies, in the cold, on a Friday night.