The Old Trafford Bakery is sandwiched tightly between the red brick terraces on Shrewsbury Street. Next to the door, there’s a poster for a soundclash coming up later this month, and customers are milling around outside, looking at the new takeaway menu, the sandwich board a comprehensive list of Jamaican standards - curry goat, ox tail, brown stew chicken.
Since the early 1960s, this small, but perfectly formed bakery has been supplying Caribbean hard dough bread, fruit buns and patties to the neighbourhood.
And well beyond too. On Tuesday last week, ambulance driver Dale was waiting for the beef patties to come out of the oven, the smell of browning pastry thick in the air of the tiny shop. “Sometimes I buy stuff and send it down south to my dad in the post, because he’s got no Caribbean bakery where he is.
First class,” he says. “I’ll do that once or twice a year. But if the food wasn’t good, people wouldn’t come back.” So he’s a regular then? “He’s a regular to every takeaway there is,” his co-driver says, rolling her eyes. “I come here because the food tastes GOOD,” Dale laughs, heavily emphasising the ‘good’, and patting himself on the belly. “This is good living.
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