As The Tavistock Society slowly bounced its way down the cold, unforgiving metal of the escalator system, its eyes alighted on the food hall. It was delighted with the authenticity of the fish counter, where the ‘monger’ seemed but generations evolved from the aquatic wares he sold. On a significantly dourer note, the society were sick as carp after eating 725g of salami off-cuts from the deli counter.