The Dawdlers Club

During the Second World War a group of hardy RAF heavy-goods vehicle drivers (my Grandfather included) would regularly ‘dawdle’ their wagons across the sand strewn plains of North Africa, hauling anything from ammunition to aero engines. As you may imagine these journeys were slow, tedious and often fraught with danger.

For safety at night the drivers would rendezvous in the middle of nowhere whereby tarpaulin bivouacs were erected, camp fires lit and out would come tables, chairs, cutlery and crockery, even a silver candelabra fashioned by a craftsman in Cairo.

Then under the stars, and amidst the chaos of war, the gentlemen of The Dawdlers Club would eat, drink and just make the most of it, with great British eccentricity.

Although times have certainly changed, and my Grandfather is no longer with us, I am proud to carry on the name of The Dawdlers Club along with my son Harry.

Whether it is on a beach, in a wood, or just in the back garden, our aim is to get outside to just cook, eat and make the most of it.

So, if this sounds like your sort of stuff feel free to like and follow our culinary adventures.

Best wishes

Dan & Harry at The Dawdlers Club