Paradise Cafe
129 Holloway Road
Lower Holloway
N7 8LT
020 7607 2886
by Hamish Pastry
The Holloway Road, though not beautiful, scores points in a number of areas. One, it is where that most noble of thoroughfares, the A1, begins. Two, it’s home to a collection, an embarrassment even, of fetish emporiums. Reader, if gimp suits are your thing, head to Holloway forthwith. Thirdly, and most pertinently, it presents a staggering selection of breakfasting opportunities.
At precisely 12.50 the Paradise was packed. An abundance of Arsenal shirts signalled a match in the offing. Despite this it offered a welcoming ambience – warm, clean and well kept with a jaunty décor (one wall blue, one wall peach reader!).
The menu gave a good choice of combos, with a distinct leaning towards the broke breakfaster – Budget, £2.80, Mini £2.50 and the frugal Small, £1.80. Starting with egg, bacon, sausage & chips you lose sausage and then chips as the price drops. The most expensive option is the Double (egg, bacon, sausage, beans, mushroom, tomato & toast, twice) at £4.95. I should mention that all of these come with a tea or coffee as standard.
I opted for the Single (as Double, once, £3.95). The tea was delivered promptly but with the bag still floating. Unsure of how to proceed, I dumped it in the ashtray. Perhaps a breakfasting faux pas, but no matter – I was master of my own brew.
What followed was as fine an example of the greasy spoon breakfast as one could wish for. Egg? Blessedly runny. Bacon? Crispy, not soggy. Sausage? Astonishingly long, not herby but good. Best of all, I was accidentally given double toast – a most welcome error with so much to be mopped.
With plenty of change from a fiver I happily departed Paradise and, observing my bulging waistband, decided to forgo the rubber dress fitting for another day.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Garfunkel's, Heathrow Airport
Garfunkel's
Terminal 4
Heathrow Airport
UB3 5AP
www.garfunkels.co.uk
by Hashley Brown
It is a commonly held misconception in these parts that an early morning flight makes one immune to the effects of the night before. And so it was that I found myself on the wrong side of a night on the rill and the right side of passport control at Heathrow Terminal 4.
Dismayed not to be able to test the mettle of Mr Banger's previous recommendations, I took advice from the coutured lady at the "Caviar & Prunerie" delicatessen and headed for Garfunkel's.
For sheer diner appeal Garfunkel's doesn't do too badly and culled from a shortlist of equally unappealing corporate eateries the offer of a "great british breakfast" quickened this writer's waning pulse. Pot of tea and paper later, my surly waitress delivered a promising start - bacon, sausage, egg, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and hash brown. Many breakfasts stand or fall on the quality of their egg. In this case however it was an egg masquerading as a trojan horse - a work of art behind which lurked a cowardly excuse for a breakfast.
The egg was perfect, runny and firm in all the right places, but as for the rest! The mushrooms had a faint lemony tang not disimilar to that of a bottle of Cif; the tomatoes had had but the briefest dalliance with a grill and were flavourless to boot; and the sausage whilst appearing plump and meaty concealed a thick layer of yellowing fat beneath its crispy skin.
Even with the promise of exotic shores this breakfast was a disappointment, and today I learned the hard way that one should never trust a lady who sells prunes.
Terminal 4
Heathrow Airport
UB3 5AP
www.garfunkels.co.uk
by Hashley Brown
It is a commonly held misconception in these parts that an early morning flight makes one immune to the effects of the night before. And so it was that I found myself on the wrong side of a night on the rill and the right side of passport control at Heathrow Terminal 4.
Dismayed not to be able to test the mettle of Mr Banger's previous recommendations, I took advice from the coutured lady at the "Caviar & Prunerie" delicatessen and headed for Garfunkel's.
For sheer diner appeal Garfunkel's doesn't do too badly and culled from a shortlist of equally unappealing corporate eateries the offer of a "great british breakfast" quickened this writer's waning pulse. Pot of tea and paper later, my surly waitress delivered a promising start - bacon, sausage, egg, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and hash brown. Many breakfasts stand or fall on the quality of their egg. In this case however it was an egg masquerading as a trojan horse - a work of art behind which lurked a cowardly excuse for a breakfast.
The egg was perfect, runny and firm in all the right places, but as for the rest! The mushrooms had a faint lemony tang not disimilar to that of a bottle of Cif; the tomatoes had had but the briefest dalliance with a grill and were flavourless to boot; and the sausage whilst appearing plump and meaty concealed a thick layer of yellowing fat beneath its crispy skin.
Even with the promise of exotic shores this breakfast was a disappointment, and today I learned the hard way that one should never trust a lady who sells prunes.
Friday, December 23, 2005
Cafe Euro Med, Kentish Town
Cafe Euro Med
225 Kentish Town Road
Kentish Town
NW5 2JU
020 7267 7761
by Malcolm Eggs
The LRB North London office is in Kentish Town and, intending to rest our quills for a Sunday morning, we thought we’d have an off-duty breakfast in an already approved establishment. But for some arcane reason Brassino and Mario’s were both closed so we reluctantly agreed to give the empty-looking Euro Med another try: reluctantly because our last (pre-LRB) visit had left us with a murky, regretful aftertaste.
An hour later, our cutlery lay shamefully parallel on plates grimly awash with the flotsam and jetsam of a breakfasting disaster. Inedible, slug-like mushrooms, depressed baked beans and fried slices of devious bready manslaughter were all present in the somber medley. We should never have come back.
There were as many waiting staff as customers, but we didn’t get served for an age. Our orders were taken wrongly and the food was undiluted villainy. Two of us who ordered the same vegetarian breakfast received completely different plates of food. Clinging to Ed's Eggs Benedict was a congealed, disgusting excuse for hollandaise sauce. Sigmund remarked that the vegetarian sausage resembled a stool sample.
If (and only if) you feel like paying for a disdainful slap in the face, Café Euro Med could be the place for you.
225 Kentish Town Road
Kentish Town
NW5 2JU
020 7267 7761
by Malcolm Eggs
The LRB North London office is in Kentish Town and, intending to rest our quills for a Sunday morning, we thought we’d have an off-duty breakfast in an already approved establishment. But for some arcane reason Brassino and Mario’s were both closed so we reluctantly agreed to give the empty-looking Euro Med another try: reluctantly because our last (pre-LRB) visit had left us with a murky, regretful aftertaste.
An hour later, our cutlery lay shamefully parallel on plates grimly awash with the flotsam and jetsam of a breakfasting disaster. Inedible, slug-like mushrooms, depressed baked beans and fried slices of devious bready manslaughter were all present in the somber medley. We should never have come back.
There were as many waiting staff as customers, but we didn’t get served for an age. Our orders were taken wrongly and the food was undiluted villainy. Two of us who ordered the same vegetarian breakfast received completely different plates of food. Clinging to Ed's Eggs Benedict was a congealed, disgusting excuse for hollandaise sauce. Sigmund remarked that the vegetarian sausage resembled a stool sample.
If (and only if) you feel like paying for a disdainful slap in the face, Café Euro Med could be the place for you.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Pullen's Dining Room, Herne Hill
Pullen's Dining Room
293 - 295 Railton Rd
Herne Hill
SE24 0LR
020 7274 9163
by Gracie Spoon
A mind teeming with hangover needs a dark, slow place to calm its nerves. And a body surprised by its own possibility for drunkeness needs a robust breakfast to reassure. Such was the appeal of Pullens, whose murky lighting and solid furniture provided a welcome sense of cosy permanence that is often lacking in more styled cafes.
From an appealing menu, Eggs Florentine (£6.95) and an All Day Breakfast (£6.50) were chosen… though conveying this to the people responsible for acting on our decisions took some time. Although this slow service fed into an all-round atmosphere of unhurried amiability, we more than once found ourselves shuffling in our seats and blinking endearingly at the staff for attention.
Once ordered, the food arrived at a normal pace. Surprise reigned though, as a sizzling bowl of hot cheese was put down and I tried to remember what I had chosen. The precise rules of Eggs Florentine are unclear to me, but I had believed they might include something about a muffin? Nonetheless, the power of suggestion on a frail mind is a powerful thing and in that moment, hot cheese soup was exactly where I was at. Eggs and spinach soon emerged from the soup, and while not as fresh, or as carby as I’d visualised, the grease and sizzle of the thing turned out to be a more than acceptable hangover cure. Meanwhile, I’m told the All Day Breakfast looked better than it tasted.
If the food was only okay, Pullens is still a reliable and kindly place to while away a breakfast and soothe a jittery head, though it's probably best to arm yourself with plenty of circuitous chat, as the whiling could go on for some time.
293 - 295 Railton Rd
Herne Hill
SE24 0LR
020 7274 9163
by Gracie Spoon
A mind teeming with hangover needs a dark, slow place to calm its nerves. And a body surprised by its own possibility for drunkeness needs a robust breakfast to reassure. Such was the appeal of Pullens, whose murky lighting and solid furniture provided a welcome sense of cosy permanence that is often lacking in more styled cafes.
From an appealing menu, Eggs Florentine (£6.95) and an All Day Breakfast (£6.50) were chosen… though conveying this to the people responsible for acting on our decisions took some time. Although this slow service fed into an all-round atmosphere of unhurried amiability, we more than once found ourselves shuffling in our seats and blinking endearingly at the staff for attention.
Once ordered, the food arrived at a normal pace. Surprise reigned though, as a sizzling bowl of hot cheese was put down and I tried to remember what I had chosen. The precise rules of Eggs Florentine are unclear to me, but I had believed they might include something about a muffin? Nonetheless, the power of suggestion on a frail mind is a powerful thing and in that moment, hot cheese soup was exactly where I was at. Eggs and spinach soon emerged from the soup, and while not as fresh, or as carby as I’d visualised, the grease and sizzle of the thing turned out to be a more than acceptable hangover cure. Meanwhile, I’m told the All Day Breakfast looked better than it tasted.
If the food was only okay, Pullens is still a reliable and kindly place to while away a breakfast and soothe a jittery head, though it's probably best to arm yourself with plenty of circuitous chat, as the whiling could go on for some time.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Medcalf, Clerkenwell
**NOT CURRENTLY SERVING BREAKFAST**
40 Exmouth Market
Clerkenwell
EC1R 4QE
020 7833 3533
www.medcalfbar.co.uk
by Blake Pudding
I have to confess an acquaintance here. I met the head chef of Medcalf Tim Wilson in Edinburgh a few months ago and we got royally drunk together. Furthermore, I have known the assistant chef Andrew "Hoggy" Hogg since I was born. At the LRB, however, we pride ourselves on our scrupulous objectivity - an establishment will stand, or fall, on the quality of its breakfast. For this visit I was with Ed Benedict and the doyenne of the craft renaissance Danielle Proud.
The quality of the ingredients here was never in doubt. The bacon was dry-cured and well-flavoured, the large field mushroom divine, the black pudding addictively nutty and the slow roasted tomatoes were worth travelling from Balham to try (not that I live in Balham). Any problems? The excellent grilled sourdough bread that accompanied the meal was inexplicably drizzled with olive oil; butter or dripping would have been preferable. Ed complained that his scrambled eggs were too runny but, as I have mentioned before on this site, Mr Benedict has odd tastes in eggs. I had a more pertinent eggy complaint in that my egg was brown on one side and still raw on the other. This would have been acceptable in a Green Lanes greasy spoon but when I am paying £8.50 then this is inexcusable. Ed's smoked salmon and scrambled eggs came in at £6.95. Here lies the problem with Medcalf; the prices suggest perfection whereas the food is merely very good.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
The Peckham Experiment, Peckham
The Peckham Experiment
168 Bellenden Road
Peckham
SE15 4BW
0207 2529424
by Herby Banger
For as long as I can remember Peckham has been considered “Up and Coming” – and Bellenden Rd is the embodiment of this warped ethos, having slowly removed the local smells and sounds and replaced them with coffee, yoga and higher house prices.
The Peckham Experiment is a café/restaurant that sits on this bland row. After seeing the blackboard outside I ventured in. After an inexcusably long time I was served, ordering their Full English and a latte. So far so normal.
Then the plate arrived and at first glace I could barely contain my shock. I physically felt myself flush with desperation. A weaker man might have wept, for this was an expensive breakfast, but what greeted me was an abomination. Where do I start? Perhaps the diced mushrooms and their accompanying juice. This dark grey liquid had infected every inch of the plate's surface: the toast was so heavily laden with it that upon physical contact it broke and crumbled like soggy sick. The beans were barely warm, and the bacon had scarcely touched the pan. As if matters could not get worse, I then noticed that they had forgotten to include the fried eggs. Outrageous! I should have cut and run right there: ‘forget the money’ I thought… but no, I had to make my point. An obvious mistake, so it was only a mild bombshell when not two minutes later the dish returned, this time with hurriedly undercooked eggs.
I was inconsolable. What hurt the most is that they seemed to have created a breakfast without any care for the basic craft of cooking. Walking away, stomach and wallet badly effected, I was left to rue my misfortune. Without doubt the worst, most insipid excuse for a breakfast I have ever encountered.
168 Bellenden Road
Peckham
SE15 4BW
0207 2529424
by Herby Banger
For as long as I can remember Peckham has been considered “Up and Coming” – and Bellenden Rd is the embodiment of this warped ethos, having slowly removed the local smells and sounds and replaced them with coffee, yoga and higher house prices.
The Peckham Experiment is a café/restaurant that sits on this bland row. After seeing the blackboard outside I ventured in. After an inexcusably long time I was served, ordering their Full English and a latte. So far so normal.
Then the plate arrived and at first glace I could barely contain my shock. I physically felt myself flush with desperation. A weaker man might have wept, for this was an expensive breakfast, but what greeted me was an abomination. Where do I start? Perhaps the diced mushrooms and their accompanying juice. This dark grey liquid had infected every inch of the plate's surface: the toast was so heavily laden with it that upon physical contact it broke and crumbled like soggy sick. The beans were barely warm, and the bacon had scarcely touched the pan. As if matters could not get worse, I then noticed that they had forgotten to include the fried eggs. Outrageous! I should have cut and run right there: ‘forget the money’ I thought… but no, I had to make my point. An obvious mistake, so it was only a mild bombshell when not two minutes later the dish returned, this time with hurriedly undercooked eggs.
I was inconsolable. What hurt the most is that they seemed to have created a breakfast without any care for the basic craft of cooking. Walking away, stomach and wallet badly effected, I was left to rue my misfortune. Without doubt the worst, most insipid excuse for a breakfast I have ever encountered.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Canteen, Spitalfields
Canteen
2 Crispin Place
Spitalfields
E1 6DW
0845 686 1122
www.canteen.co.uk
by Cathy Latte
On certain Monday Mornings, when the week stretches ahead like an assault course from Takehashi’s Castle, a breakfast that’s anything short of exceptional could prove disastrous. So it was with dry mouths and racing hearts that Malcolm Eggs and myself took a gamble on the highly praised Canteen restaurant, which recently opened and sits between idiosyncratic Old Spitalfields Market and modern, city-facing Bishops Square. If Hopper were to have painted ‘Nighthawks’ in 2005, albeit against a backdrop of an East London shopping development, then it would have looked like Canteen. Floor-to-ceiling goldfish-bowl windows lined with fuzzyfelt green booths plus central communal bench seating makes the place look lifted straight from the pages of Wallpaper magazine.
On arrival we were greeted with luminous smiles from achingly attractive staff. We plumped for crumpets and marmalade, Cumberland sausage and roast onion sandwich, two pots of tea each and – as a cavalier extra – fresh ginger, carrot and apple juices.
Malcolm is very particular about his crumpets and to his relief the ones served here were suitably firm and the accompanying marmalade homemade. As for the sandwich, the natural-skinned sausages were translucent and succulent and the onions were plentiful, all served aloft a tasty toasted loaf. For all day breakfast lovers and those with a propensity for rising late there’s good news in the fact that breakfast is served from morning until close. But if the late rising is a symptom of studenthood or unemployment, there’s bad news in the form of the price. Our modest little breakfast (inc.12.5% service) cost £23! As we rummaged reluctantly for our credit cards we noted over furrowed brows that whilst super it was a breakfast most definitely reserved for the start of the month.
2 Crispin Place
Spitalfields
E1 6DW
0845 686 1122
www.canteen.co.uk
by Cathy Latte
On certain Monday Mornings, when the week stretches ahead like an assault course from Takehashi’s Castle, a breakfast that’s anything short of exceptional could prove disastrous. So it was with dry mouths and racing hearts that Malcolm Eggs and myself took a gamble on the highly praised Canteen restaurant, which recently opened and sits between idiosyncratic Old Spitalfields Market and modern, city-facing Bishops Square. If Hopper were to have painted ‘Nighthawks’ in 2005, albeit against a backdrop of an East London shopping development, then it would have looked like Canteen. Floor-to-ceiling goldfish-bowl windows lined with fuzzyfelt green booths plus central communal bench seating makes the place look lifted straight from the pages of Wallpaper magazine.
On arrival we were greeted with luminous smiles from achingly attractive staff. We plumped for crumpets and marmalade, Cumberland sausage and roast onion sandwich, two pots of tea each and – as a cavalier extra – fresh ginger, carrot and apple juices.
Malcolm is very particular about his crumpets and to his relief the ones served here were suitably firm and the accompanying marmalade homemade. As for the sandwich, the natural-skinned sausages were translucent and succulent and the onions were plentiful, all served aloft a tasty toasted loaf. For all day breakfast lovers and those with a propensity for rising late there’s good news in the fact that breakfast is served from morning until close. But if the late rising is a symptom of studenthood or unemployment, there’s bad news in the form of the price. Our modest little breakfast (inc.12.5% service) cost £23! As we rummaged reluctantly for our credit cards we noted over furrowed brows that whilst super it was a breakfast most definitely reserved for the start of the month.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
The Elk in the Woods, Islington
The Elk in the Woods
37 Camden Passage
Islington
N1 8EA
020 7226 3535
www.the-elk-in-the-woods.co.uk
by Ed Benedict
It was a Saturday morning: the Elk in the Woods was very busy and the music was inexcusably loud (and bad). The breakfast menu was limited but acceptable, containing a full English, a full Veggie (both £6.95) and, for some reason, perhaps to cater for all those Islington 'bohos', two slices of coconut bread (£3).
My expectations were high. The place seemed sophisticated and expensive and the clientele were clearly of the wealthy middle-class media variety. I ordered the full Veggie and asked for no grilled tomatoes or corn on the cob (too much effort to eat first thing in the morning), plus extra mushrooms. I also made clear my extreme aversion to runny yolk and asked for my fried eggs to be VERY well done. The waiter nodded enthusiastically. However, when my breakfast arrived, the yolk was clearly wobbling and when, in the forensic spirit, I pierced it with my fork, there was no denying it: the yolk positively gushed. I asked the waiter if the eggs could be cooked a bit more and twenty minutes later my breakfast reappeared. The eggs were well-done, if not a little incinerated.
You’d think in those twenty minutes they’d have had the time to toast the bread on both sides - but one side was lightly toasted and the other looked as though it had accidently been dropped on a grill and then quickly thrown on the plate in mortal fear of toasting it properly. The Veggie sausages were of the 'Birds Eye' variety and the peas and potato were mushed together into a sausage shape, but were actually surprisingly tasty. I couldn’t justify sitting around reading the papers as people were hovering around, coveting our table. And besides, there’s only so much Jamiroquai I can handle.
37 Camden Passage
Islington
N1 8EA
020 7226 3535
www.the-elk-in-the-woods.co.uk
by Ed Benedict
It was a Saturday morning: the Elk in the Woods was very busy and the music was inexcusably loud (and bad). The breakfast menu was limited but acceptable, containing a full English, a full Veggie (both £6.95) and, for some reason, perhaps to cater for all those Islington 'bohos', two slices of coconut bread (£3).
My expectations were high. The place seemed sophisticated and expensive and the clientele were clearly of the wealthy middle-class media variety. I ordered the full Veggie and asked for no grilled tomatoes or corn on the cob (too much effort to eat first thing in the morning), plus extra mushrooms. I also made clear my extreme aversion to runny yolk and asked for my fried eggs to be VERY well done. The waiter nodded enthusiastically. However, when my breakfast arrived, the yolk was clearly wobbling and when, in the forensic spirit, I pierced it with my fork, there was no denying it: the yolk positively gushed. I asked the waiter if the eggs could be cooked a bit more and twenty minutes later my breakfast reappeared. The eggs were well-done, if not a little incinerated.
You’d think in those twenty minutes they’d have had the time to toast the bread on both sides - but one side was lightly toasted and the other looked as though it had accidently been dropped on a grill and then quickly thrown on the plate in mortal fear of toasting it properly. The Veggie sausages were of the 'Birds Eye' variety and the peas and potato were mushed together into a sausage shape, but were actually surprisingly tasty. I couldn’t justify sitting around reading the papers as people were hovering around, coveting our table. And besides, there’s only so much Jamiroquai I can handle.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
TJ's, Mortlake
TJ’s
57 Sheen Lane
Mortlake
SW14 8AB
020 8605 3555
by Mustapha Sausage
This is standard café business - no frills, a cross section of locals and multiple copies of all the regular newspapers scattered around the place. The staff can be a tad coarse but were friendly enough for 9am on a Sunday.
I ordered cheese on toast with two poached eggs, additional beans and a cup of tea. My vegetarian pal surprised me by joining me on this slightly irregular choice, while her ever-optimistic boyfriend hit the ‘Big Breakfast’. He was asked to choose five breakfast items from a list of around nine and did so wisely, putting together a basic fry up, choosing black pudding over sausage.
Vege-pal and I were swiftly presented with an underwhelming interpretation of our order: white sliced bread blanketed in far too much cheddar cheese with eggs and beans both over-cooked. The spongy bread had been absorbing the fat from the cheese and toast it was not! While I was very hungry and managed most of it, she wasn’t so forgiving and retired back to the Observer lifestyle supplement after eating only a third.
On the other hand, optimistic boyfriend (who’d had a slightly longer wait) was very happy with his. The eggs and beans were far better and the black pudding was excellent.
Overall this place delivers the basic goods and certainly seems popular with the locals. My tip is: stick to the basic formula and you shouldn’t be too disappointed.
57 Sheen Lane
Mortlake
SW14 8AB
020 8605 3555
by Mustapha Sausage
This is standard café business - no frills, a cross section of locals and multiple copies of all the regular newspapers scattered around the place. The staff can be a tad coarse but were friendly enough for 9am on a Sunday.
I ordered cheese on toast with two poached eggs, additional beans and a cup of tea. My vegetarian pal surprised me by joining me on this slightly irregular choice, while her ever-optimistic boyfriend hit the ‘Big Breakfast’. He was asked to choose five breakfast items from a list of around nine and did so wisely, putting together a basic fry up, choosing black pudding over sausage.
Vege-pal and I were swiftly presented with an underwhelming interpretation of our order: white sliced bread blanketed in far too much cheddar cheese with eggs and beans both over-cooked. The spongy bread had been absorbing the fat from the cheese and toast it was not! While I was very hungry and managed most of it, she wasn’t so forgiving and retired back to the Observer lifestyle supplement after eating only a third.
On the other hand, optimistic boyfriend (who’d had a slightly longer wait) was very happy with his. The eggs and beans were far better and the black pudding was excellent.
Overall this place delivers the basic goods and certainly seems popular with the locals. My tip is: stick to the basic formula and you shouldn’t be too disappointed.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Hackney City Farm, Hackney
Hackney City Farm (Frizzante Cafe)
1a Goldsmith's Row
E2 8QA
020 7729 6381
www.hackneycityfarm.co.uk
by Dr Sigmund Fried
After succesfully negotiating our way through the jazz dad-with-pram/bicycle-infested assault course that is London Fields, our afternoon breakfasting party finally made it to its destination. "Do you like farm animals? They let you choose your own pig and then kill it and cook it right in front of you," was how one mendacious and pork-obsessed friend tried to sell the idea of brekking at Hackney City Farm. But he needn't have gone to the trouble of trying to lure me in with such Fearnley Whittingstall-esque dreams. He already had me at "farm animals".
Once in, any fears about whether it would be overrun with 30-something men drinking lattés and discussing the relative merits of Wynton Marsalis were soon allayed: it was actually pleasingly unpretentious with friendly staff and an interior that I can only describe as 'scout hut chic'.
After finding a table in a lovely heated and covered outdoors bit with sawdust on the floor, we ordered at the counter. Having all of us built up a no-breakfast/beer-on-an-empty-stomach appetite, none of us were ever going to go off-piste, menu-wise: too risky. No, all we wanted was a traditional, honest and well cooked fried breakfast, and that indeed is what we got: not by any means gourmet, but certainly a cut above your average greasy spooner, and reasonably priced at £5.50.
Add to that a quaint farmyard (which we spent a good twenty minutes wandering around) at the back of the building with, among other things, pigs (massive), rabbits (furry) and geese (kept my distance), I'm pretty sure a better way to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon in Hackney is hard to find.
1a Goldsmith's Row
E2 8QA
020 7729 6381
www.hackneycityfarm.co.uk
by Dr Sigmund Fried
After succesfully negotiating our way through the jazz dad-with-pram/bicycle-infested assault course that is London Fields, our afternoon breakfasting party finally made it to its destination. "Do you like farm animals? They let you choose your own pig and then kill it and cook it right in front of you," was how one mendacious and pork-obsessed friend tried to sell the idea of brekking at Hackney City Farm. But he needn't have gone to the trouble of trying to lure me in with such Fearnley Whittingstall-esque dreams. He already had me at "farm animals".
Once in, any fears about whether it would be overrun with 30-something men drinking lattés and discussing the relative merits of Wynton Marsalis were soon allayed: it was actually pleasingly unpretentious with friendly staff and an interior that I can only describe as 'scout hut chic'.
After finding a table in a lovely heated and covered outdoors bit with sawdust on the floor, we ordered at the counter. Having all of us built up a no-breakfast/beer-on-an-empty-stomach appetite, none of us were ever going to go off-piste, menu-wise: too risky. No, all we wanted was a traditional, honest and well cooked fried breakfast, and that indeed is what we got: not by any means gourmet, but certainly a cut above your average greasy spooner, and reasonably priced at £5.50.
Add to that a quaint farmyard (which we spent a good twenty minutes wandering around) at the back of the building with, among other things, pigs (massive), rabbits (furry) and geese (kept my distance), I'm pretty sure a better way to spend a lazy Saturday afternoon in Hackney is hard to find.
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
"A Tale of Two Breakfasts": The Tin Goose vs Giraffe, Heathrow Airport
The Tin Goose vs Giraffe
Terminal 1
Heathrow Airport
TW6 1QE
by Herby Banger
Dixons and sleep deprivation can do strange things to man. When you catch yourself thinking about spending £60 on a ticket to enter a raffle for a fast car then you know you're in a dangerous place. That place: Terminal 1 of London’s Heathrow Airport, where I found myself on two early mornings in October 2005...
6th Oct 2005
It was dark and cold outside. I stumbled sleepily under the bright lights trying to find the improbable: a finely cooked breakfast in an airport. My choice was the Tin Goose, a sort of lounge-bar-come-coffee-house. It was dark, yet warm at this early hour. Under its entrance a sign read “Great Food, Great Coffee, Great Bar”. One felt that they only need add “Great Times” to make it complete.
Ordering at the bar I (of course) opted for the English Breakfast, which came in at a whooping £7.95. I waited for its arrival with the café latte of death. Steamed to an outrageous temperature, it tasted more like a cup of napalm and remained undrinkable long after I had left. The breakfast itself, avec the obligatory plastic cutlery and unnecessarily odd shaped dish, wasn’t too bad though. I got eggs, bacon, a free-range pork sausage, tomato, mushrooms, baked beans and toast. The eggs were a bit undercooked, which was annoying but all in all it was a decent attempt. I wasn’t unhappy…but I was far from inspired.
27th Oct 2005
I woke up early again and got my lift to the airport. Checking in was no fuss. It wasn’t long before I found myself standing outside Giraffe. As the name suggests this is a lighter, sunnier affair than the Tin Goose. With its African safari theme, coffee bean world music and happy waiting staff I sat down feeling contented before I had even ordered. Where the Tin Goose had tried to be a Jack-of-all-trades, Giraffe knew what it was: a breakfast/brunch specialist. With countless options to choose from I ordered the 'Full Brunch Plate'; eggs, bacon, sausage, tomato, potato wedges, toast and coffee.
I must admit to enjoying it immensely, everything seemed cooked with care and a slight continental twist set it apart from the normal fare. A superior quality all round was reflected in the taste, which was itself enhanced by a varied range of sauces available on the table. I also enjoyed one of the many fruit smoothies on offer, which gave the experience a healthy, wholesome sheen. At £6.95 it was a pound cheaper than the Tin Goose, and although I do not want to be overly harsh, the Giraffe won this race by a long neck. By far the superior option if you find yourself under the bright lights of Heathrow at dawn.
Terminal 1
Heathrow Airport
TW6 1QE
by Herby Banger
Dixons and sleep deprivation can do strange things to man. When you catch yourself thinking about spending £60 on a ticket to enter a raffle for a fast car then you know you're in a dangerous place. That place: Terminal 1 of London’s Heathrow Airport, where I found myself on two early mornings in October 2005...
6th Oct 2005
It was dark and cold outside. I stumbled sleepily under the bright lights trying to find the improbable: a finely cooked breakfast in an airport. My choice was the Tin Goose, a sort of lounge-bar-come-coffee-house. It was dark, yet warm at this early hour. Under its entrance a sign read “Great Food, Great Coffee, Great Bar”. One felt that they only need add “Great Times” to make it complete.
Ordering at the bar I (of course) opted for the English Breakfast, which came in at a whooping £7.95. I waited for its arrival with the café latte of death. Steamed to an outrageous temperature, it tasted more like a cup of napalm and remained undrinkable long after I had left. The breakfast itself, avec the obligatory plastic cutlery and unnecessarily odd shaped dish, wasn’t too bad though. I got eggs, bacon, a free-range pork sausage, tomato, mushrooms, baked beans and toast. The eggs were a bit undercooked, which was annoying but all in all it was a decent attempt. I wasn’t unhappy…but I was far from inspired.
27th Oct 2005
I woke up early again and got my lift to the airport. Checking in was no fuss. It wasn’t long before I found myself standing outside Giraffe. As the name suggests this is a lighter, sunnier affair than the Tin Goose. With its African safari theme, coffee bean world music and happy waiting staff I sat down feeling contented before I had even ordered. Where the Tin Goose had tried to be a Jack-of-all-trades, Giraffe knew what it was: a breakfast/brunch specialist. With countless options to choose from I ordered the 'Full Brunch Plate'; eggs, bacon, sausage, tomato, potato wedges, toast and coffee.
I must admit to enjoying it immensely, everything seemed cooked with care and a slight continental twist set it apart from the normal fare. A superior quality all round was reflected in the taste, which was itself enhanced by a varied range of sauces available on the table. I also enjoyed one of the many fruit smoothies on offer, which gave the experience a healthy, wholesome sheen. At £6.95 it was a pound cheaper than the Tin Goose, and although I do not want to be overly harsh, the Giraffe won this race by a long neck. By far the superior option if you find yourself under the bright lights of Heathrow at dawn.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Mess, Hackney Central
Mess
38 Amhurst Rd
Hackney Central
E8 1JN
020 8985 3194
Breakfast served: weekdays 7am - 5pm, Saturday 8am - 6pm, Sunday 8am - 4pm
by Hashley Brown
On rainy Sundays when skies are grey, and breakfasting beckons from a more leisurely post-meridian hour it’s reassuring to find a cosy café full of kindred spirits that‘ll serve you a hearty breakfast - and such was the prevailing ambience at Mess.
Grey skied inclement Hackney is never the most inviting of places, but Mess shone through like a glistening jewel of fat in a good gravy. With deep blue walls and enough pine cladding and furniture to put a Scandinavian sauna to shame it had a busyness that was both warm and inviting - it almost effervesced. Still packed right up til its 4pm closing the menu boasted a range of breakfast fare from the Full E. through to various scrambled egg derivatives.
Choices were made, a full English for me, scrambled eggs with smoked salmon for her, accompanied by subsidiary tea and juices. The ‘Mess breakfast’ came with the usual bacon (crispy), egg (runny), mushrooms (done in a pan with butter) and tomatoes (tomato-y) with the addition of hearty fried potatoes and a mysterious sausage. I say mysterious in that its somewhat standard outer appearance belied a herby meaty inner that was pleasantly surprising. Scrambled eggs came in a freshly-cooked moist pile with a more than generous amount of salmon littering the eggy base, all heaped on good white toast. Service too was excellent, with staff not playing a Big Brother eviction charade as soon as they closed, letting the lethargic linger over post-prandial tea.
Breakfast for two for just shy of a tenner - full marks for both, and happy tummies all round
38 Amhurst Rd
Hackney Central
E8 1JN
020 8985 3194
Breakfast served: weekdays 7am - 5pm, Saturday 8am - 6pm, Sunday 8am - 4pm
by Hashley Brown
On rainy Sundays when skies are grey, and breakfasting beckons from a more leisurely post-meridian hour it’s reassuring to find a cosy café full of kindred spirits that‘ll serve you a hearty breakfast - and such was the prevailing ambience at Mess.
Grey skied inclement Hackney is never the most inviting of places, but Mess shone through like a glistening jewel of fat in a good gravy. With deep blue walls and enough pine cladding and furniture to put a Scandinavian sauna to shame it had a busyness that was both warm and inviting - it almost effervesced. Still packed right up til its 4pm closing the menu boasted a range of breakfast fare from the Full E. through to various scrambled egg derivatives.
Choices were made, a full English for me, scrambled eggs with smoked salmon for her, accompanied by subsidiary tea and juices. The ‘Mess breakfast’ came with the usual bacon (crispy), egg (runny), mushrooms (done in a pan with butter) and tomatoes (tomato-y) with the addition of hearty fried potatoes and a mysterious sausage. I say mysterious in that its somewhat standard outer appearance belied a herby meaty inner that was pleasantly surprising. Scrambled eggs came in a freshly-cooked moist pile with a more than generous amount of salmon littering the eggy base, all heaped on good white toast. Service too was excellent, with staff not playing a Big Brother eviction charade as soon as they closed, letting the lethargic linger over post-prandial tea.
Breakfast for two for just shy of a tenner - full marks for both, and happy tummies all round
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Zigfrid, Hoxton Square
Zigfrid
11 Hoxton Square
N1 6NU
020 7613 1988
www.zigfrid.com
by Blake Pudding
After a night on the port with one of my floozies I took a call from Ed Benedict inviting me to breakfast at Zigfrid. Only an idiot would turn down the opportunity to breakfast with Ed. On my way, between bouts of nausea, I tried to picture what this breakfast might be like. I imagined good quality ingredients, haphazard cookery and off-hand service from pretty, studenty, Estonian waitresses. Was I right? Up to a point.
I ordered the full breakfast which was inexplicably called a 'Rock 'n' Roll'. On being asked by Mr Benedict about a vegetarian option, our waitress (thin, blandly pretty, full of the sad longings) replied that it exists but that no one had seen it - as if it was some kind of chimera that lurked in the bowels of the building. Mr Benedict then asked for his eggs to be well done, egg philistine that he is. The breakfasts arrived and they had solidified my eggs too!! I was speechless with rage but also starving so I manfully bit my tongue and tucked in.
The sausage was a quality item, bursting with delicious piggy goodness. The bacon was good too if a little under done for my tastes. The mushrooms were truly excellent and the eggs, despite their solidity, were poached properly. I started to warm to Zigfrid. Even the potato wedges which I had initially pooh-poohed as a starch too far were delicious. As my hangover subsided and my breakfast went down my mood changed to one of quiet contentment and by the end of the meal I swear I saw our waitress smile.
11 Hoxton Square
N1 6NU
020 7613 1988
www.zigfrid.com
by Blake Pudding
After a night on the port with one of my floozies I took a call from Ed Benedict inviting me to breakfast at Zigfrid. Only an idiot would turn down the opportunity to breakfast with Ed. On my way, between bouts of nausea, I tried to picture what this breakfast might be like. I imagined good quality ingredients, haphazard cookery and off-hand service from pretty, studenty, Estonian waitresses. Was I right? Up to a point.
I ordered the full breakfast which was inexplicably called a 'Rock 'n' Roll'. On being asked by Mr Benedict about a vegetarian option, our waitress (thin, blandly pretty, full of the sad longings) replied that it exists but that no one had seen it - as if it was some kind of chimera that lurked in the bowels of the building. Mr Benedict then asked for his eggs to be well done, egg philistine that he is. The breakfasts arrived and they had solidified my eggs too!! I was speechless with rage but also starving so I manfully bit my tongue and tucked in.
The sausage was a quality item, bursting with delicious piggy goodness. The bacon was good too if a little under done for my tastes. The mushrooms were truly excellent and the eggs, despite their solidity, were poached properly. I started to warm to Zigfrid. Even the potato wedges which I had initially pooh-poohed as a starch too far were delicious. As my hangover subsided and my breakfast went down my mood changed to one of quiet contentment and by the end of the meal I swear I saw our waitress smile.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Rustique, Tufnell Park
Rustique
142 Fortess Road
Tufnell Park
NW5 2HP
020 7692 559
by Blake Pudding
Weary of the £3.50 full English joints of Kentish Town, I headed towards Tufnell Park, to a café called Rustique. I was accompanied by publicist extraordinaire Nicolette Praca. Nicci has worked with the great Jeffrey Steingarten, so she knows a thing or two about food.
I should have been wary of this place billing itself as a 'literary cafe'. The whole place so reeked of pretension, right down to the Edith Piaf on the stereo, it would not have seemed out of place in Greenwich Village. I ordered pancakes with maple syrup and a cafe latté. The pancakes were obviously microwaved from frozen and were accompanied by aerosol cream. Nicci ordered the continental breakfast, which consisted of two small croissants, a tiny amount of jam, portion-controlled butter and three pieces of cheese. The croissants, by the way, were excellent - mainly, I imagine, because the staff had had nothing to do with them.
I hated this place. I hated the smug assumption behind it that because of the faux-bohemian atmosphere and the fact that some of the clientele look a bit like Salman Rushdie that they can get away with atrocious, over-priced food and gormless service. What I hated about it the most was that most of customers seemed content with it. If they noticed how they were being ripped-off then they did not seem to mind. We are often told that this country has undergone a culinary revolution in the last twenty years. The existence of Rustique suggests otherwise.
142 Fortess Road
Tufnell Park
NW5 2HP
020 7692 559
by Blake Pudding
Weary of the £3.50 full English joints of Kentish Town, I headed towards Tufnell Park, to a café called Rustique. I was accompanied by publicist extraordinaire Nicolette Praca. Nicci has worked with the great Jeffrey Steingarten, so she knows a thing or two about food.
I should have been wary of this place billing itself as a 'literary cafe'. The whole place so reeked of pretension, right down to the Edith Piaf on the stereo, it would not have seemed out of place in Greenwich Village. I ordered pancakes with maple syrup and a cafe latté. The pancakes were obviously microwaved from frozen and were accompanied by aerosol cream. Nicci ordered the continental breakfast, which consisted of two small croissants, a tiny amount of jam, portion-controlled butter and three pieces of cheese. The croissants, by the way, were excellent - mainly, I imagine, because the staff had had nothing to do with them.
I hated this place. I hated the smug assumption behind it that because of the faux-bohemian atmosphere and the fact that some of the clientele look a bit like Salman Rushdie that they can get away with atrocious, over-priced food and gormless service. What I hated about it the most was that most of customers seemed content with it. If they noticed how they were being ripped-off then they did not seem to mind. We are often told that this country has undergone a culinary revolution in the last twenty years. The existence of Rustique suggests otherwise.
Thursday, November 03, 2005
Moonbow Jakes, Brockley
Moonbow Jakes
325 Brockley Road
SE4 2QZ
020 8694 9128
www.moonbowjakes.co.uk
by Tommy Kay, Pam Cakes & Sian Flakes
Sitting pretty between the ubiquitous video rental store and local newsagents, it feels like Moonbow Jakes is vying for the title of number one 'Mediterranean-Beatnik-Coffee-House-cum-Caff' in the leafy ‘burb that is Brockley. With its lolloping service (is there table service or not? depends how the staff feel) and saffeast london accent, it kind of manages.
Our tummies were denied the greasy satisfaction that only a fry up can provide, but the sandwich brunch menu on offer proved that if it can’t be done on a sandwich, it ain’t worth doing at all. Between us we sampled the 'Big Breakfast Toastie', containing the holy trinity of breakfast ingredients: eggs (scrambled), bacon and mushrooms, lovingly squashed in wholemeal bread; and the 'Moonbow Muncher': this classic tuna melt probably looked the least appetising but like all ugly ducklings, made up for in taste what it lacked in looks. But it was the 'Double Decker' that was surprise winner of the day. On first inspection the pairing of 2 sandwiches, one with cheese, pineapple and onion, the other a mushroom and sundried tomato seemed like a combination straight out of Abigail’s Party. But it worked - the cheese was suitably gooey, the tomatoes perfectly salty and the bread……oh the bread. As any sandwich aficionado knows, it’s all in the bread.
Our streetside seats provided unexpected entertainment in the form of teenager and traffic watching, and at £9 for 3 of us, you can’t really ask for much more from your local caff; except maybe live music, changing art exhibitions, a wine list and a more grown-up evening mezze menu. All of which you can find at Moonbow Jakes, sliding it into the coveted position of our favourite 'Mediterranean-Beatnik-Coffee-House-cum-Caff' in Brockley.
325 Brockley Road
SE4 2QZ
020 8694 9128
www.moonbowjakes.co.uk
by Tommy Kay, Pam Cakes & Sian Flakes
Sitting pretty between the ubiquitous video rental store and local newsagents, it feels like Moonbow Jakes is vying for the title of number one 'Mediterranean-Beatnik-Coffee-House-cum-Caff' in the leafy ‘burb that is Brockley. With its lolloping service (is there table service or not? depends how the staff feel) and saffeast london accent, it kind of manages.
Our tummies were denied the greasy satisfaction that only a fry up can provide, but the sandwich brunch menu on offer proved that if it can’t be done on a sandwich, it ain’t worth doing at all. Between us we sampled the 'Big Breakfast Toastie', containing the holy trinity of breakfast ingredients: eggs (scrambled), bacon and mushrooms, lovingly squashed in wholemeal bread; and the 'Moonbow Muncher': this classic tuna melt probably looked the least appetising but like all ugly ducklings, made up for in taste what it lacked in looks. But it was the 'Double Decker' that was surprise winner of the day. On first inspection the pairing of 2 sandwiches, one with cheese, pineapple and onion, the other a mushroom and sundried tomato seemed like a combination straight out of Abigail’s Party. But it worked - the cheese was suitably gooey, the tomatoes perfectly salty and the bread……oh the bread. As any sandwich aficionado knows, it’s all in the bread.
Our streetside seats provided unexpected entertainment in the form of teenager and traffic watching, and at £9 for 3 of us, you can’t really ask for much more from your local caff; except maybe live music, changing art exhibitions, a wine list and a more grown-up evening mezze menu. All of which you can find at Moonbow Jakes, sliding it into the coveted position of our favourite 'Mediterranean-Beatnik-Coffee-House-cum-Caff' in Brockley.
Monday, October 31, 2005
The Bagel Factory, Euston
The Bagel Factory
Mobile Unit 5
The Piazza
Euston Station
Euston
WC1H 2DN
www.bagelfactory.co.uk
020 7407 7616
by Mabel Syrup
It has long been my belief that England cannot create an authentic bagel. To be fair the bar that they are measured up against is one I had in New York which has had me reminiscing for over nine years. Is this too long to hold on to a memory? Will anything ever be able to match up?
Having watched a friend on countless mornings rustling at paper to uncover a Bagel Factory bagel nestled in the folds I was becoming increasingly intrigued - so when she offered me a free bagel courtesy of her loyalty card’s ten stamps I gratefully accepted. Would this be the place that would satisfy nine years of dreaming?
The ‘Egg Works with Sausage on Sesame with Ketchup’, however, was an insult to the entire concept of a bagel.
The so called scrambled egg - which presumably in their minds is the key to the ‘Eggworks’ name - had been microwaved in a round mould the shape of the bagel, so that it bore not even a passing resemblance to the (doubtlessly battery) hen’s egg it (hopefully) originated from. The sausage had been cut into thin strips (if it had not actually been formed this way to start off with) and somehow had both a grey appearance AND texture. It is not even possible to grade it on an OCIS basis. I can’t even bring myself to mention the cheese. And the bagel? Untoasted for a start, the ‘chewy flavour and grainy warm aroma’ the Bagel Factory’s website talks about was noticeably absent.
My advice? Go to New York. Stick to cream cheese. And never try bagels in Euston.
Mobile Unit 5
The Piazza
Euston Station
Euston
WC1H 2DN
www.bagelfactory.co.uk
020 7407 7616
by Mabel Syrup
It has long been my belief that England cannot create an authentic bagel. To be fair the bar that they are measured up against is one I had in New York which has had me reminiscing for over nine years. Is this too long to hold on to a memory? Will anything ever be able to match up?
Having watched a friend on countless mornings rustling at paper to uncover a Bagel Factory bagel nestled in the folds I was becoming increasingly intrigued - so when she offered me a free bagel courtesy of her loyalty card’s ten stamps I gratefully accepted. Would this be the place that would satisfy nine years of dreaming?
The ‘Egg Works with Sausage on Sesame with Ketchup’, however, was an insult to the entire concept of a bagel.
The so called scrambled egg - which presumably in their minds is the key to the ‘Eggworks’ name - had been microwaved in a round mould the shape of the bagel, so that it bore not even a passing resemblance to the (doubtlessly battery) hen’s egg it (hopefully) originated from. The sausage had been cut into thin strips (if it had not actually been formed this way to start off with) and somehow had both a grey appearance AND texture. It is not even possible to grade it on an OCIS basis. I can’t even bring myself to mention the cheese. And the bagel? Untoasted for a start, the ‘chewy flavour and grainy warm aroma’ the Bagel Factory’s website talks about was noticeably absent.
My advice? Go to New York. Stick to cream cheese. And never try bagels in Euston.
Hugo's, Queens Park
Hugo’s
25 Lonsdale Road
Queens Park
NW6 6RA
020 7372 1232
by Hashley Brown
Some days are perfect for breakfast, and one that affords you an extra hour in bed (thanks to the farmers/children/daylight savings activists) is pre-destined for greatness.
Heading to Queen’s Park at the behest and recommendation of good friends I found myself not in the aimless NW-nowhere suburb that I expected, but joining an elegant, vibrant Sunday morning community. Stopping off at the farmers market en-route I started the day not entirely unlike a bracing seafront stroll, with an oyster, prised open at the stall, and taken in one fell swoop that cleared both the palette and all memories of the night before.
Pre-prandial seafood excursions completed, and to cut to the point, we came upon Hugo’s. Previously “The Organic Café” and the first Soil Association certified organic café in the UK, this is a gem of a breakfasting venue. Tucked in an old workshop on Lonsdale Road, it has the worn-in charm of a long-standing café that is both homely and successful.
Good black coffee preceded a full English that scored full marks for both ingredients and cooking. The quality of the meat was top-notch, naturally organic, and clearly untampered with. A premium herby sausage was paired with a single rasher of thick cut bacon, which maintained its succulence whilst the fat was rendered to a beautiful golden crunch. Add to this buttery pan cooked mushrooms, grilled tomato, perfectly fried egg on white toast and fried potatoes and you have a gloriously substantial breakfast with more integrity than a prospective Tory leader. With or without an oyster-aperitif this is breakfasting at its best.
25 Lonsdale Road
Queens Park
NW6 6RA
020 7372 1232
by Hashley Brown
Some days are perfect for breakfast, and one that affords you an extra hour in bed (thanks to the farmers/children/daylight savings activists) is pre-destined for greatness.
Heading to Queen’s Park at the behest and recommendation of good friends I found myself not in the aimless NW-nowhere suburb that I expected, but joining an elegant, vibrant Sunday morning community. Stopping off at the farmers market en-route I started the day not entirely unlike a bracing seafront stroll, with an oyster, prised open at the stall, and taken in one fell swoop that cleared both the palette and all memories of the night before.
Pre-prandial seafood excursions completed, and to cut to the point, we came upon Hugo’s. Previously “The Organic Café” and the first Soil Association certified organic café in the UK, this is a gem of a breakfasting venue. Tucked in an old workshop on Lonsdale Road, it has the worn-in charm of a long-standing café that is both homely and successful.
Good black coffee preceded a full English that scored full marks for both ingredients and cooking. The quality of the meat was top-notch, naturally organic, and clearly untampered with. A premium herby sausage was paired with a single rasher of thick cut bacon, which maintained its succulence whilst the fat was rendered to a beautiful golden crunch. Add to this buttery pan cooked mushrooms, grilled tomato, perfectly fried egg on white toast and fried potatoes and you have a gloriously substantial breakfast with more integrity than a prospective Tory leader. With or without an oyster-aperitif this is breakfasting at its best.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Rossi Restaurant, Spitalfields
***CLOSED***
8 Hanbury St
Spitalfields
E1 6QR
020 72472490
by Malcolm Eggs
Spitalfields is where the glass and steel environs of the City give way to the history and character of old working London, the bustle of the Bangladeshi community and the four thousand haircuts of a thousand aspiring creatives. The corner of Commercial and Hanbury Streets is the recreational hub of the local artistic community: for ales you have the Golden Heart, the pub beloved of Tracey Emin – and for the resulting breakfast you have Rossi, the Italian greasy spoon frequented by Gilbert Proesch and George Passmore aka Gilbert and George.
There are four set choices, none priced at more than £4.10. Number one is for the traditionalists, a perfectly weighted combo of sausage, bacon, beans, egg and toast. Number two introduces some bubble and squeak into the landscape at the expense of the beans. A number three is bacon, eggs, chips and toast. And a number four is one of those avant-garde combinations involving something to do with lamb chops.
We tried the one and the three. They were deeply splendid renditions of old classics, more Kleiber’s realisation of Beethoven's 5th than Gates’s version of Unchained Melody. The bacon was crispy and entirely without sweaty white fat and although the sausage was of the humble variety found in plastic-chaired establishments across the land, it fulfilled all the potential it had with gusto. The egg was over easy and immaculate: not a drop of yolk wasted, not a blob of white spared. The chips were excellent as were the beans, toast and tea: excellent - and hot.
Our plates soon lay empty. A warm, happy glow ensued. This was a breakfasting tour de force.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
The Oxford, Kentish Town
The Oxford
256 Kentish Town Road
Kentish Town
NW5 2AA
020 7485 3521
by Hashley Brown
It’s a shame, and much to The Oxford’s disadvantage, that the ubiquitous Burger King empire has taken all proprietary rights on the ‘chargrilled’ taste sensation. The humble BBQ has escaped this branding due to a national inability to anything but cremate dinner during all home attempts at chargrilling; but for this newly refurb’ed gastro-eatery the comparisons are unnervingly accurate.
First things first, it looks good. A hefty pub recently kitted out in the North London Gastro Super Store’s latest line – Pensive Yet Elegant; large wooden tables, black walls, gigantic mirrors, the odd chandelier. OK, so it looks like almost any other recently gentrified aspirational pub but it’s not a bad look. The open kitchen at the back serves a selected brunch menu, which on paper looked like a worthy morning adversary - and on the plate it looked good too. Sausage, bacon, black pudding, egg(s), tomato, beans, toast; and not just your normal ingredients either: meaty butchers sausage (although I prefer a rougher cut), thick bacon, vine tomato, some sort of Italianate bread – all pretty fancy.
But as my father has always said: good ingredients in the hands of an average chef will always be less than the sum of their parts – or something. Basically it tasted rubbish. Everything was chargrilled – which made everything taste a lot like a bacon double cheeseburger. Any breakfast where each bite leaves you trying to recall a flavour, only to finally realise the taste is that of a garish fast food chain, will unnerve even the most gastronomically challenged diner. Bacon should taste like bacon, not a burger. Sausages should taste like sausages, not a burger. Toast should taste like… I think you get the idea.
256 Kentish Town Road
Kentish Town
NW5 2AA
020 7485 3521
by Hashley Brown
It’s a shame, and much to The Oxford’s disadvantage, that the ubiquitous Burger King empire has taken all proprietary rights on the ‘chargrilled’ taste sensation. The humble BBQ has escaped this branding due to a national inability to anything but cremate dinner during all home attempts at chargrilling; but for this newly refurb’ed gastro-eatery the comparisons are unnervingly accurate.
First things first, it looks good. A hefty pub recently kitted out in the North London Gastro Super Store’s latest line – Pensive Yet Elegant; large wooden tables, black walls, gigantic mirrors, the odd chandelier. OK, so it looks like almost any other recently gentrified aspirational pub but it’s not a bad look. The open kitchen at the back serves a selected brunch menu, which on paper looked like a worthy morning adversary - and on the plate it looked good too. Sausage, bacon, black pudding, egg(s), tomato, beans, toast; and not just your normal ingredients either: meaty butchers sausage (although I prefer a rougher cut), thick bacon, vine tomato, some sort of Italianate bread – all pretty fancy.
But as my father has always said: good ingredients in the hands of an average chef will always be less than the sum of their parts – or something. Basically it tasted rubbish. Everything was chargrilled – which made everything taste a lot like a bacon double cheeseburger. Any breakfast where each bite leaves you trying to recall a flavour, only to finally realise the taste is that of a garish fast food chain, will unnerve even the most gastronomically challenged diner. Bacon should taste like bacon, not a burger. Sausages should taste like sausages, not a burger. Toast should taste like… I think you get the idea.
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Taste Buds, Palmers Green
Taste Buds
306 Green Lanes
Palmers Green
N13 5TT
020 8886 0390
by Blake Pudding
To Taste Buds on London's increasingly fashionable Green Lanes I took the those two delightful Takabayashi sisters, who I always find irresistible at any time of day. After last week's horror at the hands of the old foe, I was delighted to find that this cafe was run by Greek Cypriots.
I went for that brunch stand by of sausage, egg and chips with a mug of tea. Regarding the latter, I received a letter from a Mr Konsani concerning the subject of which beverage to take with his morning repast. I do agree that a nice cup of tea is the perfect thing with an English breakfast. It cuts through the grease and refreshes the palate. Last week, however, as I was in a French cafe I feel that it would have been utter madness to order the tea.
Anyway, I digress. Breakfast came promptly though the asked for glass of water never materialised. The chips were excellent, perfectly crisp and golden. The eggs had been prepared using a "mould" which is normally the mark of a dishonest or incompetent cook. A fresh egg will never run in the pan. In the end, one of the eggs was well prepared with a runny yolk though the other was fit only for that breakfast heretic, Ed Benedict (if that really is his name). Only one sausage came with the breakfast which was disappointing though not as disappointing as the extra sausage when it arrived. It had been spliced down the middle and heated up quickly in less than fresh looking grease. The quality of the sausages was low but they were not inedible. For all this I was charged £3.25. It was a satisfactory meal - but not one for the true breakfast lover.
306 Green Lanes
Palmers Green
N13 5TT
020 8886 0390
by Blake Pudding
To Taste Buds on London's increasingly fashionable Green Lanes I took the those two delightful Takabayashi sisters, who I always find irresistible at any time of day. After last week's horror at the hands of the old foe, I was delighted to find that this cafe was run by Greek Cypriots.
I went for that brunch stand by of sausage, egg and chips with a mug of tea. Regarding the latter, I received a letter from a Mr Konsani concerning the subject of which beverage to take with his morning repast. I do agree that a nice cup of tea is the perfect thing with an English breakfast. It cuts through the grease and refreshes the palate. Last week, however, as I was in a French cafe I feel that it would have been utter madness to order the tea.
Anyway, I digress. Breakfast came promptly though the asked for glass of water never materialised. The chips were excellent, perfectly crisp and golden. The eggs had been prepared using a "mould" which is normally the mark of a dishonest or incompetent cook. A fresh egg will never run in the pan. In the end, one of the eggs was well prepared with a runny yolk though the other was fit only for that breakfast heretic, Ed Benedict (if that really is his name). Only one sausage came with the breakfast which was disappointing though not as disappointing as the extra sausage when it arrived. It had been spliced down the middle and heated up quickly in less than fresh looking grease. The quality of the sausages was low but they were not inedible. For all this I was charged £3.25. It was a satisfactory meal - but not one for the true breakfast lover.
Friday, October 21, 2005
Black Cherry, East Dulwich
Black Cherry
21 Lordship Lane
East Dulwich
SE22 8EW
020 8299 8877
by Herby Banger
It had been a night to remember: the last of the summer's BBQs, the triumphant return of an old friend culminating in an impromptu house party. For all these reasons I awoke the next morning in dire need of a quality breakfast.
Grabbing some breakfasting fellows we set off gingerly for the new kid on the East Dulwich block: Black Cherry, on Lordship Lane.
The menu was small, in choice and in literal size, a sort of delicate watermarked card that I wanted to crush in my hand. It suited the Laura Ashley wallpaper but not my mood. Thoughts that this place was all wrong for what I needed were increasing. Could this bar be trusted to cook me a hearty breakfast at 12 in the afternoon?
Maybe it was the price of the furnishings. They were nice all in all, but they seemed to be trying to pay it off with the rates attributed to the food: an excessive £6.50 for the Eggs Benedict, which featured not once or twice but three times on the menu. I went for the version featuring honey roasted ham, expecting that they must have pride in the dish if it consisted of over half the menu. As you can tell, I’ve built this up for the inevitable let down - and what a waste of time it was. A flat lifeless muffin, an overcooked egg and hollandaise which was sour and vinegary. It would have been instantly forgettable if it wasn't so disappointing.
Although one of my friends enjoyed his mixed omelette (£5.50) and I was intrigued by the Bacon Door Stop Sandwich (£3.50), I must tell you that there are infinitely better breakfasts to be had in the Dulwich area, so you have no excuse if you end up here.
21 Lordship Lane
East Dulwich
SE22 8EW
020 8299 8877
by Herby Banger
It had been a night to remember: the last of the summer's BBQs, the triumphant return of an old friend culminating in an impromptu house party. For all these reasons I awoke the next morning in dire need of a quality breakfast.
Grabbing some breakfasting fellows we set off gingerly for the new kid on the East Dulwich block: Black Cherry, on Lordship Lane.
The menu was small, in choice and in literal size, a sort of delicate watermarked card that I wanted to crush in my hand. It suited the Laura Ashley wallpaper but not my mood. Thoughts that this place was all wrong for what I needed were increasing. Could this bar be trusted to cook me a hearty breakfast at 12 in the afternoon?
Maybe it was the price of the furnishings. They were nice all in all, but they seemed to be trying to pay it off with the rates attributed to the food: an excessive £6.50 for the Eggs Benedict, which featured not once or twice but three times on the menu. I went for the version featuring honey roasted ham, expecting that they must have pride in the dish if it consisted of over half the menu. As you can tell, I’ve built this up for the inevitable let down - and what a waste of time it was. A flat lifeless muffin, an overcooked egg and hollandaise which was sour and vinegary. It would have been instantly forgettable if it wasn't so disappointing.
Although one of my friends enjoyed his mixed omelette (£5.50) and I was intrigued by the Bacon Door Stop Sandwich (£3.50), I must tell you that there are infinitely better breakfasts to be had in the Dulwich area, so you have no excuse if you end up here.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Konstam, King's Cross
***KONSTAM HAS NOW CLOSED***
Konstam
109 King’s Cross Road
London
WC1 X 9LR
Tel: 0207 833 5040
by Dr Sigmund Fried
It’s taken me four months to actually get through the door of this wonderful café/restaurant; four months of regularly cycling past, looking longingly through its big window and thinking ‘Gosh, that place looks lovely – I’ll have to take some friends there very soon …’ (which meant, a couple of times, that I nearly got far too intimate with the back end of a braking bus). It is the incongruousness of Konstam’s stylish façade with its hefty and long wooden tables which appealed to me most. Looking like the type of place you’d perhaps expect to find on Stoke Newington Church St, its juxtaposition with some very ordinary buildings either side - a generic Irish pub; unremarkable terraced housing; a ‘massage’ parlour – renders it a lighthouse of hope in the fog-ridden, rock-strewn sea that is King’s Cross. What’s more, the benefit of it not being in Stokey is that there aren’t any smug, Berghaus-clad ‘oh-aren’t-we-so-liberal’ parents trying to force-feed their bawling off-spring tofu to ruin it.
But appearances can be deceptive. Would the food fulfill the promise of the paint job? Well, after an almost painful struggle to decide what to have from the extensive brunch menu - which includes fresh cut grapefruit with brown sugar; scrambled eggs on toast with chorizo or smoked salmon; eggs benedict or florentine; pancakes or French toast with eggs, bacon & maple syrup – I plumped for Konstam’s twist on old faithful: bacon, eggs, mushrooms, slow roast tomatoes & toast. At £5.80 not including tea it isn’t exactly cheap, but then you do have to pay for quality – and that’s what you get. Put simply, it’s one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in a long time: top-notch ingredients expertly cooked. Add to that a lovely atmosphere and great, friendly service and you know what you’ve got? A new regular customer.
Konstam
109 King’s Cross Road
London
WC1 X 9LR
Tel: 0207 833 5040
by Dr Sigmund Fried
It’s taken me four months to actually get through the door of this wonderful café/restaurant; four months of regularly cycling past, looking longingly through its big window and thinking ‘Gosh, that place looks lovely – I’ll have to take some friends there very soon …’ (which meant, a couple of times, that I nearly got far too intimate with the back end of a braking bus). It is the incongruousness of Konstam’s stylish façade with its hefty and long wooden tables which appealed to me most. Looking like the type of place you’d perhaps expect to find on Stoke Newington Church St, its juxtaposition with some very ordinary buildings either side - a generic Irish pub; unremarkable terraced housing; a ‘massage’ parlour – renders it a lighthouse of hope in the fog-ridden, rock-strewn sea that is King’s Cross. What’s more, the benefit of it not being in Stokey is that there aren’t any smug, Berghaus-clad ‘oh-aren’t-we-so-liberal’ parents trying to force-feed their bawling off-spring tofu to ruin it.
But appearances can be deceptive. Would the food fulfill the promise of the paint job? Well, after an almost painful struggle to decide what to have from the extensive brunch menu - which includes fresh cut grapefruit with brown sugar; scrambled eggs on toast with chorizo or smoked salmon; eggs benedict or florentine; pancakes or French toast with eggs, bacon & maple syrup – I plumped for Konstam’s twist on old faithful: bacon, eggs, mushrooms, slow roast tomatoes & toast. At £5.80 not including tea it isn’t exactly cheap, but then you do have to pay for quality – and that’s what you get. Put simply, it’s one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in a long time: top-notch ingredients expertly cooked. Add to that a lovely atmosphere and great, friendly service and you know what you’ve got? A new regular customer.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Village Café, Gospel Oak
Village Café
147 Highgate rd
Gospel Oak
NW5 1LJ
020 7267 1840
by Hashley Brown
A quick perusal of the Village Café menu with its multi-combo breakfast deals was sufficient to ascertain a few basics. The sausage would be of the long, deep fried variety, bacon would probably be cooked on one side, and the ketchup would be some non-Heinz catering substitute. This aside the only notable feature was the offer of a selection of “home-made food”, casting a certain shadow of gastronomic doubt over the origins of the rest of the menu.
A long, slightly ramshackle establishment, the formica tables came with a complimentary copy of the Daily Star – a red-top that seems to shout all its headlines in near-illiterate four word rants, whilst apparently believing that reporting what happened in last night’s Corrie counts as news. Reading the heart breaking news of EGG MAN CHILD DEATH it became apparent that a cheery demeanour was definitely not on the must-haves list for their waiting staff - however what arrived was a breakfast that hit the spot.
As Malcolm Eggs tucked into his hearty omelette (with its own extended family of chips), my sausage, eggs, bacon, tomato, and toast filled a greasy meaty yearning that befits an early Sunday afternoon breakfast. Sausage quality aside, the cooking was good – crispy bacon, runny yet firm egg, and well griddled tomatoes. Sated, and initial expectations exceeded, I wasn’t disappointed. Don’t expect too much and you’ll be happy with your Village Café breakfast – just take your own paper.
147 Highgate rd
Gospel Oak
NW5 1LJ
020 7267 1840
by Hashley Brown
A quick perusal of the Village Café menu with its multi-combo breakfast deals was sufficient to ascertain a few basics. The sausage would be of the long, deep fried variety, bacon would probably be cooked on one side, and the ketchup would be some non-Heinz catering substitute. This aside the only notable feature was the offer of a selection of “home-made food”, casting a certain shadow of gastronomic doubt over the origins of the rest of the menu.
A long, slightly ramshackle establishment, the formica tables came with a complimentary copy of the Daily Star – a red-top that seems to shout all its headlines in near-illiterate four word rants, whilst apparently believing that reporting what happened in last night’s Corrie counts as news. Reading the heart breaking news of EGG MAN CHILD DEATH it became apparent that a cheery demeanour was definitely not on the must-haves list for their waiting staff - however what arrived was a breakfast that hit the spot.
As Malcolm Eggs tucked into his hearty omelette (with its own extended family of chips), my sausage, eggs, bacon, tomato, and toast filled a greasy meaty yearning that befits an early Sunday afternoon breakfast. Sausage quality aside, the cooking was good – crispy bacon, runny yet firm egg, and well griddled tomatoes. Sated, and initial expectations exceeded, I wasn’t disappointed. Don’t expect too much and you’ll be happy with your Village Café breakfast – just take your own paper.
Smiths of Smithfield, Farringdon
Smiths of Smithfield
67-77 Charterhouse Street
Farringdon
EC1M 6HJ
020 7251 7950
www.smithsofsmithfield.co.uk
by Ed Benedict
Smiths of Smithfield is located in the heart of London’s meat packing district. Some vegetarians might not want to walk through this environment, but as a practising herbivore who lives above a butcher I’ve become accustomed to waking up to the sound of sawing - and stepping over buckets of organs has become a part of my morning routine.
At 9am, Smiths was packed. Loud dance music and a black, warehouse-like interior give it a lively, buzzy feel and the reasonably priced breakfast menu had everything from a full English to pancakes to porridge. The coffee was good (although with a bit too much froth on the latte) and the orange juice was freshly squeezed.
As an avid fan of fungi I was hugely excited to see 5 juicy tasty mushrooms on thick chunky toast on the menu, but my breakfast companion unfortunately wasn’t as thrilled. He complained that his bacon was slightly over done and difficult to cut and although the sausages were good and you can’t really go wrong with baked beans he was expecting his brown toast to be freshly cut rather than pre-sliced. Everything was warm as opposed to piping hot and overall he didn’t feel hugely satisfied. On the sunny side up, it’s open from 7am (although not on weekends), the service was excellent and the setting is unusual and interesting.
67-77 Charterhouse Street
Farringdon
EC1M 6HJ
020 7251 7950
www.smithsofsmithfield.co.uk
by Ed Benedict
Smiths of Smithfield is located in the heart of London’s meat packing district. Some vegetarians might not want to walk through this environment, but as a practising herbivore who lives above a butcher I’ve become accustomed to waking up to the sound of sawing - and stepping over buckets of organs has become a part of my morning routine.
At 9am, Smiths was packed. Loud dance music and a black, warehouse-like interior give it a lively, buzzy feel and the reasonably priced breakfast menu had everything from a full English to pancakes to porridge. The coffee was good (although with a bit too much froth on the latte) and the orange juice was freshly squeezed.
As an avid fan of fungi I was hugely excited to see 5 juicy tasty mushrooms on thick chunky toast on the menu, but my breakfast companion unfortunately wasn’t as thrilled. He complained that his bacon was slightly over done and difficult to cut and although the sausages were good and you can’t really go wrong with baked beans he was expecting his brown toast to be freshly cut rather than pre-sliced. Everything was warm as opposed to piping hot and overall he didn’t feel hugely satisfied. On the sunny side up, it’s open from 7am (although not on weekends), the service was excellent and the setting is unusual and interesting.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Patisserie Valérie, Soho
Pâtisserie Valérie
44 Old Compton Street
Soho
W1D 5JX
020 7437 3466
by Blake Pudding
Accompanying me to Soho's famed Patisserie Valérie were the godfather of molecular gastronomy, Harold McGee, fresh from a whistle stop tour of Europe's culinary hot spots, and his esteemed editor, Richard Atkinson. McGee's tour had taken in the Fat Duck at Bray and El Bulli near Girona and after such experimental cookery, I thought where better to take him than somewhere classic and dependable like Pat Val (as my great aunt the Comtessa de Castiglione calls it- dreadful woman that she is).
We all ordered eggs benedict reasoning that it is always good to order something that you would not normally prepare for yourself. When Harold had mentioned that it was impossible to get properly poached eggs in the States, Richard and I had smiled smugly at each other. We should not have been so confident. The hollandaise was runny and tasteless and the eggs, which had no flavour at all, had been 'poached' in an egg 'poacher' rather than prepared properly in gently bubbling water. To mitigate, the coffee was excellent as was the service and the company. The eggs benedict was £6 with the coffees costing £2 so this was a premium though not extortionate breakfast.
The croissants and the cakes here are always excellent so perhaps the mistake was ours to entrust a Frenchman with a cooked breakfast. With these things one needs an Englishman or perhaps a Greek Cypriot.
44 Old Compton Street
Soho
W1D 5JX
020 7437 3466
by Blake Pudding
Accompanying me to Soho's famed Patisserie Valérie were the godfather of molecular gastronomy, Harold McGee, fresh from a whistle stop tour of Europe's culinary hot spots, and his esteemed editor, Richard Atkinson. McGee's tour had taken in the Fat Duck at Bray and El Bulli near Girona and after such experimental cookery, I thought where better to take him than somewhere classic and dependable like Pat Val (as my great aunt the Comtessa de Castiglione calls it- dreadful woman that she is).
We all ordered eggs benedict reasoning that it is always good to order something that you would not normally prepare for yourself. When Harold had mentioned that it was impossible to get properly poached eggs in the States, Richard and I had smiled smugly at each other. We should not have been so confident. The hollandaise was runny and tasteless and the eggs, which had no flavour at all, had been 'poached' in an egg 'poacher' rather than prepared properly in gently bubbling water. To mitigate, the coffee was excellent as was the service and the company. The eggs benedict was £6 with the coffees costing £2 so this was a premium though not extortionate breakfast.
The croissants and the cakes here are always excellent so perhaps the mistake was ours to entrust a Frenchman with a cooked breakfast. With these things one needs an Englishman or perhaps a Greek Cypriot.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Brassino, Kentish Town
Brassino Café
287 Kentish Town Road
Kentish Town
NW5 2JS
020 7485 2819
by Hashley Brown
Small plates. That’s the secret. You manage to satisfy both the glutton and the penny-watcher in your potential breakfaster. It works like this: your average affordable breakfast can only have so many elements, (unless we’re talking a Little Chef Olympic Breakfast, which we’re not). On a big plate they lounge about in relative ceramic luxury and the eater feels a bit miffed wondering where all the food is. Squeeze those same elements onto a more diminutive platter, they jostle happily against each other, and it feels like there's so much food it's falling off the sides - perception is everything.
So. Brassino’s has small plates, which is a winner. They also hand-cut their bread fresh from a big sandwich loaf, which means chunky doorsteps of crunchy buttery toast, a good start to any breakfast. At £4 for sausage, bacon, egg, beans, tomatoes, toast and tea, this comes in as an eminently affordable start to the day. As ever the sausage could have been better, although in its favour, its unusual length gave it a humorous quality as yet un-encountered.
Whilst the outside is somewhat nondescript, Brassino’s feels like the kind of place a young Michael Caine may well have taken his daily egg and chips. Hidden behind a wall of plants in the window, it takes on a very local, slightly gloomy feel that makes it perfect for a rainy Saturday morning. The food was good, the service friendly, and the small plates made me happy.
287 Kentish Town Road
Kentish Town
NW5 2JS
020 7485 2819
by Hashley Brown
Small plates. That’s the secret. You manage to satisfy both the glutton and the penny-watcher in your potential breakfaster. It works like this: your average affordable breakfast can only have so many elements, (unless we’re talking a Little Chef Olympic Breakfast, which we’re not). On a big plate they lounge about in relative ceramic luxury and the eater feels a bit miffed wondering where all the food is. Squeeze those same elements onto a more diminutive platter, they jostle happily against each other, and it feels like there's so much food it's falling off the sides - perception is everything.
So. Brassino’s has small plates, which is a winner. They also hand-cut their bread fresh from a big sandwich loaf, which means chunky doorsteps of crunchy buttery toast, a good start to any breakfast. At £4 for sausage, bacon, egg, beans, tomatoes, toast and tea, this comes in as an eminently affordable start to the day. As ever the sausage could have been better, although in its favour, its unusual length gave it a humorous quality as yet un-encountered.
Whilst the outside is somewhat nondescript, Brassino’s feels like the kind of place a young Michael Caine may well have taken his daily egg and chips. Hidden behind a wall of plants in the window, it takes on a very local, slightly gloomy feel that makes it perfect for a rainy Saturday morning. The food was good, the service friendly, and the small plates made me happy.
IKEA, Edmonton
IKEA
Glover Drive
Edmonton
N18 3HF
www.ikea.com
by Malcolm Eggs
It was a bright Tuesday morning and I was there to purchase some Helmers, a Lagis, a pair of Amons and a lovely bunch of Svennings. But halfway up the very first escalator, distraction took hold - for there, on a brightly coloured ad, was something that just didn’t seem possible: a full English breakfast for just 95p. Was this the true reason for the IKEA opening riots earlier this year?
You expect such a price to indicate mediocrity, and the food being stored in large stainless steel trays of the Trusthouse Forte variety didn’t bode well. And there were no eggs, which is rather odd. But you know what? The bacon was well-cooked and there was a generous amount of it, the tomatoes were decently squidgy and the beans were beans were beans: it wasn’t bad at all. The sausage wasn’t going to win any prizes – but it was cooked to the right OCIS and I’ll always take a standard sausage decently cooked over a ‘medium rare’ pork and apple.
Even at 95p, it’s questionable whether you’ll want to travel to some dingy retail park exclusively for breakfast. But if you really must buy some flat-packed, flimsy furniture, this will set you up nicely - and it will leave you with enough change from a fiver for a Trudelutt.
Glover Drive
Edmonton
N18 3HF
www.ikea.com
by Malcolm Eggs
It was a bright Tuesday morning and I was there to purchase some Helmers, a Lagis, a pair of Amons and a lovely bunch of Svennings. But halfway up the very first escalator, distraction took hold - for there, on a brightly coloured ad, was something that just didn’t seem possible: a full English breakfast for just 95p. Was this the true reason for the IKEA opening riots earlier this year?
You expect such a price to indicate mediocrity, and the food being stored in large stainless steel trays of the Trusthouse Forte variety didn’t bode well. And there were no eggs, which is rather odd. But you know what? The bacon was well-cooked and there was a generous amount of it, the tomatoes were decently squidgy and the beans were beans were beans: it wasn’t bad at all. The sausage wasn’t going to win any prizes – but it was cooked to the right OCIS and I’ll always take a standard sausage decently cooked over a ‘medium rare’ pork and apple.
Even at 95p, it’s questionable whether you’ll want to travel to some dingy retail park exclusively for breakfast. But if you really must buy some flat-packed, flimsy furniture, this will set you up nicely - and it will leave you with enough change from a fiver for a Trudelutt.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Café Diana, Leytonstone
Café Diana
Leytonstone High Road
Leytonstone
E11 3AJ
by Hashley Brown
Café Diana is a very friendly greasy spoon on Leytonstone High Road – an area not noted for its wealth of Michelin starred eateries. As well as a sexpartite breakfast special menu, imaginatively named Diana Specials Nos. 1-6, they serve roast dinners, and the odd kebab. A jack of all trades, if you will, in a culinary wilderness.
Blinded (or bewildered?) by the diversity of choice on the specials menu, I plumped for the Brunch combination. Double sausage, double bacon, double egg, mushrooms, tomatoes and tea. Good tea, but this was the Exxon Valdez of breakfasts. As I ate I could feel guillemots struggling with blackened wings against the eco-disaster that was rapidly taking over my mouth - it felt dirty. But it was a greasy spoon, and that it did well, if a little over zealously. After wading through half a brunch platter, the bloated queasiness I felt didn’t endear me to persevere with the still rather full English that stared back at me from the glistening plate. There was no problem with being underfed in Café Diana – and for £3.60 that’s no bad thing.
A functional, breakfast-serving establishment that, although lacking finesse, did the job. Standard ingredients, cooked in a greasy way. Much to their credit they eschewed the easy route to fried mushrooms via the deep fat fryer, which inevitably produces yellowing spongy funghi tasting solely of old oil, and opted for a more delicate, less intrusive cooking technique - something many other cafés would do well to imitate.
Leytonstone High Road
Leytonstone
E11 3AJ
by Hashley Brown
Café Diana is a very friendly greasy spoon on Leytonstone High Road – an area not noted for its wealth of Michelin starred eateries. As well as a sexpartite breakfast special menu, imaginatively named Diana Specials Nos. 1-6, they serve roast dinners, and the odd kebab. A jack of all trades, if you will, in a culinary wilderness.
Blinded (or bewildered?) by the diversity of choice on the specials menu, I plumped for the Brunch combination. Double sausage, double bacon, double egg, mushrooms, tomatoes and tea. Good tea, but this was the Exxon Valdez of breakfasts. As I ate I could feel guillemots struggling with blackened wings against the eco-disaster that was rapidly taking over my mouth - it felt dirty. But it was a greasy spoon, and that it did well, if a little over zealously. After wading through half a brunch platter, the bloated queasiness I felt didn’t endear me to persevere with the still rather full English that stared back at me from the glistening plate. There was no problem with being underfed in Café Diana – and for £3.60 that’s no bad thing.
A functional, breakfast-serving establishment that, although lacking finesse, did the job. Standard ingredients, cooked in a greasy way. Much to their credit they eschewed the easy route to fried mushrooms via the deep fat fryer, which inevitably produces yellowing spongy funghi tasting solely of old oil, and opted for a more delicate, less intrusive cooking technique - something many other cafés would do well to imitate.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Cilicia, Broadway Market
Cilicia
1 Broadway Market
Hackney
E8 4PH
by Malcolm Eggs
Cilicia, right at the end of the lovely, bustling Broadway Market, is a Turkish restaurant with a justly formidable breakfast-making reputation. What brings this publication here is a splash of innovation: a full English with a mediterranean twist. The 'Cilician breakfast' keeps the egg, the hash brown and the mushrooms but replaces sausage with fried spicy salami, the bacon with grilled halloumi and throws in a handful of stuffed olives just, you imagine, to see what happens. The result? Largely worthwhile.
You can't argue with halloumi - and this was at a perfect stage of golden succulence. The spicy salami made a welcome, moreish change from standard-issue sausage and the presence of a deftly fried egg (and friends) was enough to satisfy the purist factions of my tastebud population. The one gripe was the olives which, stuffed as they were with garlic and chillies, constituted a slightly over-zealous intrusion. Splendid terracotta terrace, though, on which to prepare for a glorious sun-soaked day at the tail-end of an English summer. Just make sure you leave with plenty of time if arriving via that surreal, barely functional Silverlink rail-line, which is surely just a forgotten entry on some distant Texan share portfolio.
1 Broadway Market
Hackney
E8 4PH
by Malcolm Eggs
Cilicia, right at the end of the lovely, bustling Broadway Market, is a Turkish restaurant with a justly formidable breakfast-making reputation. What brings this publication here is a splash of innovation: a full English with a mediterranean twist. The 'Cilician breakfast' keeps the egg, the hash brown and the mushrooms but replaces sausage with fried spicy salami, the bacon with grilled halloumi and throws in a handful of stuffed olives just, you imagine, to see what happens. The result? Largely worthwhile.
You can't argue with halloumi - and this was at a perfect stage of golden succulence. The spicy salami made a welcome, moreish change from standard-issue sausage and the presence of a deftly fried egg (and friends) was enough to satisfy the purist factions of my tastebud population. The one gripe was the olives which, stuffed as they were with garlic and chillies, constituted a slightly over-zealous intrusion. Splendid terracotta terrace, though, on which to prepare for a glorious sun-soaked day at the tail-end of an English summer. Just make sure you leave with plenty of time if arriving via that surreal, barely functional Silverlink rail-line, which is surely just a forgotten entry on some distant Texan share portfolio.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Mario's Cafe, Kentish Town
Mario's Cafe
6 Kelly St
Kentish Town
NW1 8PH
www.marioscafe.com
by Dr Sigmund Fried
And lo, having tried - and failed - to penetrate the hallowed walls of Mario’s due to it being inexplicably closed three weekends on the trot, this humble hack did finally break there early on a sunny Saturday afternoon in September. I had reliably been informed by friends for quite a while that Mario’s does the best breakfast in Kentish Town if not the whole area (comprising Tufnell Park, Camden Town et al), and so this coquettishness on the part of the proprietor possibly built up my expectations of what lay in store to such an extent that only a truly Olympic standard fry-up was going to make the grade.
In reality then it was more akin to the Commonwealth Games: of a pretty high standard - and very reasonable at £4.50 for sausage, egg, bacon, mushrooms, tea and toast - but as a spectator, one gets the feeling that there’s probably better out there. Slightly dodgy analogy put to one side then, Mario’s problem is that it lets itself down on the details - deep-fried mushrooms when fried is preferable; cheap sausage where a fat, meaty Lincolnshire/Toulose etc is essential. Indeed, the location (on a quiet and colourful street just off the main road) and interior (pleasingly quaint, homely and relaxing with some good quality, colourful original art on the walls) are hard to fault.
I’d hate to think I’m being unduly harsh, and so I must stress that if you live in the area it’s absolutely worth checking out – it’s just a shame that, at the moment, it’s not quite the world-beater that it could so easily be.
6 Kelly St
Kentish Town
NW1 8PH
www.marioscafe.com
by Dr Sigmund Fried
And lo, having tried - and failed - to penetrate the hallowed walls of Mario’s due to it being inexplicably closed three weekends on the trot, this humble hack did finally break there early on a sunny Saturday afternoon in September. I had reliably been informed by friends for quite a while that Mario’s does the best breakfast in Kentish Town if not the whole area (comprising Tufnell Park, Camden Town et al), and so this coquettishness on the part of the proprietor possibly built up my expectations of what lay in store to such an extent that only a truly Olympic standard fry-up was going to make the grade.
In reality then it was more akin to the Commonwealth Games: of a pretty high standard - and very reasonable at £4.50 for sausage, egg, bacon, mushrooms, tea and toast - but as a spectator, one gets the feeling that there’s probably better out there. Slightly dodgy analogy put to one side then, Mario’s problem is that it lets itself down on the details - deep-fried mushrooms when fried is preferable; cheap sausage where a fat, meaty Lincolnshire/Toulose etc is essential. Indeed, the location (on a quiet and colourful street just off the main road) and interior (pleasingly quaint, homely and relaxing with some good quality, colourful original art on the walls) are hard to fault.
I’d hate to think I’m being unduly harsh, and so I must stress that if you live in the area it’s absolutely worth checking out – it’s just a shame that, at the moment, it’s not quite the world-beater that it could so easily be.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
McDonald's, Somewhere or Other
McDonald's
Generic High St
Standard Town
MC1
www.mcdonalds.co.uk
by Hashley Brown
I’d like to say that this was a review driven by a quest to mine the depths of breakfast iniquity, but I can’t. For the record I was driven by a deep carnal desire for a Sausage and Egg McMuffin. It’s not clever and I’m not proud. And I will never do it again.
You know the faux healthy advertising: the smiling people eating salads, the children playing with fruit, the pictures of grinning cows. But when it comes to a McDonald's breakfast, none of this washes. The inspid pork ‘patty’ that dripped grease came coupled with an egg that bore more relation to a greying slap of polystyrene than anything that’s popped out of the noble chicken. Topped with processed cheese and encased in a generic McMuffin, this breakfast was a tasteless, immoral affair.
From a purely fiscal point of view, the £2.29 handed over bought the aforementioned culinary aberration, which was joined by a hash brown and a bottle of Tropicana orange juice. The hash brown, which had clearly spent the morning imbibing as much oil as possible in the fryer, meant that the good quality juice spent most of its time emulsifying fat residues on the way down.
A thoroughly unpleasant affair.
Generic High St
Standard Town
MC1
www.mcdonalds.co.uk
by Hashley Brown
I’d like to say that this was a review driven by a quest to mine the depths of breakfast iniquity, but I can’t. For the record I was driven by a deep carnal desire for a Sausage and Egg McMuffin. It’s not clever and I’m not proud. And I will never do it again.
You know the faux healthy advertising: the smiling people eating salads, the children playing with fruit, the pictures of grinning cows. But when it comes to a McDonald's breakfast, none of this washes. The inspid pork ‘patty’ that dripped grease came coupled with an egg that bore more relation to a greying slap of polystyrene than anything that’s popped out of the noble chicken. Topped with processed cheese and encased in a generic McMuffin, this breakfast was a tasteless, immoral affair.
From a purely fiscal point of view, the £2.29 handed over bought the aforementioned culinary aberration, which was joined by a hash brown and a bottle of Tropicana orange juice. The hash brown, which had clearly spent the morning imbibing as much oil as possible in the fryer, meant that the good quality juice spent most of its time emulsifying fat residues on the way down.
A thoroughly unpleasant affair.
Lucius & Richards, Peckham
Lucius & Richards
194 Bellenden Rd
Peckham
SE15 4BW
by Hashley Brown
Peckham’s the kind of place you’d expect a good greasy spoon to live; in fact it’s the kind of place you’d think the greasy spoon was born in. But as you venture in to the Peckham/Dulwich hinterland, reality blurs and you find yourself skipping through a leafy cosmopolitan fantasy. Sat on a pavement of almost boulevardian proportions being stared down by Anthony Gormley designed phallic road bollards, while to the left mothers discussed babies and to the right dogs were groomed and manicured by a man smoking exquisitely long cigarettes, I had reached the nadir of louche urban society. What better setting then for the triumph of a breakfast that was Lucius & Richards?
As befits the kind of café where a full English nestles between a halloumi salad and a homemade soup, the humble breakfast had graduated to the epicurean equivalent of high school. With no hint of shame I ordered the all-day breakfast, and what came reaffirmed my belief in mankind. For starters it didn’t arrive in a sub 5-minute swirl of efficiency. It was cooked. By somebody. Who cared.
Brown toast, thick well-cured bacon – the fat beautifully rendered to a golden crisp - a plump herby sausage, near perfect egg – just sloppy enough for dipping but with a firm moist white, and a grilled tomato that tasted like I think tomatoes probably did once. This was the kind of breakfast others should aspire to - even though its £6.50 price tag wasn’t the cheapest - it exuded a level of thought and attention to quality that put it well beyond the league of ‘euro-med’ pretenders.
194 Bellenden Rd
Peckham
SE15 4BW
by Hashley Brown
Peckham’s the kind of place you’d expect a good greasy spoon to live; in fact it’s the kind of place you’d think the greasy spoon was born in. But as you venture in to the Peckham/Dulwich hinterland, reality blurs and you find yourself skipping through a leafy cosmopolitan fantasy. Sat on a pavement of almost boulevardian proportions being stared down by Anthony Gormley designed phallic road bollards, while to the left mothers discussed babies and to the right dogs were groomed and manicured by a man smoking exquisitely long cigarettes, I had reached the nadir of louche urban society. What better setting then for the triumph of a breakfast that was Lucius & Richards?
As befits the kind of café where a full English nestles between a halloumi salad and a homemade soup, the humble breakfast had graduated to the epicurean equivalent of high school. With no hint of shame I ordered the all-day breakfast, and what came reaffirmed my belief in mankind. For starters it didn’t arrive in a sub 5-minute swirl of efficiency. It was cooked. By somebody. Who cared.
Brown toast, thick well-cured bacon – the fat beautifully rendered to a golden crisp - a plump herby sausage, near perfect egg – just sloppy enough for dipping but with a firm moist white, and a grilled tomato that tasted like I think tomatoes probably did once. This was the kind of breakfast others should aspire to - even though its £6.50 price tag wasn’t the cheapest - it exuded a level of thought and attention to quality that put it well beyond the league of ‘euro-med’ pretenders.
Friday, September 02, 2005
Eat, Soho Square
Eat
16a Soho Square
London
W1D 3QH
by Malcolm Eggs
If you find yourself on Oxford St after four hours sleep and you can't face the journey to work without some kind of sustenance where exactly do you turn? Pret a Manger was considered but rejected, due to the lack of their (usually rather decent) breakfast baguettes. Didn't fancy Caffé Nero for some reason (unscientific you say? So what? That's what the hungover mind is like). How's about Eat in Soho Square? The all-day breakfast ciabatta looked pretty good at £2.50. Nice deep scarlet bacon, slices of sausage and scrambled egg in a pretty handsome looking piece of continental breadstuff with a choice of sauce: I couldn’t have left without it.
They placed it in the heavy duty sandwich toaster for a good amount of time (none of this "hurry! They're waiting! Forget about cooking the thing, let's give it to them now!" philosophy) and the result was decent, honest even. It wasn't gourmet. It wasn't a home-cooked bacon and egg English muffin. It wasn't something for Saturday mornings. But it was a good on-the-way-to-work piece of breakfast inspired food and, unlike many things in this city, it didn't pretend to be anything else.
16a Soho Square
London
W1D 3QH
by Malcolm Eggs
If you find yourself on Oxford St after four hours sleep and you can't face the journey to work without some kind of sustenance where exactly do you turn? Pret a Manger was considered but rejected, due to the lack of their (usually rather decent) breakfast baguettes. Didn't fancy Caffé Nero for some reason (unscientific you say? So what? That's what the hungover mind is like). How's about Eat in Soho Square? The all-day breakfast ciabatta looked pretty good at £2.50. Nice deep scarlet bacon, slices of sausage and scrambled egg in a pretty handsome looking piece of continental breadstuff with a choice of sauce: I couldn’t have left without it.
They placed it in the heavy duty sandwich toaster for a good amount of time (none of this "hurry! They're waiting! Forget about cooking the thing, let's give it to them now!" philosophy) and the result was decent, honest even. It wasn't gourmet. It wasn't a home-cooked bacon and egg English muffin. It wasn't something for Saturday mornings. But it was a good on-the-way-to-work piece of breakfast inspired food and, unlike many things in this city, it didn't pretend to be anything else.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Al's Cafe Bar, Exmouth Market
Al's Cafe Bar
11-13 Exmouth Market
EC1R 4QD
by Malcolm Eggs
A breakfasting sure thing? The setting certainly seemed promising. Exmouth Market is an excellent little street and sitting outside counting pregnant women (so many! Is some local rogue impregnating them all?) on a sunny bank holiday Sunday it was hard to want to be anywhere else.
The service boded well: glasses of tap water and heart-zappingly strong coffees were delivered without delay or fuss. The breakfast menu looked excellent too, although the pricing had some points of intrigue. A full English costs £5.95 and includes sausage, 2 bacon, fried egg, tomato, mushrooms and 2 toast. At £3.75 a ‘mini breakfast’ comes in at £2.20 less but you only lose the mushrooms and one of the toasts. Fair enough: mini breakfast it was, then.
When it arrived I flipped the bacon and my heart sank. For the third time in recent months I was faced with rashers cooked on one side only. What’s with that? Was I making a fuss by calling the waitress and requesting it be cooked on both sides? Her shruggy expression suggested perhaps I was, but nevertheless she took it away and when it returned it wasn't exactly crispy but at least it was cooked. The rest of the food on my plate nurtured the suspicion that I had just been unlucky. The sausage had the correct OCIS (outer crunch and inner succulence) readings and the egg was just perfect. All my criteria were fulfilled and yet... I could still have eaten more. Such, I realised, is the gamble of the mini breakfast.
11-13 Exmouth Market
EC1R 4QD
by Malcolm Eggs
A breakfasting sure thing? The setting certainly seemed promising. Exmouth Market is an excellent little street and sitting outside counting pregnant women (so many! Is some local rogue impregnating them all?) on a sunny bank holiday Sunday it was hard to want to be anywhere else.
The service boded well: glasses of tap water and heart-zappingly strong coffees were delivered without delay or fuss. The breakfast menu looked excellent too, although the pricing had some points of intrigue. A full English costs £5.95 and includes sausage, 2 bacon, fried egg, tomato, mushrooms and 2 toast. At £3.75 a ‘mini breakfast’ comes in at £2.20 less but you only lose the mushrooms and one of the toasts. Fair enough: mini breakfast it was, then.
When it arrived I flipped the bacon and my heart sank. For the third time in recent months I was faced with rashers cooked on one side only. What’s with that? Was I making a fuss by calling the waitress and requesting it be cooked on both sides? Her shruggy expression suggested perhaps I was, but nevertheless she took it away and when it returned it wasn't exactly crispy but at least it was cooked. The rest of the food on my plate nurtured the suspicion that I had just been unlucky. The sausage had the correct OCIS (outer crunch and inner succulence) readings and the egg was just perfect. All my criteria were fulfilled and yet... I could still have eaten more. Such, I realised, is the gamble of the mini breakfast.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
About the London Review of Breakfasts
We love going out for breakfast. We love the hungry hours of anticipation before we decide on a venue. We love the splendid taste of expertly cooked, herb-filled sausages, the aromatic texture of crispy bacon, the burst of yellow yolk as a knife breaks the surface tension. We love piping hot beans, buttered toast and squidgy grilled tomatoes. We love to wash it all down with a reassuring cup of tea as - deliriously hungover - we babble about the dodgy antics of the night before.
But we hate bad breakfasts. We hate nudging limp forks at greasy microwaved sausages, miserable pink bacon and the clear and runny white of an unloved fried egg. We hate beans that are room temperature and bread that's only toasted on one side. We despise cold hard tomatoes. Hate it when we order tap water and it never comes and we don't know what to say to each other and we have a relationship crisis and suddenly everything seems too cramped and stuffy and the night before embarrassing.
The "full English" refers not to our technological, cultural or military achievements. No: we live in a country where the 'full us' proudly refers to the first meal of the day. And yet here, in that country's capital, there seem to be (far) more bad breakfast opportunities than good ones: Cafe Euro Med in Kentish Town, the Bishop in East Dulwich and Mac Bar in Camden, to name but a few recent crying failures.
And so we bring you a new champion: the London Review of Breakfasts. Because we've had enoeuf.
Malcolm Eggs, Site Editor
August 2005
What the papers say:
"With reviews from a panel of testers, your first (and most important) meal of the day need never be a disappointment again." (Time Out "50 Best London Websites" Feb 2008 - full article here)
"Reviews written in the style of maths equations and Mills & Boon novels. Fun to read even if you never eat out before lunchtime." (The London Paper, 20 Dec 2007 - click here)
"Quirky look at eating around London..." (The Guardian - 'Best of British' blogs, 9 Nov 2007 - here)
"Reviewers include Cathy Latte, Chris P Bacon, Ed Benedict, Rhys Chris Peese, HP Seuss and, my personal favourite, Veggie Kray. These, I submit to Eggs, are not their real names." (Stuart Jeffries in The Guardian, 6 Aug 2007 - full article here)
"A band of breakfast-obsessed radicals - each armed with a punning nom de plume - write reviews of the most important meal of the day with the same amount of seriousness, humour and interest as you would bestow on Ian McEwan's latest novel." (The Independent on Sunday, 'Talk of the Town', 1 Oct 2006 - see here)
"Armed only with rigour and a good, strong mug of tea, the LRB’s dedicated critics, led by Malcolm Eggs, review the most full-on English fry-ups in the capital, writing with humour and literary elan... Whether you seek bacon and eggs in Balham or succulent sausages in Shoreditch, the LRB ensures never again having to suffer the indignities of soggy bubble and squeak." (Sunday Times, five star review, 25 Jun 2006 - full article here)
"An idiosyncratic and well-written guide, whose authors' powers of description could never be described as cliched." (The Times, 'Blog of the Week', 8 April 2006)
"Given the recent controversy within these pages about the art (and cost) of decent breakfasting in London, we thought it would be a good idea to point readers in the direction of [the London Review of Breakfasts], a really rather excellent website devoted to London's premier breakfast experiences. There's no snobbery here: classic caff E Pellicci of Bethnal Green is reviewed alongside the more salubrious (if less characterful) Charlotte Street Hotel, and there's even a mention of Garfunkel's at Heathrow Airport." (Time Out, 'London Website of the Week', 7 Feb 2006)
"It is, as we all know, the most important meal of the day, and this site is a comprehensive guide to the best hangover beating breakfasts to be had across the capital. It's very well written, and is growing all the time, so there's bound to be something near you." (Evening Standard, 'London on the Web', 6 Feb 2006)
"We've been monitoring this brekkie blog carefully and it's very good indeed. In fact it could be said to be a little 'too good' as our breakfasting standards have now shot up to ludicrous levels and we often find ourselves hankering for a fried egg at the weirdest of times." (Londonist, 7 Dec 2005 - full article here)
"A little London-centric." (The Birmingham Plus forum)
"Very amusing." (The Australian, 28 July 2007 - bottom of this page)
But we hate bad breakfasts. We hate nudging limp forks at greasy microwaved sausages, miserable pink bacon and the clear and runny white of an unloved fried egg. We hate beans that are room temperature and bread that's only toasted on one side. We despise cold hard tomatoes. Hate it when we order tap water and it never comes and we don't know what to say to each other and we have a relationship crisis and suddenly everything seems too cramped and stuffy and the night before embarrassing.
The "full English" refers not to our technological, cultural or military achievements. No: we live in a country where the 'full us' proudly refers to the first meal of the day. And yet here, in that country's capital, there seem to be (far) more bad breakfast opportunities than good ones: Cafe Euro Med in Kentish Town, the Bishop in East Dulwich and Mac Bar in Camden, to name but a few recent crying failures.
And so we bring you a new champion: the London Review of Breakfasts. Because we've had enoeuf.
Malcolm Eggs, Site Editor
August 2005
What the papers say:
"With reviews from a panel of testers, your first (and most important) meal of the day need never be a disappointment again." (Time Out "50 Best London Websites" Feb 2008 - full article here)
"Reviews written in the style of maths equations and Mills & Boon novels. Fun to read even if you never eat out before lunchtime." (The London Paper, 20 Dec 2007 - click here)
"Quirky look at eating around London..." (The Guardian - 'Best of British' blogs, 9 Nov 2007 - here)
"Reviewers include Cathy Latte, Chris P Bacon, Ed Benedict, Rhys Chris Peese, HP Seuss and, my personal favourite, Veggie Kray. These, I submit to Eggs, are not their real names." (Stuart Jeffries in The Guardian, 6 Aug 2007 - full article here)
"A band of breakfast-obsessed radicals - each armed with a punning nom de plume - write reviews of the most important meal of the day with the same amount of seriousness, humour and interest as you would bestow on Ian McEwan's latest novel." (The Independent on Sunday, 'Talk of the Town', 1 Oct 2006 - see here)
"Armed only with rigour and a good, strong mug of tea, the LRB’s dedicated critics, led by Malcolm Eggs, review the most full-on English fry-ups in the capital, writing with humour and literary elan... Whether you seek bacon and eggs in Balham or succulent sausages in Shoreditch, the LRB ensures never again having to suffer the indignities of soggy bubble and squeak." (Sunday Times, five star review, 25 Jun 2006 - full article here)
"An idiosyncratic and well-written guide, whose authors' powers of description could never be described as cliched." (The Times, 'Blog of the Week', 8 April 2006)
"Given the recent controversy within these pages about the art (and cost) of decent breakfasting in London, we thought it would be a good idea to point readers in the direction of [the London Review of Breakfasts], a really rather excellent website devoted to London's premier breakfast experiences. There's no snobbery here: classic caff E Pellicci of Bethnal Green is reviewed alongside the more salubrious (if less characterful) Charlotte Street Hotel, and there's even a mention of Garfunkel's at Heathrow Airport." (Time Out, 'London Website of the Week', 7 Feb 2006)
"It is, as we all know, the most important meal of the day, and this site is a comprehensive guide to the best hangover beating breakfasts to be had across the capital. It's very well written, and is growing all the time, so there's bound to be something near you." (Evening Standard, 'London on the Web', 6 Feb 2006)
"We've been monitoring this brekkie blog carefully and it's very good indeed. In fact it could be said to be a little 'too good' as our breakfasting standards have now shot up to ludicrous levels and we often find ourselves hankering for a fried egg at the weirdest of times." (Londonist, 7 Dec 2005 - full article here)
"A little London-centric." (The Birmingham Plus forum)
"Very amusing." (The Australian, 28 July 2007 - bottom of this page)
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Reviews by Name
06 St Chad's Place, Fitzrovia
Aaron House, Port St Mary, Isle of Man
The Abbey, Kentish Town
Acorn House, King's Cross
Agora at the Copper Kettle, Cambridge
Albion, Shoreditch
A Little of What You Fancy, Dalston
Allpress Espresso, Shoreditch
Alpino, Islington
Al's Cafe Bar, Clerkenwell (closed and now Caravan)
The Ambassador, Clerkenwell
Andrew's Café, Clerkenwell
The Antique Cafe, Chelsea, New York
Arthur's Cafe, Kingsland
Art to Zen, Islington
Automat, Mayfair
The Bagel Factory, Euston
The Bagel Factory, Waterloo International (closed)
Baker & Spice, Chelsea
Balans, Kensington
Balans, Soho
Banners, Crouch End
Bar Italia, Soho
Bar Solo, Camden
Belle Epoque, Newington Green
Benjys Restaurant, Earl's Court
The Bermondsey Kitchen, Bermondsey
bills, Sydney
Bills Produce Store, Lewes, East Sussex
Bills Produce Store, Soho
The Birdcage, Stoke Newington
Bistrot Bruno Loubet, Clerkenwell
Bistrotheque, Bethnal Green
Black Cherry, East Dulwich
Blandford's, Marylebone
Bleeding Heart Tavern, Clerkenwell
Blue Brick Cafe, East Dulwich
The Blue Legume, Stoke Newington
Bob Bob Ricard, Soho
Bodrum Cafe, Stoke Newington
The Boiled Egg and Soldiers, Clapham
Book Club, Shoreditch
Brassino, Kentish Town
Brazas Restaurant, Brixton
The Breakfast Club, Islington
The Breakfast Club, Shoreditch
The Breakfast Club, Soho
Brew, Clapham Junction
The Brick Box, Brixton
Brick Lane Beigel Bake, Spitalfields
The Brill Restaurant and Cellar Bar, King's Cross
British Airways breakfast, somewhere over northern Portugal
The Bruncheon Club, Hackney
Broadway Cafe, Hackney
Bull & Last, Gospel Oak (NB under new management since review)
Burger King, Anywhere
Burger King, Waterloo
Butler's Wharf Chop House, Bermondsey
The Cafe (also known as Ellie's), Kilburn
Cafe 1916, Palma, Mallorca
Cafe & Grill, Camden Town
Cafe Aion, Boulder, Colorado, USA
Café Boheme, Soho
Café Bohemia, Hackney
Cafe Calcio, Cardiff
Café Crescent, Camden Town (now Café Grill - see below)
Cafe Diana, Archway
Café Diana, Leytonstone
Cafe Diana, Notting Hill
Café Express, King's Cross
Cafe Euro Med, Kentish Town
Café Fleur, Wandsworth
Cafe Floris, South Kensington
Café Grill, Camden Town
Café Lemon, Harringay
Cafe Mari e Monti, Finsbury Park
Café Mozart, Highgate
Cafe Olive, Islingon
Café RED, Kentish Town
Café Rive Gauche, Fitzrovia
Café Rogerio's, Putney
Café Rossi, Borough
Café Seventy Nine, Primrose Hill
Cafe SO, Tower 42, Broadgate
Cafe Solo, Crouch End (closed)
Café Z Bar, Stoke Newington
Cambridge Cafe, Bethnal Green
Camden Kitchen, Camden Town
Campania Gastronomia, Shoreditch
Canteen, Southbank
Car Park and Cafe, Bethnal Green
The Caramel Room, Knightsbridge
Carluccio's, Fitzrovia
Carluccio's, Marylebone
Carluccio's, Terminal 5, Heathrow
Canteen, Spitalfields
Caravan, Clerkenwell
Casa Caminho do Corcovado
Casa Madeira, Vauxhall
The Cat & Cucumber, Bermondsey
Cecconi's, Mayfair
Charlotte Street Hotel, Fitzrovia
Cheers Bar, Protaras
Chez Bernard Café, Ulan Bator, Mongolia
Chez Gerard, Heathrow Airport
Christie's Cabaret, Cleveland, Ohio
Christopher's, Covent Garden
The Claridges, Faridabad, India
Clarke's, Kensington
The Cleveland Clinic, Ohio, USA
Cilicia, Broadway Market
Clicia, Stoke Newington
Climpson & Sons, Hackney
Coco Momo Cafe Bar, Marylebone
Coffee Cake, Finsbury Park
The Coffee House, Philadelphia, USA
Cora's, Montreal
Corner Deli, Hackney
Counter Cafe, Hackney Wick
Covenant Community Church, Cleveland, USA
Cowshed Clarendon Cross, Holland Park
Daley Bread, Fitzrovia
Dalston Lane Cafe, Hackney
Davy's Wine Bar, Fitzrovia
The Dartmouth Arms, Dartmouth Park
Dean Street Townhouse, Soho
The Delaunay, Covent Garden
The Deli, Walthamstow
Delice de France, Euston
Dem Cafe Bar, Stoke Newington
The Deptford Project, Deptford
The Dervish, Stoke Newington
Diana's Diner, Covent Garden
The Diner, Camden Town
The Diner, Shoreditch
Dino's Grill & Restaurant, Spitalfields
Divalls, Brighton (now closed)
DK's Cafe, Victoria
Docklands Diner, Docklands
Dominique's in Hampstead Heath, Hampstead
Dottie's True Blue Café, San Francisco, USA
Dumouchel Bakery, Leeds
Eat, Paddington
Eat, Soho Square
Eat 17, Walthamstow
The Eclipse, Lower Clapton
Elbows Cafe, Hackney
The Elk in the Woods, Islington
Elliot's Cafe, Bethnal Green
Elmo's Diner, North Carolina
El Vergel, Borough
The Empress of India, Victoria Park
The Engineer, Primrose Hill
Escape, Llandudno
Est Est Est, Gatwick Airport
European, Melbourne
Euphorium Bakery, Islington
Eurostar, Gare du Nord to London Waterloo
Euston Sandwich Bar, Fitzrovia
Evin Cafe Bar, Dalston
Fernandez & Wells, Soho
Fifteen, Shoreditch
Fika, Shoreditch
Fish House, Hackney
Fino's Orangery, Docklands
Fire Bar and Bistro, Newquay
Flame Cafe Bistro, Highbury
Flâneur, Clerkenwell (closed)
The Fleet River Bakery, Holborn
Food Van, Kingsland Waste Market
The Foyer, BBC Television Centre, Shepherd's Bush
Fortess Cafe Restaurant, Tufnell Park
Franco's, Shoreditch
Frank's Cafe and Campari Bar, Peckham
Franklins, East Dulwich
Franze & Evans, Shoreditch
La Fromagerie, Marylebone
Gail's, Clerkenwell
The Garden Restaurant, Mayford, Surrey
Garden Cafe and Restaurant, South Hampstead
Garfunkel's, Heathrow Airport
The Garrison, Bermondsey
Gastro, Clapham
The Gastrodome, The Hay Festival
The Gate, Newington Green
The Gatehouse, Highgate
The Garden Restaurant, Mayford, Surrey
Garufa Argentine Grill, Highbury
Giraffe, Spitalfields
Gill Wing Café, Highbury (now closed)
G Muratori, Clerkenwell
Goodfare, Camden Town
Gracelands, Kensal Green
Greaseless Spoon Cafe, Holborn
The Green, Islington
Green and Fortune Cafe, King's Cross
Greenwich Picturehouse, Greenwich
The Grocery, Shoreditch
Grove Cafe, Highbury
Guy Fawkes Inn, York
Hackney City Farm, Hackney
Half Moon Café, Hammersmith
Harpers, Borough
Hawksmoor, Spitalfields
Homa, Stoke Newington
Honest Food, Brixton
The Honest Sausage, Regent's Park
Hotel Cabinn City, Copenhagen, Denmark
Hoxton Grille, Shoreditch
Hugo's, Queens Park
Inflight Food Trolley, EasyJet
IKEA, Edmonton
The Farm of Beverley Hills, California
Fire Bar and Bistro Newquay
First Great Western Railways, Swansea to London
Fluffy Rock Cafe, Glastonbury Festival
Gusto, Cape Town
J's, West Hampstead
J + A Cafe, Clerkenwell
Jack N Jills, Beverley Hills, USA
Jack's, Queens Park
Jocks Cafe, Acton
Joe Allen, Covent Garden
Kako, Camden Town
Kalendar, Highgate
Kekik Cafe Bistro Grill, Farringdon
Kensington Square Kitchen, Kensington
Kika, Highbury
Kings Café, Finchley
The Kitchen, Polperro
Konstam, King's Cross (now closed)
La Casita, Streatham
La Vie En Rose, Hackney
Lakeland Cafe, Brent Cross
La Liaison, South Kensington
Lantana, Fitzrovia
Le Chandelier, East Dulwich
Le Pain Quotidien, South Bank
Le Pain Quotidien, St Pancras International
The Lead Station, Chorlton, Manchester
Leila's Shop, Shoreditch
Leon, Spitalfields
Leo's Café and Restaurant, Dalston
Lifebuoy Café, Fowey
The Lime Cafe, Harringay
Little Chef, Popham, Hampshire
Little Georgia, Hackney
Little Mo's Cafe, Dalston
Little Portland Cafe, Fitzrovia
The Lockside Cafe, Bristol
Long White Cloud, Shoreditch
Lucile's, Boulder, USA
Lucius & Richards, Peckham (closed)
Lucky 7, Westbourne Green
The Luxe, Spitalfields
Mad Bishop & Bear, Paddington
Made in Camden, Chalk Farm
Manic Organic, Glastonbury
Maison Bertaux, Soho
Manolis Cafe, Lower Holloway
Manzara, Notting Hill
Maria's, Borough
Mario's Cafe, Kentish Town
Maze Grill, Mayfair
McDonald's, Somewhere or Other
McDonald's, Painesville, Ohio, USA
Meals, Bloomsbury
Medcalf, Clerkenwell (no longer serving breakfast)
Mess, Hackney Central
Mike's Cafe, Notting Hill
The Milk Bar, Soho
The Modern Pantry, Clerkenwell
Moomba World Café, Putney
Mon P'tit Chou, East Dulwich
Moonbow Jakes, Brockley
Morrison's Cafe, Scunthorpe
Mouse & de Lotz Cafe, Dalston
Mr Christian's, Islington
myhotel, Bloomsbury
My Tea Shop, London Bridge
The New Piccadilly, Soho (closed)
New River Cafe, Stoke Newington
Nhow Hotel, Berlin
Nice Croissant, Wanstead
Nico's Restaurant, Bethnal Green
Nineteen, Streatham
Olympia Restaurant, Mount Airy, USA
One Railways, London to Norwich
Ottolenghi, Islington
Orient EspressO, Borough
The Oxford, Kentish Town
Ozone Coffee Roasters, Shoreditch
Pancake Cafe, Bloomsbury
Paper Moon Diner, Baltimore
Paradise Cafe, Kensal Rise
Paradise Cafe, Lower Holloway
Paris Cafe & Sandwich Bar, Hoxton
Parliament Hill Café, Hampstead Heath
Pastis, New York
Paternoster Chop House
Patisserie Ann Marie, Balham
Patisserie Valerie, Marylebone
Patisserie Valérie, Soho
Paul, Covent Garden
The Pavilion Cafe, Hackney
The Peckham Experiment, Peckham
The Penz, Innsbruck
Perfect Blend, Streatham
Pete's Mini Bar, Putney
Peter de Wit's, Greenwich
E Pellicci, Bethnal Green
Phileas Fogg, Brussels, Belgium
Phoenix Restaurant, Brixton
The Pineapple, Kentish Town
Pistachios, Greenwich
The Place Cafe, Euston
Ponti's, Stansted Airport
Portorais Hotel, Palermo, Sicily
Pret a Manger, Somewhere or Other
The Premises, Shoreditch
The Priory, Roehampton
Prime Burger, New York
The Prince Regent, Herne Hill
The Providores and Tapa Room, Marylebone
Prufrock Café, Clerkenwell
Puccino's, Surbiton
Pullen's Dining Room, Herne Hill
Purple, Streatham
The Quality Chop House, Farringdon
Queens Wood Cafe, Highgate
The Redchurch, Shoreditch
Regency Cafe, Pimlico
Relish, Newington Green
The Rex St. Lucian Hotel, St Lucia
Riding House Café, Fitzrovia
River Cafe, Fulham
Rivington Grill, Shoreditch
Roast, Borough
Rock Steady Eddie's, Camberwell
The Rosemary Branch, De Beauvoir Town
Rose's, Brondesbury
Rossi Restaurant, Spitalfields (closed)
The Russet, Hackney Downs
Rustique, Tufnell Park
Sands of Kahana, Kahana, Maui
The Sandwich Box, Highbury
S & M Café, Islington
S & M Café, Spitalfields
Scandinavian Kitchen, Fitzrovia
Shakespeare Bed & Breakfast, Lancaster
The Shepherdess Cafe, Shoreditch
Shoreditch House, Shoreditch
Silvas, Soho
Simpsons-in-the-Strand, Covent Garden
Si Signore, Brighton
Slyman's, Cleveland, Ohio
Smallfish, Shoreditch (now closed)
Smiths of Smithfield, Farringdon
Soup + Salad, Spitalfields
Spark Cafe, Clapton
St Giles Café, Oxford
St John Bread & Wine, Spitalfields
Stack 'em High, North Carolina, USA
Starbucks, Anywhere
Starvin' Marvin's, Greenford
Station Cafe, Kensal Rise
Story Deli, Spitalfields
String Ray Café, Higbury
Subway, Anywhere
Sveti Vrach Spa Hotel, Sandanski, Bulgaria
Sylvia's, New York
The Table, Southwark
"A Tale of Two Breakfasts": The Tin Goose vs Giraffe, Heathrow Airport
Taste Buds, Palmers Green
The Three Bells, Heathrow Airport
Thunderbird Cafe, Wellington, New Zealand
Toad's Mouth Too, Brockley
Tom's Kitchen, Chelsea
Towpath, De Beauvoir Town
TJ's, Mortlake
Trattoria Sapori, Newington Green
Trojka, Primrose Hill
The University Women's Club, Mayfair
The Uplands Bar & Brasserie, East Dulwich
Uplands Cafe, East Dulwich
Urban Angel, Islington
Village Café, Gospel Oak
The Village Cafe, Ladywell
Villandry, Fitzrovia
The W and The James, Chicago
The Waiting Rooms, Palmers Green
The Walpole, Ealing
The Wapping Project, Wapping
The Waterhouse, De Beauvoir Town
Waterloo Brasserie, Waterloo
Wetherspoon Express, Stansted Airport
The White Bar, Chic and Basic, Barcelona
Whole Foods, Kensington
Wild Cherry, Bethnal Green
The Wolseley, Mayfair
Workers Cafe, Archway
Workers Cafe, Islington
York & Albany, Mayfair
Yo! Sushi, Gatwick Airport
Yummy's Cafe, Spitalfields
The Zetter, Clerkenwell
Zigfrid, Hoxton Square
Aaron House, Port St Mary, Isle of Man
The Abbey, Kentish Town
Acorn House, King's Cross
Agora at the Copper Kettle, Cambridge
Albion, Shoreditch
A Little of What You Fancy, Dalston
Allpress Espresso, Shoreditch
Alpino, Islington
Al's Cafe Bar, Clerkenwell (closed and now Caravan)
The Ambassador, Clerkenwell
Andrew's Café, Clerkenwell
The Antique Cafe, Chelsea, New York
Arthur's Cafe, Kingsland
Art to Zen, Islington
Automat, Mayfair
The Bagel Factory, Euston
The Bagel Factory, Waterloo International (closed)
Baker & Spice, Chelsea
Balans, Kensington
Balans, Soho
Banners, Crouch End
Bar Italia, Soho
Bar Solo, Camden
Belle Epoque, Newington Green
Benjys Restaurant, Earl's Court
The Bermondsey Kitchen, Bermondsey
bills, Sydney
Bills Produce Store, Lewes, East Sussex
Bills Produce Store, Soho
The Birdcage, Stoke Newington
Bistrot Bruno Loubet, Clerkenwell
Bistrotheque, Bethnal Green
Black Cherry, East Dulwich
Blandford's, Marylebone
Bleeding Heart Tavern, Clerkenwell
Blue Brick Cafe, East Dulwich
The Blue Legume, Stoke Newington
Bob Bob Ricard, Soho
Bodrum Cafe, Stoke Newington
The Boiled Egg and Soldiers, Clapham
Book Club, Shoreditch
Brassino, Kentish Town
Brazas Restaurant, Brixton
The Breakfast Club, Islington
The Breakfast Club, Shoreditch
The Breakfast Club, Soho
Brew, Clapham Junction
The Brick Box, Brixton
Brick Lane Beigel Bake, Spitalfields
The Brill Restaurant and Cellar Bar, King's Cross
British Airways breakfast, somewhere over northern Portugal
The Bruncheon Club, Hackney
Broadway Cafe, Hackney
Bull & Last, Gospel Oak (NB under new management since review)
Burger King, Anywhere
Burger King, Waterloo
Butler's Wharf Chop House, Bermondsey
The Cafe (also known as Ellie's), Kilburn
Cafe 1916, Palma, Mallorca
Cafe & Grill, Camden Town
Cafe Aion, Boulder, Colorado, USA
Café Boheme, Soho
Café Bohemia, Hackney
Cafe Calcio, Cardiff
Café Crescent, Camden Town (now Café Grill - see below)
Cafe Diana, Archway
Café Diana, Leytonstone
Cafe Diana, Notting Hill
Café Express, King's Cross
Cafe Euro Med, Kentish Town
Café Fleur, Wandsworth
Cafe Floris, South Kensington
Café Grill, Camden Town
Café Lemon, Harringay
Cafe Mari e Monti, Finsbury Park
Café Mozart, Highgate
Cafe Olive, Islingon
Café RED, Kentish Town
Café Rive Gauche, Fitzrovia
Café Rogerio's, Putney
Café Rossi, Borough
Café Seventy Nine, Primrose Hill
Cafe SO, Tower 42, Broadgate
Cafe Solo, Crouch End (closed)
Café Z Bar, Stoke Newington
Cambridge Cafe, Bethnal Green
Camden Kitchen, Camden Town
Campania Gastronomia, Shoreditch
Canteen, Southbank
Car Park and Cafe, Bethnal Green
The Caramel Room, Knightsbridge
Carluccio's, Fitzrovia
Carluccio's, Marylebone
Carluccio's, Terminal 5, Heathrow
Canteen, Spitalfields
Caravan, Clerkenwell
Casa Caminho do Corcovado
Casa Madeira, Vauxhall
The Cat & Cucumber, Bermondsey
Cecconi's, Mayfair
Charlotte Street Hotel, Fitzrovia
Cheers Bar, Protaras
Chez Bernard Café, Ulan Bator, Mongolia
Chez Gerard, Heathrow Airport
Christie's Cabaret, Cleveland, Ohio
Christopher's, Covent Garden
The Claridges, Faridabad, India
Clarke's, Kensington
The Cleveland Clinic, Ohio, USA
Cilicia, Broadway Market
Clicia, Stoke Newington
Climpson & Sons, Hackney
Coco Momo Cafe Bar, Marylebone
Coffee Cake, Finsbury Park
The Coffee House, Philadelphia, USA
Cora's, Montreal
Corner Deli, Hackney
Counter Cafe, Hackney Wick
Covenant Community Church, Cleveland, USA
Cowshed Clarendon Cross, Holland Park
Daley Bread, Fitzrovia
Dalston Lane Cafe, Hackney
Davy's Wine Bar, Fitzrovia
The Dartmouth Arms, Dartmouth Park
Dean Street Townhouse, Soho
The Delaunay, Covent Garden
The Deli, Walthamstow
Delice de France, Euston
Dem Cafe Bar, Stoke Newington
The Deptford Project, Deptford
The Dervish, Stoke Newington
Diana's Diner, Covent Garden
The Diner, Camden Town
The Diner, Shoreditch
Dino's Grill & Restaurant, Spitalfields
Divalls, Brighton (now closed)
DK's Cafe, Victoria
Docklands Diner, Docklands
Dominique's in Hampstead Heath, Hampstead
Dottie's True Blue Café, San Francisco, USA
Dumouchel Bakery, Leeds
Eat, Paddington
Eat, Soho Square
Eat 17, Walthamstow
The Eclipse, Lower Clapton
Elbows Cafe, Hackney
The Elk in the Woods, Islington
Elliot's Cafe, Bethnal Green
Elmo's Diner, North Carolina
El Vergel, Borough
The Empress of India, Victoria Park
The Engineer, Primrose Hill
Escape, Llandudno
Est Est Est, Gatwick Airport
European, Melbourne
Euphorium Bakery, Islington
Eurostar, Gare du Nord to London Waterloo
Euston Sandwich Bar, Fitzrovia
Evin Cafe Bar, Dalston
Fernandez & Wells, Soho
Fifteen, Shoreditch
Fika, Shoreditch
Fish House, Hackney
Fino's Orangery, Docklands
Fire Bar and Bistro, Newquay
Flame Cafe Bistro, Highbury
Flâneur, Clerkenwell (closed)
The Fleet River Bakery, Holborn
Food Van, Kingsland Waste Market
The Foyer, BBC Television Centre, Shepherd's Bush
Fortess Cafe Restaurant, Tufnell Park
Franco's, Shoreditch
Frank's Cafe and Campari Bar, Peckham
Franklins, East Dulwich
Franze & Evans, Shoreditch
La Fromagerie, Marylebone
Gail's, Clerkenwell
The Garden Restaurant, Mayford, Surrey
Garden Cafe and Restaurant, South Hampstead
Garfunkel's, Heathrow Airport
The Garrison, Bermondsey
Gastro, Clapham
The Gastrodome, The Hay Festival
The Gate, Newington Green
The Gatehouse, Highgate
The Garden Restaurant, Mayford, Surrey
Garufa Argentine Grill, Highbury
Giraffe, Spitalfields
Gill Wing Café, Highbury (now closed)
G Muratori, Clerkenwell
Goodfare, Camden Town
Gracelands, Kensal Green
Greaseless Spoon Cafe, Holborn
The Green, Islington
Green and Fortune Cafe, King's Cross
Greenwich Picturehouse, Greenwich
The Grocery, Shoreditch
Grove Cafe, Highbury
Guy Fawkes Inn, York
Hackney City Farm, Hackney
Half Moon Café, Hammersmith
Harpers, Borough
Hawksmoor, Spitalfields
Homa, Stoke Newington
Honest Food, Brixton
The Honest Sausage, Regent's Park
Hotel Cabinn City, Copenhagen, Denmark
Hoxton Grille, Shoreditch
Hugo's, Queens Park
Inflight Food Trolley, EasyJet
IKEA, Edmonton
The Farm of Beverley Hills, California
Fire Bar and Bistro Newquay
First Great Western Railways, Swansea to London
Fluffy Rock Cafe, Glastonbury Festival
Gusto, Cape Town
J's, West Hampstead
J + A Cafe, Clerkenwell
Jack N Jills, Beverley Hills, USA
Jack's, Queens Park
Jocks Cafe, Acton
Joe Allen, Covent Garden
Kako, Camden Town
Kalendar, Highgate
Kekik Cafe Bistro Grill, Farringdon
Kensington Square Kitchen, Kensington
Kika, Highbury
Kings Café, Finchley
The Kitchen, Polperro
Konstam, King's Cross (now closed)
La Casita, Streatham
La Vie En Rose, Hackney
Lakeland Cafe, Brent Cross
La Liaison, South Kensington
Lantana, Fitzrovia
Le Chandelier, East Dulwich
Le Pain Quotidien, South Bank
Le Pain Quotidien, St Pancras International
The Lead Station, Chorlton, Manchester
Leila's Shop, Shoreditch
Leon, Spitalfields
Leo's Café and Restaurant, Dalston
Lifebuoy Café, Fowey
The Lime Cafe, Harringay
Little Chef, Popham, Hampshire
Little Georgia, Hackney
Little Mo's Cafe, Dalston
Little Portland Cafe, Fitzrovia
The Lockside Cafe, Bristol
Long White Cloud, Shoreditch
Lucile's, Boulder, USA
Lucius & Richards, Peckham (closed)
Lucky 7, Westbourne Green
The Luxe, Spitalfields
Mad Bishop & Bear, Paddington
Made in Camden, Chalk Farm
Manic Organic, Glastonbury
Maison Bertaux, Soho
Manolis Cafe, Lower Holloway
Manzara, Notting Hill
Maria's, Borough
Mario's Cafe, Kentish Town
Maze Grill, Mayfair
McDonald's, Somewhere or Other
McDonald's, Painesville, Ohio, USA
Meals, Bloomsbury
Medcalf, Clerkenwell (no longer serving breakfast)
Mess, Hackney Central
Mike's Cafe, Notting Hill
The Milk Bar, Soho
The Modern Pantry, Clerkenwell
Moomba World Café, Putney
Mon P'tit Chou, East Dulwich
Moonbow Jakes, Brockley
Morrison's Cafe, Scunthorpe
Mouse & de Lotz Cafe, Dalston
Mr Christian's, Islington
myhotel, Bloomsbury
My Tea Shop, London Bridge
The New Piccadilly, Soho (closed)
New River Cafe, Stoke Newington
Nhow Hotel, Berlin
Nice Croissant, Wanstead
Nico's Restaurant, Bethnal Green
Nineteen, Streatham
Olympia Restaurant, Mount Airy, USA
One Railways, London to Norwich
Ottolenghi, Islington
Orient EspressO, Borough
The Oxford, Kentish Town
Ozone Coffee Roasters, Shoreditch
Pancake Cafe, Bloomsbury
Paper Moon Diner, Baltimore
Paradise Cafe, Kensal Rise
Paradise Cafe, Lower Holloway
Paris Cafe & Sandwich Bar, Hoxton
Parliament Hill Café, Hampstead Heath
Pastis, New York
Paternoster Chop House
Patisserie Ann Marie, Balham
Patisserie Valerie, Marylebone
Patisserie Valérie, Soho
Paul, Covent Garden
The Pavilion Cafe, Hackney
The Peckham Experiment, Peckham
The Penz, Innsbruck
Perfect Blend, Streatham
Pete's Mini Bar, Putney
Peter de Wit's, Greenwich
E Pellicci, Bethnal Green
Phileas Fogg, Brussels, Belgium
Phoenix Restaurant, Brixton
The Pineapple, Kentish Town
Pistachios, Greenwich
The Place Cafe, Euston
Ponti's, Stansted Airport
Portorais Hotel, Palermo, Sicily
Pret a Manger, Somewhere or Other
The Premises, Shoreditch
The Priory, Roehampton
Prime Burger, New York
The Prince Regent, Herne Hill
The Providores and Tapa Room, Marylebone
Prufrock Café, Clerkenwell
Puccino's, Surbiton
Pullen's Dining Room, Herne Hill
Purple, Streatham
The Quality Chop House, Farringdon
Queens Wood Cafe, Highgate
The Redchurch, Shoreditch
Regency Cafe, Pimlico
Relish, Newington Green
The Rex St. Lucian Hotel, St Lucia
Riding House Café, Fitzrovia
River Cafe, Fulham
Rivington Grill, Shoreditch
Roast, Borough
Rock Steady Eddie's, Camberwell
The Rosemary Branch, De Beauvoir Town
Rose's, Brondesbury
Rossi Restaurant, Spitalfields (closed)
The Russet, Hackney Downs
Rustique, Tufnell Park
Sands of Kahana, Kahana, Maui
The Sandwich Box, Highbury
S & M Café, Islington
S & M Café, Spitalfields
Scandinavian Kitchen, Fitzrovia
Shakespeare Bed & Breakfast, Lancaster
The Shepherdess Cafe, Shoreditch
Shoreditch House, Shoreditch
Silvas, Soho
Simpsons-in-the-Strand, Covent Garden
Si Signore, Brighton
Slyman's, Cleveland, Ohio
Smallfish, Shoreditch (now closed)
Smiths of Smithfield, Farringdon
Soup + Salad, Spitalfields
Spark Cafe, Clapton
St Giles Café, Oxford
St John Bread & Wine, Spitalfields
Stack 'em High, North Carolina, USA
Starbucks, Anywhere
Starvin' Marvin's, Greenford
Station Cafe, Kensal Rise
Story Deli, Spitalfields
String Ray Café, Higbury
Subway, Anywhere
Sveti Vrach Spa Hotel, Sandanski, Bulgaria
Sylvia's, New York
The Table, Southwark
"A Tale of Two Breakfasts": The Tin Goose vs Giraffe, Heathrow Airport
Taste Buds, Palmers Green
The Three Bells, Heathrow Airport
Thunderbird Cafe, Wellington, New Zealand
Toad's Mouth Too, Brockley
Tom's Kitchen, Chelsea
Towpath, De Beauvoir Town
TJ's, Mortlake
Trattoria Sapori, Newington Green
Trojka, Primrose Hill
The University Women's Club, Mayfair
The Uplands Bar & Brasserie, East Dulwich
Uplands Cafe, East Dulwich
Urban Angel, Islington
Village Café, Gospel Oak
The Village Cafe, Ladywell
Villandry, Fitzrovia
The W and The James, Chicago
The Waiting Rooms, Palmers Green
The Walpole, Ealing
The Wapping Project, Wapping
The Waterhouse, De Beauvoir Town
Waterloo Brasserie, Waterloo
Wetherspoon Express, Stansted Airport
The White Bar, Chic and Basic, Barcelona
Whole Foods, Kensington
Wild Cherry, Bethnal Green
The Wolseley, Mayfair
Workers Cafe, Archway
Workers Cafe, Islington
York & Albany, Mayfair
Yo! Sushi, Gatwick Airport
Yummy's Cafe, Spitalfields
The Zetter, Clerkenwell
Zigfrid, Hoxton Square
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