The Luxe, Spitalfields
The Luxe
109 Commercial Street,
Spitalfields
E1 6BG
020 7101 1751
www.theluxe.co.uk
by Sunni Sidup
One of the things that I like best about Saturday morning breakfasts is the routine of dividing and reading the paper. Sarah gets the self-torture out of the way early by reading the Work section first. I start with the magazine and then swap with Kate for the Review, and Raoul goes straight for the news, dictating the world’s events to me as I salivate over Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s latest recipe. Sport is ignored entirely, and it takes a particularly long and lingering breakfast for the Family section to make an appearance. We can be quiet like this for hours, with only the crunching of toast and the trickle of tea to disturb us.
Not so at The Luxe, recently opened in Spitalfields market. Sat beneath a speaker blaring electronic remixes of generic British boy bands, the music is so loud that I’m having trouble discerning if I ever actually left last night’s party. Time is also against us. It seems that half of East London has come to sample the new local, and so the waiters fuss around us, clearing our plates before we can even put our forks down. It’s evident that we’re wanted out, and I’m not even halfway through the Review yet.
For £5.50 the vegetarian breakfast is generous and well-priced: eggs, beans, bubble and squeak, mushrooms, tomatoes, veggie sausage and toast all vie for attention on the same plate. The toast is soggy on the bottom but overall no one complains too much. I opt for poached eggs on toast with bacon and am similarly disappointed with my limp and unappealing slice of white bread. The poached eggs make up for it somewhat with solid white exteriors and gushing yolky goodness, and the bacon is cooked to a crispy perfection.
I am in need of caffeine and order a tea and an espresso coffee, and I am disappointed with both. The tea comes in a mug with the bag still in. As someone who usually drinks her tea black, I am dismayed that the brew (or should I say stew?) is totally undrinkable without milk. The lukewarm and bitter espresso is also a let-down. Despite my fatigue and its diminutive size, I cannot get it all down.
Having only been open a mere few weeks, I’m willing to put my gripes down to teething issues and return to The Luxe at a later date. Open until 11pm and serving as a bar as well as a restaurant, perhaps it's best to enjoy this place from lunchtime onwards, and leave the breakfast papers at home.
109 Commercial Street,
Spitalfields
E1 6BG
020 7101 1751
www.theluxe.co.uk
by Sunni Sidup
One of the things that I like best about Saturday morning breakfasts is the routine of dividing and reading the paper. Sarah gets the self-torture out of the way early by reading the Work section first. I start with the magazine and then swap with Kate for the Review, and Raoul goes straight for the news, dictating the world’s events to me as I salivate over Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s latest recipe. Sport is ignored entirely, and it takes a particularly long and lingering breakfast for the Family section to make an appearance. We can be quiet like this for hours, with only the crunching of toast and the trickle of tea to disturb us.
Not so at The Luxe, recently opened in Spitalfields market. Sat beneath a speaker blaring electronic remixes of generic British boy bands, the music is so loud that I’m having trouble discerning if I ever actually left last night’s party. Time is also against us. It seems that half of East London has come to sample the new local, and so the waiters fuss around us, clearing our plates before we can even put our forks down. It’s evident that we’re wanted out, and I’m not even halfway through the Review yet.
For £5.50 the vegetarian breakfast is generous and well-priced: eggs, beans, bubble and squeak, mushrooms, tomatoes, veggie sausage and toast all vie for attention on the same plate. The toast is soggy on the bottom but overall no one complains too much. I opt for poached eggs on toast with bacon and am similarly disappointed with my limp and unappealing slice of white bread. The poached eggs make up for it somewhat with solid white exteriors and gushing yolky goodness, and the bacon is cooked to a crispy perfection.
I am in need of caffeine and order a tea and an espresso coffee, and I am disappointed with both. The tea comes in a mug with the bag still in. As someone who usually drinks her tea black, I am dismayed that the brew (or should I say stew?) is totally undrinkable without milk. The lukewarm and bitter espresso is also a let-down. Despite my fatigue and its diminutive size, I cannot get it all down.
Having only been open a mere few weeks, I’m willing to put my gripes down to teething issues and return to The Luxe at a later date. Open until 11pm and serving as a bar as well as a restaurant, perhaps it's best to enjoy this place from lunchtime onwards, and leave the breakfast papers at home.
posted by London Review of Breakfasts |
6:38 PM |
3 Comments:
Oh dear. John Torode's new place that gained some extra profile through the AA Gill baboon shooting. Apart from Baboon, it is supposed to be quite good for game...
Popped in for a drink last Thursday - was feeling sentimental about the former tenant and curious to see what had replaced them...
At night it's basically a 1990s multi-room superclub, redesigned to pander to the whims of Divorced Finance PR in His Late 30s: terrible DJ music, blandly pretty waitresses, a posh florist and a good restaurant serving game (no baboon). I quickly downed my pint of faceless lager and got the hell out of there, never to return.
Went there last Sunday for a second visit after a disappointing first visit hoping it might have improved, but it hasn't. Full English, £9.50 Sausage undercooked, a very small lump of COLD bubble & squeak, Sent it back and was told I would get a new freshly cooked breakfast, sausage now cooked but the same tomato was burnt and the same piece of black pudding was reheated to within a millimetre of it becoming charcoal and don't get me started on the awful "toast" a soggy mass that had been wafted over the toaster.
Post a Comment
<< Home