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.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
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.
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