Farm Girl and the latte that won my coffee haters’ heart…

Farm Girl aka the place that made me like coffee. I’m not still quite yet the sort of person who downs triple shots of espresso until I’m as buzzed up as Donald Trump at the thought of a golden arches drive-through but I am now the sort of gal who enjoys a Liquid Gold Latte, made with cinnamon, turmeric & astragalus…

Originally opened in Notting Hill a few years ago when the rush for Aussie goodness in the form of London brunching really took off, Farm Girl delivers on trend ingredients, served beautifully and with a reasonable price-tag. Never take these 3 things lightly in a city where you’d be correct for thinking upon entering that the choice between paying your gas bill or feeding your avo-toast habit will now be an ever permanent question of your life. Read More

Making a beeline for Margot Bakery…

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New to me last week but familiar to the lucky people of East Finchley since 2016 is Margot Bakery. Created on the site of a former post office, this is the sort of place where you want to lock down a table in the corner and work your way through everything residing behind gleaming glass panels, dappled with gentle sunlight. Beautifully tiled floors take me back to the Lisbon pastelarias where I cultivated a love for sticky, flaky, burnished pastel de natas last year, shelves of takeaway baked goods hint at a future where the shop element may grow to match the bakery & staff have an easy relaxation about them that drifts through the air alongside puffs of steam scented with dough & spice. Read More

Pophams; Islington’s best new bakery and a slice of homebaked heaven…

There’s something unbeatable about the combination of a sheet metal grey day so cold it freezes the tears that tiptoe down your face and a bakery where handthrown ceramic mugs of foamy bitter chocolate and feather light pastries become the very definition of cosy.

If I ever find myself in a world where I have to renounce a food group, all things kneaded, rested, proved & baked can rest easy because I’d sooner give up breathing than I would bread and all its siblings.

Seriously, a life without warm loaves that spill puffy clouds of steam into the air upon tearing into, without tangy sourdough and its soft gaping craters that beg for salted butter to drip through them, without viennoiserie whose almost transparent layers of gossamer fine pastry are the perfect place for plump jammy berries or darkly beguiling chocolate or sharp citrus curd to lay their heads…well, this is not a life worth living.

Dramatic? Moi?

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The recently opened Pophams in Islington is a peachy example of why I truly love this sort of food. It tastes wonderful, it’s satisfying and breathes life back into your body on the sort of February day that hibernation or emigration were made for and it’s pretty.

Oh. So. Pretty.

Puh-lease don’t come at me with your food bore chat of butter calories and back well off with your carbohydrate concerns…there’s a time and a place for leafy green loveliness but this, my friends, is not it. Read More