Met a friend for dinner recently, it was somewhat impromptu. I say somewhat because it was one of those occasions where she thought she’s have to work late but it turned out she didn’t. So, having cancelled our original restaurant reservation we met at Liverpool Street station and decided to check out the new(ish) Spitalfields branch of The Breakfast Club. It was a quiet Wednesday evening so we were seated straight away, all the while taking in the charmingly quirky décor.
After something satisfying for a cold autumnal evening (as well as stomach-lining in preparation of the inevitable post-dinner cocktails), I ordered a cheeseburger. My friend, being vegetarian, opted for the Halloumi wrap. The food arrived quickly (almost too quickly) and I was disappointed. My burger was dry, bland and over-cooked with too much bun for the size of the patty and the cheese being what I can only assume was a slice of American processed. In addition, the coleslaw was bland and watery, the dish's saving grace came in the form of the piping hot and delicious potato wedges - must've been a fresh batch. The other saving grace being that we arrived in the nick of time for happy hour which saved us precious monies from our delicious mango daiquiris.
The service though, leaves something to be desired, it was quiet, admittedly but the waiters were rather inattentive and spent much of the evening chatting just out of sight to the point where out of necessity we had to wave them over, overall the breakfast club should stick to breakfast. Now, there has been a lot of talk about the smeg-fridge door where you’ll find the mayor of scaredy-cat town, a less-than-secret speakeasy where you’ll find delicious cocktails abound. Check the menu and ask your waiter for details, let’s just say that the disappointing food was saved by our lovely cocktails.
I decided to give this same branch another try a few days later as a friend came to visit for the day from Oxford. Ginger, Harsh and I decided to fuel up with a good brunch in advance of a day of a London stomp and brunch, after all, is how The Breakfast Club made its name. Arriving at 10.30am on a Sunday, the place was immensely busy which meant a little wait and time to peruse the extensive breakfasty-brunchy options. We were seated in one of the booth seats which are really nice and apparently from re-claimed changing room benches, much of the furniture here is made from re-claimed items which is great.
Again, probably owing the busyness of the place this time, rather than quietness as in my previous visit, the service was hectic and inattentive and we had to wave someone over to get them to take our order, we’d chosen what we wanted as we were queuing for a table so the extra wait was a bit irritating. Furthermore I think we were served by at least four different people which is less than ideal. Teas and coffees all round, I must say that my flat white was absolutely delicious. I don’t know what coffee blend they use but it’s a winner. I ordered the chorizo hash browns but one of the eggs came underdone, they are cooked sunny side up which I don’t have a problem with but one of them had a lot of the white un-cooked. A waitress took them back to the kitchen only to have them returned to me cooked all the way through. They had clearly taken the same eggs off my plate, put them back in the pan and cooked it through. This isn’t what I wanted at all and it meant I missed out on the runny yolk. It’s not so much that they did this that bothers me, I realise they were busy but they didn’t check with me if this would be ok and were so unapologetic all the while. I only complained about one egg and both were returned to me cooked through to the point of rubbery. Harsh’s green eggs and ham was also dry but good she told me and Ginger’s all-american pancakes went down a storm so a mixed bag really, but having had two rather disappointing meals in a row, I might skip the food and head straight for the cocktails in future.
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A blog about life in London. The occasional recipe, the odd rant, mostly encouragement to stop, take time to embrace this great city and all it has to offer.
Showing posts with label Spitalfields. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spitalfields. Show all posts
Monday, 21 November 2011
Monday, 14 November 2011
Artillery Passage
I've wandered through Artillery Passage on a number of occasions as it's a handy cut through from Spitalfields through to Bishopsgate and Liverpool Street station. Each time I think on how charming it is and a snapshot of a London from a bygone era. So of a Friday night, on a quest for some satisfying meal T and I decided Spitalfields would provide the answer to our foodie hankering. What we were hankering for we weren't entirely sure but we thought Spitalfields would have it as that lovely covered market houses just about any food stuff you can think of. As it turned out something more secluded was in order and so my mind raced to Artillery Passage where a number of quaint and (mostly) independent restaurants nestle side by side. Although slightly marred by the sight of giant pink wheelie bins and by the groups of Jack the Ripper tourists (ugh, tourists!) there is a certain sinister magic to the place. No wonder, given that Jack's final victim, Mary Kelly was found yards from the alley and little seems to have changed there since his day.
The passage is also home to Alexander Boyd, a beautiful menswear shop and a testament to the rag-trade heritage of the East end. Alexander Boyd's tailoring workshop is the only one that remains in Whitechapel and The Gentle Author over at Spitalfields Life has written a marvellous piece about it.
The restaurants here are varied and you're will find something to suit your tastes. Of course, our usual tactic of gawping through the windows at people's plates to decide if it looked suitably tasty worked a treat and we found ourselves nestled in a table at Olives and Figs. It is a fantastic Turkish Mezze bar and grill that is both delicious and reasonably priced. It is BYOB which keeps prices down and the service is polite and welcoming, if a little on the slow side on our visit. A starter of a sharing platter followed by grilled lamb was a winning combination and we ate ourselves to the brink of explosion without stretching the wallet. Baklava for dessert was a welcome syrupy sweet end to a delicious and authentic Turkish meal at excellent value for money - I will be going back.
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The passage is also home to Alexander Boyd, a beautiful menswear shop and a testament to the rag-trade heritage of the East end. Alexander Boyd's tailoring workshop is the only one that remains in Whitechapel and The Gentle Author over at Spitalfields Life has written a marvellous piece about it.
The restaurants here are varied and you're will find something to suit your tastes. Of course, our usual tactic of gawping through the windows at people's plates to decide if it looked suitably tasty worked a treat and we found ourselves nestled in a table at Olives and Figs. It is a fantastic Turkish Mezze bar and grill that is both delicious and reasonably priced. It is BYOB which keeps prices down and the service is polite and welcoming, if a little on the slow side on our visit. A starter of a sharing platter followed by grilled lamb was a winning combination and we ate ourselves to the brink of explosion without stretching the wallet. Baklava for dessert was a welcome syrupy sweet end to a delicious and authentic Turkish meal at excellent value for money - I will be going back.
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Labels:
Alley,
East end,
Hidden Gem,
Jack the Ripper,
Market,
Spitalfields,
Tourists
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