Friday, 30 October 2009

The Bread Winners

Bread is underrated. Way underrated. I come from a region in France where baked goods, pastries and delicious flour-based goodies are part of our daily diet. Even when one diets, one never, NEVER, goes a day without a chunk of bread. Or a croissant. Or a quarter baguette plastered with nutella. Isn't it strange how that goes? We obsess over carbs and staying thin by cutting out all starches and sugars from what we eat. But why is it that French women are among the thinnest in Europe and yet, are able to eat and enjoy bread while everyone else stresses about protein and low-carb diets? Unfortunately, I fall under the category of girls who obsess. So when I'm dieting, which is never, I try and cut out the carbs. Needless to say, that never works. I love bread, and I could never live without it. So yeah, I'm a lost cause. I'm French but I think like an American. Too bad for my curves. I guess I'm gonna have to live with them. Blerg.

Baguette with Nutella, Goddam You, I love You

I'm pretty grateful though, since London is able to nourish me quite well in the bread department. Poilane Bakery on Elizabeth Street is part of a French chain of bakeries originating from Paris, on rue du cherche-midi, and making a name for its self through its fantastic quality dough and varieties of breads. It is said that Poilane almost miraculously survived (thanks to a lot of hard work, determination and a great quality product) the extremely fierce competition of industrial bread companies taking over the bread market a couple decades ago. After only having been around for 9 years in London, in the heart of elegant Belgravia, Poilane is thriving on this side of the English channel.

Poilane Bakery on Elizabeth Street, Belgravia

Princi Bakery on Wardour Street in Soho has me weak in the knees.  Not only are their sandwiches the best in the area, but the quality of the bread is destined to make you wish you were in Italy, under the warm rays of the Tuscan sun, breathing the scents of flour and yeast baking slowly in your nonna's oven. This bakery is the latest venture of the guy who brought us Wagamama and Hakkasan. To that guy, whoever he is, I will always be grateful. 

Princi Bakery on Wardour Street, Soho

Thursday, 29 October 2009

Long Live The Ballet Flat

Isn't it strange how a simple ballet slipper has become, over the years, the biggest selling shoe style in the history of foot fashion? I find it incredibly odd and almost a little troubling, how the world's most uncomfortable shoe has become a fashion must-have. I've even been told by guys that ballet flats are the most boring shoe a girl can wear. Your hear that? Boring! Same with leggings. What is our obsession with leggings, they ask with a confused look on their faces? Guys don't get that either. If it were up to them, women should show their bare legs all the live-long year. Even in minus 10 degree weather and even in the rain. I get it. I do. Leggings are not flattering to men. Ballet flats aren't either. But the answer is simple. There is just something incredibly comforting about them. They make us feel at ease and feminine. They are the answer to all our troubles in the morning, when the imaginative fashion decisions are just not coming to mind. My ballet flats, for one...I can't get enough of them! I wear them everywhere. I wear them during the day and I wear them in the nighttime. I wear them on the tube, I wear them on the bus. I wear them in the rain, I wear them in the sunshine. I put them through misery and hell and I still love them like my own skin, like my own two feet.

Especially my Bloch ballets. I am head over heels in love, and can't get enough of my Bloch ballet flats. They are a great deal cheaper than the Repettos, and miles more comfortable and long-lasting. Originated in Australia, these babies know comfort. They even have a cushion heel to make your life a little fluffier when you're walking and going about your day. I have them in a patent grey, but you can find them in all sorts of kooky colors and shapes. I especially love the ones with the black tip and the colored base. The cutest and most girly place to go for Bloch flats is on Drury Lane in Covent Garden. This place is the authentic ballet store, but of course offers the wide range of street flats as well. Otherwise, you can always go to Liberty's for another type of experience. 

The Pink and Black Bloch Ballet

Bloch London, Drury Lane

Tuesday, 27 October 2009

The Freak Show Must Go On

I've been missing this! Ahhh...I've been missing you! Here I am, back in the blogging world, to fill all your heads with lots and lots of nonsense about London. Yeah! I'm psyched! My latest sushi entry has left me quite hungry for more food entries but I've decided to lay low on the food writing for at least one day. Some of you have brought to my attention lately that the food entries tend to be too plentiful and too mouth watering (boohoo) and that I should find more "cool stuff to do" in London rather than "good tuff to eat" in London. That's totally fair. I get it. I guess the fat kid in me comes out a little too often through my food entries and I can understand that we're not all food fanatics. So I have a great one for you. But if I tell you, you have to promise me that you'll at least try to check it out. I am notifying you a good chunk of time in advance just so that you'll at least consider trying. So here it is. 

Three months ago, I was dragged down to the Hippodrome Theater in London to go see a "circus."...Or so I was told. I quickly realized that the circus was no ordinary circus, but that instead when there was supposed to be a clown, there was a man called Mario, Queen of The Circus; the contortionist was a guy called Captain Frodo slithering his body through two unstrung tennis rackets in a mini 1970's McEnroe outfit; the acrobats were performed by two British gents, wearing nothing but a tuxedo and bowler hat, revealing, at times phenomenal bodies and chiseled abs; and the circus diva was a girl called Amy G. who liked to "sing" America the Beautiful from dark and mysterious areas right underneath her dress. Yes, ladies and gentlemen. This is no ordinary circus. This show is a crazy, burlesque, (almost) porno, sensationally heart warming, gut wrenching, and stomach churning show that you will not want to miss. This is La Clique in London and I must tell you now, they were gone for a while but they're back November 20 til January 10 at The Roundhouse in Chalk Farm. Book your tickets now before it's too late. Tickets are selling out like hot cakes all over the world, from Sydney to Paris, and you must grab your chance now to see this incredibly sexy cabaret/burlesque freak show called La Clique (promo video).   Enjoy the good stuff to do! I''ll be back soon with good stuff to eat! HAHAHA (evil laugh).

Frodo The Contortionist

Mario, Queen of The Circus

Wednesday, 21 October 2009

No More Nobu in My Life

Who knew Gwyneth's favorite sushi place was something other than Nobu? In fact, who knew, Chisou Restaurant had become her favorite regular lunch spot to go to on her numerous visits to native London?

Gwyneth's awesome lifestyle blog offers all kinds of fun advice from where to "Go", what to "Make", and what to "Get" to make life more fun when you're visiting or living in a special city. Her Bimbimbop video in her "Make" section has my mouth watering like crazy. Her bubbly personality shines through and she is, all of a sudden, no longer the unattainable Gwyneth Paltrow, wife of Chris Martin, but appears more like the girl next door...ahem, with a very very good haircut no less. Her "Go" section, offering travel, restaurant, and kid-friendly activity tips, is fun and spunky. It also puts the deliriously good Chisou at the top of her London restaurant list. She goes crazy over this secretly hot and not-much-to-look-at sushi spot, off of Regent Street, located on the adorable Prince's street. 

Chisou Restaurant, Prince's Street, Mayfair

So if Gwyneth likes to "Go" there, know what to do. Go go go enjoy a delicious lunch or dinner at Chisou Restaurant and please, knock yourself out! Order everything BUT the ordinary sushi rolls. No california rolls allowed here. The sushi chefs are the best in London so don't be shy. And more importantly, don't leave without tasting the phenomenal Avocado and Sashimi Salad, the Horensou Salad and the Spider Maki Rolls. And book a table! It's, in my mind, the best Japanese restaurant in London, without the over-the-top prices of Nobu and deserves high marks for food quality, service and the feeling of leaving satisfied and eager to return. Go Chisou , next door, is the low budget equivalent of Chisou restaurant, and is just as good as its fancier alter ego, plus no reservations are necessary.

Go Chisou, Prince's Street, Mayfair

Tuesday, 20 October 2009

Leon- A Food Chain Less Ordinary

As an expat living in London, I tend to get overly excited about my zesty discoveries. When I first discovered Leon, that was my first reaction. I was just ridiculously excited. Then I quickly realized, after many many walks through many many different neighborhoods, that this little quirky place was one of many many in London. Fortunately and unfortunately. Let me tell you why.

One, my zesty discovery was not so much a coincidental discovery as it was meant to be. The Leon food restaurants are haphazardly distributed throughout the city in 8 different locations (my favorites being on Bankside, behind the Tate Modern and on Carnaby Street, right by Liberty 's!). My running into one of them was bound to happen. Blerg. I hate it when that happens. It's like when you hear a song for the first time and you think you're the only one who's heard it and you want to keep it safe, locked up in a little box so that no one else can pretend that they discovered it first (it happened with Rihanna's "Umbrella." I was so psyched when I first heard it on the radio. I thought, "Hey, I'm the first one to hear this song, for sure, and this moment is mine, forever!" Yeah... that was successful.) 

Leon, Bankside, behind Tate Modern

Leon, Carnaby Street, right behind Liberty

Two, let me tell you why finding Leon's was a fortunate discovery. Simply because Leon rocks. It simply rocks. It's a fast food store, but nothing about it screams fast food. Leon has neither the look of a chain restaurant, nor does it taste like one either. The organic veggies, meats and baked goods are cooked with TLC, making you feel so close to nature, you'll doubt you were ever eating fast food. The staff is super friendly and smiley. And once you become a regular, they treat you real special. Their wraps are to die for, their Superfood salads  are smackin fantastic, and oh Jesus is their chili con carne f-ing phenomenal. And I'm tough on chili. Making a good chili is like being a good ice skater. Pretty much impossible. They even sell a superb cookbook , which offers all of your favorite recipes. So if you're around one of those 8 locations one lucky day for lunch, check a Leon's for yourself! 

Green Beans and Aubergines at Leon Restaurant

Outside Seating at Leon, Carnaby Street

Monday, 19 October 2009

Rock-a-Billy Fever at The Bathhouse

This tendency of mine to stay home and watch movies instead of hitting the town and being naughty has really taken its toll on my blog entries on London's exciting nightlife, or lack there of. Not to mention, my youth. These past couple of months, instead, have been used more for restful and lazy popcorn movie nights and have, as a result, triggered a disconcerting feeling of being completely disconnected with everything that happens post 11pm in London. All of a sudden I find myself being completely at a loss for words when it comes to advising my friends and visitors on cool spots to check out on Thursdays and Friday nights in the city. This cannot happen! I am now a London blogger, and this cannot happen!

I was going to have to change my ways. It was Saturday night, I was going to change my ways. I was going to put on my party dress. That was decided. I was going to kick up my heels and rouge my lips. Pick up a bandanna from my costume and dress up drawer.  Perk up that ponytail. Fluff up that front fringe. Don't go easy on the hairspray. Spray it on. Spray it on real good. Spray it on like there's no tomorrow. Hairspray holds everything together I find, especially when it  comes to my sanity. Yes I'm going out. I'm tying a bandanna around my neck and picking up those giant hoop earrings from my long lost jewelry box. I put on the highest waisted jeans I've got, and belt them high, with a big fat purple belt. I button up that short sleeved white shirt and tuck it in tight. I pirk up that collar too. Then I slip into my cool black motorcycle jacket and I'm ready to go. 

(Just kidding, I wish that was me!)

It's Rock-a-Billy night at the Bathhouse on Bishopsgate in Shoreditch and it is time to do that twist tonight. Yeah, Baby! This place is a real treasure. It is an old historical venue, with a crazy combination of Turkish bath-ness and Victorian-ness. Weird. But so so cool. The dance floor is crowded and filled with East London's coolest alternative youngsters who come for the "drinking, dancing and romancing". It is a weird weird place. You can even find a DJ rockin and rollin it in his birdcage DJ booth. The Rock-a-Billy fever (every Saturday at the Bathhouse) is vibrant and taking over our bodies and inhibitions. We dance to Grease, Dirty Dancing and Elvis. We dance, we laugh, we are alive again. Yes!

The Bathhouse, Bishopsgate, Shoreditch

The Birdcage DJ Booth at the Bathhouse

Thursday, 15 October 2009

Burn Your Bra

 I was wandering down Marylebone High last week, one of my favorite streets in Central London, on my way to lunch at Le Pain Quotidien for a Ladies Who Lunch event. Well, not really, I was just meeting my friend Met Mum and her adorable Little L for a quick bite followed by a very very frustrating trip to Selfridges on my end (no shopping allowed for me) but very successful one on Met Mum's end. I stopped in front of the intriguing window of Apartment C , Marylebone's exclusive lingerie boutique, and noticed this intriguing sign hanging from it. I walked right in, expecting a mix of S&M and feminist heaven inside but instead was instantly taken aback by all the divine looking bras, panties and nighties loosely hanging from the store's satin and velvet hangers. It felt like a strange combination of Agent Provocateur, La Perla, the Crazy Horse cabaret in Paris and New York's lower east side Babeland all at once, and for some strange reason, it worked beautifully. It was neither kinky nor was it super exclusive. It was draped with velvety curtains, and in the middle of the store sat these 2 luxurious 1920's pink velvet sofas (just like Mad Men's Betty Draper's newly acquired sofa in season 3!) making the whole room come together beautifully to create this totally glamorous space of femininity. 

Their selection of lingerie is also quite glamorous and special, ranging from the simple and adorably sexy Princesse Tam Tam to the soft and organic Eco Boudoir . You can find anything from the lacy black bra to the sexy red outfit and the angelic white almost see-through panties but not so see-through that it would make them look slutty. All of their pieces are provocative just the right amount (I have always found Agent Provocateur to be unwearable, too crazy, too provocative, too kinky, too lacy). So wives, mums, working gals and single ladies, there is something in this quirky lingerie boutique for all of us. Something lacy for the high powered woman in us. Something white for the little girl in us. Something black for the sadistic side in us. And something red for the devil in us. Hopefully you are able to recognize yourself in these descriptions. If not in all of them (ahem, moi? non merci!), then at least in one of them. 

Apartment C Black Lace Tunic

Apartment C Pink Chiffon and Satin Nightie

Wednesday, 14 October 2009

It's Tea Time!!!

I wouldn't say that I have an addictive personality. I've got my cravings, from my cupcakes to my cheese and crackers, and I do have to admit that if I start eating a box of cookies, it will take a tank, a soldier and a machine gun to stop me from eating the entire thing. Or a cheesecake with raspberry jam on top. Or a tiramisu. Oh oh oh, or a floating island! So yes, I guess if you get me started on something good, I will keep eating it until the whole thing vanishes. Would you call that an addictive personality? I wouldn't. I would just call it what it is. Enjoying the good things in life. Enjoying life, period! It's not like I'm making myself ill or sick to my stomach. I know when to stop. I do! You just have to remind me, that's all. Lately, or should I say, since my London adventure began, I have been realizing that some good things come as an acquired taste. I used to hate Yorkshire Pudding and all types of pudding. I now like pudding and I have grown accustomed to jelly-like substances floating in between my teeth. Tea is another thing I have grown to like. Actually, love is more appropriate. I love tea. I crave tea. I need my tea-fix at least once a day. Like a good little Brit girl, I've got my Kusmi tea tins, my Earl Greys and my Fennel teas. It's just a normal part of my daily routine and let's just say, sometimes a good cuppa is a great moment spent, and can best be enjoyed with a selection of tasty sweet bits.

There are two places that have made it to the top of my list for tea time. The first one is of course, in my favorite department store eva (!) and that is, at Liberty on Regent Street, on the second floor. Tea time at Liberty Cafe is delicious and is most enjoyed with a side of crumpets with jelly, or a high tray of cupcakes, tarts and sweet and salty sandwiches. True Brit Style.

High Tea at Liberty, Regent Street

My second fave place to go for high tea in London is not surprisingly the place with the coolest toilets in the entire city (toilet fetish?), and that is Sketch on Conduit Street, inside the room called The Parlour, imagine that. This tea spot is a real gem of a place, is truly ravishing and is scrumpsciously girly. Coincidentally, I also really enjoy their bar and restaurant for evenings with friends or lovers. 

The Parlour at Sketch, Conduit Street

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

Burger Mania

I miss New York. Especially right now, I miss New York. I miss the buildings, I miss the smells. I miss Central Park and I miss the leaves turning red. I miss my friends. I miss my favorite restaurants and  my favorite shops. I miss the pumpkin season. I miss Autumn. I miss the food. I miss my old flat. I miss the lower east side. I miss the people. Again, I miss the food. Yeah, I miss the food. A lot. I miss the burgers. I miss the Spotted Pig 's burger, I miss BLT's Burger , I miss The Corner Bistro's burger, I miss Shake Shack , I miss The Burger Joint at The Parker Meridien . Damn. I just miss those burgers. But why why why do I miss them so? It's not like I haven't been enjoying my fair share of burgers here in London. Or sunday roasts and fish n' chips. I mean, I've been to Byron, I've been to the Electric. Those were decent burger experiences. But for some reason, they just weren't good enough. They were good but they were not fantastic. I even caught myself several times comparing them to the New York burgers. Thinking about that one last burger I had at BLT, drooling over them in my thoughts, salivating a teeny bit into the corners of my mouth. Trying to remember why I ever left! In New York, it was kind of an obsession, finding the best burger in town. But that was how you did things there. You took part in the experience. You became a restaurant critic. And you blogged about it. I guess that's what I'm trying to achieve here right now, to no avail really. 

The point of this entry is not to bash London burgers. No no. On the contrary. I have decided to loudly voice my opinion of the best burger in town. And I'm ready to be hung. Flagellated. Tortured. I know, burgers are a topic of discussion that is very close to our hearts. So much so, that we may do things to each other we may end up regretting. So, let me just say, I come in peace. After countless burgers, after numerous tastings, I have found my favorite burger place in London. The Thomas Cubitt pub in Belgravia has me addicted to their burger. That's the truth ladies and gentlemen. London is back in the game and she is ready to fight for her right to burgerville. Last Saturday, I went again with a group of friends and we all had the burger. The look on every one's face was priceless. Oh My God. It was phenomenal. We all smiled. We were full of glee. The table went silent and we just ate, we devoured, we nibbled at every leftover piece on our plates. We wanted another one. It was just too good. Now let me also add that The Thomas Cubitt  on the adorable Elizabeth Street has been categorized in my book as a girl-friendly pub, which means that I give it a big thumbs-up for being clean, bright and full of cool people. In brief, all the more reason to go check it out. Order the burger and you'll forget everything I said about New York being better than London. That's a promise.

The Thomas Cubitt, Elizabeth Street, Belgravia

Monday, 12 October 2009

Give the Podium to Antipodium

Forget about diamonds. Dresses are a girl's best friend. 

Remember when we all started to rebel against macho fashion by swapping the long flowy dresses for the masculine and straight-cut trousers? (and by we, I mean the women of the 40's!). Remember when we all cut our hair boy-short and started flaunting our ankles left and right in an effort to emancipate ourselves from men? What were we thinking??? I say, we go back to our roots, forget about those prejudices and bring back the woman in us we forgot we were!  It's time to say FU to those feminists who think dresses are denigrating and make us inferior to men. It's time to bring back the dress! I have to admit that I, myself, am one of those girls who believes that wearing trousers, if worn right, can be extremely sexy and sometimes even more feminine and flattering than a skirt or a dress, especially if worn right. But there's nothing more attractive than a woman who is proud of her feminine side and flaunts it with pride by slipping into the stereotypical female dress attire. The dress. Ah, the dress. I love it. I have it in all sorts of colors shapes and sizes. I crave it, even! Especially when it comes in an ultra comfy material, like the incredibly soft cotton jersey material. The pajama material, as I would call it.  Yeah, so? It's not like I'm wearing a track suit with the word "Juicy" plastered on the ass! The truth is, the fantastic thing about today's dresses is that, if made properly with women's comfort in mind, they can be made to be quite cozy. That is, to fit and be adjustable to the daily activities of women.

I have discovered that there is one brand and one brand only that has figured it all out. Antipodium creates the most comfortable and sexy dresses you could possibly imagine. Interestingly enough, Down Under expat designers Geoffrey J. Finch and Ashe Peacock, who have made a name for themselves in the Shoreditch neighborhood of London, have successfully created a brand that is at once synonymous with the cool and simple OZ lifestyle, and off-beat and edgy London attitude. The vast collection of Antipodium dresses I have acquired myself is proof enough that this is the good stuff. I don't shop an outrageous amount, but when I do, I invest well and carefully. Here are a couple examples of my brilliant Antipodium purchases.

Grey Jersey Metallic Antipodium Dress, S/S 2007

Black Jersey Shoulder Antipodium Dress, A/W 2009

Antipodium designs can be found in their flagship Shoreditch store on Charlotte Road , but can also be found on Carlisle Street in Soho, Liberty's and Harvey Nichs. If I was up to me, I would stick to the Shoreditch Charlotte Road boutique, which is located right between Old Street and Great Eastern Street, and guarantees an enjoyable shopping experience. But, hey, all places are fantastic. This is London. Try them all!

Friday, 9 October 2009

Chop Choppity Chop at the Urban Retreat

The Gwyneth. The Katie. Let's face it ladies. A great haircut is hard to come by. I have lived in a little over 5 different big cities in my life, where I have had probably a total of 7 great memorable haircuts. And I am no young sprout. So yes, those are slim pickens. I have to admit, I am obsessively inclined to change my hairstyle every three months. I mean, drastically change my hair. I can let it grow for years, then chop it all off. I can decide to grow the boy cut out into a feminine bob and decide it's too cutesy. The long tedious process of letting the hair grow. I have been there...way too often. I am simply never satisfied with one hairstyle. Maybe that's because I associate a change of hair with a change of lifestyle, or a change of hair with a change of mood. Or a desire to start anew, to start afresh. I don't know. But looking back at my 7 successful cuts, I am starting to think that I may have a real problem. I was living in NYC for a total of 4 years. Tried  different hair dressers, ended up with one great one (Monique at Paul Labrecque , you have shears of gold and I trust you with my life!) The only problem was, before I knew it, I was moving again and the search for the perfect hairdresser was about to begin all over again. Blerg.

But there's no point in moaning about it, is there? We must find a solution (my advertising friend, who is the best motivational speaker I know, used to say: "there's no point in bitching," she would authoritatively remark, "the key, Emily, is to find a solution"). So there I was, freshly arrived from across the pond, conveniently in need of a haircut again and desperate to find a solution to my ever so bothersome problem. So I asked around. Prices were always too high. Senior stylists always too busy. Excuses excuses excuses. To my own surprise and delight, I nailed an appointment with a young lady called Natasha (recommended by a friend) at the Urban Retreat , upstairs at Harrods, and was determined to make her my loyal hair chopper. I went, she saw, she conquered. The cut was £55.  I left feeling happy, satisfied and ready to tackle the big city of London. I have had 2 haircuts since I've arrived in London. 2 different lives, I guess. Or 2 different moods. I'm not sure. I am eagerly waiting for the next mood swing to come creeping down my scalp. It's way too eery, I know. Tell me hair fairy, what will I do next?

                               The Urban Retreat at Harrods

  A recent nearly successful cut (making it the 7th)  at the Urban Retreat

Don't leave the Urban Retreat without checking out the Roja Dove Haute Parfumerie . The boudoir room adjacent to the salon is a gorgeous jewel filled with vintage and modern scents alike. Watch your nostrils flare as you breathe in the variety of magnolia, florals and musky odors emanating from the sparkly bottles.

                             Roja Dove Haute Parfumerie, Harrods

Thursday, 8 October 2009

Fish n' Chips a la Conran

I never thought I'd say this but I am growing more and more fond of British food. I guess, after over a year spent in this lovely country, after one too many of Jamie Oliver cooking shows (for lack of a better choice) and after numerous Sunday Roasts, Fish n' Chips and a million different varieties of shepherds/farm/fisherman gooey slushy types of pies, I have grown accustomed to the strange combination of ingredients (green jelly with red meat, really???) and the taste confusion explosions that have occurred in my mouth in the last 12 months. I have never thought of myself as food snob, not really, but I like my dishes to be plain and simple, and most of all, I like my food to be clearly identifiable on the plate in front of me. I like to  know what I'm eating and I like to know what I'm injecting into my body. I like to know what type of meat I'm smelling, what's in a pie and what certain mysterious lumps of goo are made of. Well anyways, I'm being open-minded, I am, I really am! In fact, I'm somewhat surprised at how much I have enjoyed the British fare experience. Especially when that experience consists of eating in a fresh and industrial-looking place like the Albion in Shoreditch. Cuz it's so much cooler than pubs! I just hate it when I'm eating my Sunday Roast in a gloomy ale-stinking bomb of a pub in the middle of the day, and it is so dark that I have trouble sticking my fork in that one miserable little pea.

Right across the street from the uber cool "members only" Shoreditch House, sits the "everyone's allowed!" uber-er cool Conran-owned Albion caff, as the locals call it, where you can probably find the most delicious and trendiest fish n' chips in all of London. Well at least in all of Shoreditch. It's got everything you want in a breakfast place, the food, the people watching, and the obvious 20 minute queue. No reservations are accepted, but as you are patiently waiting for your turn to be seated, you can take a stroll down to their ultra chic downstairs restaurant The Boundary , gawk at their marvelous bakery and let your nostrils and eyeballs be teased by their small and exclusive grocery shop. You will find that the wait is not as long as anticipated. 

                      The Albion Caff on Boundary Street, Shoreditch