Nibbles Scribbled Up

Thankfully in the second Scribble the Nibbles Supperclub I:

a) did not crack open the tequila, so can remember better what I served my guests and

b) remembered to take a few photos, in amongst juggling plates – including this nifty one of the menu board, so I have a visual prompt of what was cooked, even if I had forgotten…

What I always find fun about any sort of creative endeavour is how much of a learning curve each one proves to be.  Part of the process is sitting down, strategising the logistics and planning the menus/guests/table settings etc.  Having just spent a lovely lunchtime perusing Ferran Adria of  El Bulli restaurant’s ginormous bible, I have been thoroughly inspired and, as a result, I’m feeling doubly excited about October’s upcoming Supperclub. 

But this wasn’t October, this was AUGUST (where IS this year whipping away to, I ask you?!).  The theme was Silly Hats, and it would appear that our guests got quite into the whole thing.  In amongst the gathering we had a 6’5″ ginger fellow bedecked in a very glitzy silver glitter cowboy hat and, my personal favourite, a boy wearing a ginormous pink bow (apparently his cousin/flatmate’s, but I’m not completely convinced this was the truth, he wore it with such aplomb.)  I was cooking in cat’s ears, and quite a few comments were made about my blue polka dot apron – I couldn’t decide if the cheeky culprit deserved a bop round the ear, but I was frankly far too busy cooking to spend too much time pondering it.

Every Scribble the Nibbles Supperclub starts off with a trayful of little bitelets of something yummy, to get the guests talking (if the theme in question hasn’t already broken the ice), and whet their appetites for the meal to come.  Now, you’ll have to excuse my photos prowess – you should be used to that by now – but I was pleased as punch with these tiny Spiced Pumpkin pancakes with creme fraiche, chorizo and coriander – the recipe for which I pinched from a super-talented supperclub lady south of the river.  We had to all be restrained from guzzling more than our fair share.

The rest of the meal continued as follows:

• Red Pepper & Lime Soup – a very zingy and quite unusual-tasting (almost slightly tropical/South American) soup, which is a beautiful vibrant red colour and somehow manages to be both warming and refreshing.  And, as it turns out, is pretty darn good cold the next day as well.
• Chicken Estofado with Spicy Spanish Rice & Spinach – a Portuguese-influenced chicken dish involving lots of sticky yummy goodness and a wonderful succulent marinade.

• Chocolate Mousse with Berries – was dead chuffed with these.  Old school it may be, but Choc Mousse simply NEVER disappoints.  And they looked exquisite when topped with the sparkling, jewel-like berries and a mint leaf or two.

There was a little added extra surprise to accompany STNSC2, which actually ended up taking centre stage as the diva of the entire gathering.  Aforementioned large ginger man had sent an email a few weeks prior to the Supperclub begging for me to include the attached recipe for Cheesecake Strawberry Bites as part of the meal.  It didn’t look quite substantial enough for a full pud, so it has subsequently started up the now-continuing Supperclub staple of mini-puddings.   Following the roaring success of the bites, the culprit has subsequently been hired as the Mini Pudding Consultant.  Here’s a pic of the bites to give you an idea:

Popular little blighters...

In case that hasn’t made the concept abundantly clear (highly likely) I will explain: the hulled strawberries are filled with flavoured cheesecake mixture.  The strawberries can then be dunked, at guests’ disgression, into a bowlful of biscuit base.  A little like the mini starter, these mini puds are a little difficult to stop popping greedily into your mouth.  The Mini Pudding Consultant is available for public appearances, but is currently working on his next piece de la resistance for STNSC3.  Watch this space.

****THE NEXT SCRIBBLE THE NIBBLES SUPPERCLUB IS TAKING BOOKINGS *****

I’m taking bookings for STNSC on Friday November 11th – when we’ll be eating an American Thanksgiving themed dinner – both food and accessories.  The cost is £20 for 5 courses (including an appetiser & a mini pudding) and there are some added extras thrown in.  Email alexia dot pinchbeck at gmail dot com for more details.  You will be pleased to hear that my cooking skills infinitely surpass both my photography and my blog layout skills…

My Inspiration

Well.

It has been more than a little bit of time since I’ve given the Scribble the Nibbles blog some love – my business setup/plans for world domination has been taking up quite a fair bit of my time.

However, that doesn’t mean that things have been quiet on the Scribble the Nibbles front.  In fact, it has been all the more boisterous, only behind the scenes.  Back in June, I started up the Scribble the Nibbles Supperclub, which is taking place every other month (or every month, when I’m feeling energetic) – with Piccolina, my flat, as hostess, and me acting as chef/general skivvy.  It is so far doing a neat little trade and is a very enjoyable monthly creative challenge (as if I don’t have enough of them already!) – forcing me to produce some tasty homecooked fare and providing a little learning platform each time.  

Each Supperclub is themed a little differently, so let me try to tell you what I remember of Supperclub No.1 which, admittedly, passed in a bit of a blur.  So much so that I didn’t take one photograph so, rather disappointingly, I’ll just have to refer to my words to describe it to you.

It is deliberately designed to be an enjoyable, informal evening, although I think I learnt from No.1 that it is probably best not to crack out tequila after pudding, if you want to have any chance at all of you and your guests remembering what you ate.  To date, I have sat down at the table and eaten with everyone, although when my numbers increase, this sort of behaviour will no doubt have to stop, and I’ll have to get terribly busy and serious.  But I’m loving it!  Here’s what a few of my guests to date have to say:

“A thoroughly enjoyable evening of tasty, hearty food and lively conversation.  Alexia makes the best soups (after my mum) and is an amazing hostess.”  Sophia St Villier, the Tantalising Titian-haired Teaser (Burlesque performer)

“A whirling dervish of culinary delight, the scrumptiousness of the nibbles surpassed only by the folk sharing them”  Patrick Morris, Creative Director at Boskke Skyplanters

Whilst even I’m not sure if the word ‘scrumptiousness’ exists, hopefully you get an idea of what you might expect.  Now for a little reminder of the menu at Supperclub Numero Uno.  Let’s see if I can recall, hmm:

• Homemade Cheese Straws – to keep guests hands from straying into the kitchen, and to get them nibbling and chatting, they were greeted on arrival by some yummy cheddar bites, freshly hot from the oven.  A little irresistible, as we all found out…thankfully we managed to leave a bit of room for:
• Cream of Spring Onion Soup – like a lot of my cooking, this was a very enjoyable experiment that turned out rather dreamily – a lightly oniony soup that was tasty and not too filling, with a really subtle onion flavour – very enjoyable
• Spiced Pork Chops on a bed of spiced lentils served with garlicky potatoes and wilted spinach – the pork chops had been marinaded for over a day in a delicious smashed up mix of cumin, cinnamon and fresh ginger, so that they cooked down delightfully tender, atop a nutty bed of spicy…
• Lime & Mascarpone Torte – a favourite from my childhood, I dredged up the recipe from my old childhood recipe book.  I love this one because it is SO limey, and gingernuts lining the bottom give it a real kick.  Awesome.

The theme was Vanity & Silly Glasses, which got the humour flowing as there were several AWFUL examples of glasses (some of which I’m amazed didn’t put the diners off their food…!)

So that was Number 1 – the first baby step Supperclub, and now I am starting to go a little wilder and more outrageous from a creative perspective – keep your eyes peeled for a mini update on STNSC No.2, coming soon.

****THE NEXT SCRIBBLE THE NIBBLES SUPPERCLUB IS TAKING BOOKINGS *****

I’m taking bookings for STNSC on Friday November 11th – when we’ll be eating an American Thanksgiving themed dinner – both food and accessories.  The cost is £20 for 5 courses (including an appetiser & a mini pudding) and there are some added extras thrown in.  Email alexia dot pinchbeck at gmail dot com for more details.

Easy Peasy (a bit of) Lemon Squeezy

I am busy procrastinating energetically over completing some ‘proper’ writing for my day job, so I thought I’d share with you my little afternoon sojourn to Soho and rather delightful resulting supper.  Perfectly light and nourishing for a lovely warm London evening.

Whilst on my inspiration-seeking potter, the glinting emerald green samphire at the fishman’s stall on Berwick Street Market caught my eye, and a sudden craving for a fish dins struck me.  Not wanting to carry a pongy bag around with me, I carried on my meanderings, eventually returning around about 5 (he opens until 6pm), and asking his advice for an inexpensive tea.  He was very lovely, advised the mackerel (I’ll save my pennies and go back for some rather more expensive and luxurious white fish when I’m feeling flush), and gave me a quick filleting lesson to boot.  He managed to make something I fail miserably at every time look enviably effortless.  I resolved to have a go myself the next time.  I asked him whether his fine samphire would set me back too heftily, whereupon he gathered a generous wodge, weighed it, and threw it in for a mere £1 extra.  A healthy dins for under 3 quid – no complaints from little ol’ me!

Back home (having braved the tube with my non-too-fragrant parcel), my dinner was a doddle.  A small handful of baby potatoes bubbled away merrily for 18-20 minutes, whilst I got to grips with my itunes genius thingybob to provide the soundtrack.  With a low and swishy song soothing me in the background, I got on with preparing the fish: in a griddle pan, I added a glug of olive oil, 2 bashed cloves of garlic and some lemon peel which frazzled nicely for a few minutes.  Meanwhile I slashed the mackerel skin a couple of times to stop it curling in the heat, and cracked a generous amount of black pepper and sea salt atop, dropping it skin side down into the hot oil/garlic where it cooked for 2-3 minutes, and flesh side down for 2.

For those of you new to samphire (as am I), this little seaside veg is an absolute beaut – bright bright green, and the tiny asparagus of the sea, with a lovely salty, seawater crunch to them.  All they need to cook is a flash boil for thirty seconds, to be whipped onto the side of your plate and topped with some melting butter, salt and pepper.  Yum.

Oh, and I handily happened to have a rather divine little concoction in the fridge from dinner the night before: a creme fraiche/cream cheese mixture tarted up with a dollop of horseradish, dijon mustard and a squeeze of lemon juice.  Just the sort of saucy companion my dish (and I) were hankering after.

Oh hoo, trying out new camera angles...a little nibbler in action

If the raging desire for some summer sun has hit and you’re sitting in the office striking off the days till your next holiday, then you can do worse than to head to Brixton.

And more specifically, to Bamboula.

Opening the doors to the restaurant is like stepping straight over the threshold of a Caribbean island and, were it not for the occasional glimpses of gloomy grey London outside, the lashings of rum punch and sunny disposition of the owners, combined with the lilting music mean you can just about convince yourself you’ve stepped off the beach to grab a bite to eat.

I’d gathered together four little nibblers (including some who have yet to be scribbled up but who, after many years of nibbling alongside me, have duly earned their place in the ranks) because I’d got a hankering for some curried goat and jerk chicken.  Plus, what better place to have a lovely, low key gathering of amigos of a Thursday evening?!

I’m lucky in that they all indulge me in my demands to ‘try as many of the dishes as possible’ – even with the presence of two very hungry boys who were somewhat dubious about the concept of ‘sharing food’ (actually, come to think of it, Sweet Tooth expresses doubt about this method every time as well…), we voraciously ordered many dishes to be shared from the lengthy menu.  By this point we were halfway through a jug of rum punch, and so we might just have been somewhat overenthusiastic/vocal in our ordering.

It was a hearty affair.

As is often the way with ‘stew-like’ dishes, the photos cannot possibly capture the savoury and lipsmacking nature of each plateful, simply because they all look a little the same – that is, a bit brown and stewy.  Take it from me (and the enthusiastic nibblers) that this was far from the case.  Oxtail stew and curried goat were dark, rich and unctuous and a firm favourites all round, with the bones slurped loudly (that might have just been me though, I sometimes lack table manners when it comes to yummy meals).  Jerk chicken was tangy, spicy and sticky.  Ackee and Saltfish is always a strange one – in a good way, but difficult to place your finger on.  It’s resolutely savoury and salty, and the perfect accompaniment to the obligatory rice-’n'peas.

So, in sum: atmosphere: check, music: check, cheap’n'cheerful fare: check.  A plethora of plantain, peas and other tasty treasures: check.  There’s just one thing I’d warn you avoid.  The ‘food’.  No, I’m not being deliberately facetious, I don’t mean all of it – ‘food’ in the Caribbean is apparently referring to a plateful of starchy stuff.  Y’know, your green bananas, yams and dumplings.  Neither I, nor the rest of the little nibblers, could fight it down.  I’ll be sticking resolutely to the stews, thank you.  And I’ll be heading back to my faux Caribbean destination pretty soon.  The question is, are you going to come along too?!

A generous meal for five + substantial amounts of rum punch came to about £20 a head.  Tummy rubbing stuff.

One of the aforementioned dishes...Antoher of the aforementioned dishes...

I think this one was oxtail...

Grr - the Iron Man

I hereby declare winter officially over.

Spring has sprung, and I am throwing off the shackles of winter, and embracing all things sping-like, airy, floaty and sunny.  Which is why I’m off to collect my new bike from Luv Handles today!

But, and perhaps more significantly for a food blog, this means less hot chocolate, stews and stodgy winter food and more…juice!

It started with me discovering a juicer that I have had for about 8 years without using, and which was lying forlornly in the ‘charity box’.  My inner decluttering geek had turned up her nose ages ago at the juicer – surely the ultimate (great big clodhopper of a) ‘unitasker’.  But then something happened one day, I was feeling frivolous and fruity, and I thought I’d whack some fruit in and see what happened.  Pineapple, strawberry and orange juice, as it turns out, is a little piece of heaven.  So Spring/Summer 2011 is all about the juice.

Which is where my new love, Joe & the Juice, comes in.  One of my recent, and favourite work-away-from-home finds – Joe & the Juice is AWESOME.  The perfect place to nip to when in Soho, or to escape from the wilds of Oxford and Regent Street, and trick yourself into getting your daily dose of  vitamins.  Not to mention a good place to work, actually.  I find it a great source of inspiration – maybe it’s all that goodness going into my veins.

Joe & the Juice is Danish, which means explains the scandi-tall, rather scrumptious, laid-back boys running the show – surely worth a visit for this fact alone?  Although obviously this is not the only reason I like it, because, and I can be serious for a second here, the juice is absolutely spot on.  You can also have a cuppa coffee (the Joe part of the name, but you got that, right?) or a rather delightful looking toasted sarnie (I wasn’t hungry, but I was jealous).  But if you’re wanting a nibble,  I recommend you try this:

Cake with veg in is healthy, honest...

Their carrot cake.  That’s carrot cake, and not banana cake, as I kept insisting on calling it.  With quite truly the lightest, fluffiest, yummiest, scrummiest iced topping ever ever ever.

Squidge onto one of their big sofas, or tuck yourself into one of their lovely little armchairs, make yourself at home, and sip away happily for a good couple of hours – because not here will you feel rushed, hurried and scooted away.  The atmosphere is super laid back,  with music that somehow manages to be high energy but chilled (I have no idea what type of music, or how they do this – that was as far as my music reviews stretch – but suffice to say I like it),  the boys carry on chilled chatter with the customers and throw apples between themselves.  And the world is a happy place.

Oh, and boys, if you were a bit miffed at mention of the gorgeous staff, you’ll be happy to hear that you’re highly likely to catch sight of a model from the magazine company across the street.  But best of all, I think,  you can just sit in this lovely big airy space and watch the Soho world go by..

Joe & the Juice

walk down Carnaby street and turn left just before you get to American Apparel.

Juices are a princely £3.95, but if you drink it slower than I do, then it’s well worth your dosh.  I recommend Joe’s Sweet Kiss, or Iron Man, but I have no doubt that every single one will be lovely in its own unique way.  Coffees are from £2, and that there bana-I mean carrot cake is £1.70.  Which I would pay for the icing alone.

Apparently there’s another one the other side of Regent Street – go and try it, and let me know what it’s like!

The Gribbler's Bottom

Tee hee – I wondered how long it would be before I managed to get my boyfriend’s bottom on the internet.  What I was in fact trying (/failing) to photograph, was his favourite Sainsbury’s shopping bag which has a peacock on it and says, oh-so-modestly ‘I am naturally handsome’.  Ne’er was a truer word said, m’darl’…

It’s no secret that the way to this particular girl’s heart is, clearly, through her stomach, and The Gribbler is pretty darn nifty in the kitchen.  He likes kind of old school, quite epic meals (see our previous chutney escapade, and have a guess at whose idea that was…), and is particularly fond of what I call ‘Grr Man Food’.  i.e. generally quite filling meaty options (though I should add that he’s also a dab hand with fish).  He revels in an unashamed devotion to Rowley Leigh, the Sunday Financial Times’ chef.  So when I heard an excited and triumphant yell from the Sunday pages, and saw his two favourite (culinary) things combined in Rowley Leigh + a Belly of Pork recipe, I knew we were gearing up for one of our Epic Food Adventures.

And so, before we cast off the shackles of that long hard winter for good, and frolic off into the hills with salad stuff and lighter bits, over these next few days I’ll gently feed you a handful of remaining ‘winteresque’ food escapades that are still mere scribbles in my notebook.

The Gribbler was clutching his list of ingredients (+ bag, we mustn’t forget that), and trailing three women (me, plus the two bibblers), as we set off into grey drizzle and a, thankfully covered, cheerfully boisterous Borough Market.  Earlybird bonus – much more of a likelihood with 7am alarm clocks/children! – and it has not yet become the broiling, seething mass of food tourists of my previous visits.  The bibblers wandered around charming all of the various stallholders out of their wares – employing the same wide, unblinking look I used to use when I wanted food.  Come to think of it, not much has change, and said look never fails to result in a steady stream of brownie, cheese, biscuit and chutney tastings.  Our day, in photos:

Meat at the Ginger Pig

Pit Stop @ Konditor&Cook - we didn't last long without sugar...

The Fennel - Gribbler got very overexcited at finding this

The 'Erbs

The Star (Anise) of the Show

And then it was back to Brixton for the cooking to begin.  I won’t go into all the details, as Rowley Leigh’s recipe is where you’ll find it all, but suffice to say it was a bit of an experiment, and definitely a bit of an adventure, with a cobbled together steaming device created out of too upturned roasting dishes.  The theory, I believe, is that by initially steaming the pork, and THEN roasting it, the meat is left very very tender, and infused with the sweetness of the fennel and star anise, whilst the roasting makes the crackling we all know and love.

The meaty bit of the dish - see how it's upraised on its own little bed?

The tasty bits

Action shot: lemon rub - look at those hands whir!

The Veg - note wine: key ingredient in any Gribbler meal

It was a day given over to cooking – but a day well spent, as the two bibblers tucked VERY enthusiastically into their meal, making Daddy Gribbler a happy bunny.  Thumbs up from the two biggest food critics, and a big thumbs up from the girlfriend.  Lucky me, eh?

Le Piece de la Resistance: The Pork Belly

The Full Caboodle

Your Daily Dose

I’m riding high on caffeine (Federation Coffee, Flat White, Nude, Opus), so why not round it off with a magic number five?  Introducing….Dose Espresso.

Teeny tiny, tucked between Barbican Station and Smithfields market, it might be small, but it packs a punch.   If I might be so bold, I would claim that this to be my favourite actual coffee in London (cafe-wise, it’s a little cramped to get too cozy in).  I get one of their takeaway cups in hand (modestly sized, rather than these alarmingly vat-like S***bucks buckets) and I feel calm.  (The caffeine jitters come later).

Apart from the coffee, a few other things I love about Dose:

Awesome Menus

Menu 1: daily paper (roll)

Menu 2: (magnetic!!!) blackboard (paint)

A lovely little tippable bunny (poor thing):

'Tip or the Bunny gets it' - yoikes!

Wait – I’ve not finished yet!  So, not only do we have  brilliant coffee, entertaining menus and a threatened bunny tip box, but there’s also the ideal post-workout breakfast of bircher muesli (my gym is a bunny hop away), completely scrumptious yoghurt/fruit compote/granola combos, anzac biscuits (not quite as good as Federation Coffee‘s though, I’m afraid), and the friendliest staff around (owner James is often whizzing up the coffees himself).

Oh, and there is a pigeon photo that is worth a detour for – the perfect London snapshot.

Another fantastic Kiwi-London collaboration.  For more London coffee inspiration – check out this Norwegian espressoholic’s video.  My favourite part is when they literally start to jitter after espresso no.3…

Dose Espresso

69 Long Lane

London EC1A 9EJ

All your usual coffee prices, plus that there Bircher I mentioned comes in at a round £3.50.

But rather than lament that I’m clearly not going to feel sleepy tonight, I shall capitalize on my caffeine-induced hyperactivity and make up for not giving this blog much scribbly nibbly lurve, and tell you about one of the best places for hot chocolate that I have yet to find in London – definitely merits a top 5 nomination.  We’ve seen Paul A. Young, and Foyles, and a handful of other cafes’ take on HC, but I’ve known about this for well over a year  now, since I’ve been going out with The Gribbler, in fact, and it’s about time I let you in on the secret.

You ready?

It’s Opus cafe, Brixton.

This Saturday afternoon the Sweet Tooth and I arranged to meet up for our first ‘practically neighbours’ coffee, which was definitely a gleeful London moment.  Less gleeful were the circumstances under which we met, as poor ST was mugged by some ‘orrible thief a week ago, and was a little out of sorts after a visit to Brixton nick that morning (as a victim, I should clarify, not for any other reason).  I figured there was no better tonic for frazzled nerves than a large mugful of cocoa and sugar, and what better than Opus’ special Hot Choc.  Molten chocolate constantly stirred in a small vat, the key is to ask for a large mug, half-filled with the thick liquid choc, then half filled again with milk and a foamed top.  A mug of that, and a shared slice of iced banana and walnut loaf, and Sweet Tooth soon seemed to return to her usual chipper self.

You’ll find Opus about halfway along the rather misleadingly unassuming Acre Lane – I say misleading because, whilst it doesn’t look like much, there are a couple more culinary finds along the street than are immediately obvious, most of which are very well hidden!  I’ll be revealing a few more of this over the next few months, as I split my life between Spitalfields and Brixton.  The bright little cafe is lovely and quirky – and has plenty of amusing details like bucket lampshades to capture your attention – if the hot chocolate or, quite frankly, INCREDIBLE pastries haven’t already done so.  I can also highly recommend their soul-saving toasted sandwiches for when you’re feeling a little, um, delicate.   I seem to recall one of mine having something to do with parma ham and goats cheese and, whilst the exact memory is a little hazy, the heartfelt gratitude for the splendour of melted cheese is still with me.  It is run by Philippe the frenchman, who also runs ‘Upstairs’, the tiny little speakeasy restaurant.  This is one of the finds I talk about above, which I have eaten at only once, when the Gribbler (who lives around the corner) took me there on our second date.  The food was outstanding, but a complete waste on us two, both of whom’s stomachs were a knot of nerves…another visit required, perhaps.

Back to Opus – the place has a completely different clientele depending on what time of day you decide to go there, and for that reason is a quite brilliant little Brixton enclave.  Whether yummy mummies, builders, artistes, or writers, there is never a shortage of people-watching to be done as you sip your hot choc/coffee and nibble on your buttery croissant.

The Sweet Tooth and I walked out arm in arm, between us emitting a Hot Chocolate glow…

Opus Cafe

89 Acre Lane

London SW2 5TN

To give you a rough idea of the sort of prices you can expect – one of the special hot chocs is £2.20, and those jawdroppingly amazing toasties is 4 squideroos.  Mighty worth it though, mmm.

All of which is GREAT of course, but not so good for poor little neglected Scribble the Nibbles!  So here’s what I’ve decided, my dear little nibblers – rather than completely throwing my hands in the air and exclaiming that I can’t possibly start a business and write an entirely different blog, I’m going to let StN be my creative outlet for when the start up is getting a bit too all-consuming, and I need to think about something else for at least half an hour.  Which means posts might not be quite as frequent, and I will (attempt) to keep them short and sweet!  Still following?

But enough about that.  Today I’m here to report on another coffeeshop that I decided to hit up, on a day where The Kitchen Table and I parted company for the afternoon (on the strict understanding that I would be back that evening).  I went to Flat White in Soho - apparently I was WRONG when I said that Nude is meant to be the best, Flat White is where it’s at.  I know, who can you trust, eh?  I personally fink preferred coffeeshops is a  personal fing tho, innit.  (Feel free to hurl abuse at me if an adamant list-follower).

I know you’ve come here for the food/drink review, but take a moment to admire those lovely reed pens next to my hot chocolate!  Aren’t they SUPER COOL?!!??  I’d headed to an amazing old skool art shop round the corner – I wish I knew it’s name, I shall have to try to find out for you – with a view to using the art of scribbling to temporarily take my mind of things.  And, sitting there amongst the hubbub of this cozy little steamed up central London cafe, sipping my hot choc and dipping pen into ink whilst eavesdropping shamelessly on the VERY LOUD conversation next to me (quite a well-known a band member sitting with his Soho-cool accountants, discussing how much they’d made this last year, and whether he could afford his new kitchen/wedding – only us cool kids hang out at Flat White), I can honestly say that my mind was soothed.  Twas a lovely thing.

Yes, it is yet another Kiwi-run cafe (all the good ones seem to be in London, I’m darned if I can find any different), which means that they are fantastically friendly – I came in stamping my feet and blowing on very cold fingers, to check if they opened a little later and could house me until 6.  Open til 7 they were, whoopee for me!  Plus, they had some good lookin’ Anzac biscuits on offer.  Again, I didn’t try the coffee on this particular trip (I told you about how me and caffeine are taking a break) but this is another cafe that I’ve been to before and I can reliably inform you that the coffee is AWESOME.  Although I’d go as far as to say that the hot choc is EVEN AWESOMER, because it COMES WITH LITTLE MARSHMALLOWS.  I can rather boldly claim that nothing made me happier, that particular afternoon!  The place is often totally heaving, as it’s quite small, but patience will  get you a chair (here I refer to the virtue, rather than a waitress’s name).  The prices aren’t anything unusual for a London coffee joint (£2.50ish for a coffee).  Skip along – you won’t regret it.

Flat White

17 Berwick Street, Soho

W1 0FT

We live in a strange world where girls take photos of their coffee...

I sometimes need a break from my office (currently The Kitchen Table – oh the startup cliche) for a change of scenery and some inspiration.

Which means it is quite lucky that the coffee shop renowned as being the best in London is no more than about 75…93…well maybe 113 (it really depends on how long your legs/caffeine depleted you are) paces from my front door.

But of course, you’ve all been to Nude Espresso already, right?

Well, whether you have or whether you haven’t, I am here to tell you that it is worth a trip.  Yes, aaall the way on the Central Line, aaaaall the way to LIVERPOOL STREET (gasp!).  This is proper nitty gritty East End, folks.

Except that it’s quite glossy really.  No sign of Jack the Ripper in these here parts.  You’re more likely to come across a barista doing some serious damage to a coffee bean or two.

And boy is this is coffee that makes coffee worth drinking.  Throw away those styrofoam cups from all those revolting chains, and vow that you will henceforth ensure that every single (coffee) bean that passes your lips is only ever of the finest quality.

Before I get carried away I should probably ‘fess up that on this particular occasion I had to opt for the decaf.  But the staff were very nice about it, even though that request will be poison to any self-respecting barista’s ears.  I have, you’ll be glad to hear, drunk their ‘proper stuff’ in my non-non-caffeine days, and I can vouch for the fact that it is rich and powerful, and good quality – which means that this is coffee that doesn’t give you the jitters.

An espresso in (the) Nude - tee hee!

Even without caffeine, I did find that the change of scenery helped crank my little brain into gear – soon ideas were flowing forth and being scribbled up.

It helps that the place -relatively small, long thin and spacious, with a communal table at the the end, bedecked with super comfortable, super cool carved wood furniture from a shop up the road – is thrumming with creative energy and ideas, as bods congregate over their coffees to tweak graphic designs or plot an upcoming social mission.

Don't worry, I shared (a bit of) it...

There’s a range of lovely fresh and colourful looking sandwiches, which I’ve yet to try, and scrambled egg and toasty type breakfasts that make regular and tempting pilgrimages out of the kitchen.  Food detective-wise I can hold up my hands and declare their almond croissant THE BEST I have eaten in London.

So there you have it boys and girls, the number 1 coffeeshop in London.  And all for a(n admittedly whopping) 250 of your hard-earned pennies.

So go on, I dare you.  Go Nude.

26 Hanbury St
London E1 6QR

It’s really not that far.