Posts tagged ‘London’

Today’s Neighbourhood Guide (yes, that extra U is important here) takes us to London’s East End, where American transplant Meredith Brown walks us through a bustling Saturday market that’s been providing the Brits with global delicacies and some veddy, veddy traditional (but tasty) foods for the past century. Jellied eel, anyone?

Oh, the East End of London—home to the original Cockney, successive waves of immigrant communities, the YBAs (Damian Hirst and his ilk), that scandalous soap East Enders, the Museum of Childhood, the 2012 Olympics, and yours truly.

Since the 17th century, when the French Hugeunots set up camp just to the east of the medieval City of London, the East End has served as London’s working-class, immigrant community. In the 18th century, the Irish weavers moved in, followed by Ashkenazi Jews in the 19th century; the Bangladeshi community arrived in the 20th century and more recently, drawn by the cheap rents and bicycle-friendly streets, artists and their hipster cousins have joined the ‘hood. Each of these groups brought their own vibrant customs and cuisines, and the resulting mix offers anyone willing to venture outside the comforts of Central London a plethora of interesting things to do, see, buy, and eat.

Brick Lane, home to more curry houses than you can shake a stick at, is probably the best-known culinary street in the East End, but there are plenty of other avenues for the dedicated foodie to explore. Take, for example, the cornucopia that is Broadway Market. (If the street looks familiar, especially the barbershop, it may be because it was featured in David Cronenberg’s Eastern Promises.)

Running between London Fields park and Regent’s Canal, Broadway Market (along with my flat) sits at the northernmost bit of the East End. The pedestrian-filled thoroughfare has hosted a weekly food market since the 1890s, and today’s version has more than 80 stalls of fresh produce, organic meat, locally grown flowers, ethically sourced coffee, artisanal food, vintage clothing, handmade crafts, etc.

The stalls officially open each Saturday at 9:00 am, and by noon the street is thronging with local residents buying their weekly groceries, hipsters nursing hangovers with Thai green curry or Caribbean rice cooked on the spot, little kids weaving through the crowds as their parents sample Stilton, Comté, and Emmenthaler from one of several cheesemongers, and tourists snapping pictures of the accordionist busker and his tap-dancing ladyfriend.
>> Get a flat white, a Thai Scotch egg, and a pint in London’s Broadway Market. >>

Today, we offer the final installment of C.C.’s London sojourn in which she finds the most wonderful coffee, on her last day, of course.

C.C. as we know, has been suffering from a lack of proper coffee in England: lines too long and slow moving for one with coffee jitters, cup sizes too small, white—too milky, black—too blech! And just an overall unpredictably that does not suit one with a caffeine addiction, n’est ce pas?

And so, after four days in Covent Garden, it finally dawns on C.C. to stop frequenting Starbucks and visit the quaint little coffee shop across the street from the hotel. You know the one doing a brisk business, every day, all day, even up until the late hours of 6:30 p.m.

But first, C.C. would like to explain the going to Starbucks thing. She realizes this is very bad form for an American abroad, the kind of thing she’d never think an intrepid traveler such as herself would resort to. It is akin to visiting McDonald’s in Japan for the comfort factor of English, more than the Big Mac. But, desperate times call for desperate measures, or so she tells herself. Besides, all of the other people in line were British, too, which tells you something about the coffee situation in the empire, doesn’t it? Not everyone wants to wait in line for an espresso. Besides, compatriots, not to worry: C.C. put on a British accent when ordering, no one was the wiser!

Anyway, after all of her kvetching, it turns out that quite possibly the best coffee in London is right there under her nose all along. [Cue angelic harp playing]
>> Where? Where?! Click here to find out where C.C. found harp-worthy coffee in London. >>