Bar Italia: it is the real deal

Bar Italia. It's an institution. 

It's 

tradition. 

It's a 

foundation. 

It's an 

asylum. 

Bar Italia    22 Frith Street, Soho, W1D 4RF

Bar Italia is part of the Soho Zeitgeist (along with fetish, jazz and the theatre). Jarvis Cocker even wrote a song about the place...

"... now it's morning there's only one place we can go. 

It's around the corner in Soho where other broken people go. Let's go..."

Run by the same family since 1949, Bar Italia is a traditional Italian café. Simple menu, efficient service, mirrored walls, garlic hanging from the stained ceiling (along with the Italian flag) and lots of regulars. This place is so Euro they even accept payment in the currency. 

A table of ageing Scotsmen are seated next to me. They've ordered a wee bottle of Sambucca to go with their midday coffee. It's an established combination, black coffee and Sambucca. All they need is Whiskey and they'll have a Clansman. I'll included a recipe below, for those curious (or cold) enough to give it a try. 

How was the coffee? The espresso is thick, strong and topped with ruddy coloured crema. Perfect.

Did they have soy? No, but it hardly seems to matter. You don't go to Bar Italia for the latte art. 

Would I go there again? Absolutely. Perfect spot for people watching. It's Little Italy in the heart of Soho. 

Should you go there? 100%. Bar Italia may be small, but it feels like big things happen here.

Any other points to note? It's thankfully open 24/7. And who knows, if you're there next month, you may even bump into B.B.King or Liza Minnelli. 

Clansman's Coffee

Ingredients:

1x measure of Whiskey

1x dash of Sambucca

1x shot of Espresso coffee

1x dollop of whipped cream

Method:

Wipe the rim of a glass or mug with a piece of lemon and dip it in brown sugar. Pour in the Whiskey, Sambucca and Espresso shot. Add sugar to taste and float the whipped cream on top.

Best enjoyed whilst being dinked* on horseback, riding through the Highlands of Scotland, in the company of hairy, kilt-wearing Scotsman. Och aye! 

* Dink: to carry a passenger on a bicycle (or horse in this case) with only one seat.

Caravan: I aroma round a lot

It's literally raining pollen. I've sought out Caravan - a restaurant, bar and roastery on Exmouth Market - to spend an hour or so trying to avoid choking to death on the miscellaneous tree spunk flying around the streets. 

Caravan    11-13 Exmouth Market, London,  EC1R 4QD

Caravan is buzzing. There's a line of people waiting for a table and the maître d’ is gripping her clipboard so tightly her knuckles are opaque. Oh dear. The staff seem friendly, except that they are refusing to make eye contact. Instead, they dart around, orbiting just out of my reach.

In the meantime, I can't help but notice that many of the very cool looking diners are bravely participating in the current fashion trend of en masse denim wearing. I see denim vests, denim blazers, denim brimmed hats, even acid washed denim. Denim is trending all over the place. 

How was the coffee? Quite drinkable, but watery and too bitter for my tastes. The eggs are redemptive. My perfectly cooked scrambled eggs were exemplary.

Did they have soy? Yes!

Would I go there again? Yes, for the eggs. 

Should you go there? Yes, for the eggs. And the atmosphere.

Any other points to note? There’s a private dining table in the basement, by the coffee bean roaster and right near the open kitchen. Could be fun for dinner with a group of friends.

*The above image was appropriated from www.caravanonexmouth.co.uk

St Ali: a phenomenon of caffeinated dependency

Melbourne's own St. Ali has opened its first coffee bar, roaster and restaurant on Clerkenwell Road, London.

St. Ali, 27 Clerkenwell Road,  Farringdon  EC1M 5RN

This place is no secret hideaway! It's heaving with people. I hear Australian ascents, Caribou's excellent album "Swim" and the ever comforting lisp of the waspy London Gays. I could be in Melbourne! It's glarey-grey outside. And a pixie just brushed by me wearing a navy blue feather covered mini-skirt.

Feeling like cake, I turn to the dessert section of the menu only to find a note saying, "All emotional eating carbohydrate fixes are displayed deliberately to trigger impulse purchases at counter..."  I've been seated very far from said counter. I need coffee. Immediately if not sooner.

How was the coffee? As good as their product in Melbourne. Fresh, consistent and delicious.

Did they have soy? Yes!

Would I go there again? Yes, though I would not order the Sardines. They were covered in scales. The Chef refused to descale them, saying something about preserving their inner-scale, safeguarding the sanctity of the scales, satiability of scales... You get the drift. 

Should you go there? Yes. St Ali know that coffee is the great phenomenon of dependency. You will come to need them. You've been warned.

Any other points to note? Keep an eye out for another  St. Ali outpost  in the West End and Sensory Lab, a smaller-scale version, in Wigmore Street. Both are due to open in the coming months.