Beigel Bake

Beigel Bakery

159 Brick Lane,

London E1 6SB

I did say, a couple of posts ago, that living in Shoreditch wasn't really for me. Financing-wise, I mean.

Well, this means that I spent 5 months living a 5-minute walk away from Brick Lane but in the other, 'let's pretend this place doesn't exist' direction - Whitechapel, that is. I still had the single bed (creaky enough to prevent any form of uncouth exercise), with just enough space around it to squeeze in my collection of vintage fur jackets, cutoff 501's and scuffed men's shoes (so I could dress the part when venturing into the cool side). At least though, it wasn't £600. Just, you know, £500. And the hot water worked most of the time.

With the remaining £12 a month I found in my pocket, I quite often chose to feed myself in the area, and there really is a number of delicious places to do so. If the feeding happens around 2am however, the number of available places drops quite a bit and I found myself walking up Brick Lane many a night (do not ask me what I was doing up at that time), to a little shop near the top of the street, lit up through the night, and with seemingly random rush hours.

Now first of all, there are two of these shops. One, ours, is called (as you might have guessed) Beigel Bake. The other, I believe, is Bagel Shop. Beigel Bake is the good stuff, I tell you. Not that I have ever been to the other side, but my first visit to Brick Lane was about 5 years ago, in the company of a family of dark curly hair and a good Rosen-something name, and thus the authority necessary to make such sweeping bagel-related statements as 'that other one, it's the devil'. If further proof were needed, 'the other one' sells ham. Surely not an accepted bagel-filling if the place's history was properly respected.

The place is an institution, and rightly so. They're not famous for their smiling service, but as the entire thing will last about 8 seconds it's not much of a problem. Bagels are fresh, fillings are plentiful and the hot salt beef is tender and perfect with tear-inducing Hellman's mustard. The bread is said to be delicious and though I have never taken the plunge into the artery-clogging cheesecakes, they seem to be popular. But my very favourite thing to do, at 2am on a Tuesday night, is to hand over a £1 coin in exchange for a simple cream cheese bagel that knocks a Dunkin' Donuts out of the park - and I'm a full 50% American.

Mama Racha

 

Mama Racha

Costa Rica 4602

Palermo, Buenos Aires

After three months in Buenos Aires with plenty of time to wander the streets, I have settled on the trendy Palermo as my favourite district. The stylish girls who walk around the area remind me a bit of Londoners with better hair, wearing the same skinny jeans and cool t-shirts (though they are very fond of clogs here, a trend I have still not come to grips with, especially with the many the irregular cobbled streets). The shopping is definitely the best in the city and, best of all, when the money in your purse has run out and you are carrying so many bags that you have earned the right to call it a workout, the streets are dotted with the most delightful cafés and restaurants.

Most of the places around are wonderful and a quick look at the menu and the dishes in front of the seated diners will tell you all you need to know, but one of my personal favourites is Mama Racha on Plaza Armenia, right at the corner of Armenia and Costa Rica. 

The atmosphere is laid-back and easy, I love the wooden tables and pale colour palette and the terrace upstairs is the perfect place to soak in some sun and watch the passers-by. The food is reasonably priced for the area and very good. I've had breakfast, a sweet orange juice to accompany facturas and dulce de leche, and lunch, once the grilled vegetables (done to perfection, though with their skin still on which made them a bit tricky to eat) and once the couscous salad which was light and delicious, but with the plastic-y cheese which is, sadly, ubiquitous in Argentina. The cakes and cookies on the counter taste as good as they look (the coconut-dulce de leche slice is ‘oh my god’ good), and are very generous portions as well – just see if you can finish one!

All in all, the perfect place to spend an hour, or the whole sunny afternoon with a book (and the refreshing orange, carrot and ginger juice).

Le Loir dans la Théière

Le Loir dans la Théière

3 rue des Rosiers

75004 Paris

Le Loir dans la Théière is an address frequented by all the trendy Parisian girls. You know the ones, who wear vintage parkas over their flowery dresses or Breton-stripe t-shirts with sparkly skirts, and walk the cobblestones in heels as if they were barefoot on a beach. They plonk their skinny little asses in the mismatched wooden chairs and talk, with much hand gesturing, about the crazy art on the walls, and order half the dessert menu because it's that irresistible. This means that there is usually a queue, and even a long one on weekends.

I always go on weekdays, because I'm lucky to have the time and I'm not really into crowds and prefer to have the comfy leather armchair by the window. There is a larger selection on week-ends though, or at least the most popular choices run out a lot later.

The menu is simple and light, just the way I like it. I wouldn't be able to play favourites because everything I've had there was delicious, but I will mention last time’s choice of poached eggs over spinach with a creamy parmesan sauce which was even more than delicious. Like, super-delicious or something (my dad often complains about my lack of complimentary vocabulary, I can’t think why). The selection changes regularly, in fact the 'plat and pâtes du jour' really do change daily I believe, which is fantastic when you go as often as I do (and I have been known to go twice a week).

Anyway, enough with the savoury, the real star here is dessert. You have to get up and go to the counter to look at what's on offer, home-made beauties rolled out throughout the day from the kitchen, their descriptions hastily scribbled on a chalkboard. Of course, you have to try the house special, a 'tarte au citron meringuée' piled so high with creamy meringue that I have never seen anyone finish it on their own, save for me and my best friend, who have been working towards that goal for a while now. My favourite, though, is the classic Tarte Tatin which they do to perfection, though their pear version is scrumptious as well. Of course, the selection here changes often as well and most of the choices are seasonal, so I have had to say goodbye, maybe forever, to many a homey apple-caramel crumble or silky-smooth chocolate-coconut tart. And to help with all that sugar, there is a large selection of teas, coffees, and even hot chocolate which I am told is very good (not my thing), served in wonderful metal pots.

As a last note, I couldn't leave you without mentioning that the decor is a wonderful mix-and match of old wood and leather furniture, with crazy paintings, posters, and sometimes artist exhibitions on the walls, all in accordance with the Lewis Carroll name. The service is, shall we say, Parisian (read, disagreeable and fast in a ‘please let the next paying people in’ way), but I say that in the best way possible, as I would actually be disappointed to be treated any other way in this city. And it tends to be better at the less busy times. And being smack bang in the middle of Paris’ gay area means that this is one of the rare places in the city where being a pretty girl will not get you preferential treatment. Finally, the intensely cool Loir dans la Théière could not be situated anywhere but the intensely cool Marais, home to all those perfect French brands that other countries are catching onto, home also to the only COS in Paris and to some of the best vintage shops in town. The rue des Rosiers itself is a lovely street to walk down, and perfect for some authentic falafel if you still feel hungry after that lemon pie.

photo from blog.elle.fr/ras-la-toque