Visiting British cafes older than my country
By my third latte of the outing, I was sitting in the dirt in Soho Square, surrounded by pigeons, needing to pee and feeling a bit weird about the caffeine. I was having a nice time. Honestly.
I’d set out to combine two of my favourite things, British history and coffee. How many historic London coffee shops could I get through before the caffeine overwhelmed me? Five stops and four bought coffees, as it turned out, plus the coffee I’d already had at home. That last bit was probably unnecessary.
E. Pellicci and some very friendly chaos
First stop was E. Pellicci on Bethnal Green Road, where you could walk straight past without realising how much history is there. Its family history goes back to 1900, and the E is for Elide, who ran the cafe and raised seven children after her husband died in 1931.
It was Thursday, late morning, and absolutely heaving, with people coming and going, traffic right there and everybody seemingly talking to everybody. I tend to like somewhere quiet where I can have a coffee and chill. This was not that.
But the staff were wonderful, staying sweet and friendly even with all that going on. I ordered a latte inside, then sat outside and read my book a little while they brought it out. The coffee came quickly in a big cup and was hot and tasty, so I gave it eight out of ten. It felt too early to give the first one a ten.
The surprise came when I went back in to pay. It was cash only on my visit, but my dad always taught me to carry a little cash, and thank God I had listened. The latte was £3.80 when I filmed.
I started with seven for the experience, then changed it to eight because the service won me over. If you’re nearby, I’d recommend it, although I wouldn’t travel a huge distance purely for the coffee.
Regency Cafe, without the coffee
About 45 minutes later, I reached the Regency Cafe in Westminster, by which time it was getting nearer lunchtime. My bad.
I had a peek inside and loved the classic London diner look, but it was full. Several people were waiting for a table, and the queue wasn’t getting shorter. I was hungry, getting a little hangry, and still had other places to try.
So I left without ordering. I’d like to come back another time, but this visit doesn’t give me a coffee verdict.
Maison Bertaux rescued the day
After another half hour on a hot bus, I arrived at Maison Bertaux in Soho. Why is the bus always hot? It doesn’t need to be.
The patisserie’s own history dates its founding to 1871, when Monsieur Bertaux fled Paris and opened a patisserie and tea room on Greek Street. A tea room on my coffee-shop list? They serve coffee and pastries. It counts.
Inside, there were so many pastries that I asked the woman working to help me choose, and she explained what they had and what she’d recommend. I nearly got the cheesecake, but ended up with a fruit-and-cream tart and a latte.
I sat outside with a silky, hot and tasty coffee that had a little coffee art on top, and the service was quick, too. It was exactly what I was looking for. Ten out of ten.
And that tart was honestly one of the best things I’d eaten in a long time. The woman had told me they did their cream a special way, which was enough to sell me on it. Delicious.
The experience got a ten as well because everyone was nice and it was calmer than Pellicci, which suits me. It wasn’t cheap, but I was happy with the quality. After leaving Regency I’d started wondering what I was even doing in London, but one nice coffee and a treat later, I was excited again.
Algerian Coffee Stores and a seat on the ground
A three-minute walk took me to Algerian Coffee Stores, which opened in 1887 and remains on its original site. It’s a small shop mainly selling beans and ground coffee, with takeaway drinks and nowhere to sit.
My latte cost £2.30 when I visited, and I took it to Soho Square, where I couldn’t see an empty bench. I ended up sitting on the ground, surrounded by pigeons.
The coffee was creamy, hot and good, so I gave it seven out of ten. I gave the experience four because I wanted somewhere to sit, then immediately realised that wasn’t the shop’s fault. It’s a store. These ratings, honestly.
For a takeaway if you’re in the area, I’d recommend it. The beans looked interesting, but my backpack had no room and I refused to carry anything else. Maybe next time.
Bar Italia and one coffee too many
Final stop was Bar Italia, where I got a latte and found a blue plaque. The building hosted John Logie Baird’s television demonstration in 1926. I’d had a question about television’s invention in the British culture exam for my visa, and now I was standing at the building. Wild.
The latte was £3.80 and arrived very quickly, but I found it properly bitter and less silky than the others, so I didn’t like it. Two out of ten.
The interaction felt less friendly, although I wasn’t inside long enough to judge properly. For my taste, I’d pick somewhere else.
By the end I was sweaty, jittery and still thinking about that cream-and-berry tart. Maison Bertaux was the one I’d recommend most enthusiastically. Should I have got decaf? Yes. I didn’t, and I was paying the price.
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