Julie Sheppard

What’s that in the corner? Looking like a tiny steam engine, that my friend is a coffee roaster and it's the reason why caffeine heads flock here. The place is tiny, with a handful of seats along the bare brick walls or on the bench out front. Started purely as a roastery in 2014, it soon opened its doors to enthusiastic Peckhamites – and now runs coffee carts across the city, too. You'll spot Old Spike’s seasonal, single-origin beans elsewhere, but the mothership offers a freshly roasted espresso experience, plus interesting filters. Our Ethiopian Rocko Mountain was a super-smooth brew, fruity and chocolatey. Barista Lucy was Old Spike’s first homeless employee, part of its ongoing work with homeless charities (that’s why its nomadic carts are called Change Please).  

Coffee at this cheery corner spot is the real deal. Beans are brewed up with just the right amount of obsession. A black V60 was mellow enough for slow sipping; flat whites are velvety and fruity. Big windows with counter seats let in lots of light at the front, while the darker back room has all the hipster trimmings with bare bricks and bare bulbs. But we really love the off-beat touches: old copies of National Geographic stacked on tables and shelves of used paperbacks for borrowing. On the counter sandwiches include brioche buns stuffed with bacon, brie and maple syrup or avocado and halloumi on pumpernickel. There are also pastries, quiches and gluten-free cakes. Go on, tuck in.

Blink and you might miss it. With just five tables inside and a few seats out front, 46b is on the small side. But what it lacks in size, it makes up for with bags of charm and very good coffee. Open since 2012, it’s got a loyal local following. The friendly owners know everyone: mums drop in with their kids for a chat, nurses from nearby Homerton hospital refuel after night duty and everyone else is welcome. Espressos are skilfully made with Square Mile’s Red Brick beans; a macchiato delivered reviving citrus bite. E5 Bakehouse supplies the bread for sandwiches and toasties with fillings like chorizo, cheddar and chutney or marinated peppers with feta and mint. Cakes, including gluten-free orange, walnut and olive oil are baked on site. There’s a homespun feel to the decor; bright pot plants line the shelves, stools are made from old crates – which all adds to the appeal.

Opened in 2013 as Tower 47, this Camden café has gone Big Apple on us, with its shiny new bagel oven. Choose from Brooklyn-style rye, poppy seed or pumpernickel stuffed with pastrami, salt beef or cream cheese. Don’t fret over the transition – the Camden soul has survived. There’s music memorabilia on the walls and musicians can still hire Studio 2 for band practice. And when you’re done jamming? Well, there’s jam or Marmite on your bagels, of course. Locals still come here for the friendly service (it’s the same owners despite the name change) and the relaxed vibe. It was nicely busy when we dropped by at 3pm on a weekday, though weekends get more hectic as tourists flock to the market. Get your caffeine fix with beans from Soho’s Algerian Coffee Stores, or the range of soft drinks includes root beer if you’re more Americana than Americano.

      1. You tried to feed your cat Whiskas once. The little shit moved next door in protest. 2. Some cats love canned tuna. Yours prefers line-caught tuna steak. Pan-fried (and cooked pink, you heathen!).3. Your cat loves licking the frosting off cupcakes – but only ones from Hummingbird Bakery.4. Most cats leave dead mice by the bed as a ‘little present’. Yours garnishes them with foraged micro-herbs.5. You get ‘the look’ if you give your cat smoked trout instead of smoked salmon.6. Speaking of ‘looks’ – that one you’re getting when you eat a ready meal? Utter disdain, and rightly so.7. Your cat purrs contentedly through every episode of ‘MasterChef’ (but not ‘Great British Menu’).8. You say: ‘kitty treats!’ Your cat thinks: ‘Caviar? HIT ME.’9. That goddamn day you brought home jamón ibérico from Brindisa but forgot to put it in the fridge? Cat Christmas. Remember the badass Brockley cat?