The only thing worse than having to travel to Stoke Newington is having to be in Stoke Newington at 8am. I don't have anything against Stoke Newington per se; I have everything against waking up at 6am to travel to the middle of nowhere - which, in the Londoner's dictionary, is the equivalent of a place that hasn't got a tube station you can spot at 100% zoom on Google Maps. The only ways to lure me to such a place so early are offering me breakfast, or sending me straight to a place where coffee flows abundantly, and food is good enough to make me glad I dragged my West Londoner ass out there.
In any more central area you'd be spoilt for choice, and nearby Dalston also seems to have its highlights, some of which have been featuring in my to-visit list for a while. If you're stepping off a train at Stoke Newington rail station, though, you'll find the only remotely interesting coffee shop open before 9am is Yellow Warbler. To me and my (South London based) colleagues, it sounded like a godsend; their website promised artisan roasted coffee, award-winning hot chocolate and freshly baked cakes - what's not to look forward to?
Stepping in was a bit of a shock (I'd imagine it's the kind of shock people have when they find out the date they met online looks wildly different than they say in their profile. Not that I know how that feels). I was expecting a larger place; a prettier one perhaps. The size and narrow space reminded me of Workshop in Marylebone; the simple, scant decorations brought me back to Artisan Roast in Edinburgh (which, however, felt much more comfortable; a cosy lounge rather than a small bare room). Place a cafe like this close to a student hub, or in the middle of a hipster neighbourhood, and you have a surefire hit; it'd take no time for Yellow Warbler to thrive in, say, Hackney or Shoreditch. Instead, it's a hole in the wall down Stamford Hill, trapped between an off-licence and - well, I can't remember what else. I hope the location doesn't harm their chances of attracting crowds, as the coffee is right on the mark (Climpson and Sons beans, we'll meet again), and so is the food.
Because they'd just opened when we arrived (or, rather, they found us standing in front of the door when they opened a couple of minutes after eight o'clock), we could only choose from the standard breakfast menu, offering a wide range of savoury dishes and few sugary options. I was hoping to find cakes and pastries on the counter, but perhaps they only become available later in the day. Given my taste in breakfast (never savoury, healthy kick optional), my only choices were the pancakes and granola. I picked the latter: you can hardly go wrong with the combination of oat clusters, creamy yoghurt, fresh berries and honey - and Yellow Warbler's pot of goodness hit the right spot. I find £5 a bit much for such a small portion (I can name at least four Central London cafes where I've had twice the amount of food at the same price), but it's surprisingly filling, and good quality too.
My colleagues both had savoury breakfasts. These are more pricey, but also more abundant - think the size of a main you'd have for lunch or dinner. Order them if you're very hungry, or your resolve might falter halfway through. The Warbler breakfast (£9) offers a different, healthier take on the classic fry-up, with avocado and salsa served alongside the usual eggs, bacon, sausage and beans. The sourdough toast with chorizo, eggs and rocket (£7.80) looks great and smells incredible; even I, who don't do savoury food before lunchtime, felt tempted to give in to it - and all because of the captivating whiff of chorizo coming from my colleague's plate.
Service, on the other hand, was painfully slow. Two coffees and a tea took nearly 30 minutes to make, with several takeaway customers being served ahead of us, even though we'd arrived long before them. A degree of disorganisation is somewhat understandable for a small, local cafe that has just opened in the morning, with only one person manning the floor (who, it turned out, was covering for someone else, and didn't know his way around the counter and till). We wouldn't have minded, hadn't we been tight for time; we'd initially given ourselves 40 minutes, which should have been more than enough to have a leisurely breakfast, but ended up with no more than 10 minutes to ram food and hot drinks down our throats.
The preparation of food also betrayed a certain rush. Salad leaves from my colleague's breakfast plate had fallen into the plate my granola bowl was served upon, and even in my coffee. Before I could even say a word, though, the staff member who served us offered to make me another cup. They acknowledged every single hitch in the service, and seemed sincerely sorry, as well as relieved when we showed appreciation for our food and drinks. It felt like visiting a new friend you're starting to get to know, and eating at their house: they'll apologise for every little thing that goes ever so slightly wrong; you'll worry they're getting too worked up about it, and want go out of your way to make sure you don't cause them any more trouble. Heck, Yellow Warbler's staff looked so busy and flustered, I'd have offered to help them with the dishes if I'd had time. It's refreshing when someone who does catering for business proves to be an actual human being, rather than a stiff, contrived generator of textbook apologies; I'll take human and imperfect over well-oiled and rehearsed any time.
As I write, I'm yet to find out if any more of my work events will happen in Stoke Newington. I hope not, for the sake of my beauty sleep. But in the unfortunate event they do, I'm ready to put another 8am breakfast at Yellow Warbler in the diary.
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