Having had enough of the Tube I surfaced at St Paul’s and decided to walk to Borough Market to meet a friend for what was meant to be just “a couple of pints” . The St Paul’s neighbourhood has, over the past 10 years, morphed into glass structured office modernity.
It’s now mainly a professional neighbourhood with office workers cramming into known chain eateries and the non-descript bars. Outlets who can afford to pay the rents demanded in those futuristic locations set amongst old London landmarks. I used to go to those bars and they served the professional market well. You could always find one close to the office.
These bars never flinched at a large group merrily approaching. What’s more, they took bookings and if your group large enough dedicate an area, and perhaps a staff member, to your group. Momentarily, I missed that life but kept walking crossing the river and got lost in the back streets behind the Globe Theatre threading my way to the Market Porter Pub just across from the Borough Market.
Ending up at Elliot’s Café after one swift Market Porter pint wasn’t planned. It was a superb spontaneous idea driven by a primitive man-need-food urge. We arrived just in time to grab the last table available, two seats by the door. I had and read a lot of edifying things about Elliot’s Café. No one seems to have a bad word to say about this tucked away neighbourhood restaurant on the edge of Borough Market and I’m not about to start.
If the menu looks random and a little incohesive, as if the chef walked across the road into the Market and grabbed whatever was available, that’s because that’s what happens. Need never worry about a supplier being late with a delivery I guess.
I ordered the chicken leg with vegetables and my legal mate the skate and we shared tremendously large side of maris piper and aioli. Both dishes looked earthy and homely both punchy and tasting like the things on the plate should – a beautiful modern British dish incorporating the right hint of comfort in comfort food.
For all its homely local thrown together charm there are hints of a grown up restaurant hiding in there. Monogrammed napkins and an apparently sculptured “E” shaped door handle on the thick glass front door wink at you. It’s not a shouty place.
Not far from London Bridge and the glass offices and Shards is Elliot’s Café. Lawyers holed up scrapping for lunch should pause, step away from the ever dominant chains just outside their buildings and walk over to Elliot’s. Take a client maybe. This is a friendly place that you’ll return to.
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