Bakeries Around London: Jolene at Stoke Newington
As a pastry chef working 16 hour shifts (sometimes weekends…sometimes during the festive seasons) in the bustling metropolitan city of London - it’s safe to say that sometimes the last thing I want to do on my day off is to roll out of bed. Especially with the cold setting in and the sunlight dims by the time lunch service ends. That being said, there are those odd days when the only thing that keeps a foreigner, like myself, sane in this country far away from his family are the times spent with the strangers that become your secondary/tertiary family. This is especially true when said strangers are the chefs you work in the proverbial trenches with.
On this crisp Autumn day, a colleague and I had made plans to meet up at one of her favourite bakeries in London by the same name (different spelling). A shy 25-30mins walking distance from my own abode by the canal through winding paths across pavements strewn with fallen leaves lies a bakery/cafe/restaurant at the end of a quiet street overseeing a green space. You can’t really miss it with its iconic brownish red facade.
Arriving almost half an hour later than what we had originally planned (don’t blame us - the last thing we want is to be on time on our days off) we were met with a small selection of pastries, sandwiches, and the barista with the one drink that sustains all chefs…coffee. We grabbed a selection of “breakfast” pastries (a pain au chocolat, a savoury scone, and a roast chicken, pickled fennel, Moroccan slaw and aioli tucked between two slices of Focaccia) and our coffees and sat on a bench outside (the seating inside only opened at 12pm…10 minutes…we’ll wait).
After half an hour of embracing the autumn cold - talking about life - as one does over a flaky buttery pain au chocolat - we decided to have brunch…inside. To be fair, I pushed for this because I was somewhat enamored by the decor inside…the bathroom that is (those 10 minutes waiting outside was agonising). There is something about rough walls, industrial minimal chic, textured pottery and lit candles abound that strikes a chord with my old soul.
We sat at the bar facing their wide array of wine bottles while having to rely on my 20/20 vision to look across the room for a blackboard with a small list of sharing plates. We chose a selection of three small plates comprising of the Winter tomatoes, anchovy and garnished with onion julienne; the confit trout, with a side of horseradish cream and cornichons and garnished with dill; and Tagliatelle with beef ragu. For dessert, we opted for the baked custard served with sliced oranges and garnished with pistachio biscuits as well as a decadent chocolate cake layered with ganache.
Was it worth it? Eh…For the price we paid - it was underwhelming. Don’t get me wrong, if you need a space to escape the hustle and bustle of city life and retreat into a dimly lit and cosy neighbourhood cafe/bakery/restaurant then go for it. The savoury dishes left much to be desired - they were tasty but nothing that would make me want for more.
The dessert item was nice but simple - some baked custard with slices of orange and a pistachio biscuit. It’s a refreshing dessert but it was too “one dimensional” and needed something to round the entire dish. The orange slices could have been transformed in some way and the pistachio biscuit could be baked a bit further to add a greater textural contrast to the dish but that’s just my opinion. The chocolate cake though…no fluff, no fancy decorations or ingredients but delicious in it’s simplicity. Sometimes that’s all you need from a good cake.
