Jane asks:

Any suggestions as to where to grab a good old English breakfast in Greenwich and / or Blackheath?

Want to impress some Spanish friends and their 11-year old son, whose one reason for coming to London was for a dose of bangers, beans, eggs et al for breakfast.

The Phantom replies:

The caff that first comes to mind is GMT down Woolwich Road, in the same row as the Labour party shop (have you seen that scary new picture of Nick Raynsford? I think I preferred the last one where he at least looked bashful…) and opposite the new Turkish supermarket with all the fruit and veg outside – used to be Shiva’s).

I like this place because it’s not in any way tried to be anything it isn’t. It has bare brick walls with faded pictures of nothing in particular, decidedly nasty yellow and green moulded seating and a hand-painted cut-out chef outside. The food is what you’d expect and yes, the full English is very full. Sandwiches consist of half a loaf with your ingredient of choice inside, beverages are tea and (if I recall) instant coffee.

The Trafalgar Cafe down Trafalgar Road near Hardy’s Pub recently had a refurb, which seems mainly have been to turn the space upstairs into a flat and has resulted in a smaller, slightly more awkward eating space, but it still does traditional food, is still always full and still bustling. I seem to remember the sign saying it’s been around for about 50 years, but I’ll need to check that.

My next choice – and probably the one I’d actually take visitors to – is up at Blackheath Standard, Gambardellas. This has changed little since the 1960s except to expand next door. So the decor is classic 1960s mod one side and stuck in the 80s the other. Again, it doesn’t pretend to be anything it isn’t. And if you Spanish friends have ever heard of Squeeze, they may be impressed to know it all started here.

Over in Blackheath Village itself, the cafes tend to be somewhat more upmarket, so you’re not really going to get that full greasy-spoon experience, but that might not particularly distress your friends, who might be rather grateful for the sort of food Hand Made Food or Patisserie Jade dole out…

There are dozens of traditional, unreconstituted caffs in Greenwich, and they get more traditional as they get further out of the centre –  I’m sure everyone has their favourite – so expect a lot of other recommendations.

Elaine tells me that Laura, of the Nevada Street Deli, has been told by the council that she can only seat a maximum of eight customers in her delightful, but tiny, cafe and that’s got me to thinking. How many is too many in a cutesy little cafe that sells gorgeous food but is, frankly, very small?

I love the place – it looks good, the people are friendly and the food’s wonderful (though the ‘deli’ does seem to get smaller and smaller in comparison to the ‘cafe’). I am particularly fond of the savoury pastries, and I will be forever grateful for the the embarrassing time when I managed to order (and receive) a takeaway coffee before I realised I’d brought no money. Laura just gave me the beverage, though of course I was so mortified that I rushed straight round to the cashpoint to rectify the issue. 

It’s always a toss-up, though, as to whether I’ll get a seat or have to move on elsewhere. Like other favourite cafes – Royal Teas, Buenos Aires, Red Door, I have to take my chances, and that’s part of the charm of it. It’s small. But that doesn’t mean I want to be squashed in like a sardine, just to get a place. 

How many can a place this size realistically seat, one wonders? The council says eight, which I think is too few. Elaine tells me they can seat twelve to fifteen ‘comfortably’. I’m not sure I agree with that either. I’d like to know what you think. And whether you count the dreaded pushchairs in that figure.

Part of it comes down to whether or not there are large parties. People who know each other are much happier to squash up together than total strangers. That’s what makes us British. You could have a birthday tea for twenty all together and be quite happy one day. Another, one snogging couple, a pair of old ladies, one lone Phantom, a couple of mums and accompanying pushchairs and you’re full. Less of a problem in the summer, of course, when those lovely pavement tables are at a premium. 

So – how many would you say is ‘too many?’

Oh – and while the council’s exercising its brain, how about allowing the deli to open for pre-theatre snacks occasionally? Or the theatre could up its game. Either would do for me. Or – how’s about this – Laura could expand and provide pre-theatre yummies IN the theatre. I’m sure an agreement could be reached…

Mezzanine Level, National Maritime Museum

Last week I promised Pram-o-philes somewhere where you can easily manoeuvre a pushchair, meet up with other parents and spread out, knowing your little bundle of joy is absolutely safe. And here it is. Despite its being on the first floor, Paul at the NMM is a parent’s paradise.

The mezzanine is a wide, virtually empty area that for some time has puzzled me as to its purpose, its exhibit-to-available-space ratio being – well – sparse.

But whatever the failure to put much to actually look at in this part of the museum, this area provides a perfect spread-out space for your entire post-natal group to ascend the great glass elevator and meet, whatever the weather, in a bright, dry environment with halfway decent coffee, slightly overpriced sweet-treats and no sharp edges.

Service on the day I went was, frankly, hap-hazard, probably a combination of busy-ness and, perhaps, a bit of a language issue. I had a cup of coffee, which they got right second time around, and a half-warmed-through quiche which tasted perfectly fine if a little undecided as to whether or not it should have been reheated. Although this is Paul, and therefore never generally a bad option, the very fact that the chain seems to be becoming as ubiquitous as Starbucks has seen service slip since the cafe’s finding its way to our shores.

I was the sole lone-customer on the day I went. There was one other group – some bemused French tourists – but everyone else seemed to be part of one of several baby/toddler get-togethers. I wondered whether by the end of the day, they would have formed one huge posse, but I confess that it was all a little bit much for me (besides – staying would have run the risk of my looking like some dodgy pervert hanging round. It’s the cloak and mask that does it…) – I finished my coffee and left the small people to explore the further reaches of Fluffy Rug Land.

So – not one for pram-o-phobes (especially since the glass roof’s acoustics are perfect scream-o-conductors…) But if you have lots of pushchair pals, a wriggly two year-old and the desire for not-bad-coffee, this is a fine destination.

16, Nelson Road, SE10,

I’ve not been doing much restaurant reviewing recently. A combination of Really Busy and credit crunch have meant sticking with old favourites rather than venturing out anew.

Which is probably very silly. A few places that I once raved about have been slowly sliding – or have had new ownership that has traded on the name whilst dropping standards.

So, after a frankly dull curry from what used to be Caffe Massala (a strange combination of sugary and un-spicy) and a non-curry from Raan (now a Greenwich Inc joint selling the same sort of bland stuff it sells everywhere else), I decided it was time to get back on the trail of new places to eat.

I was tipped-off about the newly spruced-up Saigon by Luke, who told me that despite its unpromising appearance (it has that same half-baked ‘almost-trendy’ look that most of Greenwich’s cheap eateries have) the food was good.

It’s true. The place isn’t going to win any prizes for pretty. It’s been simply kitted-out – plain walls, red plush ‘banqueting’ chairs, dark melamine tables with condiments very obviously from See Woo’s catering section and a rather odd grey brick wall at the back of the surprisingly-spacious back room. The whole thing’s brightened with the usual gang of gaudy porcelain characters from all-purpose Far Eastern mythology. The lighting’s somewhere between intimate and canteen.

But I warmed to this place as soon as I stepped inside. It was clean and fresh, it had proper diners in (which is not a given any more in these cash-strapped times) and I was welcomed by a friendly, articulate host.

The prices are almost suspiciously low. £4.30, to be precise. For all main dishes. So whether you’re going for a Beef Flank, Roast Duck or a simple Wan Tan Soup – all you’ll pay is £4.30. And this is eat-in price, along Nelson Road, one of the priciest bits of real estate in Greenwich. Side orders are a whopping £3.30.

I had a quick look around the other diners to see what they were getting for their cash – and it looked – well – pretty good really. Big platefuls, and accompanying big smiles.

I didn’t dare try the halibut – I’m sure it’s fine but I’ve seen the prices in the Fishmonger for fresh stuff and it bothered me that this was so cheap in comparison. So I settled for a King Prawn Chow Mein. The Phantom Companion Du Jour chose the all-in Vietnamese Fried Rice.

Now. I’m not going to claim this as a gourmet spectacular. But just across the road, at Noodle Time, I was once unable to finish one of the worst meals of my life, and round the corner at Tai Won Mein I virtually couldn’t start the hideous mess I was served up after a very long wait and indifferent service. And both cost more than this, despite being classed as bargain-basement cheap-fills.

Our food arrived swiftly, was served pleasantly and appeared to have been made from decent-quality ingredients. My Chow Mein was well-flavoured and, if a little oily, I couldn’t complain about the number of good-sized, succulent prawns in it. The Phantom Companion’s fried rice came with lots of different meaty bits and bobs – and, although I noticed some experimentation with chilli dip and soy sauce, it was declared tasty and the plate was cleared.

If we’d stuck to soft drinks, our entire meal would have cost us exactly eleven quid. As it was, some Vietnamese beer ‘accidentally’ got ordered and pushed our total to a dizzying £12.60.

This is not the place to take someone for a 25th wedding anniversary meal – unless you don’t want to see your 26th. But as a cheapo place to fill up for under a fiver, (and I mean fill up – I felt rather uncomfortable after I’d stuffed away mine) I heartily recommend this over pretty much any similar joint in Greenwich. Certainly the aforementioned Noodle Time and Tai Won Mein, which vie for the dubious honour of ‘worst restaurant in Greenwich’ in my book (now that the execrable Alamo has rightly gone the way of all undercooked flesh.)

Saigon is fresh, bright and clean (even the loos are spotless,) the service is swift and charming – and it won’t break the bank. If I was into cliche, this is the point where I’d say “what’s not to like?” But I’m not, so I’ll just say ‘run it up the flagpole, suck it and see. It’s a no-brainer…’

Rebecca has just confirmed JohnSE’s note that Beehive will be closing at the end of the month. Apparently it just wasn’t really worth it to just serve coffee – and I guess there was no room to serve anything else.

There’s a small silver lining to the cloud this brings to anyone who’s ever enjoyed a cup of the best coffee in Greenwich. They will continue to sell their coffee at the Nevada Street Deli – and, I understand, will honour the loyalty card system too.

It’s good-ish, I guess, but I liked having them both. I had always cherished dreams of Beehive moving into that shrine to 60s Mod culture, the Coffee Cellar in Turnpin Lane, (which always used to be the best coffee in Greenwich until it died last year…)

Maybe when things calm down financially….

This one has really crept up on me.

I confess I was a bit ho-hum about the whole thing when this place first arrived. Another ‘deli,’ another cafe. And I was still smarting at the demise of the old junk shop which I used to love. To be honest I didn’t bother going in at all.

But after a sudden caffeine craving whilst walking in the park when I just rushed to the first place that would sell me a coffee, in the past few weeks I’ve found myself going in more and more. The first time was, of course, just that sad dash for coffee – but the service was so very friendly and the coffee really not bad (not quite up to Beehive standards, but still good) that I found myself going in more often.

It’s fresh and clean-looking, with cream walls and scrubbed wooden tables. There’s a good selection of chilled deli stuff (at first I thought it was one of those ‘delis’ that are really just cafes and hardly have any goods in them, but it’s deceptive) meats and pies (with really good pastry) salads and pates. They sell bread by the loaf, half-loaf or quarter (though you’d get a lot of crust if you just bought a quarter) and there are a few token dry goods – not a great selection, but I’d guess they’re short of space.

I’ve eaten in there several times now. The food is always really tasty, there’s lots of it and it’s served with a friendliness that’s very becoming. And there are always lots of newspapers around so I have something to read.

The website’s not much cop, but at least has contact details (if not opening hours.) The Phantom is happy to eat Humble Pie in this instance and say that this place is rapidly becoming a Favourite Haunt.

Margaret says:

“Was shocked and taken aback to find the new Coffee/bread shop, Rhodes, in Greenwich town centre charging an extra 70p to put a slither of butter – which was actually soft margarine – on my 80p scone. On complaining about this,assistant said couldn’t do anything about it, down to the owner!! Told them not a very clever thing to do,especially local residents!! Has anyone else had any bad experiences there??”

The Phantom replies:

I think they’re still playing with their prices. When I went in there in the first couple of days, I had a pleasant chat with the American guy who seems to be in charge of the actual shop, and he asked me what I thought of the ‘then’ prices, saying that they didn’t really know what to charge – I guess because there isn’t a comparable outlet in the area – an actual shop rather than a stall, artisanal baked goods and a small sit-down area, though I was mildly surprised they hadn’t visited other similar places in the capital to check out their prices, which, I’m guessing they have done now.

The thing is, is that this IS a tourist area, and the CAN get that sort of money for a scone and butter (are you sure it was marg?) when people are expecting to pay for a day out. I also suspect that the shop is not a cheap place to rent and the good old fashioned ‘overheads’ are kicking in. It’s probably not just representing the price of the spread, but also the fact that you’ll be sitting down’ to consume it. I’m not sure if there are different tax prices if a scone stops being a ‘raw material’ and becomes in the government’s eyes ‘a sit down meal.’ Maybe someone can enlighten me?

BUT. In the winter months especially, when the tourists aren’t forthcoming and they rely on us locals, especially with the looming recession, 70p for a scrape of butter does seem a bit excessive, even if you’re paying realistic wages to your staff (you are paying realistic wages to your staff, guys, now, aren’t you..?)

Here’s a thought, Rhodes guys. Why not do a residents’ discount – I don’t know – free butter on your bun or something – easy enough created by talking to the GreenwichCard department at the Council. Giving us locals a discount will create a hell of a lot more goodwill than it will cost you in butter, and it will keep us coming through thick and thin.

Or maybe a loyalty card? I have about four of them for Beehive, as I keep forgetting to bring them with me, but I’m determined that one day I’ll bring them all together and get myself a free flat white.

I still love Rhodes. I’m not quite so fond of their brownies as their other stuff – mine was really rather dry and sugary but those raspberry custard tarts, the giant meringues and, yes – those scones – are fab. IMHO it’s a massive contribution to Greenwich Town centre, and not just because it’s a proper bakery where we only had Greggs before. It sends out a signal to other high quality shops that don’t exclusively pander to the tourist trade that Greenwich is ready for nice food, friendly service and attractive surroundings. I’m a regular, so I’d most definitely appreciate a loyalty card system/Greenwichcard Discount/ both.

So what do you think? Is Rhodes losing it’s shine, or do we need to be a little indulgent of a new, high quality business?

Continuing in my not-really-in-Greenwich-but well-worth-a try series, Fat Boy’s Diner could actually be in the American Mid-West, the amount of trouble it takes to get to, despite the fact that it’s only a couple of hundred metres from The O2 as the crow flies. As the Phantom trudges, it’s a good three-quarters of an hour, but the kitsch-value alone makes the trip worthwhile.

I’ve been wanting to visit the Deptford Project train carriage cafe for ages, but I’d been a bit worried that Time Out raving about it would mean it was choc-a-bloc and it would be hard to get in. Still, sometimes you just have to join the crowd and eventually I could resist no longer.

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Deptford is so trendy these days – but it does surprise me every time. There’s a vibe there that was once of the variety that could only be smelt in Hoxton and Shoreditch, (and, a very long time ago, in Covent Garden and the South Bank) but now – now, it would seem that South East London’s getting its turn. You can read all about it in the splendid Deptford Dame though I confess I deliberately didn’t read her review before I trotted along to the the caff, so I that could get my own impressions.

Often when people like Time Out rave about somewhere, by the time I get to it, it’s gone downhill, but if this is true about Deptford Project it must have been wondrous indeed. I have rarely visited a cafe where the whole experience was as fun as this.

I’m glad I wasn’t behind the convoy that brought the 35 tonne carriage to its final resting place on Deptford High Street – it apparently did 2 miles per hour all the way down from Essex – though if you’d like to enjoy the trip for yourself you can see a video of it on their website.

But with a lick of white paint and some colourful decor, it’s now bright and shiny, with a raised palm-fringed decking area outside (complete with stripy deckchairs if you’re brave) and a simple long-line trestle inside, stools painted with sweet messages and lamps that look like they’re made from neon licorice bootlaces.

The people who run the caff are far too young to remember the 80s in any great detail – but it really does feel inspired by that era to me. They even play 70s and 80s reggae / pop classics – I can’t think of anything more suitable.

The food, too, has an ‘alternative 80s’ feel to me – fresh, chunky salads that remind me of the old Cranks days, and giant cakes which actually taste as good as they look (I’m often disappointed by cakes in cafes – they look great but taste like cardboard. These are fab.) The sandwiches are of the doorstep variety and the hot food simple and filling. Absolutely no complaints there.

But what I liked best was the atmosphere. Somewhere like this could be horribly arch – and exclusive – catering for the Goldsmiths crowd and people in pointy shoes and vintage jackets, making anyone else feel a bit out of place. But there’s nothing hipper-than-thou about the welcome that we – and everyone else who came in while I was there – received. Wide smiles, solicitous service and general cheeriness from people I’m happy to believe actually want to be there.

Don’t miss the Elvis loo. A converted garden shed, wallpapered with black and white shots of The King, fetish shoes and people dressed up as the man himself, studded with unlikely conspiracy-theory newspaper cuttings and highlit with The Elvis Mirror.

Yes, you, too, can be Elvis, just for a second, if you shut one eye, and stare into the mirror. If you’re visiting the loo with a friend and you have a camera (and let’s face it, if you’re in there with a friend, it’s entirely possibly you’ve taken a camera with you…) said pal can take a photo of you and send it to an online gallery. Sadly I was in there alone.

This place lives up to its hype. I thoroughly recommend it and will be back as soon as I can. Oh – and it’s worth taking the wheelchair ramp route to the place, and keeping your eyes open. As with so many places trendifiying at a rate of knots, there’s art everywhere…