Oh Beehive!

Beehive Cafe

Ex-Flying Duck, Creek Road

I have been trying to get to this place since Angie told me it was going to open - in my keen-ness I managed to go before it was actually operative. I had a lovely chat with the people who have moved into Flying Duck's old gaff - four of them in all, all ex-market people - two lots of vintage clothes, a record guy and the coffee man. All delighted to have their own premises at last (the biggest comment was 'out of the cold - at last') even if they have to share it to be able to afford the rent. But we owe the Flying Duck people a big vote of thanks in that they may have gone themselves, but they absolutely refused to allow any chains to come in in their place and happily allowed independents to split the rent.

Then Real Life got in the way. I got emails by the crate-load - M&R, Darren, Jen, Angie, Katja - to name just the ones I can remember - telling me how good this coffee is, but only actually managed to get there yesterday.

And now I know what the fuss is about. This coffee is fabulous, folks. A worthy contender for the now-open crown (since the tragic demise of the Coffee Cellar) of "Best Coffee In Greenwich." Rich and satisfying, yet mellow and un-bitter at the same time, it's the owner's own blend, roasted by his own fair hand at his roastery in Charlton (you can still buy it at his stall on Stockwell St Market at weekends.)

The guy's Antipodean (I can't tell from his accent whether he's Aussie or a New Zealander - I'm sure someone will put me right) and they take their coffee very seriously Down Under. It truly is exceptional coffee - and for homesick antipodeans everywhere, yes, they do Flat Whites, and served with that all-important smile on their faces. It truly made me wonder at the queue outside the deeply inferior Starbucks that I had to pass to get to Beehive.

In fact my only complaint is the size of the place. It's minute. There's a couple of chairs around but apart from that you can really only get takeaway - nice enough on a day like this but less fun on a rainy Monday. Three of us trooped in and it was overcrowded. He needs a bigger place and quick.

But I have a cunning plan, and it goes like this.

We all visit this great new cafe, buy lots of coffee and then persuade the owners (someone told me it was Joy, but it could be Greenwich Hospital Trust) of the now-vacated Coffee Cellar to give the Beehive guy a good rent. We then persuade him to keep the groovy 60s theme and we'll once again have fantastic coffee in cool retro surroundings. Voila!

If you want to order hand roasted coffee - either for mail order or to pick up at the market stall, visit http://www.londoncoffeeroasters.co.uk/

Foster's Cafe

10, Old Dover Road, SE3

Sodding Blogger is playing up again this morning, refusing to let me load photos, so I thought I'd fall back on a little cafe at the Blackheath Standard that I'm rather fond of.

Despite its name, Fosters is run by an Italian family (or at least it always has Italian staff when I'm in there and there are a selection of touristy plates on the wall with relief pictures of the Tower of Pisa. The Phantom is nothing if not observant...) It's not as funkliy retro as Gambardella round the corner - the walls are plain white with the woodwork picked out in a strange dusky-puce; the tables and chairs are in that varnished pine that was popular in the 70s and 80s, but I like it just as well as the last-decorated-in-the-50s Gambardella.

The guy who runs Fosters has a bit of the retro about him himself, kitted out in a little cotton cover-all dust jacket and, since the smoking ban, often to be seen taking a sneaky break outside, chatting to passers-by. He disapproves of my coffee choice. The ritual goes like this: I ask for an Americano; he purses his lips and looks at me with all the disgust he can muster at this abomination of the Italian language. He asks if I'm sure I really want it "weak and black." I say yes. He shuffles off with a pitying look for such a feeble Phantom.

It's worth the discussion though. It's good coffee, done with a proper espresso machine. The range of food is very definitely 'caff' - and it's usually very munchable. I am a bit of a fan of their 85p toasted teacakes, but the cooked stuff's good too. They also have a small range of Italian deli-type stuff - amaretto biscuits, pasta, the odd tin of anchovies etc for purchase as you leave.

Between this one and Gambardella? Not much in it. Depends on how much you like 1950s vintage decor, I guess...

Coffee Cellar's Demise?

Anne has pointed out something worrying about the Coffee Cellar:

"I went past today and its no longer there - theres plastic sheeting in the windows and it seems my favourite little piece of Greenwich has gone! Its been shut for the last 2 weeks - the weekend before that the guy who runs it was telling me he was going to have to go into hospital and I'm a bit worried and thought you might know!"

The Phantom replies:

To my great shame, I've hardly been around for the past few weeks and I've clearly been taking my eye off the ball. Rumours have been abounding about the poor guy's health for some time. I had hoped he was getting better. I'm sorry to hear this. Perhaps he's finally retired. I will miss the place.

I guess it's possible it's just being spruced up - but in a way that would sadden me even more. What I love about this place is its shabby, atmospheric 1960s/70s interior, with that fantastic orange mosaic cubby hole at the back and the hip, funky gloom the place exudes. It's a place to cocoon yourself, on a rainy day, when your boyfriend's gone off with your best mate and the dancette's at the mender's. A place to pore over Lambretta maintance manuals with the lads or giggle with your girlfriends about Twiggy's new haircut.

To lose that atmosphere would be to lose something fundamental about the very coffee itself, let alone the cafe. After all, we can buy coffee anywhere (though decent coffee is somewhat harder to find.) What I really love is finding somewhere that gives me that extra something - that je ne sais quoi that feeds the soul as well as the body. If the Coffee Cellar's gone, it will be a sad day indeed.

The Blackheath Tea Hut

Or, The Phantom Jumps Down Off The Fence...

I've been meaning to write about the most controversial greasy spoon in Greenwich (well, ok, on the border) for some time, but the catalyst has definitely been Alexandra Moskalenko's documentary Tea Time, which has just come out on DVD and which will enjoy a screening at the Picturehouse on Feb 3rd.

It's a charming little docco - made by Moskalenko over four years, but actually covering the life of the hut during the span of one. What makes it such a fascinating subject is that it's open 24 hours a day, on the most windswept part of the heath, and yet it still attracts customers on a year-round, day-round basis.

And what customers. From the police and emergency services, cabbies and truckers, through bikers and carny-folk, all the way to families and tourists, this place has a little micro-community of its own. It attracts loners and insomniacs, drifters and misfits, businessmen and sharp-suits. All of whom muddle along together in that small, timeless world that a tea break provides from whatever else is going on in one's life. The film, perhaps wisely, concentrates on the human element of this South London institution, with interviews and long-shots, portraits and closeups, rather than giving us a history lesson. The music, especially, reflects this - from eerie out-of-tune pub-piano to the Ian Dury-esque At The 'Ut (you get a nice cup 'a tea...)

Perhaps it is the oddball, edgy quality of the folk who visit this funny little stall that makes 'ordinary' people like The Blackheath Society so angry about its existence. Their almost-disproportionate misgivings range from its being an eyesore, a blot on the community and a litter-magnet to being rowdy and environmentally damaging. A pick & mix shopping cart of complaints which perhaps conceal the real problem they have with such a place - that it's not 'within' Society - that it has an 'outsider' quality that can never quite be contained. A quality that lingers from the dangerous days of the Greenwich Fair, of Jack Cade's Cavern, of tumbling, and still hovers, like a slightly bad smell, whenever the circus comes to town.

What I like about this documentary is that it doesn't shy from these difficult topics. It represents the extraordinary lives of ordinary people - each has a story to tell, not least that of Nick, a regular, who, by sheer dint of personality, manages to become the central character. A damaged, almost lost soul, Nick manages to find a little stability in his world whenever he makes it up to the hut, and despite his tough appearance and sarf-London accent, slowly reveals himself to be a pussycat - an adorable figure who relies on the camaraderie of the motley characters at the tea shack to get him through a life that has seen much pain.

And that's true of all the regulars interviewed. They nearly all look menacing on the outside - some might even say hard - it's even implied that there indeed are one or two villains among them - but scratch the surface and they are charming - and articulate, too, in their own individual ways. Moskalenko has taken the time and effort to find the stories here, to imply, not lay-on thick, the personal worlds this funny little place provides a haven for.

Oddly, the hut itself is less of a character than I expected. Whether in the height of summer or under a sprinkling of snow, it's merely a meeting place for unlikely people to get together. Perhaps this is because the building itself is of a temporary nature - temporary to fit the transitory nature of the people who use it.

What impressed me most was the inclusion of Neil Rhind, of whom I am normally a HUGE fan. I adore his meticulous work, his devotion to Blackheath and its history, his detailed writing, his eloquent speaking. As the president of the Blackheath Society, he agreed to be interviewed for this film. Now this is an intelligent man. He must have known that whatever he said would make him look like a NIMBY - and he did it anyway. I admire him all the more for having the guts to do it.

That's not that I agree with him. I hear his arguments - he is big enough (and has the integrity as a historian) to admit that there has been a tea-servery (albeit not 24hrs) on the site since the reign of Charles II (indeed Moskaleko interviews an octogenarian who remembers drinking tea there in his youth) but complains that it looks appalling, creates a traffic and noise problem and is environmentally unsound. The Blackheath Society proposes, I understand from the people in this film, to spend £2m on 'improving' Blackheath - including a giant ridge of earth to disguise the A2, which would engulf the tea hut. Perhaps it's even true.

You know, I struggle to see what harm there is in this little shack. In recent years the owner's made an effort to tidy it up and pick up his litter - you'll find far more elsewhere on the heath. It's miles away from anywhere, it doesn't serve alcohol, and even the police in the film admit there's virtually no trouble. I've enjoyed a fair few cups there myself. Tuesday nights are a good time, when an entire youth club from Rochester make a pilgrimage to the shack. I haven't ever heard of any trouble from them. And I never leave without a chat with someone.

I find it quite telling that the two sides have never actually met in this dispute. And that Neil Rhind has been the only person brave enough to raise his head above the parapet. At a recent licensing hearing no other bugger turned up, so the licence went through, according to the owner. The BS gets almost apoplectic over this strange little half-world, and yet they don't actually appear to have really looked at it.

It seems to me that both sides need to move on now; to actually meet. The Blackheath Society has cash to spend, but the heath belongs to all, and that includes the people who use the hut. Surely there must be some way they can live together? Maybe the society could fork out some money to make the hut more attractive, rather than obliterating it? In return, the owners of the hut can make sure that the litter is always cleared up and that people park tidily.

One final thought, not totally disconnected. If there was to be a giant earthen ridge to shield the eye from the A2, would the Highways Agency see this as a good excuse to make it a dual carriageway? Just an idle ponder.

See Tea Time for yourself. You can buy it on DVD at the Pepys Visitor Centre (the best place I know for local history books) or, if you buy it at the 'ut itself, you get a free nice cup 'a tea with it...

Oh - and if you want a biscuit to go with it, try http://www.nicecupofteaandasitdown.com/

Hand Made Foods (Upstairs)

Tranquil Vale, SE3

We all know how good Hand Made Foods fare is - excruciatingly expensive, of course, but utterly wonderful. That pastry, those tarts, those pies, those salads - every single dish is fabulous - and frankly, for quality this high, I'm happy to push the boat out from time to time.

Only one real problem. Where to sit whilst eating it. The shop is tiny and most of the interior was taken up with - well - food, and the odd bar-place. Outside, the little wooden tables are a wonderful way to while away a lazy half-hour but try getting one. Short of hovering over some poor sod who may or may not be finishing and then fighting off three other would-be munchers with elbows and carrier bags - so uncivilised - only the takeaway option remained.

But what's the alternative? Expansion? Trouble is, that virtually every expansion I've ever witnessed has seen a corresponding contraction in quality. (Has anyone else been to Maison Bertaux since it expanded? Twice the price and half the atmosphere.) First it's next door, then it's a small chain, next thing you know it's become a 'brand' and private equity funds are sniffing around (Cue Patisserie Valerie, since we're sort-of in Soho for this paragraph...) Somehow I feel more abandoned by small, cute companies that have expanded to the point of being stock exchange fodder than the big multinationals that never pretended to be anything else.

Hand Made Foods, happily still a long way from being buyout-ammo, has found a half-way house - albeit only a temporary one. They've expanded upstairs. And it's charming. What was clearly the original shopkeeper's old front parlour, complete with fireplace and homely feel has been simply painted, given a couple of funky pictures and a few old wooden kitchen tables and mis-matched chairs and opened as an upstairs eating area. The pics are good - I like the circular one above the mantel, though I confess I was sorely tempted to colour-in the oneimmediately above my place - it's exactly like a giant version of those 'painting by numbers' kits you get as a kid.

It's still a bit of a bunfight to get a seat, but not as bad as it was. I couldn't decide (as usual) so contrived to eat various pies and pastries vicariously through the people I was with ("Oooh - that one looks amazing, doesn't it, George...") and although I was actually brought the wrong item (something I didn't realise until I bit into it) it was so good I didn't complain - I'll just have to have what I originally ordered next time...

The problem is already beginning to resurface though. Even six months after they first opened upstairs, you already have to check there's somewhere to sit before you make any choices. I just hope they have a third floor.

But the food is as incredible as ever. As one of my companions remarked "It's the sort of food you'd make yourself if you had the time. And the ingredients. And the energy. And the skill..."

La Fleur

Royal Hill, SE10

I have often walked down this street before

But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before...

What a delight. I have been meaning to try La Fleur properly for ages - it just looked so lovely from the outside. But I always seemed to have just had a cup of tea (funny that - must be the proxmity of Royal Teas and Buenos Aires) and the most I have got around to was buying plants.

Walking past a few days ago, though, I just couldn't resist the Christmas display (all white branches and clear sparkles against the pale sagey-green of the paintwork, with wonderful winter flowers - cyclamen, narcissus, holly and ivy) and just had to go in. I'm sure there are more tables and chairs in there since the last time I was there - I could have sworn there were only a couple of tables before. There are now at least four - though of course the tiny space itself hasn't increased, and the jungle of ferns, palms and even a baby olive tree, its grey-silver leaves looking fabulous against the tasteful cream walls. Also looking great are the 'gardening tools' and coloured wellies hung as decoration in the few gaps left by the greenery.

The tables are suitably rustic - French style, which considering the French voices at the till while I was there (aha - those Holmesian deduction skills again) is hardly surprising. The service is incredibly friendly. I was hardly ordering a feast - a coffee and a tea - but the attention to detail to getting my order exactly to my taste was impressive. It's amazing how much difference really good service makes - I just knew I was going to enjoy it when it arrived.

They do simple snacks too, and I fancied a cake, even though I knew I shouldn't have one. My willpower is low at the best of times but even I was able to resist that day. Why? Because I can't resist cakes if I see them, but I can resist description. They didn't have sweeties on display so I had to ask about them. By the time they'd told me what cakes they had, I had regrouped and was able to say "no thank you I don't really feel like it." Almost convincingly. A bunch of antique glass cake stands on the dresser filled with exquisite dainties and covered with cloches would have made a sale out of me without a sweat.

But hey. I love this place and the experience, just with the beverages, was great.

I wanted to test the loos (as I always do) and was directed into the most beautiful, minute, private back yard imaginable. In it were a few more tables, nestling among yet more fernery - utterly delightful (though far too cold and wet at the moment, natch...) The loo (once I found it amongst all that greenery) was splendid - clean and bright.

They're doing some rather charming Christmas decorations at the moment, which glitter and glimmer darkly in the shop, sparklies mixing with berries - very tasteful. And as for that dresser - there may not be any cakes on glass stands but they do have boxes of posh chocolates in holly-print boxes - very pretty.

The Phantom says check it out - possibly my fave place for afternoon tea - so far. I t could even become a Phantom favourite Haunt...

Peter de Wits Breakfast/Lunch

Something that always puzzles me about Sundays in Greenwich is that while the market and surrounding shops, the park and - well - practically everywhere else in the town is heaving, Peter de Wits is nearly always virtually empty whenever I walk in for brunch.

Maybe the tourists just walk past - it's small and perhaps unexciting-looking from the front and perhaps the (very slightly - we're not talking Las Vegas here) flashier-from-the-front-but-a-bad-idea-once-you-get-inside sandwich shop next door looks more inviting. PdW's, after all, has plain white walls and simple-looking tables where the sandwich shop has cakes in the window (don't bother trying them - they promise an AWFUL lot more than they deliver) but this is one case where looks alone are deceiving.

I have always had a soft spot for Peter de Wits anyway. Any cafe that's only got about eight tables that still manages to present live jazz two nights a week (and not just local music students - proper names) deserves a bit of respect. But I actually enjoy their food. It's a simple menu, that doesn't try to overstep the size of the kitchen - on Sunday I had a slice of the special quiche - all home-made and very enjoyable and the very fact that the tourists seem to pass the place by often means I can take my paper in there and enjoy a cup of coffee and a simple lunch virtually undisturbed. The staff are always friendly (as opposed to next door) and the prices, though not bog-low, are fair.

It's particularly lovely in the summer, when they open up the back and there are a couple of ancient tables surrounded by pots of whippy greenery next to the loos (much nicer than it sounds.) I am always slightly surprised when I can get a seat out there as it's such a sweet little secret corner in the very centre of town, but I've never been disappointed yet. Just the place to dissect a Sunday paper and its never-ending supplements...

Peter deWits has undecipherable opening hours. I often try to go there and it's shut. I have to make do with the Organic Cafe opposite which is nice enough, and reliable, but not as fun as PdW (try reading the paper next to the loos there you won't be popular - there's often a queue and it's next door to the kiddies' play area...) You just have to accept that PdW's seems to open on a whim and enjoy it when you strike lucky...

Pavilion Tea House

Greenwich Park

There is always something a bit "corporate" about tea houses in parks - whether council-run or, as in this case, by Royal Parks. And within that format you're never really going to get anything truly cosy and unique, but within its limited remit, The Pavilion Tea House up by the Observatory does pretty well.

It helps that it's not only got a great situation - right at the top of the hill, within designated grounds of its own which can afford fantastic views from between the gaps in pretty, leafy shrubbery, but also a sweet, traditional building that feels very 'park-like.' I can't find out how old it is, but I'm guessing the early years of the 20th Century or maybe 1920s (does anyone know?) It's very pretty and inviting.

Inside it's bright and light and clean, and having been made 'accessible' has nice wide aisles easy to manoeuvre around on all but the busiest days. There aren't that many seats inside - presumably they're working on most people only going to the park on good days; I suppose with a historic building they don't have much of an option anyway. The service is friendly.

They make an effort in sourcing the food they sell - fair trade and organic where possible (it gets double points for serving the fabulous Union Coffee Roasters coffee.)I've not tried the premises-cooked food, which I guess I should, as its clearly where all the effort goes in. The menus seem interesting - maybe someone here can comment upon it; I have only ever had the tea/coffee and buns.

There's ye olde tea-bag-in-a-mug problem, of which I disapprove - how hard is it to supply a few teapots - and on my most recent visit, there was only one kind of milk at the serve-yourself milk and sugar table. The buns are bog-standard - chocolate fudge/scones/rock cakes and the usual Burts crisps. Nothing to complain about, nothing to get excited about, but a general all-round ok option in the middle of the park.

It's recently been re-landscaped and it's got a much bigger garden now, surrounded by chestnut trees, yew hedges and big tubs of splendidly blousy blooms. The tables are solid and come with big parasols (handy, given the weather we have just now) and plenty of opportunistic birdlife.


They advertise Weddings and functions there - anyone been to one? It feels a bit 'public' to me, even cordonned off, but you can't knock the views...

If you're really after individual, make your way down to Royal Teas or Buenos Aires, but if you're already in the park and want to enjoy a reasonable cup of tea and a bun in a pretty garden, then the Pavilion Tea House is really rather nice...

Coffee Cellar

Turnpin Lane, SE10

"The best coffee in Greenwich"

That's quite a boast, given the sheer number of cafes - both in the town centre and the surrounding streets, but it's boldly stated outside this tiny little bolthole in one of Greenwich's most curious alleyways. It's a challenge that at least doesn't go unnoticed.

The weird thing is that in many ways I hadn't really noticed, until relatively recently, the cleverly titled Coffee Cellar, next door to JOY's back entrance (oooh-err, missus),despite the fact that it must have been here for years. Either this curious place used to be something else back in the swinging sixties (from the decor I'd say that was the date of its last refit) or that's as long as its owner has been lurking in the darkness here.

Turnpin Alley is narrow and gloomy, brightened only by its funky little shops - Red Door, Daisy Cakes Bake etc. - and it isn't a natural first choice to sit at the tiny little tables outside, craning to find the last remaining rays of sun. Besides, what makes this place so interesting is its unreconstituted 1960s (early 70s, perhaps?) interior.

Upstairs, the minute shop is painted in muted buff, peppered with stools and a little bar against the banister of the staircase leading down to a lounge-area, also small, and pleasingly scruffy, with low chairs and tables, to be peeked at through a circular window. In itself nothing particularly special.

What really makes this place cool is the tiny little hutch right at the back, from which the coffee is dispensed. The serving hatch to it is also circular but, in suitably psychedelic fashion, the walls behind it are in fabulous mottled-orange mosaic tiles - the closest Greenwich gets to a Mod coffee bar. I'd put money on it's being original, and can almost smell the Vespa oil. A photo of the owner from days gone by gives another clue that I was just unobservant in the past. Service is friendly, and although the guy installed in the kiosk-bit at the back seemed at first taciturn, I got a big smile halfway through my coffee that brought a warm glow to my heart (ahhh...)

What I like about this place is that it has clearly evolved (a very tiny bit) rather than being 'created' like modern "theme bars." A place that had been 'styled' would have, in the niche above the stairs for example, a funky Mod phone or display of 1960s kitsch. What it actually has is a kettle and two equally unremarkable canisters. A theme bar wouldn't include modern metal racks for an odd assortment of organic goods in the window. And yet, somehow it's absolutely ok here. The walls have displays of local artists' work - there's currently some stunning photos of the moon in Greenwich Park and sundry musicians by local photographer Idris de Angeli. I happily passed the time reading from the selection of What's On leaflets which appeared to be quite different from those I've seen in other places. I found a couple of things I'll be checking out later from them.

And the coffee? Well it certainly is very good. The best in Greenwich? I'm not sure. More research needs to be done...

Alacosta Coffee

Trafalgar Road, SE10

As a coffee shop in a location already saturated with cafes, you have to make an effort just to keep up. In just a couple of blocks there must be half a dozen cafes - Point Zero, Channers and The Trafalgar to name just a few - and even with the demise of Shamrock, there are still enough takeaways and pubs in those few metres of Trafalgar Road to dizzy the would-be coffee drinker...

Alacosta isn't instantly visible - it's one of those places I don't always notice. It's the same height as all the other shops, of course, but there's somehow something 'low-lying' about it which slips under the radar. Now I sit here to write I can't remember whether I stepped down into it or not (probably not) but it felt like I did.

This isn't necessarily a bad thing. I like a cafe that's warm and dark and womb-like and there is definitely something cosy about the interior here. The walls are orange-painted panelling and there are, if I remember, smoky, deco-shaped mirrors on the walls. The reason I can't recall too well is because I was instantly drawn by the fact that there was a garden out the back. I ordered by the counter (which was pleasingly piled with cakes, biscuit brands I had never heard of and, in the chiller, interesting sandwich fillings) and toddled straight out back.

What do you do with a back yard the size of a box-room surrounded by other, equally tiny gardens, overlooked by buildings and facing North? Alacosta have done their best. They've clearly recently enclosed the place with new fence panels and (perhaps somewhat hastily) erected decking - probably the best option for this awkward space. There are signs apologising for the uneven steps and the lack of railings around it, which makes me think they're intending to put these things right - and one or two of the chairs do look a little close to the edge.

There are a couple of parasols and some tubs of flowers, and the sight of a few nodding pansies goes some way to softening the hard landscaping which is still that very orange colour of newly-treated fencing. It's spoilt a bit by the plastic flowers also tucked in there, and I don't think that Christmas tree by the back gate will ever manage another season (it has the unfortunate effect of one that was just shoved in the back after the festive season - and would do better planted out somewhere) - what would really make a big difference here would be some tall, graceful bamboo - it would suit this space very well.

But, oh damn, I've done my usual thing of going off on one about the decor without discussing the food. The sandwiches are fine - nothing special, but still with plenty of filling and served with a smile. My tea was also served with a smile, but was a rather weak until I got to the bottom where I found the teabag lurking, so squashed that it hadn't had a chance to brew. Of course they're not alone in doing that. Have none of these places heard of a teapot?

Apart from the teabag thing, Alacosta is really quite a good little caff. The service is very sweet indeed, they've made an effort with the decking out back and the food's not bad at all. Its real problem is that it is virtually opposite The Trafalgar Cafe, whose dishes are much more substantial (real 'meals' as opposed to a quick bite) and whose reputation is justly deserved.

Royal Teas

Royal Hill, SE10

Every so often I get myself a bit confused. There comes a place that is so "obvious" for review that I actually assume that I've already written about it. It comes as a bit of a shock when someone points out that I haven't. I have no idea how Royal Teas slipped through the net, but there you go. I thought I'd already 'covered' it. There are others which will come up and bite me on the backside, I am sure...

It's a Greenwich institution, of course. Royal Teas seems to have been around for ever - must be twenty years at least. It's ostensibly a vegetarian cafe, though there is the odd dish which includes salmon - it's good to see that they're not too evangelical about it. It's a tiny place, which can get a bit full, especially when there are a lot of pushchairs parked in there, and I have found that timing is everything - trying to second-guess busy periods is an skill which can be acquired with practice.

The front room of what was clearly once a cottage has mix & match tables and chairs, shared with a splendid piece of metal furniture with large drawers for various types of coffee bean and tea, which you can either drink on the premises or take home a bag of to enjoy later. I have no idea what the piece of apparatus in the window is - some kind of coffee-making equipment, I presume, but it's rather beautiful in itself and is purely decorative these days.

The back room has more tables and the counter, leading out to the back where they make all those great snacks and meals, and, of course, their famed cakes. The decor has a slightly 'updated hippy' feel - orange and purple, which is both cosy and welcoming.

I'll warn you now. it will be difficult to finish anything you get served here. The portions are satisfyingly huge. I don't know if they do doggy bags; one day I think it will be worth an ask as it is the sort of thing they might encourage. Among their breakfasts (served all day) is a monster American version which is frighteningly large - but so tasty you find yourself eating far more than you intended. The baguettes are shoved full of so much filling that it's most inelegant to try to eat (though I have a minor gripe with one I had the other day in that I had vast amounts of cheese and salad, but the effect was rather dry - I could have had less cheese and replaced it with a little butter to bind it all together.) I've never had the cream tea, but I've watched other people tucking in and I will get round to it one day, judging from the looks on their faces it will be well worth the wait.

The cakes are fabulous. I don't really need to go into too much detail as I'm sure I'm preaching to the converted. My favourite is the lemon, but more research is needed to be absolutely sure.

To anyone who doesn't know, the slightly odd "fairy tale" in the window refers to a long-running dispute with Greenwich Council. After many years of R.T's existence, the council suddenly discovered the place and, at first, heaped praise and help on its owners, offering them grants and all kind of plaudits. It was only later that the council changed its tune. The place didn't have a proper licence, it argued, and the men in grey tried to shut it down. Royal Teas itself is fighting back, aided by devoted local residents (though the most local - the person upstairs, I'm told, moans about the disruption. How does this happen, I wonder? Someone moves in above a cafe, then complains that they live above a cafe? Maybe I've missed something here...)

The dispute with the council rumbles on. In the meanwhile, Royal Teas continues as normal, its friendly, cheery staff coping as best they can with the question mark above their heads. Visit them while you can (though, as a dedicated 'good loo' aficionado I must warn you - don't make a pilgrimage for the restroom facilities - there is a certain charm about it and it's perfectly clean but it's hardly a 'destination loo') and let them know that this is the kind of thing we need to encourage more, not less of, in Greenwich.

http://www.royalteascafe.co.uk/

Cow & Coffee Bean Cafe

Main gate, Greenwich Royal Park

Every park worth its salt needs to have at least one cafe but even if it's a Royal Park, it will never quite escape that corporate, formal, mass-market feel. That given, the management of the Cow & Coffee Bean have really made an effort and as the kind of cafe that is primarily meant to appeal to a wide range of visitors, often with small children, it actually works rather well.

Tucked right inside the Park gates, sheltered by the exterior wall, I assume the building itself was the old gatekeeper's cottage - and a pretty little place it is too. The new-look cafe has kept the cottage neat and tidy - much better than previous incarnations. It has neat railings, which tie-in well with other park furniture and its own fittings are both functional and neutral to the eye.

The design has remembered its primary purpose as a family eaterie, with solid, round tables which will stand being stood on (I know, I know - that's not their primary function but lets face it, who hasn't had their tea spilled when somebody small (or not so small) has stood on the built-in seat of a flimsy picnic table?

Just me, then...)

There are bamboo 'fans' around the walls, with small plants clearly intended to clothe the walls at some point. Coupled with the borrowed view of the park on one side and the strange, square-bayed windows of the backs of those houses on Burney Street whose entrances look like sentry boxes, it has a sophisticated, tasteful feel, despite its being a local civic amenity.

The tables aren't crammed together, so that wheelchairs and prams can get in between them, and the ground is a mixture of gravel and cut paving which actually looks rather good, and won't create ruts in the rain.

Talking of rain, if it's a tad inclement, there is a small interior (only small, mind) which has jolly dark blue gingham tablecloths and more solid country-style furniture.

Inside, the usual rock-cakes, croissants, Danish pastries etc. are laid out on trays in a neat, clean manner and a pleasant young man (a student if ever I saw one) serves tea. Don't expect anything like a teapot - a teabag in a cup is what I got, and though there was supposed to be a selection of Fairtrade teas, I wasn't given a choice. It didn't bother me particularly. The cup cost me £ 1.25, a rock cake, £ 1.75. Neither was either good or bad - each did its job, as fuel for the rest of the park visit.

In my usual chaotic fashion, I can't remember whether the fare offered is organic. I certainly think some of it is but can't vouch for it all. Maybe a regular visitor can enlighten me.

I like this place. It's never going to win any prizes for originality, but within its brief it's pleasant, efficient and friendly, especially family-friendly. I would definitely visit again.

I have one quibble. No bins in the outside eating area. Probably a security thing, I guess, but a slight inconvenience.