Foxcroft and Ginger

In the past week I may have spent more time on the couch at Foxcroft and Ginger than at home. It’s just  that sort of place. 

You’ll find it smack in the middle of Soho, buffeted by the markets on Berwick street and skirted by streets speckled with sex shops.

From the outside Foxcroft and Ginger is all clean minimalism. The glass panes at the front are large, and in the morning, sunlight streams through warming the seats at the window side bar. 

Upstairs at Foxcroft and Ginger is pure civility. It’s where the coffee machine whistles and hums, churning out artful cappuccinos (sometimes with checkerboard chocolate toppings) and sprightly flat whites in dainty vintage tea cups. The coffee is Monmouth. The milk is organic. The baristas have serious game.

Beyond the lads hard at work at the counter are some couches and tables. This where you want to be to ensure maximum space for paper flicking and finger licking.

You see, it’s hard not to get your hands into food when it’s this good. At Foxcroft and Ginger anything that involves a combination of protein and carbohydrate (which are baked downstairs) is golden.

Their ham and cheese triple decker french toast sandwich is a work of sheer genius. It’s layers of egg sodden and crisped bread are bound with bechamel. The ham is cut satisfyingly thick. The whole thing is slicked with a sticky honey mustard drizzle. It comes on a brave little wooden board, with a sprinkle of sea salt and ground pepper in the corner.

It’s the most perfect hangover breakfast I’ve ever found. In fact, I’m  tempted to drink a tithe too much before I visit again, so I can appreciate it best, while I’m at my worst.

On our first visit The Hungry One was easily tempted by the fat english muffins stuffed with eggs Benedict, the scrambled eggs holding together admirably under the cover of the bun.

The Hungry One also made his way through a sandwich of Toulouse sausage with onion jam. And a cheekily dense brownie that’s hiding in the corner of the frame (he gets his name for a reason).

Other times I’ve visited I’ve found my bearings in the world again with a slice of their banana bread. It’s lightly spiced and breaks easily. Morning tea problems, answered.

If upstairs at Foxcroft and Ginger is brimming with adult restraint, downstairs is a bit more like a teenagers’ den. It’s a mottle of couches, cushions  and there’s even a pommel horse doubling as a bench.

Midweek, it’s the kind of place where media and arts types sit with their laptops or hold mid career strategy sessions (one Wednesday the hours between 11 am and 4pm somehow evaporated in a crunch of the space/time continuum). It’s a collaborative space where tables and powerpoints are generously shared as everyone enjoys the wifi, magazines and relief from London’s elements.

On the weekend, downstairs feels a little more like a crash pad. There are newspapers everywhere. The music shimmies from hip hop to some more cheesy nostalgic licks of The Police. It’s hard to spy  anyone over the age of 30.

One Saturday we took refuge there to fill the tundra of time between a cinema session and a dinner reservation. We were lucky to grab a seat- just as we make our way down stairs, past the street art styled wall another couple stand up and leave.

Like everyone else, we made ourselves at home and started to plough through the papers.  Except this is better than home. Here I get a pot of Earl Grey and milk brought to me- and taken away and washed up when it’s done. Now that Foxcroft and Ginger has it’s liquor license, The Hungry One can sit happily and nurse an Anchor Steam lager.

Later, there’s a glass of pink wine brought downstairs in elegant stem ware and a plate of freshly shaved jamon with green olives, caper berries, house baked rosemary foccacia, balsamic and olive oil.

Sure the music can be a little loud on a Saturday afternoon and if you sit next to the red pipes, every time someone flushes the toilet you will hear the water trickle. But this place has got coffee to croon over, a sound little wine list; and for the last couple of weeks, it’s been our favourite hang out.

It feels almost wrong to be sharing it.

Please take it as a mark of how much I like you that I did.

Foxcroft and Ginger

(020) 7287 5890

3 Berwick Street, Soho
London, W1F 0
Tube: Leicester Square or Tottenham Court Road

Foxcroft and Ginger on Urbanspoon

  1. "In fact, I'm tempted to drink a tithe too much before I visit again"

    Words of wisdom, I second.

  2. What a wonderful little find you have there! 😀

  3. Love these little places in London!

  4. Isn't it great?! I love all these tiny places popping up in London!

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