Tag Archives: vegetarian

Door & Rivet, Stokes Croft, Bristol

Lodging in Clifton – where the Brunel bridge is a short stroll and the morning alarm comes from the peal of church bells and the occasional hot air balloon passing overhead – is no real hardship. At the weekend the streets are taken over by alfresco cafes and organic grocers and the pavements throng with freshly pressed Hilfiger shirts, boat shoes (no socks) and a menagerie of coiffed poodles, bichons and French bulldogs. The delis do a roaring trade; there’s even a man in a beret and a Breton top who sells garlic from the basket on his bicycle.

Yet it was walking through Stokes Croft where I truly felt back at home. Here the dogs are multitudinous and mongrel and the streets heave with deep bass and dreadlocks in various stages of construction. But while the setting couldn’t be more different, the creep of the ‘DIY Dalston’ mould is equally plain to see, with yet more black-walled, drop-lit, pallet-heavy bars and cafes filling shop fronts and abandoned spaces. Thankfully there are those that resist scrawling sans serif font across their plant-filled windows or hanging a fixed-gear bike on the wall to justify their prices.

One such place is Door & Rivet, hidden in the crypt of the old Baptist Church on Upper York Street. It’s corrugated frontage makes an understated welcome, but the promise of good coffee and Saturday brunch were all it took to lure me in. Inside it’s darkly inviting, with a collection of mismatched tables and chairs at the back and an open kitchen, giant coffee machine and well-used record player up front. The 70s soundtrack proved a little fierce first thing, but the narrow alleyway outside boasted plenty of space to dine, so long as we didn’t mind mingling with the pigeons.

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We lingered over coffees as we waited for our food – here everything is freshly made and demands a little more time. Having opted for the small breakfasts (one veggie, one meat) we were greeted with a great pile of good food – well-seasoned bubble and squeak, homemade baked beans and excellent eggs, alongside delicious sausages or grilled halloumi and a proper portion of sourdough toast. It was all so excellent we decided to stay, ordering more home-roasted coffee to enjoy in the unseasonable September sun, the friendly staff taking the time to chat and explain why decaff coffee is the work of the devil and therefore banished from this, the holiest of breakfast places.

Brunch lovers, rejoice.

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Price: from £2.50 (granola) to £9.50 (Big breakfast).

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Breakfasts from Mexico to Cuba, Belize and Guatemala…

A broken wrist followed by a phone lost down the great well that is a Guatemalan chicken bus makes for a poor attempt at blogging over the past few weeks. So as to save going back through a months’ worth of gluttony and poor personal hygiene in detail, here’s a round up of brunch spots from the Pacific coast of Mexico to the highlands of Guatemala.

San Cristobal, Zipolite, Mexico

Though only a short bus journey down the coast from Escondido, Zipolite felt like a different world altogether. Gone were the long-of-short and short-of-board surfers and Spandex clad Mexican tourists, replaced instead by ageing hippies, sleepy beach dwellers called Socrates and a handful (so to speak) of nudists.

Having checked in to the fabulously wonky Brisas Marinas hostel we ambled down the beach to San Cristobal, a restaurant providing shade and a book exchange for ever-pinking tourists. The menu was a mix of American and Mexican recipes, with hot cakes, fruit salad, huevos al gusto and mollettes all on offer. Fruit juices seemed to come from an entire watermelon shoved into a blender, and there was decent enough coffee (no mean feat here).

Duly sated, it was time to head back to our hammock for a strenuous day of lazing about – a routine we’d repeat for almost an entire week.

Carajillos, San Cristobal, Mexico

A couple of long overnight buses would transport us north, back to the mountains where the air was enticingly cool. San Cristobal is extremely pretty in a tourist-focussed way – one long vein of pedestrianised street runs through the middle, with all manner of ‘traditional’ artisinal crafts on offer.

There’s a pleasant hubbub around the town, with street sellers moving between tourists dressed in sensible shoes and newly-purchased ponchos. Though there are plenty of cool bars and coffee shops around, the poverty in the area is clear. Carajillos is part of this stark contrast, set apart from the main drag in it’s own private courtyard.

Inside the sun streams through the open roof, casting light on the tropical plants, orchids and parasols. The fashionably freelance come for excellent coffee, a modish lunch menu and free WiFi; elsewhere there are photo exhibitions and local paintings on sale.

They are somewhat snobbish about what they do – mottos rebuking sugar-takers can be found on their business cards – but the coffee is unarguably fantastic. Fully caffienated, we went back to join the stream of happy traffic outdoors, with a new resolution to spend our money on more local pursuits.

Carajillo, San Cristobal

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Adele’s Authentic Mexican, Cancun, Mexico

Ah, Cancun. Seasonal playground for the rich and adolescent, filled to the brim with slogan T-shirts (I’M IN CANCUN, BITCH), tequilla deals and poor decisions. Mercifully we’d chosen to stay away from Playa del Carmen and opted for a hostel in the town itself; still busy, loud and incredibly hot, but with a slightly more local feel.

It was here that we found Adele’s, an excellent coffee stop incongruously placed slap bang on a motorway roundabout. Across the road music blared from a garage; two women danced in the midday heat in their pants, brandishing over-sized spanners in an attempt to entice truckers to make that famously impulse purchase, a whole new set of tyres.

Adele’s is no bigger than a wardrobe, with a sparkling coffee machine squeezed in the back. Coffee is taken seriously here (the beans are imported from Chiapas for the best blend) but it’s Adele herself who makes the visit worthwhile. Wonderfully welcoming and a little batty (no real surprise with a constant supply of espresso), she was happy to point our wayward Spanish in the right direction: we shared stories of home, a few photos and contact details before wending our merry way, resisting the strange temptation to buy a complete set of Goodyear’s.

Cafe Bohemia, Havana, Cuba

A short hop across the water from Cancun and we found ourselves in Havana. Busy, loud and passionate, we took a while to settle in to the new pace, eventually relaxing into the constant soundtrack of ancient car horns, offers for taxis, cigars, souvenirs… and, of course, live salsa.

The Old Town is full of crumbling buildings and darkened doorways leading who knows where. What appeared to be an abandoned townhouse would turn out to be a grocers or sometime hairdressers; elsewhere shops would be open with nothing on their shelves. A warren of streets wind together to meet around one of the many plazas, and it was in the most famous one – Plaza Vieja – that we stumbled across Cafe Bohemia.

Huge canopies shelter diners from the light in the blue courtyard, with vines and potted plants creating a Mediterranean feel. The staff are young and fashionable, and they have a menu to match: Illy coffee, continental breakfasts, an entire cocktail menu dedicated to gin (we’d be back for that). The ingredients were good, if the portions a little small; coffee came as a shot of espresso with hot milk and water jugs to make it to your taste. It’s not the cheapest, and is clearly a spot targeted at the comparitively well-off tourist. But with live music flowing in with the breeze, it’s a very pleasant one at that.

Cafe Bohemia

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Carribean Colours Art Cafe, Caye Caulker, Belize

From Cuba we were back to Mexico, moving from Cancun down the coast to Tulum then Chetumal, known best as the departure point to Caye Caulker, an island in the Caribbean Sea off the Belize mainland.

Caye Caulker is reknowned for it’s clear, turquoise waters, excellent snorkelling on the second largest Barrier Reef and a laid-back attitude to just about everything. Still part of the Commonwealth, Belize is largely English speaking, meaning Brits and Americans flock here all year round.

There are a host of cafes, bars and restaurants on Middle Street (one of three main streets on the island, the others being Front, and Back – even this geographically challenged person struggled to get lost). The Art Cafe does what it can to benefit the community, only hiring single mothers from the island; the owner also donates reading glasses to those in need.

The menu here befits the water sports lifestyle – great plates of pancakes, stacked sausage and egg rolls, nourishing salads and a huge coffee menu. Somewhat understimating the portions, I had enough to keep me going for a week, perfect fuel for a day of encountering turtles, sharks, rays and manatees in Caye Caulkers crystal waters.

Slightly over ordered…

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Hostel El Portal, Semuc Champey, Guatemala

Having walked across the border from Belize to Guatemala, we found ourselves inadvertently employing two kids straight out of Central America’s casting for Oliver! to find us a local bus to Lanquin. From here we took a pick-up truck to Semuc Champey, clinging on for dear life while trying to balance a mysterious crate of eggs on the seat beside me. This would be the first of many adventures in Semuc.

Next we signed ourselves up for the tour, a ‘must see’ according to the internet… Within an hour we were in chest-height cold water, gripping a wax candle in one hand as we picked our way through a set of caves in the national park. Adding to the adventure were metal ladders bound together with wet rope that scaled sharp-edged rock with little in the way of head room above, ‘slides’ into pitch black water and, best of all, a hole no wider than 2 foot from which we were encouraged to plunge from an unknown height into water of a mystery depth.

Next we would get in rubber donughts and head down river, comparitively relaxed other than the hoardes of children desperately paddling towards you in the hope of selling cold beer; that, and the need for the Egg Poacher to come and rescue me as my doughnut caught a light slip stream that took me way off course.

The following day was promised to be more relaxed, so we set about our breakfast at a leisurely pace. The menu is short as the kitchen at El Portal is small, but there were perfectly fine plates of pancakes and fresh fruit and OK coffee, too. The view is spectacular, with mist-covered mountains providing the backdrop to the fast-flowimg river I’d become so familiar with the day before.

Heading back to the park we set off on a light hike – to be met with sheer drops of clay-covered rocks, suspicious looking stairways and nests of tree roots lining our way. Once at the top, the view was undeniably spectacular. The route down, however, slippier than the ascent.

Finally at the turquoise pools, a cooling dip was our promised reward. However, first there were algae-covered rocks to step manoeuvre, some exciting ‘challenges’ such as the solid rock slide into deep-ish water, and a cave visit where water reached our noses and there was no more than two inches of space above our heads. Finally free to explore at our own pace, we didn’t stay long – instead heading back for a much needed lie down.

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The Bristolian, Stokes Croft, Bristol

20130217-212421.jpgThe breakfast stars have aligned over Stokes Croft. The Bristolian has been a familiar sight in Picton Street for years, though its once grubby interior has had a spit and polish and it’s come up shining: on a sunny Saturday the pine floors, bright lanterns and fairylights make the place the feel like the inside of one giant toy box. And it’s full of good food.

The Bristolian is the best of what this city represents – all are welcome, from St Andrew’s poi performers to dads on the morning shift, freelance parents with free-range toddlers and last night’s casualties, invited in from the walk of shame and offered a sympathetic ear and a constant supply of coffee. In fact, this place is the perfect hangover cure, with Bloody Mary and her mates making an appearance, as well as an impressive breakfast menu that will suit all appetites.

Top of the list is the Bristolian Fusion, a Mediterranean delight full of deliciously spiced chorizo, salsa and fried potatoes; their full English is a carnivore’s dream with their bacon and sausages declared the best ever by the Egg Poacher – praise indeed.

This microcosm of Montpelier comes with all the extra options you’d expect – vegan and vegetarian, soya milk and super salads; there’s bread for sale from the wonderful Hobbs Bakery, home-baked cakes, proper leaf teas and a full-bodied coffee. Get here early to avoid the rush – by 11 most of the ‘Croft residents are awake and ready to descend on the tightly packed tables. But it’s worth the squeeze – this counts as one of the best breakfasts yet.

Price: From £3.50 (muesli & yoghurt) to £7.95 (Bristol Fusion).

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Café Kino, Stokes Croft, Bristol

At the centre of Stoke’s Croft most bohemian heart is Café Kino, a popular spot for artists, musicians, freelance thinkers and coffee drinkers. Great big windows look out to the street and are prime spots for people watching; as it’s at the junction between St Paul’s, Montpelier and Gloucester Road, there’s a procession of colourful characters and local heroes (Big Issue seller Jeff has brightened many a morning) and some fabulous graffiti that catches the eye and engages the brain.

Kino is vegan so sausage dodgers will be well pleased; there’s a veggie bacon option should you feel your plate is missing something, but even the most vociferous carnivores will find something to enjoy here. My mushrooms on toast were well-oiled with heaps of garlic and parsley, and the full breakfasts being served by friendly staff are stacked with goodness. The A-board advertises ’20 Types of Tea’ so it seemed churlish not to try their loose leaf Earl Grey and a potent Chinese Gunpowder. Coffee is good and made to order (no drought of soya milk here) and their cakes manage to taste utterly wicked, without a drop of dairy to be seen. There’s live music and theatre downstairs, books to borrow and art to buy.  Gather a clan in one of the giant booths and you can settle in for the afternoon.

Price: From £3 (mushrooms on toast) to £6 (full vegetarian breakfast).

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