When we're not getting up as quickly (which, it turns out, is never very quickly) as my body allows on a weekend morning for a quick jog round the park before breakfast and a power-walk over to Columbia road to beat the crowds, we're allowed a slower start, and a faster, shorter run, which ends with an instant reward: brunch at The Pavilion Café. There's nothing that will make me run that last stretch more quickly than knowing that those perfectly cooked eggs are waiting for me. The only thing separating me from me and my brunch is the speed of my legs.
At Christmas there was Chai and Spiced hot apple juice mulling slowly on the counter; the rest of the time there is aptly described 'builders' tea, available for just a £1, colourful, fresh juices standing in line in the fridge, strong, smooth coffee. Loaves of freshly baked bread are piled up on the side, and blackboards all around the inside of the circular dome state what they're cooking. Everything sounds great.
Eggs florentine has become a standard go-to for me (I tend to panic a little when there's a decision to be made and end up playing the safe-game), while B is slowly working his way through the other choices. So far all to be recommended. Cooked perfectly, presented beautifully, and served with a smile.
And even if you don't want anything to eat, sit with a cup of coffee and watch the dogs go by. So many dogs. Such beautiful dogs. The Pavilion Café is like a doggy-catwalk. That should probably called a dogwalk. But maybe not. London seems to have become dog-obsessed in the last year or so, and on weekend mornings they all seem to gather here. Eating eggs, drinking coffee and watching the chic, doggy-world go by - an ideal way to spend a weekend morning.
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