Staying in Shoreditch felt like a decision I’d already made without realizing it. On my visit to London the year previous, I kept gravitating to the neighbourhood. My map was dotted with pins for meals and drinks in the area that aligned more closely to how I like to experience a city. This time, I wanted to be in Shoreditch intentionally.
On this trip I was sharing the city with my mom and moving at a pace that allowed for both discovery and pause. I was drawn to spend time in Shoreditch to experience London through a neighbourhood lens rather than through landmarks.
Since we knew we’d be using transit during the day, changing bases for our final two nights felt right. It gave us the freedom to walk to dinner (and me for drinks) in the evenings and settle into a different rhythm of the city.
After spending 3 nights in Mayfair, we moved hotels. After checking-in, we set out on foot to one of the restaurants that had been high on my must-eat list. Rochelle Canteen is a classic and especially lovely for Sunday brunch. The food is rooted in simple, thoughtful flavours and served in a setting that feels quietly charming without trying too hard. And perhaps fittingly, Rochelle is also my sister’s name; sitting there together, we couldn’t help but wish she were with us, sharing in the experience.
We ordered celeriac soup, smoked trout, asparagus with hollandaise, and a grilled scallop with chili butter. Some of the menu language felt unfamiliar to my mom at first. But as celeriac is essentially celery and trout so similar to salmon, the food itself spoke a language she knew well.
After lunch, we wandered the neighbourhood, pausing in one of the local parks to listen to a band playing in the afternoon light. My mom was especially taken with the big, old trees, imagining how the area must have looked decades ago. These are details I might have rushed past on my own, but came to appreciate through her eyes.
Eventually, she went back to the hotel, while I stayed out longer, taking in more of Shoreditch’s street art before stopping at Seed Library for a quiet, well-timed pick-me-up.
Knowing we’d be in London on a Sunday, my thoughts immediately went to a proper Sunday roast. My mom made roasts when I was growing up, but they were a simpler, everyday version of the English classic.
Looking back now, it still amazes me that she pulled off those Euro-centric dinners at all. She’s immigrated to Canada from Japan in the late 1960’s without speaking english and with only a small circle of “aunties”. But somehow, she learned, adapted and quietly wove these Western meals into our family dinners long before global food culture was as accessible as it is today.
I chose Blacklock Shoreditch for our Sunday dinner because of its reputation for doing British classics well, but comfortably. The room had an energy that felt lively yet relaxed. The beef rump roast was good, but the highlights were definitely the duck-fat crispy roasted potatoes & Yorkshire pudding both smothered in gravy. The best thing was we were just a short walk from our hotel which made the evening feel easy.
I still had energy after dinner and wanting to explore as much of the area’s cocktail scene as possible, I slipped out for one more drink.
Happiness Forgets is a low-lit basement bar that feels like a dive until you taste the cocktails. It was the enabler the right note to end my Sunday.
The next morning, I had fully intended for us to start the day at Borough Market. I’d been dreaming about the sausage roll from Ginger Pig, the same one I’d eaten on my last visit. I also knew the sheer spectacle of the market would delight my mom. Unfortunately, Borough Market is closed on Mondays. It was a rare miss in my otherwise well-planned travel life, but it happens.
We changed plans easily, opting for a coffee and small treat, knowing full well that indulgence was still on the agenda. From there, we walked along the South Bank, crossed Tower Bridge, and continued on toward the City of London, letting the morning unfold at an easy pace.
Afternoon tea was the last English classic I wanted my mom to experience before leaving London. I chose Fortnum & Mason at The Royal Exchange which is set inside a grand former banking hall in the heart of the City. The atmosphere grandiose and elegant without being stiff. The setting made the ritual feel special without tipping into formality. As a bonus, having tea there gave us the perfect excuse to stock up on Fortnum & Mason treats to bring home, with a small discount that comes when you have tea, that felt like a very proper London win.
Back at the hotel, my mom was understandably tired so I set her up for a quiet night in and headed back out on my own to explore more of the neighbourhood.
I started with a pre-dinner drink at Three Sheets Daltson. Being there early meant I had the bar mostly to myself, which was a gift. I chatted with the bartenders, learned more about their bar program, and talked through the London bar scene. I left with several additions to my London musts, for my next trip back.
Dinner for two became dinner for one, but Manteca was more than happy to oblige. I took a seat at the bar and ordered the fried olives, a kale salad and their famous brown crab cacio e pepe. As plates continued to pass by me, each one so tempting, I’d wished I were with more people to order with. I love dining solo, but the downside is always not being able to try more of the menu.
I called it an early night as we had an early morning ahead of us. London had given us exactly what I was looking for. A mix of tradition and ease, togetherness and independence. By the time we boarded the train to Paris the next morning, I felt full. Not just from the meals, but from the city of London had given us.
The places I mention in this post:
Call Me a Food Lover... 