“I’m A Food Writer & These Are The Spots I Always Go Back To”
Going to new restaurants is a lovely thing. Learning about new cuisines, new chefs, new creations from new creators, it is a privilege and a pleasure for anyone to engage with that sort of innovation, to be privy to such fresh vision. That being said, there is beauty in repetition, value in loyalty, and lessons learned in being a regular.
What is a “regular”?
Being a regular has become somewhat of a lost art. We are often so caught up in the now — in the new, in the cool, in the trendy — that we forget familiarity can be just as compelling as novelty.
A new restaurant or coffee shop is exciting, of course. But so is a familiar face, a menu you know by heart, a place that feels like yours, somewhere the staff recognise you, where you don’t have to think very hard.
It feels as though we measure our lives by how many places we’ve been to, rather than how many times we’ve returned. But there’s something rare and quite glorious about walking into a place where you’re known, when someone asks how you are, without an introduction, alongside an immediate pouring of wine.
It is uncommon, this level of familiarity, but maybe I was too quick to say it is lost. There are times when I am behind a regular in a line, and my heart sings for them as the store manager passes them extra prosciutto or slices of bread as they ring them up. Loyalty is not lost, it may even be found in quite mundane places — the coffee shop, the grocery, the local boozer, the flower shop. It only takes a few visits to become memorable, and it is a type of connection we should not abandon: friendships confined to spaces, to exchanges, and to a shared allegiance to an establishment.
There are times when I am behind a regular in a line, and my heart sings for them as the store manager passes them extra prosciutto or slices of bread as they ring them up.
Mallory, Junior Food & Drink Editor
I am, through and through, a creature lacking habit. I don’t tend to order the same thing twice; my days vary widely, and I sometimes enjoy going to a restaurant only once. But even within that, there are places I keep returning to, places I’m proud to be a regular.
My favourite repeat spots
Norman’s
It began with Norman’s. I think this was the first London place that I really felt like I knew, that I felt comfortable in, that I felt like I had been enough. I would’ve kept going forever, had she stayed open. From £3 Negronis or the perfect diner burger, it was a happy place, a place for loved ones, or for just me. Normans showed me the charm in the re-examined.
I would’ve kept going forever, had she stayed open.
WHERE: 49 Bayham St, London NW1 0AA
Ben Venuti
Now it is Ben Venuti, my lovely local coffee. Every day, a bellowed “how are you?” or, if a new face is behind the counter, a warm smile. It seems everyone is a regular here, from sunglass-donning, crossed-legged Italians to girls spilling secrets over Campari spritzes; it is home away from home, a comfortable, magnetic facade.
While Gail’s is a magnet in itself, and Blank Street does actually make quite good matcha, having a local, independent coffee shop is essential. It keeps you grounded as a consumer, ensures that you can see the bigger picture in the smaller places, and hits home on the idea that being local and supporting small is far and away more important than hype.
where: 34 Upper Tachbrook St, Pimlico, London SW1V 1SW
Wild by Tart
Wild by Tart, my loudly sung hero and local lunch of choice. I have been here countless times, often returning home with the taste of a salad I must attempt to recreate sometime next week. It never disappoints me, it is always there for me when it comes to inconvenient meetings or mothers-in-town. I believe the staff must think I am stalking them, and the PR team is bored of seeing my name as I continue to give them press. Take all my money!
where: Eccleston Yards, London SW1W 9AZ
A secret
Another is a place that I shan’t tell you of for fear of over exposure and slight insult. That said, I must discuss it because it has taught me a lesson in what “being a regular” means. There is a spot I go to strictly for sangria, manchego, and calamari. In all honesty, everything else is bad, but I will not stop going.
A place mustn’t always be the best you’ve ever had just to become a regular; it can just play host to your special moments. When you start getting to know anything, you find its faults. A part of being a regular is knowing that something is not perfect. It is not the best spot on the block, but it has the best sangria and enough tables outside to sunbathe. To be a regular is to know what to order, it is to continue showing up, to know how something fits into your life. Loyalty is important, but loyalty does not come without patience or understanding.
A part of being a regular is knowing that something is not perfect.
There are more — Smoking Goat, Josephine, Beijing Dumpling, Jerry’s Hot Subs, The Eagle and more. But I write about them probably too much. At the same time, my regular spots shouldn’t matter to you. Find your own, become a regular elsewhere. Variety is the spice of life, and my regular haunts may not appeal to you.
My point is, remember why we are here. To connect, to remember and, every so often, to frequent. Do not spread yourself so thin that you do not revisit; build, form relationships, and drift into the magnets.
