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As invitations go, ‘brunch in Clapham’ is generally about as appealing a prospect as ‘sexual health check’. (I live there, so I’m allowed to say that.) The words conjure visions of men in pink shorts howling maaaaaaate! at each other and the inexplicable hundred-metre queue for #nomnomnom waffles at The Breakfast Club.
There is, however, an exception to every rule. And that exception is Juliet’s Cafe and Bar. You might recognise the name: the original Juliet’s Quality Foods in Tooting is one of south-west London’s best-loved (and best-looking) brunch spots. It’s run by the founders of Milk in Balham, that very cool purveyor of dishes like buckwheat pancakes with Amarillo peaches and matcha craquelin choux. It would sound a bit contrived if it wasn’t faultlessly executed – but it is, all of it, and all the time.
So Juliet’s 2.0 has an impressive pedigree. It’s also got by far the nicest site of the trio, occupying the café space at gallery-slash-shop Studio Voltaire. On a sunny Saturday morning the courtyard was shady and deliciously cool; a fountain splashed, plants drifted in the warm breeze and Clapham High Street felt a world away. Inside were long canteen-style tables, a blackboard menu and the nicest team, who made me a flat white so velvety that I forgot to be annoyed by the lack of a handle on the cup.
At the weekends, both the breakfast and lunch sections of Juliet’s menu are available all day – the former expands on the OG Juliet’s fancy-crispy-things-and-eggs-on-toast remit, while the lunch dishes are more small-platesy. Melon and coppa is a gorgeous riff on the ’70s starter, the dry-cured pork draped winningly over the fruit. Perfect, no notes. Broad bean and halloumi fritters were unimprovable too: craggy, golden-battered pucks stacked with more melty-in-the-middle griddled cheese (made with English sheep’s milk), citrusy green tomato relish and a poached egg, all nestling under a thatch of microherbs. On the sweet side, they’re playing the hits here: the squidgy banana bread with espresso butter has made the jump from Tooting, as have the dimpled chocolate-marshmallow-sea-salt cookies, which wink at you from a plate next to the till.
At the moment, Juliet’s closes at 5pm, but I’m not sure how long that position will hold: I can imagine the courtyard strung with fairy lights on summer evenings. If it does launch a dinner service, I’ll be first in the queue. And I don’t care how many men in pink shorts I have to dodge to get there.
The vibe A gorgeous breakfast-to-brunch-to-lunch spot.
The food Carefully considered clever plates that taste as good as they look.
The drink Coffee, coffee, coffee.
Time Out tip Double-check before you get on the Northern line; right now Juliet’s is only open from Wednesday to Sunday.