This is a place where most of you are unlikely to be… but if you find yourself at Saltburn station… please remember this review.

Signals is a cafe that I frequent, their coffee is delicious and they do all that frilly crap like mango matcha and gingerbread lattes. I don’t usually go for food but I was very hangry and it was absolutely HESHING DOWN rain outside, so we were forced to eat lunch.

This visit was actually meant to be for coffee grounds for Alice’s parents Xmas gift, but they did not have them… so we started off on a bad foot. Despite this setback my mood was high because I had spied ‘veggie parmo loaded fries’ on the menu. My eyes lit up like the blimmin blackpool illuminations.

‘What is a parmo’ I hear you ask. Well, its possibly the second best thing to come out of Teesside (the first being me): it’s chicken, breaded, fried, covered in béchamel sauce, topped with cheese. In my case made vegetarian and set atop fries.

These were £12.50, which I feel is a little steep, but they were delicious. I don’t know how much credit to give to Signals for these being good because you cant really mess up cheese and fake chicken.

The spring onion was a nice touch and the bowl was MASSIVE. However, I found the chips to be a bit undercooked and there was not enough garlic sauce- to be fair there rarely ever is, I could eat garlic sauce with a spoon. I would give the fries a 6.5/10, possibly too expensive for what they were.

However, Alice enjoyed her meal (salt and pepper chicken chips) thoroughly, and felt that they were reasonably priced, so maybe I’m just a stingy cow?

Later losers

– Faith Greensmith

In the depths of my sickness and despair, after a harrowing 9th week tute, i shuffled like a wounded soldier to tescos to find something to heal my aching bones. Nurofen in hand, I desperately scoured the aisles, crying and listening to celine dion like the absolute pathetic mess i have become. That’s when I saw it. Under the iridescent LED glow of the ready meal aisle, nestled between the Pizza Express doughballs and a questionable looking lasagna, I locked eyes with my one true love. A wasabi katsu curry on clubcard.

The cycle home was a blur. Pedalling to the microwave like my life depended on it as the Oxford tube sailed past, trying to mow me down.

Safely back at 88 St Clements, I unloaded my precious cargo, sat back for 4 minutes and 30 seconds, and brewed a lemsip as I cried once more at a tiktok of a very cute cat in a santa outfit. Suddenly, like a call from the heavens, the microwave cried out. Beep, beep, beep. The plate stopped spinning. I dried my tears and opened the door. The kitchen filled with the thick scent of warm katsu sauce. Peeling back the plastic film, I was struck with the sudden notion that life is worth living. We are all just broken people struggling through this world, coughing, sneezing and crying. Hope is not lost for us: curry exists.

My first mouthful is what can only be described as a religious experience. The smoothness of the sauce, the al dente bite of the microwave rice, the soggy crumb coating of the chicken. On any ordinary day, this would be a slightly disappointing lunch. Not today. This was a wake up call. This was a hug in a small plastic dish. Like Anton Ego in Ratatouille, I was propelled into a world of nostalgic flavour, reminiscing on the days of my youth when a katsu curry at wagamamas was less than a tenner. When I would go ice skating after school at the local rink, which has since been cancelled because they found a condom on the ice last week (big up calverly park). When the biggest problem in life was the seating plan in a GCSE science lesson. Life is more complicated now, but we are still the same people. We crave human connection, christmas spirit, and the meals that remind us that everything is going to be ok. We never have to study GCSE physics again. But we can always come back to the humble katsu.

According to Suzanne Collins, hope is the only thing stronger than fear. I feared for my life and my sanity today. But this humble katsu curry brought me hope. It reminded me of who I am, and how far I have left to go. Now safely tucked up in my bed, I’ll carry this hope into tomorrow, chug a lemsip, and pray for brighter days, new clubcard deals, and my next taste of pure joy. – GG

Unlike some yappers on this blog, I’m going to keep this review short and sweet.

Food – 8/10. The patatas bravas and ham croquettas were slightly too salty for my taste, but the goat’s cheese deep fried in honey more than made up for it. Was licking the leftover honey off the plate like a happy little kitty-cat. The fish balls were nice as well.

Ambience – 2/10. Typically I would say the ambience of this place is fantastic. Unfortunately, this time I got psychologically tortured by a baby.

Cost – 10/10. Didn’t have to pay for anything! (my parents paid)

Decor – 7/10. Big fan of the orange walls.

Overall: Fantastic restaurant, fantastic eat, fantastic times. Shame about the evil baby.

Whitecross St, EC1Y 8QJ

Some are saying Market Restaurant is the ‘Tick Tock Cafe of EC1’. But comparison is unbecoming. This is an establishment in its own right. Just look at the sign pronouncing ‘Burgers Rolls E.T.C.’.

When I see ‘E.T.C.’ I will not rest until I know what that entails. Well, I checked and its beans, chips and an incredibly healthy serving of warmth and love.

The people watching potential of M.R. is frankly off the charts. On a Sunday there are regulars left, right and centre. Coming out the proverbial wazoo, if you will. I like to sit in the same seat with a phenomenal view over the cafe interior. Importantly, no one will ever know I’m observing as my eyes are perpetually glazed over. You should try it sometime yourself, reader. I’ll see (watch) you there.

Picture this, its 0$°$, you’ve just spent two hours in a medieval convent,, and you’re very hungry. But you’re on a budget, and in the centre of Prague. So, where are you to go?

As we strolled through the cobbled streets, filled with expensive bistros and tourist traps, my stomach told me what I wanted: deep fried Czech food, and I wanted it now.

Kolkovna was like a light coming out of the darkness. You know that feeling when you don’t Google a place, you just find it on the street and it ends up being perfect. It was one of those days. The restaurant was like a big warm oasis -apart from, in true Prague fashion, a very irritating American lady loudly talking on the phone next to the entrance.

Now, if you know me you know that I don’t play about Smažený sýr– or for the uncultured among you, fried cheese. The fried cheese from Kolkovna was amazing. Unlike my local cheese-dealer-spot (Brandýs pub) which serves fried edam, this was fried gouda. The cheese-pull was immense, it oozed out of the batter like the nectar of the bloody gods. The chips were spot on. It was overall a delectable meal for the mouth (but not good for any other part of my body).

A wise Swiss woman (Jade Morris) once told me that when eating cheese, you should drink wine/pop, not water, in order to avoid creating a cheese ball in your stomach. Following this logic I had a beer. The man who served us was so happy; I think that being around beer all day must make the Czechs happy because it is the thing they love most in the world.

Overall I would give my meal 4/5: one point is deducted from the lack of pickles on my plate. Other notes include, Alice’s mash was amazing but her schnitzel was a bit undercooked so meat eaters beware.

Kolkovna might have had ‘traditional Czech dishes’, but did they have traditional Czech prices? Well boys and girls, they did. For my absolutely massive fried cheese and fries plus a 0.3lr beer, I paid only £11 (or 304 ish crowns) which is crazy good prices in Prague.

Extra: I don’t know if I can give any credit to the restaurant for its location, but it is about a minute away from this statue of Kafka sat atop what appears to be a massive vagina, so if you’re in the area you can hit up two spots at once!

By Faith Greensmith, visited 3rd Dec 2025

This establishment is a convent of Czech culture and Kerridge family history. The singular employee is also the owner, he has goats (whose cheese he sells) and he served bubbles to the guests at my parent’s wedding. He remembers my grandpa (and his illegitimate offspring), and drinks with my uncle, and has seen many a hoard of English speaking youths pass through a town otherwise completely unmolested by any kind of tourism ever in its entire Slavic history.

Need to feed 8 people for under £40? This is the place, but don’t expect the pint you want if its going to take him too long to pour.

Opening hours are 12 till 9, and the goats can reliably be found down the road (but try not to get caught hanging out with them too many times because the owner thinks we’re a bit weird now).

Recommended items:

Fried cheese with chips

Chicken schnitzel with chips

*(DO NOT EXPECT ANYTHING GREEN ON YOUR PLATE)

**For those looking for a non-alcoholic beverage, expect luke-warm Kofola from a 2L bottle and a weird look if you’re older than 15 (you’re in Czech you should be drinking beer).

By Alice Kerridge,

Visited: many many times

They now recognise us here. This is the perfect place for a greasy breakfast after a rancid night out – we’ve even been there most recently on both Saturday and Sunday. Luckily this place is named after its clock decorations covering the walls rather than the social media platform, although thankfully the clocks are frozen in time.

In popular demand, we have the breakfast ciabatta, filled with runny fried egg, bacon, sausage and mushrooms, creating a true delight. Alongside such breaded monstrosities we also have generous full plates, toasties and jacket potatoes, all portions that will not disappoint. The coffee is also pretty darn nice and there’s also fresh orange juice for the scurvy prone. Be warned – if you order a side of toast, they will give you enough to feed an average sized orphanage.

The booths let us sit altogether and have really made us feel like we are in some strange American sitcom. The staff are wonderful and have been running this place like clockwork (pun intended) since the 90s. Hopefully one day, they will award us a family discount.

I’ll leave it to Alex VT to rank the croissants.

OVERALL PROS: great food for the soul (not the heart) and incredible vibes.

A CON: there is no signal….