Coffee – Sugar Pot, Kennington

I discovered Sugar Pot whilst out for an afternoon walk with my boyfriend who lives in Stockwell. It was a bright, crisp, wintery morning and – as he had no food in his flat – we decided to venture out.

“Where do you feel like going?” he asked, swinging shut the barren fridge.

I knew exactly where I wanted to go. Somewhere quiet and relaxed, but with enough people outside to people watch. Somewhere that knows the difference between a latte and a flat white. Somewhere that doesn’t respond with silence when I request for sugar to be added to my espresso. Somewhere that smelt of fresh croissant and freshly brewed coffee. Basically somewhere that would make me feel like I was in a rustic French town, not SW London.


I knew what I wanted, but how to put it without sounding like an absolute coffeeshop snob?

“Somewhere serving a nice croissant,” I replied at last.

We walked from Stockwell towards Kennington, where he believed we would stand a better chance of finding somewhere that would fit the (croissant induced) bill.

As we edged closer to Kennington Park, a little flicker of forest green (my favourite colour) caught my eye from across the busy road. Under closer inspection (squinting) I found a little terraced house with the words “Sugar Pot” dotted across the exterior.

Now, as a seasoned coffee shop goer, I know a coffee shop when I see one. And this was one.

“There” I said. “Let’s try there.”

We didn’t actually step inside Sugar Pot until thirty minutes later, after checking out a cafe located inside the park itself.

As we opened the door to Sugar Pot, we were greeted by a cheerful man with very cool, bright blonde hair. Soft piano music was playing in the background which, after our jaunt around Kennington Park, created some Jane Austen Sunday vibes. It was very quiet inside, but that’s not because it wasn’t very full, but because there are only around 4-5 tables. Luckily one was waiting for us by the window.

I managed to get my croissant and a delightful flat-white, perfectly executed in an ornate floral cup. My boyfriend joined me on the flat-white but opted for banana bread. His was the winning choice: the banana bread was in-sane. Buttery, soft and served hot.

We didn’t spend long in Sugar Pot, but I easily could have wiled away the afternoon there. The only caveat being it did start to fill up a bit towards the end of our stay, with some coffee dwellers eyeing up our empty cups a little too obviously.



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