I fully intended for this article to be a listicle, a handy guide to an area I love and miss. But I started writing the introduction and it just turned into, well, the whole article. This is my Easton - the nitpickers will argue it encompasses St Jude’s, Greenbank and Eastville, and technically, they’d be right. But I came here to talk about great food, not invisible lines. Anyway, the reason Easton is such a wondrous place is that it is free of borders — people from all walks of life and all over the world have made their home here. It’s joyous to see. It’s also the only place I’ve ever had neighbours kind enough to frequently send reused ice cream containers laden with still-hot curry over the fence. It’s a place of chaos and magic, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. If anyone is so bold as to actually follow the itinerary I have set out below, I would really love to hear about it. You can always get in touch by messaging us on Instagram (@the_bristol_sauce) or reply to this email.
The perfect day in Easton begins at around 9am at The Public Market, because in order to understand Easton you must see all sides of it, and gentrification is one of those sides. And because the Extract coffee and East Bristol Bakery croissants are excellent. Before picking up your caffeinated beverage of choice, you should peruse the shelves and admire how anyone could spend £8 on olives and £12 on a pack of ham. Then you’ll probably pick up a bag of £4 crisps because it would be rude not to. As summer swells, admire the table on the right as you go in which will fill up with wonky, rainbow Isle of Wight tomatoes that have never seen the cruel confines of a fridge and hopefully will make it to your bruschetta or panzanella without ever doing so. And if there’s a tall, bearded, friendly New Zealander behind the counter, make sure to be extra friendly — he’s a total sweetheart and knows Easton better than most.
Then a walk around the atmospheric trails of Greenbank Cemetery. Morbid, to spend the morning of a perfect day in a cemetery, you say? Try it and come back to me. If you fancy an adventure, see if you can find your way up to Royate Hill Viaduct.
Next, Jeevan Sweets for a mid-morning samosa. They’re the best in Bristol, and a local institution. Plus, you’ll need to have topped up your stomach satiation before heading down St Mark’s Road to squeeze through the aisles of Sweet Mart, lest you end up buying bags full of snacks. Sweet Mart is the best supermarket in the world. I seem to stumble upon a previously undiscovered aisle every time I’m in there. The incense aisle is a personal favourite, but I’m also a big fan of the freezer cabinets. Frozen parathas, reheated in a hot frying pan are almost as good as those you get in a restaurant. My freezer is never without them.
Lunch is only a stone’s throw away at Zam Zam Bakery, but first - if your caffeine tolerance allows - we must stop for another coffee at Radical Roasters. Even if you can’t hack another coffee just yet, you ought to poke your head in just to admire the eclectic collection of furniture (there’s at least one church pew), the ever-changing collection of art on the walls, the shelf in the window laden with baked goods and the micro coffee roasting set-up at the rear. Apparently the theme is 'Granny's living room meets Irish bar'. Accurate, though I’d add in ‘seriously detour-worthy coffee’ too.
Zam Zam Bakery may look like any other kebab joint, but don’t be fooled. Once you’re seated on a plastic stool at the IKEA kid’s table — the only table in there — watching the owner deftly slide keema naans and lahmajon in and out of the cavernous brick oven, you’ll understand. Rumour has it he can get 70 naans at any one time in there. You’ll only be needing one.
Now wipe that sauce off your face, it’s time for the pub. Trundle down the road to The Plough, the best pub in the world, stopping only to sink a small glass of wine if you fancy it sat in the window in The Baffled King, and perhaps a quick go on the slide in the children’s playground on the corner.
Then to the pub. Sit inside or in the covered garden at the back, or split your time between the two if you wish to see the whole character of the place. Make sure to study the memorabilia adorning the wall and the ceiling and give a cheery wave to the blokes playing pool in the corner. Drinks are cheap in The Plough — I told you it was the best pub in the world — but you’re not here just to drink. Your pint simply must be accompanied by a goat birria taco from kitchen residents Gourmet Warriors. I know you’re getting full by this point but please, there’s no point protesting. You get bonus Plough points for sticking around long enough to see the staff pull down the ceiling hatch to reveal a secret set of stairs, and for finding your favourite bit of empowering graffiti in the toilets. Soul-affirming indeed.
Emboldened by booze, go and make some more unnecessary but delightful purchases in BAM store, an independent gift shop nearby that sells delightful little trinkets from local artists. It’s the perfect place to buy presents, for yourself or someone else.
Now dinner depends on how far you’re willing to walk. If lured by the promise of another pint, you could head towards Wiper and True’s taproom to soak up the last of the evening sun and then end the day at Desi Dera for Pakistani delights or Zara for Ethiopian and Eritrean. Both are excellent choices.
Or if you’d rather somewhere more immediate, then you have your pick of the following: Shah’s Desi Food for trays of curry, Easton Grill House, or Zhyan for loaded naans and grilled meats, The Journey if you fancy some Tibetan momos, Afghan Tasty Corner for pay-as-you feel eponymous plates or African Palace for suya, plantain and poundo. You can’t go wrong.
There we have it. A pretty perfect day right? Yes, I know, you’re uncomfortably full, but it was worth it, wasn’t it? I know what you’re thinking — why don’t I just move to Easton? It sounds like the best place in the world. Well, you’d better be quick. Remember what I said about gentrification. Blink and the flat above Sweet Mart will be going for half a million.
All words and photos by Meg Houghton-Gilmour
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Cafe 5 up by the cycle track crossing. I'm from an era when Easton was a place of poverty and deprivation so it was a huge mind shock for me nearly ten years ago when I discovered it was now super Uber posh and everyone who lives there now has got at least two degrees and works in bio-chemical research or creative media. But that's Upper Easton. But by the looks of what's being developed around Silverthorne and Gas Lane maybe the "poor people" won't be at Lower Easton in 20 years time. The difficulty about deploring gentrification is that 1) it makes areas so nice to be in 2) it's the educated better off (not rich really)who see and appreciate the innate beauty in a townscape like Easton and places all over the country,even world and just as those places become desirable the "poor people" who are getting priced out realise their predicament but too late. You don't know what you got till it's gone
'Rumour has it that Shakira actually says ‘Injera injera’ at the start of Hips Don’t Lie' :) :)
So good Meg