Enter the fridge

Sometime last year, somebody told me about a secret bar in the basement of the Spitalfields branch of the Breakfast Club. I of course completely forgot about that, until I happened to be in the area on Sunday evening. At 18:00, there was no queue for a change, so we made our way in. You need to know the password to get access to the Mayor of Scaredy Cat Town. The staff take this quite seriously, so don't bother asking for 'the bar'. But once you say the right thing, you get led to the little, dark bar. Entrance through the massive American fridge. They don't take reservations and as it's become one of London's well known secrets, it's a busy place. With a long list of delicious sounding cocktails.

I always wonder how some places manage to create such a cult around them, given that there are so many places in London! The Breakfast Club is certainly doing well for themselves. A little bit of googling revealed that their branch on Southwark Street also has a 'secret' bar - Call me Mr Lucky.

I had the (very strong) peat-nut butter cup: chocolate, peanut & vanilla:
four roses bourbon, Advocaat, Mozart dark chocolate, Liqueur 43, peanut butter, Laphroaig spray