Monday, July 2, 2018


I found myself down in Devon this weekend, visiting the ‘rents and getting a little bit of sea-breezy relief from hayfever. I grew up in a tiny seaside town called Teignmouth, which is right on the coast and full of exciting things like charity shops and pubs [insert raised eyebrows here]. It’s very very quaint, and very picturesque, but after living in London for two years, it seems like there’s not very much to do. After having a go at the ol’ faithfuls; crazy golf, a walk along the beach and a pint in the pub, I decided I wanted to try finding a good brunch spot. I’ve become absolutely obsessed with brunch lately, and I decided it would be nice to explore some cafés so I can have my fix when I’m down in Devon again.

The last time I came down to visit, we stumbled upon The Strand Cafe in Shaldon. It’s set just back from the beach, and is one of the cutest-decorated cafes I’ve ever been into. They’ve got colourful cupcake cases hanging on ribbons, sweetie jars and watering cans with flowers in them as window decorations. There’s bunting, wicker baskets and natural driftwood along the windowsills. Verrrrry cute, verrrrry instagrammable. It’s beautiful and light by the windows, but I definitely noticed the back of the cafe is darker, and wouldn’t have been so good to take pictures in.

Now, get your tissues ready because I’m about to tell you a tale of tragedy, loss and woe. We arrived ten minutes, TEN MINUTES, after they stopped doing the breakfast menu. That meant no Eggs Benedict for me. After deciding not to call the police, I checked out what else they had going on. The lunch menu, which starts at 11:30 (a perfect time to serve Eggs Benedict, if you ask me, but whatever), offers a range of sandwiches, salads, platters and bistro items, along with lighter bites like croissants, traditional Devonshire cream teas and cakes. 

I ordered a vanilla latte, which was delicious. The only thing that irks me about some independent cafes is that they serve coffees in the wrong cups. I’m aware this is literally the most disgusting first-world problem but every time I lifted this cappuccino mug to my mouth, I nearly sloshed latte over myself. I like a latte glass. Fight me.

I decided to try my first ever Croque Monsieur, which I decided was rather like the boujiest cheese toastie the world has ever known. It is made with two slices of thick seeded bread, ham, gruyere (or, as I will refer to it from now on as, gruYEAH) and dijon mustard. It was served with crisps and a side salad. Needless to say, I inhaled it. It was delicious, it was cheeeeesy, it was satisfying. 

And it was nowhere near London prices, which made the experience all the more sweet. At £7.25, this boujie cheese toastie was a winner. But I’d go back just to sit in this pretty little cafe and look at the view of the beach. 

I’m sure that it is quite unlikely that any of you will ever find yourself in Shaldon Village (with its vast population of 1,700 people), but if you ever do, I couldn’t recommend this cute little cafe enough. The food is really beautiful; my dad had ratatouille and my stepmum had a Po’Boy sandwich, both of which were also delish. 

If I’ve learned anything, it is to do a little more exploring, even in London. Sure, I live and breathe for my Côte Brasserie Eggs Benedict, but I found a little gem here, and I’d be excited to try more new brunchy items. 

Lots of love,
Jasmine x

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