In a city of concasses, tuiles, ballotines and bites of the unutterably fine, there is occasionally no pleasure quite as exquisite as that of the Sunday hangover fry up. And for this, I wouldn’t even consider going anywhere but Jack’s at the Junction. I’ve been coming here every Sunday since I moved to London, and occasionally on other weekend days too, dependent on the severity of the night before. I can state with full confidence that this is the finest greasy spoon I have ever been to. Always rammed to the gills, a million tables squished into two cosy floors on Lavender Hill, just up the road from Clapham Junction station, Jack’s is the SW11 institution.
Its menu isn’t elaborate and is certainly not refined; it’s just good, simple stuff. Sandwiches, brunches and the kind of breakfasts you cook in a pan. Fry ups comes as a single, double or triple – one of each ingredient, two of each… you get the gist. There’s always one person (inevitably a bloke) who gets big for his boots and orders the triple – I’ve never seen one finished. It’s quite the bargain too for around 6 quid for a double and comes with bottomless tea, coffee or juice. The sandwiches are brilliant; you choose the bread it comes on, which ranges from soft focaccia to huge crusty ‘doorstops’ of white farmhouse bread, as big as a shoebox. There’s nothing like a healthy dose of carbs to chase away the Sunday cobwebs.
Anyway, I beg you, next time you wake up with two small elves wielding pneumatic drills in your temples and a serious case of the woozies, head on down to Jack’s at the Junction. Undoubtedly, I’ll see you there.
Have a peek at the one minute video I made about it for TasteMade.
Its menu isn’t elaborate and is certainly not refined; it’s just good, simple stuff. Sandwiches, brunches and the kind of breakfasts you cook in a pan. Fry ups comes as a single, double or triple – one of each ingredient, two of each… you get the gist. There’s always one person (inevitably a bloke) who gets big for his boots and orders the triple – I’ve never seen one finished. It’s quite the bargain too for around 6 quid for a double and comes with bottomless tea, coffee or juice. The sandwiches are brilliant; you choose the bread it comes on, which ranges from soft focaccia to huge crusty ‘doorstops’ of white farmhouse bread, as big as a shoebox. There’s nothing like a healthy dose of carbs to chase away the Sunday cobwebs.
Anyway, I beg you, next time you wake up with two small elves wielding pneumatic drills in your temples and a serious case of the woozies, head on down to Jack’s at the Junction. Undoubtedly, I’ll see you there.
Have a peek at the one minute video I made about it for TasteMade.
