The aim of Albion, the collection of “unfussy and informal all-day dining” spots scattered through the city from Shoreditch to the South Bank, is to offer great, simple produce with no-nonsense fuss. What we find on our second visit to the Albion Bankside is an overpriced café that seems to put all the emphasis on aesthetics only to forget about all that great tasting produce.
Having traversed the entirety of the Tate Modern, Albion promised cake, coffee, juice and a stylish escape from the museum café overrun with visitors. An hour later and our faith in Albion was gone. Smoothies of the day that tasted – and flavour matched – the finest of what you’ll find in any Innocent carton and cakes that tasted like the icing was made from sawdust and squirty cream left us bemused. Although I will concede that the crumb in the vanilla cake was up to scratch.
Perhaps we should have sampled the pies, the Albion full English or the admittedly good value steak sandwich? Or indulged in the warm scotch egg that we noticed arrived in its own enamel bowl? Like its Shoreditch counterpart, Albion Bankside looks the part; the floor-to-ceiling windows are a draw and the ramshackle food market image appeals but the quality of the food didn’t match the shiny South Bank appearance.