For a girl who resides precisely nowhere within the embrace of the M25, I have a disproportionate number of hangovers in Brixton. (See also: Kentish Town, but that’s a whole other blog post in itself.) It’s where some of my worst-influence friends live, and visits to stay with them usually culminate in a less-than-pleasant morning after. Still, there’s always Brixton Village.
I’d love to pretend that I’m au fait with every nook and cranny of this lovely little warren of cafes, restaurants and shops. But that would be a lie; despite my best intentions, I’ve still yet to even make it to Honest Burgers. It’s always Senzala and its amazing crêpes for my friends and I. It’s pretty much our Bar Italia.
Most of the menu looks incredible, but my favourite is the Picante: spicy minced beef, red onion, peppers and a generous blaze of jalapeños. It’s got enough zing to cut through even the most horrendous of hangovers. Teamed with a glass of refreshingly minty homemade lemonade? I’m almost a functioning human being again.
