Thick slabs of shokupan milk bread are caramelized into crunchy bricks of honey butter toast right behind the counter, visible through the glass of the open kitchen. This bakery in Seven Dials operates with the precision of a laboratory and the bustle of a high-traffic canteen, combining French lamination techniques with ingredients drawn from Japan and Southeast Asia. The concept comes from pastry chef Alix André, whose background in high-end patisserie shapes the rigorous consistency of the dough, even when the flavors veer into experimental territory.
The counter display demands attention. While you will find a standard baguette, the trays are mostly filled with hybrids: croissants stuffed with sausage and Japanese barbecue sauce, or savoury escargots rolled with miso and bacon instead of raisins. The Gula Melaka coconut bun is a staple here, using palm sugar to create a deep, treacly sweetness that provides a sticky contrast to the light brioche.
The room itself is stripped back, featuring concrete textures and large windows that let in plenty of light but offer little in the way of soft furnishings. It gets loud, with the sound of steam wands and chatter bouncing off hard surfaces. Seating is limited to a few tables and a counter ledge, meaning you often have to hover for a spot or take your order out to the street. Despite the crowds, the kitchen maintains a steady rhythm, constantly replenishing the trays of golden, flaky pastry as fast as they disappear.