The sun was balmy with the promise of something new on the horizon, golden rays coating us in a warm light as we left our suitcases behind and stepped into the Mecca that was Polo Bar. Our stomachs gurgled and cried out for undivided attention, as we waited for our lips to be caressed with brunchtastic food, a singular egg plunged into orange yolk dripping into hungry mouths. We would wrap our tongues almost playfully around the glorious Oreo milkshakes that clambered to dance, we would dip into the chili cheese chips with child-like gleefulness and we would master the ripened avocados that longed to feel at home in the warm hub that we called our stomachs. As the sun grew high in the sky and the tourists milled around Liverpool Street with guides in tow, we would devour delicious brunch plates with ravenous desire, laughing and chatting until we could eat no more. For our gastronomic paradise for the afternoon was none other than famed 24 hour hotspot ‘ Polo Bar’, located a mere two minutes from Liverpool Street Station. They had something for vegetarians, vegans and meat eaters alike, a communal meeting space where food and good company collided, brown plush booths juxtaposed against wooden tables. We would talk until the cows went home, the glorious golden sun crawling into the early dusk of night. But most of all our mouths would be full, sated by the pleasurable brunch items that lined our hearts and stomachs with flippant abandon.
We began with thirst to quench, a Camden Hells Lager for me and a strong Cappuccino for Marie, two beverage worlds colliding in one meeting. A sip of lager was refreshingly cold, amber liquid gulped without grace, pandering over the menu that was in front of us, we had food on the brain. The vibrant red design of the lager was eye catching, but not as mesmerizing as its first taste… crisp, dry, clean, a liquefied feast for the senses. It was easy to see why Hells had pocketed silver in the International Brewing Awards (2015) with its fresh palatable taste, and was a welcome aphrodisiac to a surprisingly warm British day, the sun knocking outside our window in constant reminder. Our drinks were the first to arrive with wondrous aplomb, two Oreo milkshakes sans alcohol, frothing with white frosted cream. Chocolate sauce drizzled in whipped cream basked in expectant mouths, crushed Oreos crumbling on the tip of rasping tongues. The milkshake was sensuous, an explosion of cream that rioted in our mouths in choreographed pleasure, as we slurped and gulped with creamy milkshake smiles. Little did we know that the brunch at Polo Bar would knock our socks off simultaneously, a vegetarian and a meat eater feasting together in satisfactory harmony.
The vegetarian all day breakfast was first to sashay into our peripheral vision, an altered version of the menu classic, sans roasted mushrooms, with baked beans dripping onto two slices of soft bloomer toast, Bubble and Squeak playing hide and seek with free range eggs. The eggs were glorious, sunny side up, oozing orange onto roasted tomatoes, hash browns replaced with ripened avocado slices. And who could forget the chili cheese chips in all its maximal glory, jalapenos lovingly interspersed in melted cheese fries? It was a brunch for the ages, a Sunday fiesta at Polo Bar that exceeded all expectations. There was no wilted spinach, or ‘tight’ portions here, plates were bountiful and generous, laden with classic breakfast items to suit all tastes. While we wavered over the famous pancakes emblazoned in strawberries, blueberries and creamed, we craved something more savory and hence the ‘all day breakfast seemed like the obvious choice’ for both of us we decried. An addition of vegetarian Quorn sausages would have taken the veggie brunch to the next level, but nevertheless it packed a punch, the sliced avocado pairing well with the heat of the chips popping in hungry mouths. And what would it be for Marie I hear you ask, what would sate her rumbling belly?
It would be a classic meaty American Breakfast Plate, with two free range eggs on slow roasted thyme tomatoes, a pot of maple syrup casually poured onto streaky bacon. To finish, tongue wrapped firmly around the last of our Oreo sensations, she would delve into the accompanying side ingredients, hash browns and sweet potato chips Cajun style, Cumberland sausages to finish her breakfast done right. She declared that the breakfast hit her sweet spot, the sweet potato fries moreish and full of flavour, the pancakes fat and fluffy. And how could she get over the crispiness of the hash browns in its glorious golden state, the juice of the slow roasted tomatoes leaking onto orange eggs? We vowed, wiping clean our brunch mouths , that we would be back, a sweet dessert trail next, daring to enter their infamous pancake challenge, could we tame the sweet beast that prevailed?But for now we dreamed a brunching dream, where yolks exploded in a swirl of colour and our eyes were awakened to a new gastronomic world. There were tomato reds, avocado greens and orange yolks, smashed onto a bed of baked beans, and there were beige brown shakes and dark chocolate too, pleather mocha booths and oak pine tables. But above all was the freeing feeling of bliss, bellies warmed by guilty pleasures, a Sunday Afternoon with the promise of something new.
We vowed that we would be back to sink our teeth into sweet treats, could we take on the royal pancake challenge and win? We would wrap our mouths around Banoffee and vanilla cream, with digestive crumbles and banana stacked on pancakes galore. We would climb a fresh forest berry mountain, wading into a sea of fruit coulis, surrounded by its vanilla cream blanket. And we would dive into a red velvet paradise, scooping cherry ripple ice cream while we popped red sticky glace cherries into our mouths, licking our fingers clean. And when we ate and ate until we could eat no more, our bellies would pooch out in perfunctory satisfaction, undoing the buttons on our jeans and dresses, slurping on beers while we kicked back and relaxed. But alas our time at Polo Bar was coming to an end,we bid our culinary friends adieu and stepped out into the cloudless night with freedom.As the sun set and reached out for its nightgown, the world faded into dark and we lay down our sleepy heads, dreaming of a veggietastic brunch at Polo Bar. And what a beautiful dream it was.
Have You Ever Been To Polo Bar?
Please note we were given complimentary meals in exchange for content but all thoughts are my own and are not affected by complimentary services.