With its instantly recognisable white-washed aesthetic (complete with chalkboard menu, and army barracks coat-pegs as far as the eye can see) the newest, and by far the most lowkey, incarnation of St John looks as if it’s been there for decades, despite only launching a week before we slip inside for a swift luncheon. Taking over the London Review Bookshop cafe in the shadow of the British Museum, it’s an ideal place to enjoy one of their joyfully utilitarian doorstop sandwiches with fillings plucked straight out of a Stella Gibbons novel c.1932. There are just 10 small tables (perfect for two, but could seat three at a push), and the menu here offers all of the St John Bakery with all manner of pastries, Eccles cakes, madelines, and doughnuts on offer, as well as warm savoury bakes (ham or courgette tart, pig cheek or potato and wigmore cheese pie) and a short but salutary wine list. A glass of claret might not be the first thing on your mind if you’re here early doors (it opens at 8am), so you’ll be happy to hear that coffee is also on hand. It shuts at 6pm (the same time as the bookshop), but for a place to enjoy an afternoon cinnamon bun next to a performative male reading Ursula Le Guin, we can think of nowhere more charming.
Time Out tip
Want a St John feast post-6pm but have simply forgotten to book a table? The original Clerkenwell outpost has a walk-ins only bar which serves pretty much that same menu as the sit-down Michelin star dining room.