When your 9 year old (who is now 10) says to you, “Mummy, they know you so well here, they bring you your coffee without you ordering it!”, you know it’s your local, your hang-out, your place.
Over a year ago, my one friend, the delightful Mrs H, introduced me to The 1955 Club (so named for the birth year of owner, Paul) in Walton-on-Thames, Surrey. It was an artisan café that just opened and she needed to try it. I say my “one” friend, as I had just relocated to the UK from Singapore and found myself entrenched in deepest darkest suburbia. I was struggling to find myself a decent brew.
Sometimes a cheeky pastry needs to be had after a gruelling session of Bootcamp!
Just a note aside about Mrs H and I. We’re both Australians who had spent some years in Singapore as “expats”. There, we were just acquaintances, with a great friend-of-a-friend sort of relationship. It was a “she has boys and I have girls” kinda thing. Upon relocating to the UK (she, just over a year before me), we found ourselves neighbours. Not literally but close enough! She was my savior in deepest darkest suburbia. Sadly, she has gone home now. That still happens, even when you move “home” or to a place you think you’re “settling”.
I miss our easy relationship where I’d text her after dropping my kids off at school. “Coffee? Usual?” and she’d reply with an “aaargh, got loads of laundry” and then, less than a minute later, “ok, you’ve twisted my arm!” or vice versa. I can tell you now, there was definitely no twisting of anything, nor any persuading necessary! We’d turn up shivering in the depths of winter, within minutes of each other, wrapped in our “duvet” coats, scarves, gloves and beanies, refusing to take those off until our coffees arrived and we had defrosted sufficiently! Oh us Aussies who have spent a few years in the tropics. What lightweights we’ve become!
We’d more often than not have a full breakfast at The 1955 Club, at least twice a week. We tried their eggs benedict, eggs Florentine, smashed avocado on sourdough (for the Aussies amongst us), a naughty English fry up or a simple oatmeal. It was always with a great coffee.
Even after Mrs H moved away, this spot remains my “place”. Sometimes my kids and I go left-field and order anything we like (from the extensive fry-up list) and there’s never a problem! It is simple but quality fare, nicely presented and served by the most lovely of staff. There is even the obligatory hip barista (called Alex) – surely NOT, I hear you say, NOT in deepest darkest suburbia – but it’s the truth!
Their pastry selection is great too! Check out those brownies.
I often wonder why people would frequent the Costa Coffee or Starbucks on the same strip when such a wonderful independent café exists so close by where the coffee is far superior. I’d encourage you to support your independent cafés. You’ll often be met with fresher, more creative fare and better service.
For me, I’m just happy that I’ve found myself a “place” in deepest darkest suburbia.
The 1955 Cafe
56 The Heart, Hepworth Way
Walton-on-Thames
Licensed, dog-friendly, café in Walton, Surrey serving hot and cold food, all day full English breakfast, great coffee, shakes and smoothies.
All images by Sabina Spiteri.
