Panini

H T Harris’ Double Salami

The double salami from H T Harris, Fitzrovia

The double salami from H T Harris, Fitzrovia

 In this ever-changing world of post-recession London, it is sometimes difficult to see too far into the past.  The constant churning of businesses opening and closing in the city means that streets can become unrecognisable from one year to the next.  Several times have I been to visit a cafe I used to love years ago, only to find that it has been turned into a Caffe Nero.  It’s quite a depressing thought.  Places that have been there for generations are becoming much fewer.

H T Harris on Great Titchfield Street has managed to survive the waves of chain eateries, new restaurants and ‘craft’ coffee shops that have moved into the area in recent years, and has become something of a Fitzrovia institution.  This little Italian cafe-deli has been serving up cappucinos and sandwiches to the local office workers for just shy of fifty years and has queues forming outside almost every lunchtime.  The approach is simple and probably unchanged for many years:  good Italian sandwiches, coffee and the usual deli items of pasta, amaretti biscuits, cheeses and cured meats.  The first time I went in, I asked for a sandwich menu.  The gentleman behind the counter replied:  “Anything you see here, we can do.”  He also gestured to the sandwiches piled up on three trays in the window, “Or we have double salami, some parma ham or a vegetarian one.”

I love this straightforward approach, he has probably been making the same sandwiches for years.  There’s no menu, no description of what the sandwiches are, or what is in them.  You just have to trust that they are good.  A double salami sandwich, in a piece of focaccia the size of a house brick was swiftly placed in the panini press for a few minutes and then was mine for a fiver (Fitzrovia, right?)

What I actually got was an enormous sandwich, generously filled with wafer thin Italian salami, some very good mozzarella, six or seven sundried tomatoes – sweet and almost black in colour, a layer of basil and rocket and more than just a hint of chilli (he did warn me that it would be spicy).  The focaccia was crisped and warm on the outside but still oily and moist enough that it was necessary to wipe your fingers before touching anything so not to leave greasy fingerprints.  A perfect example of how the best sandwiches are made with the best quality ingredients.  It’s easy to see how those piles in the window sell out every day.

H T Harris, 41 Great Titchfield Street, London W1W 7PG.

Masters Sandwich Bar’s Parma Ham, Mozzarella and Basil Panini

Parma Ham, Mozzarella and Basil Panini from Masters Sandwiches on Great Portland Street

Parma ham, mozzarella and basil panini from Masters Sandwiches on Great Portland Street

When it comes to lunchtime possibilities, there is nothing really better than working in central London.  Of course, you’ll feel it keenly in your wallet, but there are an abundance of places within this relatively small area where you can eat well for your midday meal.  I’ve been in a situations before where my options were limited to a chain coffee shop, a rather dubious looking greasy spoon and a supermarket chiller cabinet – none of which were any good – so I always remind myself to be appreciative.

That being said, a wide choice brings the bad as well as the good.  And where there is a high concentration of office workers, the chains inevitably move in.  I know how easy it is for these chains to become a habit – day after day, I see people walk through my office with the same Pret bag, or desk-lunching with the same sushi box from Itsu.  It’s easy, convenient, fairly cheap and you know what you’re going to get, right?  I fell into the Pret trap some years ago and it was a long time before I could face a crayfish sandwich again.

The fear of falling into a lunchtime rut has sent me out on to the streets of Fitzrovia to sample what is on offer beyond the franchises and to see what I can find in the little independents.  A walk down Mortimer Street led me past Starbucks to the excellent Workshop Coffee and a new-found belief in the power of vegan sandwiches; and a walk a little further the following day led me to Masters Sandwich Bar, on the corner of Great Portland Street.

Like many of the small independent cafes and restaurants around Great Portland Street and Great Titchfield Street, Masters is longstanding – it has been there since 1983.  The menu is the usual mix of breakfast items, bagels and toasted sandwiches, and on one wall they have a selection of pastries and cakes, including a delicious-looking cinnamon danish. 

I ordered a panini with parma ham, mozzarella, tomatoes and basil which was toasted whilst I waited.  The parma ham was good quality, and added a nice amount of saltiness to the creamy blandness of the mozzarella.  The tomatoes and the basil were plentiful, but I couldn’t help but feel as though there was something missing – another element that would have pulled it all together and turned it from a good sandwich into a spectacular one.  Perhaps more seasoning?

Seasoning, in the end, came from a packet of scampi fries that I had in my handbag.

Masters Sandwiches, 53 Great Portland Street, London W1W 7LG

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