I tried to be good, but the card machine had it in for me, a review of Mocca SE3

No really. It was time to start losing the past 2 years weight. Atlanta – I blame you. And also Pret A Manger chocolate and almond butter cookies, oh well, yes and their sundried tomato and egg breakfast baguette. And I suppose I should stop baking spicy cakes with cream frosting, so yeah, mostly just Atlanta.

 I need a lot of sympathy. I limped to Mocca, totally like limped. This was limping from the surgery to the chemist, to find that the chemist didn’t open on time, and I had no interest in limping back home before limping back out again. People look at you when you limp  – in a kind of, ‘time you left London, dear’ sort of a way. 

And I ordered a coconut cappuccino which is already a direction that makes me nervous… but it was that or soya… just as I saw the quaint sign that said ‘minimum spend £5.’ (Me and Mocca, neither of us deserve to be in London) And I had already ordered, and there was no where else warm to wait, and there was an orange chocolate bread pudding square just sat all lonely in the glass counter…. Looking At Me.

So I thought, I have a limp, I deserve cake. But do you know what my brain said, it said ‘that’s not an excuse, carry on like this and nothing in your wardrobe will fit.’ I really thought that. My brain should get a certificate. I thought, ‘there will be another solution to this £5 conundrum, there really will be.’

But I looked. And there wasn’t. Just all those icing sugared italian pastry delights. And the cake was still looking at me. And the waitress was looking at me. And if their had been a queue, it would have been looking at me too. You know that look. And after all, the GP had just confirmed that I hadn’t got gout, so my unhealthy lifestyle was clearly doing me no real harm at all. AND I NEEDED TO SPEND FIVE POUNDS.

It was a terribly patient waitress who waited out me having this internal dialogue…. partially outloud. 

As I sat down, (everyone was still looking at me, but because of the limp now) I thought. This was a mistake. That lonely bread pudding was clearly a last night left over and it will be horrible. But it wasn’t. It was gooey and sweet and everything that a chocolate orange bread pudding really should be. I finished every last crumb. I sipped my cappuccino which was surprisingly good for all that coconut and I perused my surroundings and I thought. Nice place this.

A quick note on that coffee. It was good coffee. And I am coffee fussy. Remember Fosters that Mocca replaced? That was bad coffee. The world has become an incrementally better place. In an extraordinarily localised fashion. 

Do I regret this trip, which, as it turned out, due to some trouble in the Blackwall tunnel, still meant I had to limp home before limping back for painkillers? And was actually delicious and well served (Um, yeah. Kinda.)

(Don’t forget, you can preorder, my debut novel “Helen & the a Grandbees” here: 


Mocca Coffee Shop, It replaced Fosters. Easy to tell.

A Review of Moca, coffee shop and deli in Blackheath Standard

I have been neglecting Moca: I visit. I eat at Moca with friends who ask me if this will appear in the blog … and somehow it never does.


Perhaps this is because it took me ages to actually try the coffee. It’s never been a coffee moment when I land there. It feels unjust for a coffee blogger to opine without actually trying the coffee.

Or maybe I just can’t think of anything to say about it. it’s neither ‘out there’ or ‘back here’.

It’s at a sort of at a moderate distance.

Actually, they do serve Portuguese tarts. Portuguese tarts are great.

Actually, they do serve Portuguese tarts. Portuguese tarts are great.

I can provide a brief history of Mocca. Moca replaced Foster’s. It’s easy to tell: it now has a big shiny red banner instead of a run down yellow banner. However more importantly, this change in ownership replaced peculiar little polystyrene cups with some frothy brown and white stuff in with cappuccinos, REAL cappuccinos and lattes. I don’t quite understand why they used to be so bad because the last owners were Italian and did have a propa cappa maka. But I do have the absolute recollection of actually binning a cappuccino from Foster’s one cold morning.

Well, I can assure you all that the change in ownership means that everything has undergone a thorough upgrade, with smart brown seats and semi-deli provisions. I think they even use butter on their sandwiches now. The sandwiches are nice. There are freshly squeezed juices of all mixes on demand and flatbreads with interesting fillings. In fact all of the savoury offerings have proved enjoyable, served by the upbeat staff, albeit in occasionally freezing conditions (because they open the back door to cool down the kitchen).

Moca Interior

Moca Interior

I recently discovered the another reason why I had not reviewed Mocca. Other than the litle bite sized italian sweets, the cakes are nothing special. And cakes are meant to be special, right? Even if you are a Victoria Sponge eater (and I judge you not for your undemanding taste buds) the very name, Victoria (that’s Victoria as in big time monarch of the British empire- wore lots of big dresses) implies special. You don’t want to look at the cake counter and think, yeah well maybe next time. And I do at Mocca. I feel adequately nourished for lunch, and walk away thinking, at least the waistline hasn’t grown.

Two more great places for coffee and more at Blackheath Standard.. With reviews
The Scullery http://wp.me/p2yXJS-gd
Mara interiors http://wp.me/p2yXJS-c7

Mocca Coffee Shop, It replaced Fosters. Easy to tell.
A Review of Moca, coffee shop and deli in Blackheath Standard I have been neglecting Moca: I visit. I eat…