French House and the Coach and Horses, restaurants like Vasco and Piero's Pavilion, streets like Old Compton Street and of course the wonderful Maison Bertaux cake shop. I can never walk down Greek St without drooling at the cakes in the window and there is something about the jaunty blue and white stripes that make you feel like a kid again. Of course the delights in the window are chock full of whipped cream, custard, pastry and all that other stuff that we're meant to stay away from these days but screw it, sometimes the only thing that will do is a strong cup of tea and a whopping great piece of cream-cake at Maison Bertaux. What sets MB apart from somewhere like Patisserie Valerie round the corner is that it has a louche edge to it - the art gallery upstairs helps (currently show-casing really cool stuff from wonderfully nutty Noel Fielding...which sort of makes him sound like a cake, most appropriate) plus the clientele often looks like they are either lining their stomachs for, or recovering from, a binge session at the Coach next door. This place is an institution and rightly so.