Donal Skehan: East London cheer with Marmite, kedgeree, and doughnuts

When I first began travelling to London for work, I’ll be honest I was certainly not a fan. Early-morning flights followed by trudging a suitcase around the endless Tube system only to emerge to an often dark, grey and rainy city made me happy to know the visits were short.

I soon learned that living in London and working there are two very different things. Towards the end of the summer of 2012, while the Olympics were in full swing, I was filming a series close to Shoreditch High Street in east London. The schedule was such that it meant me spending most weekends in the city alone with time to spare. While some may be comfortable with it, I have an aversion to eating out alone, so my summer in London was all about combating this obvious mild case of social anxiety I wasn’t even aware had.

The flat I was renting was in a four-storey high red-brick building on Arnold Circus. My trips up and down the stairs always left me hungry as the smells of deeply spiced curries wafted through the stairwell from the kitchen of the Indian family below me. The flat was conveniently a short walk from Leila's Shop, an effortlessly cool green grocer and cafe whose breakfast menu, due to its location in the outskirts of the city, is one of the best kept secrets London has to offer.

If you aren’t drawn in by the olde worlde seasonal fruit and vegetable display outside, complete with wooden apple boxes and awnings, simple dishes being devoured on zinc metal table tops outside are bound to capture your interest.

Most of my Saturday mornings in London started outside this little cafe with two fried eggs complete with runny yolks, salty prosciutto and gently fried sage leaves, all served in the pan with slices of sourdough toast. While I read the food sections of the Saturday papers and tucked into my breakfast, rather than feeling terribly self-conscious, I began to quite enjoy overhearing the interesting conversations of my fellow diners.

Local mothers giving out about their children, young Londoners filling each other in after a scandalous night on the town, and pug owners discussing the latest in facial hair trends. Social anxiety be damned – I was cured. Though I do now slightly worry about my new issue of breakfast table voyeurism . . . either way, these Englishinspired brunch dishes are always on hand to distract me.