Italians settled Soho in the 1940s, and before they decamped for the suburbs, they installed a set of mod, gleaming coffee bars and cafes. This old-school straggler from 1946 is a haunt of slumming celebrities and artists who, we dare say, must not come for ingratiating service. While this institution is busy all day—making simple sandwiches, delivering pastries, grunting with effort—it swells with revelers after midnight. Even Rome doesn’t have bars that steam, press, and shuffle coffee across the clock with such gusto. “Like everything in this city that Londoners really enjoy, it reminds us of being abroad,” quipped the Guardian. Whatever; it practically leaks hipness.