Oat, Brick Lane

https://www.oatcoffee.com
OAT - 154 Bricklane, E1 6RU
Like an artery between Spitalfields and Hoxton, Brick Lane spills bloody points of interest all over the place. So often clogged with the fatty cholesterol of hipsters clotting around the vintage clothing stores, antiques markets, and IPA serving bars, its constantly refreshed retailers scab and flake away from time to time but the DNA remains the same. I’m here on a work do, dragged into the recesses of a bowling alley at the start of the afternoon to experience the joys of unnatural light and your colleagues drinking from midday whilst you go for a cigarette every 20 minutes just to remind myself what sunlight looks like.
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Stepping out, bleary-eyed, and blinking into the day - almost directly across from the All Star Lanes, on the corner of Buxton Street and Brick Lane, OAT stands as a beacon of caffeinated reprieve. The bright green tile work covered in stickers and flyers, bench seats jutting out from the wall as if rammed in at a right angle as a sort of afterthought, it is a welcome sight to my tired eyes and flagging mind. I can’t do all day drinking anymore, partially because I don’t drink. But even without imbibing alcohol, I can’t mentally cope with a full day of being out in bars with those who are on the booze. Conversation becomes a little sloppy and drama heightened, so this welcome oasis of coffee where I slip away to for five minutes to stand calmly, quietly and just order a nice, smooth coffee is…bliss.

The checkered flooring, shiny chrome equipment and doodles on the back wall all scream peak coffee shop. You can brunch here, without question, and I try to take as much in as possible in my wavering state of mind. Pastries litter the front of the serving area and, despite it being my first time, I’m confident I can get alternative milk here - It’s called OAT for goodness sake.

My coffee, an oat latte (of course), is sweet, like really sweet for a drink with no sugar in. Not unpleasantly so, but it’s rare you get a coffee that bright without adding something to it and I haven’t had one like that since the days of the now defunct Taylor Street Baristas, who used to have warnings on the tables telling you to try your coffee before adding sugar. The oat milk does a lot for this but the coffee beneath is carrying a juicy, fruitiness forward and it’s exactly what my dilapidated aura needs right now. 

To say I am now sprightly would be misleading, but I ready myself for trails around Shoreditch pubs and karaoke bars that I may otherwise have baulked at. To find a spot for oneself in a day meant for others can be quite cheering.