Following the Smell of Fresh Coffee Into the Friendly Confines of London Church Cafes

It was colder than usual that December and a wisp of snow had begun to fall in the heart of London. As I hurried along Piccadilly, my collar turned against the wind, I saw a sign on the iron gate of St. James’s church:

“Carol Service Today: All Welcome.”

The tall, arched windows of this 17th-Century church are filled with light. I knew I would find warmth within its walls. I did not yet know that I would also find rhubarb pie. The church was packed by the time the choir led off with an English standard: “The Holly and the Ivy.” Midway in the second verse, a wobbly chap with wine-red cheeks came down the aisle.

He leaned on my pew and sang lustily . . . albeit three words behind the rest of the congregation. After the last “amen,” he bowed to his neighbors and disappeared toward Jermyn Street.

As I braced to go outside, I caught a whiff of fresh-brewed coffee and followed the scent into an adjoining room. It was the Wren Cafe, a church-owned eatery named for Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of St. Paul’s Cathedral and 51 other London churches, including St. James’s in 1676.

Behind the counter, a blond woman with a cherubic face pointed to a deep-dish rhubarb pie, hot from the oven. With that and a mug of steaming cappuccino, I settled in to survey the muffler-wrapped crowd.

At a corner table, and now quiet, sat the tipsy tenor, fortifying himself with coffee. “All Welcome” the sign had said.

The Wren is open every day of the year, starting with breakfast and serving straight through supper. It is one of the jolliest of London church cafes, a neighborly trend that calls up cheery memories of old-time church suppers.

The fare is simple, wholesome and reasonably priced. Homemade soups, breads and pies are typical, as are sausage plates and salads. Many are self-serve. “We’re rather like a pub,” a Wren staffer told me. “You know, relaxed and friendly. We have lots of regulars who live or work around here.”

Even more like a pub is the Cafe in the Crypt at St. Martin-in-the-Fields, which is licensed to serve wine and beer, just steps from Trafalgar Square. I particularly like the Crypt in the evening when votive candles flicker against the brick walls, and baroque music wafts through the vault.

It is close enough to West End theaters to make it a comfortable stop for a pre-theater snack. It is also known for homemade ice creams and an espresso bar that operates from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m.

Church cafes are convenient for travelers because they are near major tourist destinations. Most have strong links to history.

Among my favorites are The Refectory lunchroom at All Hallows by the Tower, uphill from the Tower of London; the Place Below at St. Mary-le-Bow in Cheapside, which offers a hearty vegetarian menu in the famed “Bow Bells” Cockney neighborhood, and the Chapter House restaurant--with table service and a more sophisticated menu and wine list than the others--next to Southwark Cathedral in Shakespeare’s London on the south bank of the Thames.

The Chapter House, a stylish room of blond brick and religious art, was officially opened by Queen Elizabeth in 1988.

The restaurant serves lunch and tea, Monday through Friday, with tables arranged both indoors and out, on clement days. While many London churches are catching the coffeehouse spirit, the biggest of all has resisted: St. Paul’s Cathedral has no restaurant. Locals and visitors bring brown-bag snacks and perch in the gardens or on the great front steps.