'Mary Berry has an aversion to a soggy cake bottom and I have one to a flaccid croissant': London's best baked goods by the people in the know

A few short years ago, if you lived within spitting distance of a Waitrose, the value of your house went up; nowadays, it’s all about how close you live to a Gail’s or, better still, an independent bakery.

Even Greggs is in on the action and its vegan sausage roll continues to make literal headlines. With so much choice, it can be tricky to know where to go when in search of your favourite pastry, so we asked the best people in the know for some recommendations.

What? A blood orange, chocolate and coffee Danish pastry from August Bakery

Who? Emma Hughes

Queues maketh the London It-bakery: Jolene, Toad, Fortitude and The Dusty Knuckle have all built their reputations on fearsome ones.

The phenomenon has now reached Clapham in the form of August — a new bakery brightening up a hitherto unexciting section of Battersea Rise.

It’s only been open since the start of the year, but is already exerting a planetary gravitational pull: there must have been 50 people in front of me on my last Sunday-morning visit.

The pastries are as beautiful and covetable as designer bags, but they never feel as if they’ve been designed chiefly to be photographed (the savoury swirl of Ogleshield cheese, fennel seeds and crispy serrano ham is a work of culinary genius).

My current weekend go-to is the blood orange, chocolate and coffee Danish, a grown-up treat with just enough of a hint of Terry’s to satisfy a nostalgic sweet tooth; it pairs perfectly with a flat white.

If you’re popping in after a dog walk on Clapham Common, look out for the jar of complimentary baked treats for four-legged friends.

Emma Hughes is an author and London Life’s restaurant reviewer

What? A kanelbullar from Bageriet Swedish Bakery

Who? David Ellis

Pubs I adore, restaurants I love, but bakeries? Bakeries I might live without, so long as bread and bagels and crumpets still turned up on supermarket shelves without too much trouble.

The exception to this rule is Bageriet Swedish Bakery in Covent Garden, which seduced me with its exceptional kanelbullar (or Swedish cinnamon bun). It is an ugly name for a beautiful thing. Dough heavy with cardamom — soaked in the stuff — rolled up with cinnamon and studded with sugar.

The cardamom and cinnamon play together like childhood friends: they fight a little, both wanting to be top dog, but, in the end, the result is sweet and sincere. It offers comfort no matter the circumstance. There are other rolls like this available (Fabrique does a good job), but it was here that I had it first and here I shall always return.

David Ellis is a food writer and restaurant critic of ‘The Standard’

What? A steak slice from Greggs

Who? Tom Parker Bowles

As much as I respect and revere all those fine independent London bakeries, it’s the steak bake at Greggs that makes me happiest of all.

I know, I know, it’s a mass produced ultra-processed mouthful, filled with nasty palm oil, emulsifiers, stabilisers and the rest. But that combination of burnished, flaky puff pastry (which I’m pretty sure is not even on speaking terms with real butter), soft beef and rich, savoury gravy that makes it so darned addictive.

Oh, and it’s best eaten fresh from the oven, when the filling is so hot that it strips the skin from the roof of your mouth.

Tom Parker Bowles is a food writer; his latest book ‘Cooking & The Crown’ is out now

What? A Portuguese custard tart from Santa Nata

Who? Gizzi Erskine

These are of a different league. The shell is the lightest, flakiest, perfectly laminated pastry — so crisp, it feels like filo, but buttery and rich, so well cooked. In the middle sits an impossibly oozy custard that pours as you break in through the gloriously golden caramelised lid.

They sell out so quickly that you are nearly always guaranteed to get one fresh out of the oven. I like them a bit hot so they stick to the roof of my mouth. Nowhere else can give you this worldly experience—it’s the business class of the Portuguese custard tart and you’ll struggle to fly economy again.

Gizzi Erskine is a chef and food writer

What? A saffron tea cake from Toad Bakery

Who? Jo Rodgers

My freezer is full of saffron teacakes from Toad bakery in Camberwell, so when the need strikes I can wrap one in foil and pop it in the oven.

It looks like a garden variety, sugar-coated bun, but then you take a bite: it has a rich, surprisingly moist, bright-yellow crumb, studded with raisins. It’s sweet, but not too sweet, and sometimes I’ll add swipes of butter as I go along.

It’s like a cousin to a hot cross bun, but about 1,000 times more delicious. Oh hell, I’ll have to go and dig one out now.

Jo Rodgers is a writer and Country Life contributor

What? Potato sourdough from The Dusty Knuckle

Who? Margot Henderson

Bread, to me, is central to eating a good meal. It sits proudly at the table, ready for use as a vehicle to mop up juices or structure a sandwich, and for love.

My favourite loaf is The Dusty Knuckle’s white potato sourdough. A handsome loaf, arriving still warm in the morning, soft and sticky with a gentle sour flavour, rounded with the flavour of the fermented potato.

Give it 10 minutes in a hot oven and it crackles away, lending it an added sparkle. It shouts for good butter, cheese (perhaps a Westcombe cheddar) and ham — my all-time favourite snack. As the bakery is only up the road from Rochelle, we all start our day sitting together with scrambled eggs and piles of toasted, buttery potato sourdough… oh, they love each other.

Margot Henderson is a chef and co-patron of Rochelle Canteen

What? A plain croissant from Cedric Grolet at The Berkeley

Who? Rosie Paterson

I have one rule in life and that’s that I will never queue for food, because I find the long lines outside London’s mediocre brunch restaurants every Saturday uniquely depressing. I have two exceptions to that rule, however: I will queue for a table at Towpath, in London's N1, and for a plain croissant from Cedric Grolet at The Berkeley.

These croissants are mammoth things, each one the size of an adult fist, and burnished golden in colour, ever-so-slightly darker than your average attempt. They’re also more sturdy (Mary Berry has an aversion to a soggy cake bottom and I have one to a flaccid croissant), all crisp on the outside and buttery fluff on the inside.

M. Grolet’s team line them up in neat rows in the bakery window for you to gaze at as you queue. Yes, it’s full of people trying to take pictures for Instagram; yes, it’s still entirely worth it.

Rosie Paterson is Country Life’s Digital Content Director & Travel Editor