Gentrification produces many casualties. While long-term residents are priced out certain areas, shops that have long served the community are being shuttered as the character is bled out of our once eclectic high streets, now taken over by copy-and-paste overpriced coffee shops and galleries showing mediocre artwork from 20-somethings whose parents have Wikipedia entries. Each of these losses takes a toll. They accumulate until one so unexpected happens, you know the area you call home is changed forever.
For me, it was the closure of Chinese Chef on Caledonian Road in Islington. This unpretentious Chinese takeaway had served the area for decades. The food was not spectacular, but it was cheap, hearty and filling; a Friday night favourite growing up. You would be served and wait for your food in a space no larger than a bedroom, decked floor-to-ceiling in white paint. There were no proper seats. Instead, you could perch on a hollow row of fitted boxes. I knew the boxes were hollow as my impatient feet would softly kick them while waiting for our food. There were no chefs or even a kitchen in sight.
When an order was ready, the door would open, and an anonymous hand would pass over a bag to the short, slender, grey-haired woman who stood at the till. She worked there for decades and knew my mum by name. Her order – beef curry, chips and egg-fried rice – was known by heart. A decade ago, Chinese Chef was still bustling. You would wait outside on a Friday night as the inside was too packed. Slowly, familiar faces faded in Chinese Chef, as they did in the area overall. The new interlopers shunned the humble takeaway, opting for trendier options in nearby Upper Street or Kings Cross. Before its closure, Chinese Chef was almost always empty. I would still go. Years ago, it would take at least 40 minutes for me to return home with the food. Now it took 20. I was often the only person there. It closed soon after, in late 2019.
This displacement of people and places is done in the name of economic progress. The loss of long-established food businesses is one of the many by-products of gentrification. Food that brought familiarity and comfort are lost for good, while the places that replace them are not made for locals. The businesses that preceded the trendy upstarts were owned by people who wanted to make a living. The cafes and restaurants now in their place make mugs of the people who will spend £4.50 on a watery latte, or £16 on a paltry plate of spaghetti. (Two examples of where I was the mug in question.) Patrons of these establishments are often scared to look locals in the eye but are, arguably, happy to use the multiculturalism and gritty deprivation of our areas as background fodder to their far-removed, main character fantasies.
Not only does gentrification fail to add much of value to locals, it displaces business that do. One of the most egregious examples of this was the closure of All Island Grill in Dalston. The Caribbean takeaway was a focal point for the community. It was reported that they fed the homeless and allowed customers to pay what they could afford. Users on social media said residents from the Fifty Seven East development behind the takeaway complained about grill smoke. Hackney Council soon issued a statement saying the closure was due to the takeaway’s failure to get suitable planning permission, but the feeling within the local community is that the closure of All Island Grill was unjust. Protesters gathered the day after this statement was released to show support for the shuttered takeaway. Peter Snell, the councillor for Dalston ward, told the Hackney Gazette there was no alternative premises for the takeaway to reopen in the area due to the growing popularity of Dalston and resulting price rises.
Traditional British food businesses in working-class London areas have complained about the impact of gentrification on their ability to survive. F. Cooke, a traditional pie and mash shop, opened in 1987 in Hoxton by Joe Cooke. His great grandfather, Robert Cooke, first served this meal in 1862 in and around Shoreditch. Speaking to MyLondon, Joe said, “Gentrification has absolutely slaughtered us.” He added that people “have more options than you can shake a stick at. People don’t want us anymore.”
Across the road from F. Cooke used to sit Percy Ingle, the Greggs of the London and Essex area. The chain had over 50 outlets when it operated and sold an assortment of breads and cakes. My personal favourite was their incredibly messy, rich vanilla cream slice. In June 2020, all Percy Ingle bakeries closed. The pandemic no doubt played a major part in its demise but being largely based in a rapidly gentrifying East London, with rising commercial rents, did not help. Greasy spoon cafes are another British high-street staple at risk. Hospitality expert James Hacon told the Guardian that the number of greasy spoons forced to close in the past few years “is many thousands, maybe even tens of thousands”.
Despite the rise in popularity of non-British cuisines, even these businesses are at risk. The topic of cultural appropriation in food is a heated one. Some dismiss it as politically correct tosh, but the risk is very real for some of London’s diaspora-owned food businesses. Le Bab, a small chain that serves “gourmet” kebabs opened a shop in Old Street in 2020. Modelled after a late-night kebab shop, this branch took over the premises of a long-established Turkish-owned kebab shop, aptly named Turkish Delight. Le Bab, along with Brother Marcus, is yet another white-owned “Middle Eastern-style” chain that serves geographically ambiguous dishes. In fact, many Middle Easterners could not eat a good number of dishes at Le Bab as they contain pork. White Men Can’t Jerk is a white-owned Caribbean-style pop-up with branches in Peckham and Brixton. They reportedly charge £14.50 for jerk chicken and rice: a price point many might call daylight robbery. While these start-ups expand, catering to gentrifiers who want foods from around the world without interacting with the hands that make them, diaspora-owned businesses continue to close at an alarming pace.
All hope is not lost, however. There have been notable victories against those who spearheaded the gentrification of London’s working-class communities. Latin Village, an indoor market in Seven Sisters made up primarily Latin American-owned businesses, has been under threat of demolition since 2004. Food businesses in the market serve dishes like empanadas, caldo de pollo and frijoles. Latin Village was earmarked for demolition by Haringey council under plans for redevelopment in the area, with a view to replacing the market with flats and retail space. After a campaign that involved a High Court case and intervention from the UN, who warned these plans could breach human rights based on racial discrimination, plans for demolition were scrapped indefinitely last year.
There’s more. Last month, Tower Hamlets shocked the political establishment by booting out 21 Labour councillors, handing control of the council to Lutfur Rahman and his Aspire party. The Labour council had been engulfed in controversy surrounding the Truman Brewery redevelopment in Brick Lane, which looked to turn the site into a mixed-use complex. There was warranted concern that this would put the Bangladeshi-owned restaurants and shops at risk of closure, leading to a social cleansing of the area. In his 2022 manifesto, Lutfur Rahman pledged to protect small businesses on Brick Lane affected by the redevelopment of the Truman Brewery. His party went on to win 24 seats.
People from every corner of the world have made London their home. Despite commentary from politicians and right-wing newspaper columnists that immigrants put the livelihoods of hard-working Britons at risk, it appears their home county-hopping sons and daughters are the ones causing real harm to working-class Londoners. Gentrifiers talk of escaping boring towns where the same shops and people will remain until the end of time. This predictability is a privilege not afforded to working-class Londoners, for whom familiar faces and places are ever-fleeting.
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