Breaking the chain

Henry Hopwood-Phillips goes to see what the Hanover Street branch of Benugo is like before the company builds a new venue in Victoria

enugo. Its one of those meaningless words that branding departments dig, isnt it. Starbucks? That doesnt really mean anything. Costa isnt that a rib? Nero? Not a particularly nice Roman emperor. Pret A Manger means ready to eat but it only gets away with being coherent because its in French and there are more dinosaurs than polyglots in Ingerland. Actually, Benugo is a portmanteau of owners Ben and Hugo. The company started in 1998, slowly but surely dominating the museum market where the n de sicle haute bourgeoisie liked to crouton their carrot soup with a sense of danger in the form of exposed brickwork, stripped wood and industrial ttings. A sort of Shoreditch chic. Some may remember the old service stations that held monopolies on restrooms, microwaved simulacra and sadness along the UKs cement arteries. A few of you may know only of the sanitised cutlery of the slick new bistros and fresh salad though. Its a generational thing. And Benugo feels like the next generation of cafe. Competitors have slightly jaunty tables? Benugos are positively impish, sitting at rakish angles in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Competitors have wallpaper of Buena Vista Social Clubs fun times? Benugo has lights from Japanese oil liners. Competitors have sundried tomatoes in vacuum packed ciabatta? Benugo has its bread specially made for the store the night before, no need for plastic

The company started in 1998, slowly but surely dominating the museum market where the n de sicle haute bourgeoisie liked to crouton their carrot soup with a sense of danger

they think about the environment. When I visit, we are seated in the basement, which has the airs and graces of a frat common room. I half expect the ubiquitous red cup to emerge with some punch in it, thrust into my hands by a Brad or Britney. Theres plenty of empty space, something that only the richest sybarites can afford in London. Impressive. I suspect Apple has advised on the layout, its very iPhone friendly. I have a Muffeletta and a New Yorker. No, I dont know what the former is either; sounds like a sort of turban. The bread tastes as though it scorns other bread for not taking its task seriously enough. The llings (lots of meats, cheeses, salads and garnishes) wobble excitedly all over the place. The large soft triangles clearly deem balance the poor virtue of a bank account or circus performer, not a sandwich. Mince pie slices follow, bludgeoning me to death with crumbly, sugary love: the sort of love that brings on an early, fat, painful death. Girls have a sixth sense for this kind of thing, so my female guest warily shunts the plate over to me with a smile. I dont look at the bill. I hope it was really expensive for everybody elses sake though because if its anywhere near Starbucks prices, entrance should only be granted on evidence of gym membership. 11-12 Hanover Street, W1S 1YQ. The Victoria branch of Benugo is coming to 62 Buckingham Gate (benugo.com)

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