"At Sunday, a rustic cafe in Islington, the clue is in the name. One look at the inevitable weekend queue and you’ll know that it’s the place to go for supersized, fluffy brioche french toast when you can’t be bothered to cook. Wash away any apprehension about the impending week with frothy lattes, and have one last sleepy hurrah—courtesy of a courgette fritter—before Monday hits." - jake missing, rianne shlebak, sinead cranna