PAUL Baker Street

You're rushing through Baker Street, probably heading to Sherlock Holmes' gaff round the corner, when you catch the smell of butter and fresh bread. That's PAUL. It's a proper French operation—the kind where they've actually thought about their croissants rather than just thawing them. The sandwiches are assembled with care: decent bread, quality fillings, nothing pretentious but nothing phoned in either. It's busy, genuinely busy, which tells you something. You'll find suits grabbing breakfast, tourists after an actual French experience, and locals who've clocked that this beats the chain café dross nearby. The space itself is clean and bright, all pale wood and glass—very Parisian-lite without feeling forced.