Beigel Bake

The Brick Lane beigel bakery - and try saying that three times fast after a night on the town - isn't the kind of place you discover for yourself; you have to be initiated into its mysteries.

My mentor was the captain of the women's football team I play for. Following a five-a-side tournament and post-match drinks, midnight was approaching and she kindly offered me a lift home. Once in the car, she suggested we stop off and purchase some bagels. I agreed willingly, as I was not only peckish but curious - where do you buy bagels in the middle of the night, even in London? I soon learned.

These days, Brick Lane is associated more with Indian cuisine than Jewish baking. But at the far end of the long, restaurant-lined road, beyond Shoreditch tube station, is number 159: 24 Hour Beigel Bake.

It's not much to look at, with its name in crooked letters on a plastic backlit fascia and a beggar or two huddled on the pavement outside. Venture in, though, and you can tell something out of the ordinary is going on.

There's always a queue, sometimes going twice round the shop and at peak hours - such as Sunday lunchtime when everyone's been poking about Brick Lane market - right out of the door. But the efficient staff move customers along quickly, and it's a chance to take a look around and decide on your order.

Peek into the large bakery at the back, where you will see busy people carrying enormous trays packed with bagels - or beigels, as I shall refer to them henceforth for consistency. The trays are lowered into vats of boiling water to cook the beigels in the traditional fashion (they are boiled until cooked on the surface, then baked in the oven).

The fruits of these labours are piled on the counter, behind which two or three assistants in white aprons serve the customers. Most of the staff do not have English as a first language, and it can be hard to understand them. But they always seem to understand you. On most occasions I have been served by an extremely brisk lady who shouts your order to her colleagues at the bakery end of the counter, incidentally teaching you the correct way to pronounce whatever you've asked for.

The beigels are very much the main event, and there's a handy price chart on the wall showing the cost for various quantities, measured in dozens. A single beigel costs 12p, so half a dozen is 72p and one dozen £1.44.

You can also buy plain or onion platzels (like a beigel but a plait shape rather than round), poppy-seed rolls, chola bread (looks like a cottage loaf, tastes very sweet) in large, small or baby size, scary-looking black bread and wholemeal. Loaves cost from 30p to a pound - much less than speciality bread from a supermarket - and are available cut or uncut. (There's a 2p charge for slicing if a pre-cut loaf isn't available.)

If there's one thing better than taking home a bag of fresh beigels, it's eating one straight away. Filled beigels go from 20p for a plain buttered version to £1.10 for hot salt beef. The choice of fillings includes smoked salmon and cream cheese (just 55p), tuna and egg.

There are also trays of delicious-looking cakes, pies and pastries - doughnuts cost 25p, muffins 55p. To complete your meal, they sell a standard selection of bottled and canned soft drinks.

Back to the stars of the show, though. The beigels are a deep brown on top, with a shiny, glossy surface; a result of the boiling, I'd guess. They are slightly smaller in all dimensions than the kind you get in the supermarket, and almost square - you can tell they've been cooked in a batch and separated after baking. And, of course, they have the mandatory hole in the middle.

They are surprisingly chewy, and require a good bite to break the skin. Be reassured that this is nothing to do with their freshness, as they will have been made on the premises a matter of hours ago, but rather another product of the cooking method. Inside they are cream-coloured, of a rough-looking dough that needs a good sharp knife to slice cleanly. They taste slightly sweet and are wonderfully filling.

Beigels will go hard after a couple of days but they freeze well, so buying a dozen or three is a good investment if you have the freezer space. Even a stale beigel is redeemable by toasting - they're great with scrambled eggs.

One disadvantage is the East London location, which is rather out of the way - for me, at least. Brick Lane neighbours the City and is walkable from Liverpool Street station. If you happen to be in the area, perhaps to enjoy a curry or a morning's browsing around the market, take the chance to pop in and stock up.

Although the shop is open and busy all night, you might not want to go there alone in the wee hours - some of the homeless people can be intimidating, as can the City lads rolling home after their triple-strength vindaloos.

It seems incredible that a bakery can thrive in such an unlikely location, and that it keeps its prices so low when Pret A Manger, Bagelmania and even Boots are charging several pounds for a sandwich. Beigel Bake feels like a secret, special place only you have been lucky enough to discover - even when there's a queue out on to the pavement!