Newburgh Street has always been the sort of French Riviera of Carnaby. Cobblestones, designers, chatty shop staff, the quaint little French restaurant, the money. But where to relax, grab a bite and enjoy that beautiful, almost Mediterranean air?

There's the little, rather unsatisfying and certainly classless caff in the middle; but frankly I'd rather starve. And sure you can wander round to the plethora of mostly mediocre cafés and eateries that line Beak Street, or descend further into Madam Soho's embrace and set up camp in her satisfying gaffs like The Breakfast Club. But why can't there be somewhere here and now? A reasonable request.

So then there's Canela. Brazilian, unobtrusive, understated, elegant, and perched just on the corner of Newburgh. Whilst there is a cosy, wee basement that winds its way under the neighbouring buildings, why bother when upstairs is such a pleasure.

With two walls of windows Soho becomes the amusing fish bowl that it should be as coffees are supped from the most divine of chromed, retro coffee machines, bellies are filled with all you can eat Portuguese breakfasts (a mere £3.90 during the week) and, of course, what is life without those marvelous Brazilian Balls. Cheesey or Chocolate, it's your call.