The Great Bakery Divide: When TikTok Meets Gentrification
There’s something undeniably captivating about watching someone bite into a sausage roll and declare it ‘bloody lovely.’ But when that sausage roll costs £14.20 and comes from a ‘gentrified’ bakery in north London, it’s more than just a snack—it’s a cultural moment. TikTok creators like Moses Combe and Kobi Coker are turning their cameras on these upmarket bakeries, and the internet is eating it up. Literally.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how these creators are bridging the gap between two worlds: the ‘old’ London of Greggs and supermarket meal deals, and the ‘new’ London of artisanal bread and £5 lattes. Personally, I think this trend is about more than just food reviews; it’s a commentary on how cities evolve, who gets left behind, and what it means to belong in a rapidly changing neighborhood.
‘Not Quite Greggs’: The Sausage Roll That Started It All
Moses Combe’s viral video at Jolene bakery is a perfect example of this tension. His honest reaction to the tiramisu—‘bloody lovely’—feels refreshingly genuine in a world of curated food reviews. But what’s really striking is his observation that the bakery is ‘not quite Greggs.’ This isn’t just a joke; it’s a cultural marker. Greggs represents affordability, familiarity, and a certain kind of Britishness. Jolene, on the other hand, feels like a different universe.
From my perspective, this comparison highlights a broader issue: gentrification isn’t just about rising rents; it’s about the erosion of shared spaces. When a bakery becomes a symbol of exclusivity, it’s no longer just about the food—it’s about who gets to enjoy it.
The ‘Endz Department for Research’: A Mission to Understand Change
Combe’s ‘Endz Department for Research’ is more than a catchy name; it’s a grassroots effort to document the changes happening in his neighborhood. What many people don’t realize is that gentrification often happens quietly, one trendy café at a time. By crowdfunded his series, Combe is giving a voice to locals who feel left out of the conversation.
This raises a deeper question: Can we celebrate new businesses without ignoring the communities they’re replacing? Kobi Coker’s reviews of Dusty Knuckle and Gail’s touch on this dilemma. He praises the food but acknowledges the mixed feelings gentrification brings. ‘People that made the community what it is aren’t necessarily able to participate in it,’ he says. That’s a powerful statement, and one that deserves more attention.
The Business Perspective: ‘We Want to Welcome Everybody’
Matthew Roberts from Jolene insists their bakery isn’t exclusive, but the price tag tells a different story. Personally, I think this is where the conversation gets complicated. Independent businesses like Jolene and Dusty Knuckle are often caught between two worlds: they want to be inclusive, but their pricing and branding can feel alienating.
One thing that immediately stands out is the contrast between these bakeries and national chains like Greggs. While Greggs has hundreds of outlets, Jolene has just four. This isn’t a David vs. Goliath story; it’s a reminder that small businesses operate on a different scale. But that doesn’t excuse them from addressing accessibility.
The Unfair Comparison: Sustainability vs. Supermarket Deals
Harry Davies from De Beauvoir Deli pushes back against the criticism of their prices, pointing out their commitment to sustainability and fair wages. He’s right—there’s a cost to using free-range meat and paying a living wage. But if you take a step back and think about it, this highlights a systemic issue: why is ethical consumption so expensive?
What this really suggests is that the problem isn’t just gentrified bakeries; it’s a society that undervalues sustainability and fair labor. Davies’s defense of their prices is valid, but it also underscores the privilege required to participate in this kind of consumption.
Beyond Bakeries: Exploring Diversity and Authenticity
Daniel Poon’s viral format—asking strangers for food recommendations—adds another layer to this conversation. His reviews of Pret’s ube drink and other mainstream products reveal a different kind of cultural tension: the adaptation (or appropriation) of global cuisines for Western palates.
In my opinion, this is where the conversation gets really interesting. Poon appreciates the effort to diversify menus, but he also calls out the lack of authenticity. This raises a deeper question: Can we celebrate cultural exchange without erasing its origins?
The Bigger Picture: What This Trend Really Means
What makes this TikTok trend so compelling is its ability to spark conversations about class, culture, and community. It’s not just about bakeries; it’s about who gets to define the identity of a neighborhood. From my perspective, these creators are doing more than reviewing food—they’re challenging us to think critically about the spaces we inhabit.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how these videos humanize a complex issue. Combe’s laughter, Coker’s jokes, and Poon’s curiosity make gentrification feel personal, not abstract. They remind us that behind every trendy café is a community grappling with change.
Final Thoughts: The Sausage Roll as a Metaphor
If you take a step back and think about it, the sausage roll at Jolene is more than just food—it’s a metaphor for the contradictions of modern urban life. It’s delicious, but it’s expensive. It’s inclusive in theory, but exclusive in practice. It’s a symbol of change, but also of resistance.
Personally, I think this trend is a reminder that cities are always evolving, but not everyone gets to evolve with them. As we watch these creators bite into their pastries, we’re not just witnessing a food review—we’re seeing a community grapple with its own identity. And that, in my opinion, is what makes this trend so fascinating.
So the next time you walk past a gentrified bakery, remember: it’s not just about the food. It’s about who’s invited to the table.
