In case you are wondering about the name, Café Yell derives from Yell clothing boutiques, run by the same owners. It stays true to its origins, visually. The best seats are on a lone booth, second from the counter. Avoid the table right next to the counter though. My chair kept getting jolted by the opening of a cutlery drawer which lies snugly behind it. The menu is much less niche though, sticking to mass-appeal café classics, with an Italian tilt. My 'Caesar Salad' was competently put together with crisp croutons, slightly wilted iceberg lettuce, slices of bacon, tender chicken shreds and a sprig of parsley. It could have done with more scrupulous seasoning though, other than a shower of parmesan. A wooden-slate of 'Garlic Shrimps' was bouncy and scrummy, with or without the 'Sriracha-like Yell Sauce', but could have snipped the bland cherry tomatoes. Café Yell’s 'Pepperoni Pizza' is not going to set Pizza-ramps on fire; but the 'Thin-crust Pie', generously laden with sausage slices, will suffice for most as will the 'Blueberry Cheesecake' – if you do not mind looking past its soggy base and off-the-shelf blueberry topping.
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