Of all the “last bastions of old Soho,” Maison Bertaux has the strongest credentials. As London’s oldest patisserie, it’s been rolling croissants and palmiers since 1871. It wears its age gracefully, in a quietly louche way, like a burlesque house that also happens to serve Earl Grey and chocolate choux buns. Nothing beats a pain au chocolat here, still warm from the oven and filled with chocolatey goo. But everything’s perfect really, from the wobbly citron tarts to the humongous plum danishes, stickier than Scotch Tape. The connoisseur’s choice is the Dijon slice, a cheesy, mustardy thing, as indulgent as a deep-dish pizza, and best enjoyed on a royal blue chair looking out onto Greek Street.

Down the road from The Best Broasted, past all the Brazilian and Syrian spots, sits Edward’s Bakery, a remnant of Willesden High Road’s more monocultural past. The area’s changed a lot since this place opened over a century ago, but locals still come here for anything from birthday cakes to beef and onion pies. It’s a simple, fairly straightforward spot, but fascinating all the same, and probably worth a visit for its wondrous ancient exterior alone. The prehistoric hand-painted sign and gorgeous cedar brown paint job feel as old as a sepia photograph.

A stone’s throw from the fading gravestones and ancient yew trees of St. Mary the Virgin, a slice of 19th century Lewisham still lives on. With its steel Hovis sign and red-and-white-striped awning, H Hirst & Sons would look like the archetypal village bakery if it wasn’t on the busy road to Catford. The Cornish pasties here are golden, roughly-crimped rugby balls of pastry, packed with a delicious beefy hash and enough butter to turn a paper bag see-through. Take one to the churchyard and enjoy it with something else suitably Dickensian, like an Eccles cake, which here tastes somewhere between a cookie and a mince pie.

Of Brick Lane’s two sleepless bagel factories, “the yellow one” is great for people who hate queuing. But what makes Beigel Shop really interesting is the decades-old room it resides in, which is filled with halogen lights, the smell of bread and a never-ending bagel production line. Unlike its neighbour, the place is quiet enough to have room to stand, where visitors can enjoy their meal on a delightful granite strip. While the bagels next door do have more shine, bounce and colour to them, there’s not much in it. Anyway, there’s a wider variety of sweet things at Beigel Shop, like its surprisingly light elephant ears, which are like coiled churros and as sticky as superglue.

The easiest way to enjoy a salt beef bagel is to remove a few chunks of meat first. This doesn’t just make things more stable, it also provides the opportunity to savour the brisket on its own, like a starter. There’s no law against having the salt beef between something other than a bagel either, like two slices of rye, white bread, or poppy-seeded platzel. As with any extremely busy London place, Beigel Bake’s staff don’t suffer fools gladly. But if customers ask quickly and politely, they are more than happy to recommend something to try, such as the crumbly cheesecake, which like everything else here is made on-site. So get a slice of cake and a few bagels to take home, where their caramel-like, tooth-clinging breadiness really becomes clear.

Seconds from Kew Gardens, The Original Maids of Honour is the best kind of tourist trap: a genuinely ancient place, that sells decent food and brings it out quickly. To avoid getting ripped off, order a portion of scones rather than one of the sets, along with a pot of tea. The scones are dainty things, soft and aerated, with just enough structure to bear the weight of clotted cream and jam. But the main draw here is the chintzy interior, decorated with enough ceramic knick-knacks to supply an episode of Antiques Roadshow. The room is over 160 years old, but it feels more like grandma’s house; it’s the perfect place to enjoy a cream tea.

Raab’s has been around since the 1940s, but its current Essex Road premises are slightly younger than that. The place majors on old-fashioned baked things, along with made-to-order sandwiches. This is packed lunch food, so go for something comforting, like the corned beef in a crusty roll, a packet of cheese and onion crisps and a fizzy drink. Maybe a steak bake too. Aside from Raab’s, the best thing around here is Asteys Row Rock Garden, a peaceful place to sit down and eat. After taking a load off underneath the shade of a willow tree, go for a leisurely stroll down The New River Walk to Canonbury.

It doesn’t look like they do much baking at John Forrest Master Baker anymore, as almost everything seems like it’s been made somewhere else. But the place still draws a steady crowd of cabbies, scaffolders and retail workers. Why? Maybe it’s because it’s the only place on the Kings Road that sells inexpensive lunch food and tea in polystyrene cups. John Forrest is newsagent-like, with packaged samosas and Shin Cup noodles sold alongside its ham sandwiches, which are made in the morning and left out. But it does occupy a charming bakery shell, packed with baker figurines and ageing wall tiles. Visit early, when the rolls are fresher and The World’s End Estate catches the morning light.