Let this be recommendation enough: it has become a habit, either around eleven o'clock with an armful of work, or at ten to one as I scramble to meet the 1pm breakfast cut-off, to adjourn to the Waterfront Café, opposite the yachts in the harbour – inside on a poor day, and outside in sunshine.

Other than the location, it was a sign advertising my favourite coffee – Lavazza – that drew me in, but a host of extras that bid me to return.

First, the owner will be extremely pleased to hear, the place is the same whether she is there or not. In this case, this is a good thing.

The staff remain as friendly, obliging and efficient as they were (and as she is herself) before she leaves. They always remember the tap water. The second essential human element, the clientele, is a reliable mix of a few fishermen having conversations about whiting I wish I could join in with, friends of the owner, other locals, and later on, tourists.

This is not a place to go in search of an extensive menu. There is no healthy salad option (though sandwiches come with a salad trim) for example, or main course. But the Waterfront Café, sensibly, does a few things very well: cakes, breakfast (until 1pm), decent tea and coffee, doorstep sandwiches on brown or white and baked potatoes.

The breakfast is what does it for me: despite being Britain's traditionally greasy dish, this one seems somehow clean and therefore permissible. Two rashers, two sausages, a tomato, two eggs, some beans, mushrooms and two slices of extremely thick-cut toast with real butter.

And don't worry about the calories – I saw a programme recently in which Gillian McKeith said a full English breakfast, carefully cooked, contains less calories than a muffin.

The silverware is good and heavy, the trays are kind of cool, the arrangement of mirrors on the way to the loo are very pretty and the place is clean and the atmosphere good humoured.

In a quiet moment, you may see somebody wiping down walls.

I think that about says it all.