Maltby Street Market: Ropewalk Stalls and What to Eat

Walk into Maltby Street Market on a Saturday morning and you’ll feel like you’ve stumbled into a secret. Tucked under the railway arches near London Bridge, this isn’t the polished, tourist-heavy market you find in Covent Garden. It’s raw, real, and packed with people who know exactly where to find the best sourdough, the crispiest pork belly, or the most unusual jam you’ve ever tasted.

The Ropewalk Stalls: Where the Real Food Lives

The heart of Maltby Street isn’t the big branded shops or the coffee chains. It’s the Ropewalk Stalls - a line of narrow, industrial-style units running along the east side of the market. These aren’t pop-ups. Most of these vendors have been here since the market reopened in 2011, after years of neglect. They’re the ones who showed up early, hauled in their own tables, and stayed through rain, cold, and slow weekends.

Each stall has a signature. No one tries to be everything. That’s the rule here. You won’t find a stall selling tacos, ramen, and vegan cupcakes all in one. Instead, you’ll find St. John Bread and Wine serving their famous burnt butter toast with anchovies and capers - simple, bold, and unforgettable. Or Padella, which started as a tiny pasta stall and now draws lines out the door for their tagliatelle al ragù. Their sauce simmers for 12 hours. You can taste the patience.

Then there’s Clay Ovens, where bakers use wood-fired ovens built into the stall itself. Their sourdough loaves crackle when you break them. The crust is thick, the crumb is open and airy, and the flavor is earthy, almost like the soil it came from. Buy one fresh, and you’ll understand why people wait 45 minutes just for a slice.

What to Eat: A Real Food Guide

If you’re new here, don’t just wander. Follow your nose - and this list.

• Pork belly bao from Bao - steamed buns filled with slow-cooked pork, pickled mustard greens, and hoisin. It’s messy. It’s perfect. Eat it standing up.
• Hand-rolled ravioli from La Tua Pasta - filled with ricotta and spinach, tossed in brown butter and sage. They make them fresh every hour. You can watch them roll the dough through a hand-cranked machine.
• Seafood platter from Barrafina - grilled mackerel, scallops with yuzu, and oysters on the half-shell. The oysters come from Cornwall, shucked minutes before you order.
• Chocolate croissant from Leila’s - flaky, buttery, and filled with dark Valrhona chocolate. It’s not the biggest, but it’s the most intense. One bite and you’ll skip lunch.
• Spiced lamb kebabs from Shawarma House - marinated overnight in cumin, sumac, and garlic. Served with flatbread and tahini sauce that’s made daily. No one else here does kebabs like this.

Don’t forget the drinks. Two Sisters Coffee roasts their beans on-site. Their cold brew is smooth, not bitter. Little Wine Co. pours natural wines from small French and Italian vineyards - no additives, no filtration. Try the orange wine. It tastes like dried apricots and wet stones.

When to Go: Timing Matters

Maltby Street isn’t open every day. It’s only Saturday and Sunday, from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. But not all stalls open at the same time. Some, like Clay Ovens, sell out by noon. Others, like Barrafina, don’t start serving until 11 a.m.

Best time? Arrive between 9:15 and 9:45 a.m. You’ll beat the crowds, get the freshest bread, and still have time to sit at one of the picnic tables under the arches. If you come after 12:30 p.m., you’ll be fighting for space. The queues for pork belly bao can stretch past the coffee cart.

Weekdays? Skip it. The market is closed. But if you’re in the area on a Friday, Padella opens for dinner. That’s when the locals go.

What You Won’t Find

There’s no branded merch. No fake artisanal soap. No overpriced candles. No selfie spots with neon signs. This isn’t a theme park. It’s a food market built by cooks, bakers, and farmers who care about what they’re selling.

You won’t find vegan ice cream made from coconut milk and cashews. But you will find Mr. Whippy - a tiny stall serving real vanilla ice cream, churned in an old-fashioned machine, topped with crushed hazelnuts and dark chocolate. It costs £3.50. It’s the best £3.50 you’ll spend in London.

And you won’t find plastic packaging. Most vendors use paper, cardboard, or reusable containers. Bring your own bag if you’re buying bread or cheese. They’ll thank you.

Why It Still Works

Maltby Street isn’t fancy. The floors are concrete. The lighting is fluorescent. The toilets are shared and always a little damp. But that’s the point. It’s not trying to be Instagram-perfect. It’s trying to be real.

Every vendor here has a story. The guy who makes the jam uses fruit from his brother’s orchard in Kent. The woman who bakes the sourdough used to work in a Michelin-starred kitchen in Paris. She left because she wanted to make bread for people, not for awards.

There’s no marketing team. No influencer partnerships. No corporate sponsors. The market survives because people keep coming back - not because it’s trendy, but because it’s honest.

That’s why it’s still here. While other markets got bought out, turned into photo ops, and lost their soul, Maltby Street stayed true. The Ropewalk Stalls haven’t changed much since 2011. And that’s exactly why you should go.

How to Get There

It’s easy. Take the Tube to London Bridge station. Exit onto Tooley Street. Walk south for five minutes. You’ll see the railway arches. The market is under them, on the left. There’s no sign. Just follow the smell of coffee and roasting meat.

There’s no parking. Don’t drive. The streets around it are narrow and full of delivery vans. Take the Tube. Walk. Or cycle. There’s a bike rack right at the entrance.