Unlimited Prosecco and Pizza Model Continues to Thrive as Economic Conditions Make It More Appealing
By Harper-Thames | Shore Roar
I want to take seriously, for a moment, the bottomless brunch phenomenon that Shoreditch has been incubating for approximately a decade and that shows no signs of declining despite the predictions of people who thought unlimited prosecco as a business model would be a temporary thing. Ballie Ballerson, the ball pit cocktail bar on Old Street, is running its epic day party with two hours of unlimited prosecco and unlimited pizza and over a million balls, which is either the apotheosis of the format or a description that sounds like something a child made up but is a real event that adults pay real money to attend and by all reports enjoy.
The Economic Logic
The bottomless brunch makes economic sense from multiple perspectives. For the venue: a fixed-price format with predictable costs, customers who are committed to staying for the duration of their booking, and the specific consumer behaviour that emerges when people have pre-paid for unlimited drinks, which is that they drink more than they would if paying per drink and feel better about doing so because the incremental cost is zero. For the customer: a fixed-cost social event that eliminates the anxiety of the running tab, creates a shared activity that is more structured than a normal lunch but less formal than a sit-down dinner, and provides the prosecco that makes the social event work.
In the current economic environment, where discretionary spending is under pressure but social connection is a priority that people are unwilling to reduce, the bottomless brunch occupies the specific market position of being genuinely enjoyable without being prohibitively expensive, which is where the East London hospitality sector needs to position its offer if it wants to serve the people who actually live here rather than only the people who visit for the weekend.
The Formats: Varied
Shoreditch’s bottomless brunch landscape includes themes ranging from Miami-inspired sessions at Shuffle Club’s competitive gaming venue, to drag and burlesque performances at various spots along Old Street, to Nashville country brunch at Red Dog Saloon with live music and bourbon, to the genre-spanning Saturday parties at Supa Dupa Fly. The format accommodates nearly any theme because the format itself is the product and the theme is the differentiation, which is either evidence of the format’s flexibility or evidence that people primarily want the unlimited drinks and will accept the theme as the price of access. Both, probably.
Harper-Thames writes about Shoreditch from the perspective of someone who arrived recently enough to find it extraordinary and has been here long enough to find it complicated. The neighbourhood is both the cliche and the real thing simultaneously: yes, there are bottomless brunches and tech startups and overpriced flat whites. Also: genuine creative energy, cultural diversity, architectural interest, and the specific quality of a place that is making itself up as it goes along, which is either exhausting or exciting depending on what you need from where you live. Harper-Thames finds it mostly exciting, which is why she keeps writing about it. For Shoreditch events, see Time Out London. For East London nightlife, visit DesignMyNight. For Shoreditch arts and culture, see Evening Standard.
Harper-Thames arrived in Shoreditch three years ago from a city that she will not name because naming it produces a specific kind of conversation she is tired of having, and found what she was looking for, which was a neighbourhood that rewarded paying attention. She has been paying attention since, and writing about what she finds, which is more interesting and more complicated and more worth writing about than the media narrative of Shoreditch-as-startup-playground captures. The startup playground is real. So is the arts scene, the community history, the music venues, the food markets, the people who have been here for forty years and the people who arrived last month. She is interested in all of them, which is why Shore Roar covers Shoreditch in the plural rather than the singular.
Harper-Thames arrived in Shoreditch three years ago from a city that she will not name because naming it produces a specific kind of conversation she is tired of having, and found what she was looking for, which was a neighbourhood that rewarded paying attention. She has been paying attention since, and writing about what she finds, which is more interesting and more complicated and more worth writing about than the media narrative of Shoreditch-as-startup-playground captures. The startup playground is real. So is the arts scene, the community history, the music venues, the food markets, the people who have been here for forty years and the people who arrived last month. She is interested in all of them, which is why Shore Roar covers Shoreditch in the plural rather than the singular.
Harper-Thames arrived in Shoreditch three years ago from a city that she will not name because naming it produces a specific kind of conversation she is tired of having, and found what she was looking for, which was a neighbourhood that rewarded paying attention. She has been paying attention since, and writing about what she finds, which is more interesting and more complicated and more worth writing about than the media narrative of Shoreditch-as-startup-playground captures. The startup playground is real. So is the arts scene, the community history, the music venues, the food markets, the people who have been here for forty years and the people who arrived last month. She is interested in all of them, which is why Shore Roar covers Shoreditch in the plural rather than the singular.
