St Patrick’s weekend celebrates Irish culture, language, and history. An integral part of this is to highlight Ireland’s impact on the countries in its émigrés have found refuge. After all, St Patrick himself was not originally Irish, but a young Welsh farmer who was kidnapped and found himself in foreign lands. Perhaps, then, Jim O’Brien, the Irish-born baker behind Islington’s much-loved Sunflour Bakery, is in some ways simply following in the patron saint’s footsteps.
At 83, Jim travels from Surrey. He spends four hours on his commute and sells crumbly Irish soda bread which is baked at his son’s cafe on Caledonian Road. Young and old, everyone who steps into Sunflour Bakery is greeted with a smile. The bakery has been an Islington favourite since 2013.
Along with the bread that he is proud to boast contains no additives, Jim offers conversation to his customers. His friendly presence transforms the bakery into a destination where everyone is treated like family.
Born in Skibbereen, County Cork during the Second World War, Jim has worked “in every corner of London”.
Jim worked for nearly 30 years in the construction business from 1960 and then spent a decade working as a park ranger in West Croydon— a role he enjoyed the most.
When working as a ranger, Jim dealt with people that were different to what he was used to. He recalls a time he approached a Kurdish group observing Ramadan. He said: “I knew about fasting, so I brought them water and cups after sunset. They were very impressed.”
Jim decided to join his son Paul and daughter-in-law Gabrielle when they bought the bakery in 2013.
“They couldn’t get a bread seller as good as me,” Jim jokes, greeting a customer. “I used to be the best in Britain… I could relate to older people and laugh with younger ones.”
For him, baking is more than a job, it’s a legacy. The bread he sells isn’t just sustenance; it’s the product of a life spent working hard. At 83, he’s still working, with no plans to retire.
His story is one of survival, perseverance, and deep-rooted connections. He’s met actors, politicians and royalty but remains tied to the ordinary people who walk into the bakery.
Jim smiles at the mention of his popularity. “We have a philosophy here, no person is a customer,” he says.
He started working at the age of 13, cleaning metal with acid. “My first ever job,” he says. “Five days, 50 hours a week, and I got paid a pound a week,” he recalls with pride.
Two reasons made him start so young. “It helped to get food. Back then, food was cheap in Ireland. One pound went far.
“My father died in 1957, aged 55- leaving nine of us,” he says. “Five went to England to work, one girl tragically died. We all sent money home to help out.”
At first glance, it’s difficult to understand how varied Jim’s life has been. He’s worked as a scaffolder, park ranger, and a market seller. In the 1960s, when signs reading ‘No Irish, No Dogs, No Blacks’ hung outside pubs, Jim learned to stick together with other marginalised communities.
“We came to work and took the jobs no one else wanted,” explains Jim.
Jim lost both parents at a very young age and his losses continued later in life. Despite losing two sons and his wife within three years he says: “You must get on with life.”
“Every person suffers loss and tragedy,” he continues. “I’m not the only one. Sometimes I meet someone who has gone through worse.”
Jim’s connection to Ireland is complex. “Well, how can I say this philosophically?” he says. “Under holiday brochures, you will see Ireland described as heaven on earth. But for some locals, it was hell because of poverty. We had no money, but we had community.”
“If a woman’s daughter was getting married and couldn’t afford a dress, the whole community would help.”
Jim continues to greet customers warmly. A young mother and daughter enter, and he smiles at the child, making her giggle. His ability to engage with people never fades.
In a world where loneliness is on the rise, Jim is a quiet antidote. His mission, whether through bread or conversation, is to bring people together.
“See happiness, bring happiness, show people you care,” he says, summing up his philosophy.
Jim’s presence is more than just a warm welcome—it’s a reminder of the power of human connection.
Jim is one of many Irish people who left the island but never forgot their connection to home. He also brought with him the values of integration and acceptance that the Irish celebrate on St Patrick’s Day.
