Firmly on the Shoreditch circuit, this prominent, stripped-down corner pub is party central, a century or so after its clientele included Jack the Ripper’s last victim enjoying her final drink. Press cuttings and other Ripperana line the stairs to the toilets, but while the current owners have kept the pub’s original tiling (amazing it is, too), they’ve played the alternative card by chucking in busted sofas, ’60s cinema seats and a glitterball.
The market traders of Spitalfields opposite thus avoid it, despite a worthy selection of beers that includes Bombardier, Grolsch, Staropramen and John Smith’s on draught, and Sol, Früli, Budvar and Brooklyn by the bottle. Ask for a glass of wine and you’ll get something equally quaffable. Monday’s quiz nights are taken as seriously as the need to look interesting and imbibe.