Don’t worry, no one’s trying to sell any furs, hides or skins here. The bar takes its name from a location opposite the Grade-I listed home of the liveried Skinners’ Company, next to Cannon Street station.
The bar’s virile-sounding name wasn’t chosen to attract those alpha City males - it’s a craft beer bar. City workers deserve great beer too, and here’s the best place in the Square Mile to find it. Little blackboards along the back bar advertise the likes of the über-pure König Pilsener, the dark and treacly Bristol Milk Stout, and the you’ll-feel-that-tomorrow 6.2 percent Lagunitas IPA from California. Cover the fine range by ordering in un-macho halves.
There’s a selection of ‘mountain meats’ – British charcuterie – which satisfies those sort of cravings, and also pizza. They’re big and flat and crisp, and come with a limited range of toppings including New York hot or pepperoni. A generous 12” was enough for two people, and uncomplicated enough to keep the focus on the beer.
It’s a far cry from those giant, slick tanking houses where the champagne corks start popping the second the offices shut, or those ancient hostelries hidden up alleys that are stuffed with brown-pint-swilling suits every lunchtime. Pelt Trader occupies an arch under Cannon Street station with nothing much more than a simple bar, minimal decor and a few tables – but it’s what’s in the kegs that counts, and here the leading indicators are healthy. Rating upgraded to ‘buy’.
Reviewed by Euan Ferguson