Bars & Pubs

By Ben McFarland

Located deep in the bejewelled bowels off Hatton Garden, Ye Olde Mitre is incredibly elusive; the Bin Laden of London boozers, it's known by many but found by few. It was built in 1546 to satisfy the needs of mitre-wearing servants working for the Bishop of Ely, and the tree trunk in the front bar is that of the cherry tree that marked the boundary between the Bishop's and the Crown's land.

Dark wood-clad walls sport portraits of ruffle-collared royals, the beams are low, and the alcoves cosy. There are snug and smug couples and the odd tourist who can't believe their luck. On the pumps are Deuchars IPA, Adnams Bitter, Hop Back Crop Circle and Thatchers Cider. Food plays a mere cameo role with good-value toasted cheese sandwiches, scotch eggs, and sausage rolls. Just as all this sandals-and-socks olde-worlde-ness was getting a bit much, on our visit an off-duty burlesque performer reminisced about once breaking her toe on a midget. Honestly.

Time Out Issue 1965: April 17-23 2008