Bars & Pubs

By Euan Ferguson

The Orange bills itself as a ‘public house’, but stretches the definition of what you can get away with calling a pub.

True, there is a bar, over which pints of beer are served, but from the potted orange trees outside to the stylish, low-key decor, everything is so elegant and proper that those seeking a bit of intoxicated bonhomie would be best to go somewhere else.

That said, this is SW1, and set as it is on a street filled with Bentleys, stately antique shops and high-end boutiques, The Orange fits right in.

There was a convivial buzz when we visited on a Thursday evening, and the upstairs dining room was fully booked.

It’s a warm, welcoming and very woody space, with stripped architraves, bare floorboards and a huge period mirror above an open fireplace.

The new owners, whose empire already includes the fêted Pantechnicon Rooms and the Thomas Cubitt (both in Belgravia), have clearly dug deep for their recent refurbishment. There are also a few bedrooms, starting at a reasonable £155 for B&B.

In its previous life as The Orange Brewery, the pub enjoyed a great reputation for the beers from its cellar microbrewery, which, sadly, has been removed. There is now, however, a decent range of ales on tap by way of compensation, including the too-rarely seen Harvey’s Best from Lewes and the Edinburgh session sipper Deuchars IPA.

Although there were only a couple of tables occupied when we arrived, a steady stream of expectant customers clutching half-drunk pints and glasses of wine made their way from the bar into the twilit room.

They were every bit as up-at-heel as you’d expect in Pimlico – a lot of shirt-jean-brogue combos and a few prospects for Tory Party selectors.

But don’t worry – The Orange is distractingly handsome enough for you not to notice. And good cooking is good cooking, whether in Pimlico or Peckham.

The menu could be described as Modern European, leaning towards British and Italian. Dishes such as a starter of wood-roasted wild mushrooms or the more substantial wild boar, chestnut and chorizo stew suited the gathering autumn outside perfectly, and there wasn’t a gratuitous mention of the word ‘seasonal’ anywhere.

Our starter of potted duck arrived in a French kilner jar with plum chutney, watercress and toast; the chunks of tender fowl were flavoured with green peppercorns and thyme.

Salt cod croquettes were simple but satisfying, with crisp crust and smooth filling, and were served with a lemon aioli that looked and tasted homemade.

The kitchen makes full use of its wood-fired oven, so we ordered a pizza to pitch it against the high standards of another recent new restaurant, Pizza East in Shoreditch.

Although it’s not trying to compete in terms of authenticity (there’s a Cumberland sausage, fennel and manchego cheese version), it was still a winner: a crisp base, rich tomato sauce and garlicky marinated prawns.

Our other main was a butterflied leg of lamb, chargrilled with oregano, garlic and cherry tomatoes and a jus of inky depth.

The meat was perfectly pink in the middle and satisfyingly black and crusty on the outside; it could have done with a side dish for variation, if not satiation – it was a generous portion, but the wood-roasted butternut squash with sage and chilli (£3.50) looked tempting.

Despite then leaving it a good 20 minutes over the end of our bottle of perfumed, citrussy Gascon colombard blend (from a sensibly priced list drawn solely from France, Italy and Spain), we couldn’t muster up the room for a dessert; the chocolate cherry cake with pistachio ice cream will be safe until our next visit.

Service throughout was personable, polite and efficient; our wobbly table was fixed with minimum fuss.

After the meal, we moved through to a delightful side room filled with antique sofas for a beer
(a hoppy Helles from Meantime), looking out at the heritage lampposts and mature trees of Ebury Square.

On our visit, The Orange got just about everything spot on. Along with the Princess of Shoreditch, it’s a late contender for gastropub opening of the year.

Time Out London Issue 2048: November 19-25 2009