Bars & Pubs

By Ben McFarland

As Gerry Rafferty once sang of Baker Street, it's got 'So many people, but it's got no soul' and, well, he wasn't wrong. Head west off it and you'll come across this ex-sports pub that had its plasmas and balls removed recently (by renowned restaurateur Claudio Pulze) and is now living life as a slightly androgynous eatery that's part boozer, part brasserie. Green leather pews warm the clean lines and swathes of Scandinavian wood, and there's a nod to the tourist trade in the shape of Toby jugs, china dogs and soda siphons. Outside, chunky wooden tables make for perfect pavement people-watching. The staff are jolly attentive and accommodating, too.

The beer is a little expensive but reassuringly extensive. They've dodged the usual draught selection in favour of local talent with a trio of Meantime beers from Greenwich (Wheat, Helles and Stout) as well as a bespoke honey-tinged Beehive Brew bitter that's blended with mead and brewed at the Brew Wharf in Borough Market. The bottled beer list bulges with the likes of Erdinger Dunkel Weiss, Früli and Duvel - the latter sells for a whopping £6.60. Claudio has kept the grub traditional but while he veers off the pub-food piste with picking platters, pollock and toasted anchovies, it's not really gastro-gear. Hearty breakfasts are served at weekends and the pub is part of the 'Save Our Bacon' campaign to buy British pork.

It attracts a transient crowd consisting of office workers, tourists and a woman who was carrying a trumpet without looking awkward. The only folk in earshot were Swedish, but the expression 'Uppblåsbara Barbara' didn't appear to have anything to do with saunas, flat-pack furniture or even eyebrow-raising arthouse films.

Time Out Issue 1972: June 5-11 2008