Bars & Pubs

By Guy Dimond

This is a feelgood gastropub. Walk in, and the staff are all smiles; they engage you immediately, and your order arrives promptly. It’s easy to get talking your cargo-pants-wearing neighbours, if you’re sharing a table, as we were. The sun streams in the windows; there are picnic tables outdoors on Chapel Market.

The owners stress that it’s not a gastropub, but a ‘pub and kitchen’. As the term ‘gastropub’ now covers a range of sins from chain pubs with bought-in food to smart restaurants pretending to be pubs, this one has gone back to its roots. It’s reminiscent of The Eagle when it started in the early 1990s – a lot of passion and creativity, Iberian-accented dishes, some rough edges, but above all a pub first, that also does good food.

The rotating line-up of beers will keep your CAMRA chums happy. These might include the Whitstable Brewery’s hoppy East India Pale Ale, or Triple fff brewery’s Alton’s Pride, a golden brown session beer. The wines by the glass are also unusually good and well-priced, and include a good-value, minerally grüner veltliner from Austria, and a light-bodied pinot noir from Patagonia, most of them in the £4-£6 range for a 175ml glass.

Fabada, originally from Asturias in the north of Spain, is a hearty stew of white beans, pork, and black pudding. Compass’s version hit the spot, warming and full-flavoured, with a baked egg on top. Rabbit terrine was made on the premises, though the confit of rabbit it contained was suprisingly pallid and chicken-like. It’s not just the charcuterie that’s made on site: apparently they do all their own curing, pickling, and butchery. Blimey.

Chef Ben Bishop is keen on good provenance (he’s ex-Duke of Cambridge), and the meats used are from non-intensive farming. The bread was certainly own-made (and good too). Puddings include a strawberry eton mess, and a vanilla, Earl Grey and prune crème brûlée, all at £4.

The bar snacks are excellent too. Our French neighbour even shared his delicious snails and slow-cooked sweet, tender garlic, he was so enthusiastic about them; we’d already scoffed our dishes by that stage, so were unable to reciprocate.

Time Out London Issue 2034: August 13-19 2009