Restaurants

Of all London’s quasi-American diners, Tom Conran’s cosy operation feels the most convincing and, though the word is fraught with difficulties, the most authentic. It’s not so much the menu, which contains few surprises. Nor is it the decor, with six green Naugahyde booths set off by an ersatz tin ceiling, vintage rock posters and a funky Pepsi clock. It’s more that Lucky 7 doesn’t wear its theming with pomposity. With regulars dropping by, waiting staff bantering with locals, and the Arcade Fire’s first album playing at a conversation-friendly level – this simply feels like a neighbourhood hangout. Though there are a few salads and sandwiches on the menu, the choice is basically between breakfasts and burgers. In the former category lie such temptations as buttermilk pancakes and huevos rancheros, served until 5pm. In the latter sit hearty, meaty patties caked in supplementary goodies; our fine ‘Kalifornian’ came ladled with cheese, bacon (crispy but not frazzled), sour cream, a roasted half-tomato and fabulous guacamole. The fries and the shakes are only so-so; a short but pleasing list of US beers (Anchor Steam and Brooklyn Lager among them) compensates. You’d want one in your district.

Time Out Eating & Drinking Guide 2009