[title]
This is the kind of bar that makes you want to pack up and move to Peckham immediately. In warm weather, El Segundo’s glass doors are thrown open and diners spill out onto the street. Split between two adjoining rooms of a lovely terraced building, it’s snug and buzzy inside, with a little bar, exposed brick walls and a blackboard with the specials scrawled out in chalk.
There are some dangerous sherry-and-rosemary-infused cocktails on offer, but this is a wine bar – so save some room for that, too. Ignore the pernicious myth that ordering rosé makes you basic: the Ontañón Clarete is a pale and sophisticated dream. ‘Full bodied’ is the kind of term you learn so you can pretend you know something about wine, but the Spanish red I tried was the very definition – rich and syrupy (and a bit perfumey).
The tapas here are must-order dishes. Anchovies on toast were oil-drenched and ever-so-slightly metallic; scallops with saffron butter were pricey but worth it; fig, ricotta and pancetta was over-sweet, but looked so sexily continental on the plate it didn’t matter to me.
It’s not that the food or the wine here is particularly earth-moving – but the cosy, uncomplicated informality of El Segundo is seductive. When I left I was so relaxed (slash drunk) I channelled A Tribe Called Quest by forgetting my purse. Three minutes later one of the staff sprinted down the road after me. So move to Peckham, or just visit El Segundo tonight: it’ll charm your pants off.