London bar reviews

It would be easy to write Dive off as another basement bar, with modern twists on classic cocktails and vinyl records. London certainly has a few. But the real draw is’t the moody interiors or even the drinks, it’s the atmosphere. Dive has the confidence of a members’ club,without any of the eye-rolling exclusivity. It’s the perfect place for an after-dinner cocktail, when you’ll inevitably stay for three. The room is dark, intimate, and straight out of a 1970s nightclub movie scene. Low lighting, shimmering surfaces, plush vintage furnishings which soften the industrial shell, and a curated soundtrack spanning from Prince to Jack J, with soulful grooves and funk so good you’re destined for a boogie. As the evening progresses, the energy shifts from relaxed drinks to a lively late-night crowd, creating the feeling of an after-hours house party. Drinks are inventive without being frivolous, balancing familiar flavours with unexpected twists that reward curiosity. From an intriguing ‘Brioche Martini’ with brown butter and spice to Le Peach, which refreshes the classic Manhattan with fruity wine and bourbon, the bartenders are happy to guide you through the menu. However, as a vodka martini fiend, I wasn’t delighted to see that the holy grail of cocktails was pre-mixed. What makes Dive memorable, though, is its consideration. Every detail, from the soundtrack to the sofas, works together to create a bar that feels genuinely sexy rather than self-consciously cool. Order this...

Bonne Route is a natural wine bar, but before you think that London already has enough of those, note that there’s something particularly alluring about a spot which feels like you’re in someone’s (exceptionally well-furnished) living room. Bonne Route sits in a tiny but cool pocket of Quernmore Road (just past the pedestrian walkway at Harringay train station) and hits all the marks of a good wine bar – solid snacks and a well-chosen selection of white, red, rose, and orange wines – with an atmosphere that’s more cosy than snooty. It’s a cute spot if you nab one of the too-few outdoor tables, but Bonne Route is at its best inside and after dark, when it’s candle-lit and blowing a gale outside. Order this I’ve never been let down by whatever French orange wine is on the menu, but you can also order from the small menu of cocktails. The margarita is always good. Oh, and try the pickled olives. Time Out tip  It’s a cute spot if you nab one of the too-few outdoor tables, but Bonne Route is at its best inside and after dark, when it’s candle-lit and blowing a gale outside.

We’re already huge fans of Hausu, the sassy restaurant inside the former waiting room of Peckham Rye station, with its Victorian tiled loos, complete with original wartime posters about venereal disease. Frankly, the lavs are worth the visit on their own. But now there’s yet another reason to check this place out. Venture up the enticing, mahogany-clad staircase and you’ll also find a beguiling cocktail bar, with inventive drinks, moreish bar snacks and giant vaulted windows from which to gaze upon the building of Peckham’s new public square. Inside it’s a simple but potent set-up; original brick walls are offset by flutteringly sexy red curtains, vintage 1970s classroom chairs, beige walls lined with vinyl and some largely unobtrusive decks in a corner. Yes, it’s another ‘listening bar’, but in this case, it just means you’ll likely hear some very good music (anything from Studio One reggae to winsome folk), which is what all bars should be aiming for, really. Salted daterini tomato martini is a light and elegantly savoury take on the most hyped cocktail around, while the fennel negroni is sweeter than you’d think, offering an ouzo-adjacent burst of aniseed and a pineapple sidecar hums with cognac and a fruity shrub.  Order this  The fennel negroni is barely a negroni at all (which is why I like it). Don’t forget the bar snacks, as these cocktails are potent. Oysters, topped with house hot sauce and lime leaf, are almost a meal in themselves, and on a warm day, sunsweet...

If Salvador Dalí were to design an upscale east London cocktail bar, it might look something like Flipdog. Taking its name from a little-known 17th-century cocktail-making technique involving a red-hot poker – more on that later – this eye-catching venue in Old Street’s Imperial Hall is like a Surrealist painting come to life. Textured metallic walls in the upstairs ‘Drinkery’ make it feel like you’ve been beamed onto an especially stylish spaceship, while Dalí-esque faces and eyeballs adorn the upholstered booths in a low-lit subterranean bar that features chrome surfaces, wooden panelling and liberal use of burnt orange and electric blue. Eclectic, eccentric, yet somehow it really works.  And you might say the same about Flipdog’s drinks. Intended to evoke moments that will be familiar to anyone living in a bustling metropolis like London, the signature cocktail list features concoctions with names like ‘Sunday Roast’ and ‘Morning on the Platform’. There’s real creativity and panache to presentation at Flipdog; the ‘Half Pint’, a sweet, tart, carbonated concoction featuring Johnnie Walker, Nixta corn liqueur, sherry and citra hops, looks every bit like a fancy craft beer, arriving on a beer mat with a head of oat-corn foam, while the warm, dark rum-based ‘Night Cab’ is garnished with an impressively realistic edible leather tag.  And as for that red-hot poker? It’s used to make ‘Morning on the Platform’, a rich, nutty concoction of toasted sesame bourbon, peated Scotch,...

Chiave is a cosy bar that comes with a certain amount of conceptualising, not least the fact that the cocktails on bartender Bilal Tekec’s menu are nominally paired to individual songs (which you can access by QR code). It’s quite fun – I was thrilled when I got the fact that the name of the boldly savory, olive oil centric martini the Spybreak was a reference to a modest successful 1997 single from big beat combo the Propellerheads. Still, the concept never really gets in the way of what is really a fairly simple experience: Tekec’s drinks are on the whole tasteful remixes of tried and tested cocktails. The bar snacks selection is petite but perfectly formed and refuses to get into small plates territory (the fanciest thing on it is the very delicious £10 plate of cream cheese and mushroom truffle sauce crackers). There is, naturally, a nice soundsystem. The staff are extremely friendly. What makes it magical on a hot day is grabbing a seat by the fully open front and just watching backstreet Shoreditch drift by like an unusually trendy Mediterranean country. Chiave is in no way flamboyant, but the vibes are immaculate. Order this Flamenco Sketches – named after a Miles Davis number – is a sensational pomegranate and raspberry-based vodka cocktail-slash-fruit explosion that also comes in a non-alcoholic variety. Time Out tip If the weather’s nice, do anything in your power to get a window seat .

Tucked into the grand, slightly hushed bulk of the Templeton Garden Hotel, a stone’s throw from the busier end of Earl’s Court, Sprout is quainter than its posh address implies. It’s just the one bar table and a single row of seating and tables opposite. Cosy? Yes. Cramped? A little. But the real trick up its sleeve is the gorgeous garden. The interior feels like a beautifully curated potting shed, complete with hand-painted branches and buds creeping along the wall by mural artist Tess Newall. A brilliant chameleon of a spot, Sprout works just as well for killing an hour before a train as it does for settling in to make a proper night of it. The interior feels like a beautifully curated potting shed Every drink is anchored to one specific ingredient, colour or garnish. This season, that star ingredient is the humble tomato, for reasons our waiter is happy to passionately explain. Sprout’s market-stall philosophy sees them highlighting fresh herbs, ripe fruit and vibrant veg. The Gojuchang Cobbler is a case in point, mixing Rémy Martin VSOP, peach, and fiery gochujang, which is then clarified with yoghurt, and capped with a white chocolate disc you’re ordered to eat first. It shouldn’t work, but the tangy yoghurt beautifully tames the heat. By rights white chocolate and chilli should be sickly, but the yoghurt keeps it in check. We soak up some of the booze next door at hotel’s in-house restaurant, Pippins, where padron peppers turn up in a generous bowl alongside a...

While everyone was eagerly awaiting the re-launch of cult Kings Cross boozer McGlynn’s by surprise new owners - acclaimed artist Peter Doig and his gallerist partner Parinaz Mogadassi - the chic pair have covertly opened the best new bar in London.  The drinks offering is deft, impressive and nonchalant Just behind the eerie 24-hour McDonald’s on City Road, in a municipal room that used to be Doig’s studio, you’ll find Tramps Bar. A white-cube space next to the Victoria Miro gallery, it’s fittingly minimal, with an A4 sheet tacked to the heavy door with the bar’s name scribbled in felt tip, seemingly by a five-year-old. Inside there are just a few splashy, modern canvases on the walls and a knotted rug bearing the Tramps logo (Tramps is also the name of Mogadassi’s roving gallery) behind a curvy, freestanding vintage bar. Most imposing of all, are the room’s two mammoth-sized speakers, which allegedly once belonged to Florian Schneider of German electro-pioneers Kraftwerk. DJs occasionally crop up, with the likes of Nabihah Iqbal getting behind the decks, but on our visit, staff had selected a soothing dub playlist.  The drinks offering is deft, impressive and nonchalant. On a weekly changing A4-paper menu you’ll find house martinis, alongside an ‘Arnoldo’ - a tequila-spiked Arnold Palmer, a vermouth and soda with a gilda on the side, as well as wines starting at £9 a glass. Perch yourself on one of the five round tables, at the handful of seats up against the bar or on...

Every week, Deptford has a beloved (if chaotic) market in which the pavements are strewn with all manner of used goods, clothes, tat, records and - oddly - more wellies than you’ve ever seen, stacked like a rubber mountain. The diviest of dive bars At first glance, Big John’s Biltong Bar, on the High Street, looks like the place where the leftovers are swept. The diviest of dive bars, it appears to have collapsed into place or, perhaps, been excavated. The name of the bar is drawn onto the glass with a paint pen, the letters half-heartedly coloured in red.  But heart is what this place has in spades, whether it’s being among customers loudly singing along to a song you don’t recognise, the feeling of immediately being welcome or chatting to New Zealand native Big John himself, who might tell you about playing an Orc in the Lord Of The Rings movies if you’re lucky. The Kiwi’s concept for the bar - beer, cured meat, tat - can’t really be knocked, even if it is culturally confusing. As it was described to me - New Zealand man, Australian meat, South African biltong. Simple? Maybe. Delicious? Absolutely. The meat, served simply on paper trays at the bar, is the work of a real artisan.  Big John’s Biltong Bar is arguably the place that kickstarted the arty, grungy, independent revolution happening in Deptford right now. And in the long term, you can bet on it being the most resistant to change. Let’s hope so. Order this  All of the meats, cured and cooked. Speak to the gaffer...

There are two types of hostelries that open under the name of a long-forgotten business uncovered as-was on a beautiful, beaten-up shop sign during renovations. One crafts a vision based on the found history. The other thinks: ‘yeah, that'll do’. Endeavour is the latter.  Brilliant and weird Inside, it's a Manhattan/Barcelona-style bar - dark, long and unfussy, like two shipping containers arranged end to end. It has high tables at the back and window seats should you wish to gaze on four lanes of Deptford Broadway traffic. Better people watching is found inside. Is that The Cramps over there? Was that Neil Young wearing a wizard’s hat?  Simplicity is everything here. The bar is limited and unfussy - Staropramen at five quid a pint is the thing. There are three individual toilets, each plastered wall and ceiling with graffiti, and no toilet seats to be found. Downstairs from the main bar is a basement performance space, painted scarlet red and smelling mustier than a forgotten gym bag. I found a band playing grebo rock at tinnitus-inducing levels to half a dozen people on a weeknight. The same space is used for weekly comedy night Laugh Bath, which showcases up-and-coming comedians as well as new work by established comics. Other events include a psych night called Can You Dig It, which feels appropriate. Perhaps that name Endeavour isn't accidental after all, because this is a place that just keeps doing its thing - and its thing is brilliant and weird.  Order this A...

Plenty of bars are below ground, reached via narrow, dark, perilously steep staircases, but few subterranean hideaways go so far out of their way to be as welcoming as Lowcountry. Beneath an Old Street corner building that was once a handsome Victorian pub called the Duke of Wellington, Lowcountry is inspired by the American South. That it has a resplendent whiskey selection tracks, but also means it thrives off its own hospitality. Beaming staff, chic boudoir décor, and squealing rock belters on the speakers. But Lowcountry doesn’t rest on its outward charms – its drinks are so boldly, fascinatingly flavoured they can end up blocking out everything else. The seasonally-shifting cocktail menu eye-catchingly name-drops classic American things, from Kool-Aid to banana pudding, and each item is something not just to savour but be actively fascinated by. Popular choice the Jam Sour was a glinting exhibition of different sweetnesses: sharp and silky, tart and creamy. But my standout was the Chow-Chow Martini, crisp and potent with an icy blast of fresh veg. And that’s not even touching on the whiskies, of which Lowcountry has hundreds of bottles. Order this The Banana Pudding Sazerac grabs your nose with a waft of fruit, cloaks your tongue with earthy, vanilla-flecked butter-washed rye, then offers a swift kick up the rear with a dash of absinthe. Time Out tip Visit during the opening hours of street-level restaurant Appalachia, which sends down truly elite bar snacks. The...