London bar reviews

Since its opening in 2016, the outwardly unassuming Dalston cocktail bar Three Sheets – owned and run by brothers Max and Noel Venning – has become a city-wide favourite, known for the inventiveness and quality of its drinks, which often play on established classics. Unsurprisingly then, for Three Sheets’ second iteration, the Vennings have pulled up in Soho, London’s storied cocktail hub, to launch a new menu of brilliantly re-thought standards upon a more central crowd. While the Dalston spot is narrower and more secret-feeling – maybe a touch cooler, if you really want me to say it – the W1 iteration adapts to its new surroundings. It’s warmer and fancier, all soft, inviting booths and dark wood. So far, so Soho.  The Mezcal Sunset is the grown-up older sister of a tequila sunrise, only more Ibiza than Benidorm In keeping with Soho tradition, you must – once you are installed in your plush seat, or on your bar stool – begin with a martini. The Three Sheets bartenders are seasoned pros, who will make yours however you like it, but the house Dirty Martini is worth a go even if you’re a purist. Done with Belvedere, a little olive oil, and some Koseret tea to take the edge off the booze, it’s a gentler take on the OG, and even those who like the drink blisteringly alcoholic will appreciate the riff. For something more serene as you’re getting settled in, go for Three Sheets’ signature pre-bottled French 75 – a bubbly blend of gin and Chardonnay, plus some lilting botanical e

On first appearances, Harwood Arms is an actual, honest-to-goodness pub, the kind of place where you could wander up to the bar and sink a pint (without drowning in embarassment). It's all warm exposed wood and unfussy British comfort, a cosy, slightly countrified haven on an unlikely Fulham back street. But look a bit more closely at the details – a ritzy ostrich feather lampshade here, a flourish of antlers there – and you'll quickly realise that something a little more elaborate is going on (and that maybe running an iron over your outfit might have been wise). After all, this is London's only Michelin-starred gastropub, and locals and tourists alike will book weeks in advance to worship at the altar of its luxe game-focused menu. The presentation is all fine dining fanciness, the textures are precision-honed, but the flavours are remixed versions of time-honoured British standbys The daily line-up is short and changes often, but it's stuffed with local produce, British flavours, and a pretty-much-guaranteed starring role for venison, treated with a delicacy that contrasts with the chunky boards and plates it's served on. On our visit, a plate of red deer tongue looked as pinkly pretty as a dessert, with its delicate ruby orbs of beetroot and blobs of quince paste offsetting the gaminess of the main event. The goat's cheese and onion tart was more suited to anyone with sentimental feelings about Bambi, but far from the kind of back-of-the-deep-freeze standby your average

Beloved pubs getting turned into blocks of flats is a depressingly common narrative in London. So it’s heartening that Borough’s The Gladstone, having been condemned to the property developer’s wrecking ball in late 2016, reopened six months later, having been declared an asset of community value and taken on by a new team. It's now one of central London's few Indian 'desi pubs' – run by a brother and sister team and with a great Anglo-Indian menu, including Sunday roasts. 

A cosy, speakeasy-esque bar under Soho’s iconic Italian delicatessen.

If you know, you know. You might have walked past the Old China Hand a load of times and not realised quite what a brilliant pub it is. After all, its friendly looking, cream-coloured exterior hardly screams ‘boozer’. One step inside, however, and you realise this place is something special.  It’s hard to say what gives the Old China Hand its vibe. The interior is unfussy, stripped back and wooden. Lighting is low and music remains unobtrusive. The beer, wine and cider selection is surprising and varied. And the owner, Rowena, is a total sweetheart and very hospitable. But the Old China Hand’s appeal is greater than the sum of its parts. Clerkenwell is full of flashy pubs that fill to capacity after work, often becoming deafening hell holes in the process. The Old China Hand, by comparison, is a very fun, very boozy oasis of conviviality and good taste. With lots of tables (including some very iconic barrels), nice outside space and breezily efficient staff, you’re seldom waiting long for a drink or a place to sit. It may bill itself as Clerkenwell’s ‘uncoolest pub’, but the Old China Hand has unforced credibility seeping out of its every unvarnished floorboard. The fact it also has darts only adds to the undeniable kudos. If this was near your house, you’d pop in every day.

To misquote the late Brian Moore, this is a pub of two halves. Upstairs is a cultured, calm and almost sedate dining room, within which nouveau EastEnders tuck into expensive but impressive Modern European cooking. Downstairs in the good-looking pub, built around a handsome central bar, the scene is more boisterous, as easily distracted staff deliver pricey wines and ales to an assortment of vintage-clad creatives who keep the hum of conversation going throughout the night. It’s at its best earlier in the week: Fridays and Saturdays can be uncomfortably frantic, and the flower market on the doorstep means Sundays can be a crush. Keen-eyed sitcom enthusiasts may recognise the Royal Oak from its starring role in Goodnight Sweetheart, although the current owners seem strangely reluctant to advertise the source of the pub’s 15 minutes.

Let’s be real: it’s a Sam Smiths boozer, which formerly signified excellent value but now indicates only middling value, along with bearable beverages. But let’s talk instead of old Louise’s ground-floor saloon, which is truly, incredibly, spectacularly ornate: a warren of Victorian frosted-glass booths, each with direct access to the bar; mirrors; buffed wood panelling; a fire; mosaic floors; florid carpets; and all the other decorative touches you’d ever care to appreciate. Trying to rendezvous with a drinking companion amid the nooks and crannies can prove a bit of a challenge, although it does mean you’ll inevitably have the chance to explore properly. (There’s a simpler, larger room upstairs, but where’s the fun in drinking there?) A preponderance of stools and bright lighting give the Princess a post-work rather than pre-night-out vibe, but much like breakfast, there’s no reason not to make your first pint of the day the most important one. 

Step into The Standard’s bright red bubble lift – complete with creepy robotic voice welcoming you into the building – and you’ll know you’re not in for a normal night. The King's Cross hotel, which is notoriously reliable for celeb-spotting, private parties and being extremely booked up, is now home to a bar called Sweeties. It’s tasteful, boujee, and most importantly: vibey.  Sweeties’s theme is ‘new wave glamour meets glorious misbehaviour’ – and while we’re not entirely sure what that means, there’s certainly something to be said about the sheer naughtiness this place radiates. Another drink, even though you said you’d only stay for one? Go on. A cheeky smile at the guy across the room? Don’t mind if I do. This bar is basically a grown-up, more chic version of Geordie Shore’s Holly Hagan: fun, fit, and flirty.  The snappy drinks menu was created by Zoe Burgess, founder of drinks consultancy AtelierPip, and is pretty much spot-on. The Let’s Go – made with Campari, vermouth, orange, yuzu, mandarin and pink grapefruit – is deliciously bright, with floral-like flavours, while the Kiss Me, made with gin, sour cherry cordial, and lime, is a zingy citrus-tinged mouth storm. All of the classics are available too, of course, with cocktails generally costing from £12 to £16, which feels dangerously good value for ten floors up. Queue your Saturday morning hangover.  The next day, your head will almost definitely be pounding, but the experience will just have been so nice that you’

Denmark Street – once home to various recording studios, music publishers and the very first offices of NME and Melody Maker – has gone through various iterations over the years – in the 1930s it was even known as Little Tokyo, thanks to the number of Japanese businesses there. Many will mourn the latest changes and mega development that Tin Pan Alley and the surrounding area has seen, and it’s safe to say that the arrival of Thirteen probably won’t change the minds of those who miss the days when David Bowie, Black Sabbath and the Sex Pistols would roam this Soho-adjacent road, apocryphally trading riffs with their contemporaries.    Pitching up in the neat wraparound corner building left by the most notorious Jobcentre in London, thanks to it being the one-time workplace of Dennis Nilsen – and rather more happily, Lucian Freud's model and muse Sue Tilley – Thirteen has its heart set on importing a little Mayfair glam and high octane gothic design to this historically and charmingly shonky stretch of road. Denmark Street’s sonic heritage is celebrated in loud murals and decadent red velvet drapes. Plush furnishings, sumptuous booths and low-lighting abounds, and DJs here are a vital feature, especially down in basement club Dial8. This is not the kind of central London bar to visit on a night where anonymity and discretion is needed, but rather one where you’ll glug rock-themed cocktails (called things such as Graceland, Little Lie and Lady Stardust) for around the £14-18 ma

If you like to drink in places where the history’s as important as the booze on offer, the Grade II-listed French House should be on your list. Charles de Gaulle used the pub as a workplace during World War II; Dylan Thomas and Francis Bacon both drank here; Fergus Henderson ran the upstairs dining room right before heading off to start St John...the list goes on.  The interior reflects both the Gallic connection and its long standing in this most exciting of London neighbourhoods. It’s small, memento-filled, and very crowded when the place is busy. You may end up joining the regulars on the pavement outside, but that’s just part of the French House experience. Food is served during the daytime only, and beer, famously, is served only in halves (a tradition that was mercifully resumed after a brief pandemic-related switch to full pints). This is Soho history. Come and drink it in.