The most-loved bars and pubs in London

Bar Flor is laden with loveliness. You’d expect little else from Aaron Potter and Laura Hart, the chef and interior stylist duo who gave us the ever-so-elegant Wildflowers. One floor above that restaurant is Bar Flor, which comes complete with whimsically hand-painted walls, reminiscent of the interiors of Charleston House, pale wood finishes, cosy velvet-clad pews and gentle, romantic light.  Bar Flor bills itself as a more playful, more spontaneous sister (the Type-B sibling, if you will) to the pristine Type-A restaurant below. The menu is Basque-country inspired – a copious lineup of European wines, vermouths and sherries alongside lager, Basque ciders and cocktails, complemented by a snappy selection of pintxos.  I was pulled towards the cocktails, which range from the house Adonis, made up of Cocchi Torino vermouth, Manzanilla sherry and a dash of orange bitters, to the luxuriously smoky Flor Margarita. Plates of dangerously moreish bar snacks filled the table throughout the evening, arranged on pretty floral plates that look like they’ve been pulled from a Spanish abuela’s kitchen cupboards. Dishes change on a weekly basis, but standouts on the night we visited included the delicate triangles of cave-aged manchego doused in honey, as well as shudderingly salty, briny gildas and (the showstopper) a fried calamari sandwich with garlic aioli oozing over the edges of the crusty bun.  Order this I couldn’t keep my hands off Bar Flor’s Peschiole Martini – a sugary, tangy...

In recent years this brick and timber 1930s boozer has become south east London’s favourite unofficial queer venue, thanks to an array of campy entertainment including drag and cabaret, plus queer speed-dating events and nights like Flapjack and Pop-Up Dyke Bar. Drinkers and diners are also all happy here; the former get a sterling selection of cask and craft ales, plus cocktails and an acceptable wine list. The latter get a menu that changes regularly, depending on the pop-up kitchen, plus hefty Sunday roasts. There’s plenty of seating: at large wooden tables next to the central bar, in the back garden and in the front yard facing Nunhead Green. It might also be the only pub in London with a shrine to Britney Spears. And the name? A nunnery once occuped this site; the rebellious Mother Superior was murdered during the Reformation and her head stuck on a pikestaff on the green. Lovely stuff!

One of London’s cosiest LGBT+ boozers. Just off the main Columbia Road drag, its Sunday roasts are pretty special (served from 12-5pm, with booking recommended) - as is the impressive, and every so slightly NSFW wall-art of various hand-drawn, cartoon genitals. There’s also drag queen-hosted karaoke every Saturday night from 8pm. Wetherspoons it certainly ain’t.

Rare is the pub that opens at 8am and isn’t around the corner from an early morning meat market (or a Wetherspoons). The Angel – which is from the same team as Highgate’s primo gastropub the Red Lion & Sun – is bucking the trend with a classy breakfast bistro offering, before easing punters into lunchtime wine and evening feasts (though not on Sun-Tue, when it shuts up shop at 6pm - they’re not maniacs). Booze begins at 10am, if you’re wondering, with a kimchi bloody mary one of the more acceptable pre-lunch libations on offer.  Formerly the unremarkable Angel Inn, the Angel relaunched in 2025 on a prominent corner of the quaint Highgate High Street, well aware that it needed to offer something different in an area already packed with exceptional pubs. Despite being super close to the aforementioned Red Lion & Sun, ever-popular Flask, cosy Prince of Wales and Americana-themed Dukes of Highgate, the Angel stands out. Airy and bright, the space feels more like a Parisian brasserie than a north London boozer, with classy touches such as elegant fairground-styled painted logos for your pints rather than ugly branded pump clips. Kippers, full english brekkies and a selection of pastries are available until 5pm, after which the evening menu kicks in, with the likes of bavette steak and chips, confit duck leg, and Wagyu double cheeseburger up for grabs. But this isn’t one of the gastropubs where you’ll be sneered at for only ordering booze - from what we can see on our visit,...

This Soho institution may have mellowed somewhat since self-proclaimed ‘London’s rudest landlord’ Norman Balon finally hung up his polishing cloth in 2006, but there’s still plenty to make it stand out from the crowd, including a rotating cast of excellent independent ales and their own line of merch. Decor, meanwhile, is stuck firmly in the past, with carpets worn threadbare by decades of post-work sessions as well as wood-pannelled walls from the 1970s, and vintage logos of Double Diamond and Ind Coop displayed behind the bar. It all adds up to a curious mix of old-timey standards and progressive ideas which, crucially, work together like a charm.  Time Out tip They might not serve food, but they do have an impeccable array of crisps aka ‘London's greatest tuckshop’. Make ours a bag of pickled onion Monster Munch. 

Keep your eyes peeled for this one: it’s sunk beneath Greek Street, accessed through a dodgy-looking doorway and a seriously scruffy staircase. If there’s a less salubrious introduction to a bar in London then, well, we’d like to see it. These days, the term ‘speakeasy’ is bandied about with reckless abandon by bar owners desperate to adorn their venue with an elusive, exclusive and illicit allure yet few are the genuine McCoy – not least because if you’re shouting about what you’re doing, then you’re not a genuine speakeasy. This old school drinking den and members club, however, is refreshingly free of any such affectation. Known as Trisha’s, due to the leading lady of the venue, Trisha Bergonzi, there’s a small bar, a scattering of tables and chairs and pictures of boxers, mafia types and Italian football teams adorning the worn walls. There’s a very small courtyard out the back and only one proper lavatory. It looks like the kind of place where someone would get whacked in ‘The Sopranos’. True to a real speakeasy, the drink selection is pretty average. There are some bottled beers, a couple of wines and a quite random selection of spirits. The New Evaristo Club has some very devoted regulars. If they aren't entertainment enough, there are some jazz nights.

The Shakespeares Head may look a little daunting from the outside. Don’t be shy: this salt-of-the-earth local extends a warm welcome to all. It’s hard to imagine a pub with fewer pretensions than this place, done out in gloss-painted wood, standard-issue pub carpets and plump seating. But this old-school boozer is made notable by the people in it: the staff, for whom nothing is too much trouble; and the clientele, an easygoing mix of theatregoers (Sadler’s Wells is steps away) and talkative locals who’ve been drinking here since their dads brought them in for a pint on their 18th birthday. It’s a mix mimicked on the walls, where signed photos of thesps and hoofers jostle for attention with the pictures of the locals out on a jolly. Quite a treasure, in its way.

It might look like a classic London pub from the outside, all Britain in Bloom-worthy hanging baskets and an extremely pub-like name picked out in gold lettering, but the Camberwell Arms is not a place to watch the footie or sink eight pints and waddle home semi-conscious (maybe try the Hermits Cave across the road for such tomfoolery). Locals have known this for the past decade, ever since the grand Victorian boozer was given a serious sprucing up in 2014 under the auspices of chef director Mike Davies. Mike had form; starting out at one of south London’s original gastropubs, the Anchor & Hope in Waterloo, before setting up another south London institution, the much-loved hipster HQ that is Frank’s rooftop bar in Peckham.  ‘Sublime’ doesn’t even begin to do it justice. It is nothing less than art Since then, the Camberwell Arms has remained the very picture of modesty. Settle into the spacious back room, an airy but still-intimate space, and the lack of fanfare (stripped wooden floorboards and the occasional stylish print is about as close to grandiose design as it gets here) only goes to prove how confident they are in the quality of the food. Who needs jazzed-up interiors when the cooking is this compelling?  The menu is short but not too short, seasonal without being smug, and features a wry nod to the room’s pub past; a starter of beer onions on toast with aged gruyère. It’s a frankly indecent snack, snaked with sloppy boozed-up ribbons of onions, the particularly...

If the Pocket feels familiar, that’s because it comes to you from the same independent pub pros as Gospel Oak’s incredibly good Southampton Arms. Despite appearances, the rustic-leaning Pocket hasn’t been here for 100 years, but was opened by stealth in the spring of 2025, complete with new-old wood panelling, a 1930s anaglypta ceiling, a nerdishly impressive collection of 1970s pub ashtrays (on the walls alas, not the tables), and a battered upright piano (which gets played three times a week).  The Pocket’s premise is simple, and, let’s be honest, perfect: ‘No reservations. No green food. No shit beer. No terrible modern music,’ they say. The bar snacks come in various shades of beige (scotch eggs, sausage rolls, pasties, and pork pies), the music comes from either the piano or a vinyl record player which favours vintage jazz and soul, and the crowd is gorgeous. Beer is priced in order of strength, meaning it’s possible to get that rare thing - a London pint for a fiver. We are fully in the Pocket’s pocket. Time Out tip The Pocket is mere steps away from another great Islington pub, the Compton Arms. If you’re looking for more of a gastro experience, pop over for one of their unfailingly good kitchen residencies; as of summer 2025, it’s the powerhouse Rake boys.

If you find yourself yearning for red cups, beer pong and running around a stranger’s house while buzzed on rum punch, this one is for you. House Party, co-founded by rapper Stormzy, is a unique bar concept modelled around an old-school house party, slap-bang in the middle of Soho. Set across a seven-floor townhouse, you’ll find a teenager’s bedroom, complete with Page Three pin-ups tacked to the wall and a clunky, noughties-style PC; the parents’ room, where you can roll around in a double bed and queue karaoke songs; a kitchen (known to host secret gigs); a rooftop (for beer pong); a living room with game consoles and a DJ-soundtracked basement that fills up like a club. The attention to detail is quite wild – at moments I felt genuinely nostalgic (especially when I was belting out Avril Lavigne in the bedroom). It’s recommended you register for a party ‘invitation’ online for priority access, rather than risking not being let in on the night. Make sure you arrive before 10pm, so you don’t miss any surprise performances.  Order this The cocktail menu has all of the classics, but the standout is the ‘Kitchen Punch’, made with rum, blueberry purée and pineapple juice. It sounds like the sort of questionable concoction you made in university halls using leftover mixers and odd spirits, but actually tastes good.   Time Out tip Want a little privacy for you and your mates? You can book rooms – the basement, terrace treehouse, living room, parents’ bedroom and teenager’s...