The Crooked Well

Amble down from the madness of Denmark Hill station towards Camberwell and you might double take at your surroundings. The grandeur of Camberwell Grove, faded in parts, undimmed in others, is well-known, but parallel Grove Lane is more of a hidden gem. 

And believe me, having recently made the pilgrimage down to SE5 (responsible for your humble correspondent's brief hiatus), I ensure every single visitor witnesses it, hopefully distracted from the lively folk of the Maudsley, just behind.

That rarest of London phenomena; a pristine, un-Blitzed terrace of Georgian houses with a comfortable ten metres of croquet-ready lawn frontage, it should by rights be somewhere far more salubrious. By the same logic, so too should The Crooked Well, a relaxed yet upscale pub dining room – but they both seem to fit in just fine.

The term gastropub doesn’t mean anything much in 2013, and it’s lazy at best. In fact it’s odious. But I’m sure it would be bandied about here; ostensibly just a pub where dining comes before boozing. Perfectly ok here, as there are plenty of nearby boozers and often the contrast of ‘finer’ dining and quality service in pubby environs makes for a more relaxed experience. 

From The Oak in Notting Hill to Fulham's  Harewood Arms, it's evident that the exoskeleton of a pub can reassure many who'd sweat profusely in a stuffier venue about cutlery etiquette or how to react when that sign of quality, the metal crumb scraper comes out. Clue: it's less awkward than lazing around the house while the cleaner is grafting away. 

Food is modern British, not wildly adventurous but definitely a step up from a tarted up pub menu. There are three dishes for two to share; a fish pie, a Côte de Boeuf and the masterful rabbit & bacon pie. And yes, it really requires two people.

Other highlights included picanha steak, pata negra, a cocktail of the day with charitable donation and a list of strictly French apertifs, unique in eschewing those ubiquitous red and orange bitters of Milan. The cheeseboard is impressive too.

I’m trying to resist being too effusive, but it’s just really rather good here. Service is attentive and well-informed but laid back, warm bread is offered more than once, and the chips are bloody excellent. There is little more satisfying than well-executed simplicity, and The Crooked Well balances its uncomplicated quality with a hint of refinement to work for most occasions. Except perhaps a raucous knees-up.

Crucially both the (briefly) idyllic setting and the pub itself are absolutley perfect for that South East London parental charm offensive, when they’re wondering what on earth possessed you to move here. Cue astonishment and relief as they walk through the door; places like this are exactly why I won’t be going anywhere for a long time.

 

The Parlour and The Chamberlayne

West London, and specifically North West where I currently live, is a culinary desert. There are a few old favourites and predictable stalwarts, but these are not the fertile, lush plains of Central and East London in terms of choice, openings and excitement.

I’m not going to continue with the god-awful terrain analogy. So where I might have mentioned oases, I will say that there are some exceptions – mainly in related to buzz rather than quality or dynamism. Around Portobello, spots like the Electric, E&O and the Italians of Kensington Park Road are packed out, extremely lively but equally are part of the furniture. Crazy Homies, El Camino, Santo and Taqueria feed the area’s many Yanks, giving the area a rare edge on others for Mexican. And of course there is The Ledbury.

A little north of there, even less is going on. Shambolic for somewhere so central and extortionate to live. Sacro Cuore’s pizzeria is tasty but let down by apathetic service. The Dock Kitchen has shades of brilliance (and not just Tom Dixon’s metallic numbers) but isn’t quite there on the food.  Too preoccupied with concept and identity to relax and confidently secure its future. People are confused – it is open? Is it a pop-up? Foraged menu only? Is there a bar? Shame as the space is fantastic.

But the pubs of North West London are decent, and this blurb is about The Parlour and The Chamberlayne. The former has been many things, known to most as that other pub behind that suburban fleshpot The Paradise, the Infernos of NW. However it’s been taken over by the Mall Tavern team, and is looking rather slick.

The starkness of the tiling is given warmth with a sea of mismatching, reclaimed wood tables, red booths and mixed up seating, and next door an attractive teal dining room sports plenty of clubby amber booth seating and original panelling. Inspiration seems to be Schiller’s Liquor Bar meets Riding House Café. But it retains a pub feel, no least due to the many interesting drops on tap – for example Anchor Steam’s Liberty Ale. Seeing their regular beer on tap is a special enough, so this is quite unique. 

Breakfast has been lauded here and it delivers. They’re trying the frying pan as a plate thing but seemingly bottling it due to lack of space for the handle (some tables are a little small). The beans in the jar are a great touch, although homemade might have been more exciting than Heinz given the effort in other areas. Hash browns are not seen enough on brunch menus and the sourdough and spreads bar for £1 (included in main breakfasts though) is cheaper than chips. Amazing bacon too. Solid coffee from South London’s Volcano and excellent service. And on weekends the kitchen is open until 1am which is a rare thing in W1, let alone out here in the sticks.

From breakfast to dinner, and for carnivores it has to be The Chamberlayne. Owned by The Salusbury team, they have gone for steaks and other meats (with some bistro touches) rather than the Italian you’d expect. Steaks here are dry aged and from a various sources, Scottish or English with the odd USDA guest. 

 

My T-bone was immense; quality meat, masterfully charred yet pink, well rested and absolutely nothing to improve upon. As respectable as you’d have anywhere, and at £36-ish inclusive of chips and a sprightly salad, extremely good value. An added bonus was receiving both rosemary & red wine jus and a decent béarnaise as standard – no fleecing on the sauces here. Chips were double cooked and amazing dipped in the rich jus.

We ate in the pub area on a Saturday night. It was rammed and so not much to say in the way of service, but to be expected. One teeny gripe was that we ordered all food, drinks and desserts (crumble was gigantic but mealy, loose and unfinished) all from the bar as per the pub norm, but at the very end we asked a passing barman for our bill as it was so busy. It had the 12.5% service added, which I think would not have happened had we got up and paid our pub tab. Not the worst thing, but a little cheeky – our fault for being lazy I guess and a lesson learned.

Clientele are those that can’t afford Notting Hill – either willing exiles looking for space and value, or reluctant snobs and penniless second sons. Think older dads working in TV and advertising: turned-up selvedge, tan brogues and the now-encouraged salt & pepper hair, having their monthly night away from Olivia and Rufus on the Guinness and nosebag.

Both Parlour and Chamberlayne represent some reasonable options in the area. There isn’t an influx of fancy fried chicken, not many places to grab a flat white and certainly not a sniff of Peruvian but food trends aside, there are several spots for dependable grub in the area.
 

Lucky Fried Chicken at The Grafton Arms

Lucky Fried Chicken is a pop up above a pub in Kentish Town. It is so on trend and encapsulates everything current in London food that it is almost a caricature of itself. Rumours were that it might be around for a while, but it now seems as if it’ll only last a few weeks (at The Grafton Arms at least).

Perhaps the margins in half-decently sourced chicken are tight compared to burgers, which seem to be coming. Mixing pubby furniture with a few booths, and surrounded by beautiful tiling which could have been pilfered from the Northern line station up the road, it’s a lovely space. There is draft beer upstairs (take note Disco Bistro!) and plenty of space.

The board is a pastiche of a generic chicken shop menu, but the cheekiest touch is the familiar face on the chicken buckets, which I imagine itself won’t survive too long before the letters arrive. Nonetheless I think the Colonel would be proud. The chicken is well seasoned (there is no discernible single flavour, it is just ‘seasoning’) and absolutely piping hot. Freshness is great, but we couldn’t eat for about 5 minutes and even then had to use cutlery. However it was juicy grub, with even boneless pieces very moist.

And grub this is. There is no semblance of provenance (being communicated clearly at least) here – no-one is telling you about the farm or the ingredients or the culinary process.  And the crowd didn’t seem to care. It’s unadulterated junk with no loftiness, emulating fast food outlets in a way that no burger places have quite dared to do without a huge improvement in product. 

Our table was debilitated – the chicken burger was a soggy, delicious mess not unlike many I've had at 3am, but the mash and gravy a nice homage to KFC across the pond as more canon accompaniments. The much-lauded cherry pie was overcooked, with a rock-solid base.

Fantastic fun but I doubt I’d return. If you took Kentish Town’s Chicken Cottage, kicked out everyone brown, served Camden lager, doubled the prices and played some 80s tunes, the food wouldn’t be a huge step change upwards. Nicer tiles though. And marginally fewer nutters. You get the gist... go if this sounds all appealing, but don’t expect to feel any more sprightly or wholesome afterwards. 

Food – 7/10 
Drink – 8/10 
Service - 7/10 
Value – 7/10 
Tap water tales – 3/10 
Staff Hotness – 7/10

 

North London Tavern

Before writing up some fantastic wings, burger and great service at Disco Bistro, I have a brief tale of woe to share. It concerns another, less fortunate burger at Kilburn’s North London Tavern.

Said burger was dropped into my lap. Luckily the bun bounced off my leg and decorated the floor, not leaving any marks on my jeans, but the barman didn’t see this, nor did he enquire. He did apologise meekly however, and offered to ask the chef to prepare me another one, as if it was a wonderful favour and I should be grateful. It would take ten minutes.

Thirty minutes later, my replacement burger was delivered, approximately five minutes after my intended was swept up from around my feet. Lovely. I asked the retreating barman if I would be offered anything given that I’d had to wait half an hour, and could not eat with my party and he seemed perplexed.

Cue a sweaty palmed manager waddling over with a ‘wanna fight’ gait, except it was more “Is there a problem here?” – so not too far off. He tried to dispute the waiting time, and then in the most patronising attitude possible, proceeded with “Oh, is it a free drink you’re after? Fine, what do you want…”

No I don’t want a free drink you big sack of tatties. I’m in a round of four and it’s quite obvious we’re about to leave anyway. How about offering something when it happened, or giving a shit? 

The worst thing is that butter fingers himself was North American, and if this happened there I would have been showered with all manner of excessive platitudes and freebies. Such a shame London has ruined his service outlook, but he’s found his rightful place.

In the end, I suggested a dessert we could all share. Didn’t touch a morsel myself though.

Luckily my friend also ordered the burger (safely delivered) and so we could eat half at a time. The burger itself was overcooked, dry and mealy from a breadcrumb-heavy mix. Precarious presentation on a wooden board does not equate to quality, be warned. But it does increase the risk of wearing said burger.

Shame as it’s decent as a pub, and I’ve never had any previous complaints with food. And people drop things, that isn’t the be-all and end-all. But how you deal with the situation is…

Green Man & French Horn

Green Man & French Horn is a takeover of a West End pub in what was once known as Theatreland (is it still?) by the team behind Terroirs and others, to become a Loire Valley-specific wine bar. Food has a notable seafood leaning as well as some gamey numbers; no steak frites or even the ubiquitous bavette of latter days in sight...

I’ve been quite vocal about the loss of pubs but in some cases, it can be an improvement. Look at The Opera Tavern for example. There are a lot of generic, touristy West End pubs which London could survive without, provided the replacement is an improvement. In many cases it won’t be of course, but here it is.

It’s a narrow space, brightened up but still very pubby in feel. The wine list is strictly Loire, so there isn’t any champagne or even a more affordable cremant. Our table of four are partial to a drop of fizz, so we settled on a demi-sec sparkling gamay which had zing but wasn’t overly acidic.

Bar food and starters are a bit of a overlap – similar price points and levels of execution lead to some mixing and matching. But I guess some are changeable and some fixed. Most of the starters are more than suitable as small plates or bar food, priced between £5 and £8. But the friendly staff were more than happy for us to play around with these for the first course.

Rillettes with cornichons is a classic, and a dish I’ve enjoyed very much at Terroirs. I found this execution to be somewhat lacking strength of flavour as it was too lightly seasoned. Very smooth though. 

Fresh cheese was an interesting one. The sour flavours of this expanse of untreated cheese were quite an unfamiliar step away from the comfort of ricotta. It may not be for everybody, but it has a rustic, un-manufactured taste, brought out by the sweet shallots, olive oil and pepper to enhance the flavours. Quite unique.

Whitebait were fresh to say the least! Very pungent, these bad boys were hot, salty and spot on.

Rillons is a small cut of pork belly, and absolutely delicious. I rarely order pork belly because I find the fat to meat ratio too high, but this was a perfect way to enjoy the dish. Not only was the cut fantastic and meaty, but also as a starter, it seemed the ideal way to enjoy belly without being lumbered with a main course comprised half of pure fat. Perfectly cooked, this was crunchy yet soft, and full of flavour.

At this point, we had moved on to an unusual Coteaux du Vendomois (£29 a bottle) which had a slight fizz to it.

Scallops are offered as a main at £6 per scallop, one of our party had three. They were repeatedly and enthusiastically described as being like silk.

Two of us had the rabbit with salsify and cider, at £16. This was a great example of rustic French comfort food. Two meaty rabbit legs in a broth of cider, with plenty juicy carrots and parsnips. A lovely dish. My one gripe might be that the cider could have been reduced a little, to concentrate the cider-y taste and lessen the liquid.

Grouse with game chips was our final main – I can’t actually attest to the feedback on this one, but it looked great and its recipient (who has spent not a little time in France) certainly would have mentioned if it were otherwise. 

Desserts were a pear and salted caramel concoction (quite 2011 non?) and a tarte vigneron which didn’t taste as winey as I had hoped. But both were enjoyable. The cheeseboard looked very appealing but we were out of capacity. One for the return...

And there definitely would be a return trip. Our threatened (two hour) table turn never eventuated and so we were happy to stay for another couple of hours drinking more wine. The service was attentive, upbeat and chirpy throughout, and yes they were all French! 

It’s a cosy little place to have in one’s repertoire, especially in the chain wastelands east of Soho. Would be good for a date, or parents, or indeed perfect for a snack and the avoidance of theatre wine if you’re seeing a play too. A solid addition, quite unsurprisingly given the credentials, with the Loire Valley element giving it an original twist.

 

Food – 8/10 

Drink – 9/10 

Service - 8/10 

Value – 8/10 
Tap water tales – 4/10 (not offered, but brought once requested in a lovely carafe and glasses) 
Staff Hotness – 8/10 (young, French and jocular)

The Lansdowne

The Lansdowne is that pub in Primrose Hill. Every uppity area has one – the pub where the entitled and oblivious drink.  Where you either drink yourself or despise the people that do. A Westbourne Tavern, Salusbury, Freemasons or Sloaney Pony, if you will.

As I don’t live in Primrose Hill, I can occasionally justify circumnavigating my way through horsey gums, gurning gums and 4wd buggies if I’m nearby and in need of a sunny pint of Aspall’s. It’s an incredibly sceney place, but I think that’s probably its best attribute for a non-local; the people watching is brilliant.

Food-wise, in recent times it’s been known for its pizzas, irritatingly served on terracotta plates smaller than the pie, and unsliced, with the dullest knives known to man. The kitchen’s had a revamp with more non-pizza choice and there is a more formal resto upstairs, but pizza won the day.

The Turkish lamb pizza was a bit of a tragi-comic affair. I’m quite the purist with pizza toppings, with a huge exception for Hawaiian, and I wasn’t sure how lamb, cumin and onion (as described) would go down. Perhaps thin slow cooked chunks of spiced lamb? Or lamb pieces cooked in the tomato sauce?

Surely it could not be as tawdry as a pile of lamb mince, indiscriminately splattered in the style of a diarrhoea-prone cat, and with a lemon wedge on top? Which tasted somewhere between 2am doner and 3am resurrection of said doner.

I’m pleased to report that the San Daniele pizza was much better. Wafers of prosciutto adorned by a clump of rocket and parmesan. Simple, tasty and what I remember about the pizza kitchen of this pub from years ago, before they tried to get clever. Or themed, God forbid, like the abominable Fire & Stone and their repellent fare.

The base was incredibly thin though, which I do like sometimes, but it needs more tomato sauce to add some density, because otherwise it dries out to become a crispbread. Both pizzas were about £10-12.

It’s definitely an establishment to experience; you may get celebs or at least wannabes, and you’ll absolutely get babies. Furthermore, you may still get decent pizza, but steer clear of the Turkish.

 

The Woolpack

One of Bermondsey Street’s two opposing pubs, The Woolpack is firmly the boozers’ choice.

The Garrison is ok if a little 'quirky vintage shoppe with old birdcages and tatty mirrors', but when half the tables are set for dining and you’re asked if you’re ok as soon as you sit down, it’s quite a different vibe. They have rubbish beers too – but really, both of these pubs should be swimming in Kernel and Meantime. I think instead, both have Stella on draught.

But as well as a more laidback atmosphere, a big garden and original, stark tiling, The Woolpack do a decent line in pub grub. My mate and I had the burger and the steak respectively as we watched the parade of A-gays, City boys in civvies and in-the-know estate agents playing with their little mutts and lounging in the sun. 

The bacon cheeseburger (£11-ish) I didn’t try so can’t comment on too much, and this particular friend’s feedback is only ever a grunt somewhere between indifferent and mildly enthused, but it looked pretty good and wasn’t overcooked at all.

My steak (at about £15) was a great pub steak. A decent wedge of medium rare rib-eye resting on a massive pile of skin-on chips, which were excellent. And a massive pile of rocket to assuage the guilt, and then bring it back with generous parmesan shavings. I do prefer this modern, if predictable, evolution of the pub steak’s cursory salad and cremated tomato and mushrooms. It’d be £4-5 extra in many of the high-end, sides-happy venues too.

The steak was crowned with a slab of bone marrow butter, which while tasty (is there bad butter?), wasn’t hugely strong in the bone marrow flavour but perhaps that is being deliberately restrained for people’s tastes. It’s crazy in this Hawksmoor age, but I still think it freaks some people out.

In this area of fantastic eating options, I could see a lot of people foregoing The Woolpack for one of the establishments further down the street. But if croquetas and veal chops just won’t suffice and it’s a decent burger, steak or roast you’re after, with a bit of sun, a decent pint and some Gok Wan stalking, The Woolpack is the one.

Food – 7/10

Drink – 6/10

Service - 5/10

Value – 8/10

Tap water tales – 5/10 - pub so request your own, no expectation though

Staff Hotness – 7/10 (hip staff, flat out but still bit chatty amongst themselves if that winds you up)

The Old White Bear

Dropped into The Old White Bear after a bracing walk on the Heath, including this spot which spookily reminded me of the lake and abandoned sewer building in the It film:

they all float down here...

This used to be a traditional boozer, but was tarted up as I think, is every old boozer’s fate in this area. Foreign monied incomers MUST feel comfortable in pubs! So now the actual pub area is a tragic little gathering of three tables and some stools sandwiched in between two dining areas. But outside of main dining hours, you can seemingly sit anywhere and the staff were very friendly so it’s not too restaurant-y, like The Freemasons for example. It's the same team behind The Oak in Notting Hill - another pub turned eatery.

I had beef, the king of roasts, and was heartened to ask how I’d like it. It wasn’t actually as medium rare as requested, but was pink enough to be tender. Generous too. At £17.50 it’s really at the peak of what a pub roast should cost, but I did leave debilitated, which is the point I suppose.

The Yorkshire pudding was very dense and heavy, which I enjoyed as sometimes they get too soggy from the gravy. And said gravy certainly would normally disintegrate any other yorkie – it was incredibly watery and lacked flavour. Although it was reddish in hue of which I generally approve (because either red wine or tomato paste are worthy additions) and it also implies it’s not pre-made. Still rubbish sadly.

Roasties were good – oval shaped so not too gargantuan. Veggies were parsnips and carrots only, nothing green which I think detracts from the perception of a proper Sunday roast plate. Some green beans or broccoli would give the impression of a more complete plate. And perhaps might have made it feel less stodgy.

My dining companion had the veggie mezze or similar; quite a meagre dish when contrasted with the roast, yet punchy at about £10. It was over very quickly, and quite oily throughout.

The wine list was impressive, and plenty by the glass although they're served in 125ml and 175ml so watch out for the 'large' pricing. 

I’d return to try the regular menu as it did have few intriguing things on there. I also liked the warm, fresh bread selection which was served with room temperature, seemingly house-made butter. So extra points there, and for good service. But weak gravy from a lofty kitchen is a cardinal sin on a Sunday, and for £17.50, quite a let-down. 

Food – 7/10

Drink – 8/10

Service - 8/10

Value – 7/10

Tap water tales – 7/10

Staff Hotness – 6/10

 

Havelock Tavern

Cheeky bavette at The Havelock Tavern in W14, definitely the best pub for food in that part of town.

It's a slight step up even from your average gastropubs. The menu changes twice daily, they bake their own bread (which is doled out for free) and the wine list is excellent. It also has decent outdoor seating which is a rarity in dense Brook Green. 

Not worth crossing town for, but if an unlucky bib happens to find themselves traumatised, caught out in the wilderness between The Ledbury and La Trompette, you could certainly wait out the rain here.

No I'm joking, it's really rather good. The bavette in question is about £14 and comes with excellent chips, salad and a creamy tarragon butter.

chips with bavette in the background

Other dishes range from pub favourites to some more adventurous curries and quite decent French cooking. I've never seen a burger on offer though.

A great local, even if it does feel like a kennel at times...

Food – 7/10

Drink – 7/10

Service - 6/10

Value – 8/10

Tap water tales – 7/10 (lukewarm, lemoned jugs at the bar)

Staff Hotness – 6/10