
Football on Saturdays, market stalls on Sundays. I know exactly how to time the Tube rush.
Five distinct drinking compartments radiate from a central peninsula bar, separated by timber and etched glass partitions that have defined the flow of the room since 1898. This is one of the few places in London where the Victorian "snob screen" survives in its original context – movable glass panels originally installed to shield the faces of wealthy drinkers from the staff or the working class in the adjacent bay. Instead of a single open hall, the layout forces you to choose a side. You might squeeze into a small sliver of a room with just a few friends, or duck through low mahogany doors to find a spot near the main counter. The interior is Grade II* listed, protecting the high, moulded ceilings and the rococo woodwork from modern open-plan trends. It feels dense and lived-in, with mosaic tile floors that have seen decades of foot traffic. While the front remains a dedicated drinking space for cask ales and conversation, the kitchen serves a full menu of seasonal British dishes. Sunday roasts are a fixture here, drawing crowds that fill the separate bays with noise and plates. The pub also holds a specific slice of pop culture history, serving as the setting for David Bowie’s 1984 short film Jazzin' for Blue Jean. It remains a functioning local, where the architecture dictates the social dynamic just as much as the beer.