North London Pub of the Year Ballot: My Vote

As I mentioned in my birthday post (mission accomplished!), voting is now open in the CAMRA North London branch for North London Pub of the Year. I visited all six of the nominees (plus a few bonus pubs) in a one-day whirlwind pub crawl, and I have decided how I am going to vote.

I fully realize that I can't possibly assess the true character of a pub in a single visit, particularly when I visited some in that sleepy period shortly after opening and others in the full swing of a busy Saturday night. I also did not eat in any of these pubs, which might disadvantage those that emphasize food. And, of course, what I want from my pub may not be the same thing you want from your pub. But life ain't fair, so save your complaints and cast your own vote!

So here they are, ranked in order. I will say that the top two were very difficult to separate, with the final ranking decided on location and my personal preferences in comfort and decor:

1. The Southampton Arms

What an absolute gem. The Southampton Arms, tucked away in a Highgate Road storefront in Kentish Town, combines an outstanding selection of English craft ales and ciders -- twelve handpumps for beer and six for cider -- with the rustic, lived-in comfort of the best English pubs. The server knew the characteristics of the beers he was pouring and was able to give an intelligent, nuanced recommendation. If this place were any closer to home, I would happily kick back in the church pew beside the open fire every day, from the minute they opened until they chucked me out at closing time. My selection for North London Pub of the Year.

The Southampton Arms gets my vote for North London Pub of the Year!

2. The Jolly Butchers

The Jolly Butchers would be perfectly at home if someone plucked it from the busy streets of Stoke Newington and plopped it back down in Santa Monica, somewhere between The Library Alehouse and Father's Office. This is more beer bar than pub -- which is not a bad thing -- with a young and vibrant crowd filling the clean, modern interior with a definite buzz. The selection of English craft brews is good, and The Jolly Butchers boasts a better selection of international beers than The Southampton Arms. The delicious Belgian Mort Subite Kriek and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, among others, were on draught, and a broad range of international beers (including Brooklyn Brewery and Flying Dog) is available in bottles. (Might there be a Stone or Russian River or Lagunitas beer pouring here in the near future? We California expats can only hope.) The servers knew their beers and seemed genuinely excited about them. The Jolly Butchers was edged out of my top spot only by The Southampton Arms's inviting, relaxed atmosphere and its Kentish Town location, but on a different day I might well have made a different decision.

The Jolly Butchers, a solid second.

3. North Nineteen

Wrapped inside a bland exterior in a charmless Upper Holloway neighborhood is North Nineteen, the sort of cosy family pub and restaurant that deserves to be the center of community life. The interior is newly refurbished and it makes no effort to simulate period charm -- it is unpretentious, clean and modern. The front bar has a large open fireplace and a flat screen TV for the friendly local Arsenal supporters, and a small dining room off to the side. The back bar (go through the gents) has darts and another fireplace.  Nine handpumps, three in front and six in back, and a good selection of whiskies as well. The service was notably amiable and efficient. Were I not on a mission of my own, I would have been content to sit in the bar and watch football all afternoon.

The back bar at North Nineteen, empty on a Saturday afternoon, no doubt awaiting the punters' return from the Arsenal match at the Emirates.

4. The Charles Lamb

The Charles Lamb is exceptional in two ways: it is exceptionally charming, and it is exceptionally small. The place is all white and pale green with simple, clean lines, and it has a slightly feminine air about it. This is a pleasant change from the overtly masculine, dark-and-dingy decor of many neighborhood pubs (an aesthetic epitomized by the fading glory of the Lamb's endangered neighbor, The Wenlock Arms). But its diminutive size is an inconvenience.  We were able to find seats after only a short wait at the bar on our late Saturday evening visit, but I have been to the Lamb on a Saturday afternoon and had difficulty getting through door for the crowd. The Lamb has only three handpumps (I doubt there is space for any more).

Charming, but too small.

5. The Duke of Wellington

There seems to be some sort of magical effect in operation at The Duke of Wellington: Whenever a seat is opened up, whether at a table or at the bar, it is instantly filled, and yet one never can tell from whence the people come -- the place never seems to be crowded, and no one ever seems to be waiting for a chair. It's almost as if the punters are a liquid, flowing in at the same rate as they flow out, always finding their own level.

That said, I found The Duke of Wellington to be pleasant but entirely unexceptional. The interior decor is minimalist to the point of nonexistence; the exterior is unremarkable, and there is nothing to recommend a visit to its Dalston location.

The Duke of Wellington: Not a serious contender.

6. Three Compasses

I took an instand dislike to Three Compasses, and I'm not sure why. It might have been the toothless drunk at the bar who decided for unknown reasons that I was the perfect audience for his harangue about the poor service he was receiving, or perhaps it was the surly server who promptly demonstrated that his complaints were justified. The front bar was fine but unexceptional; I did not like the cavern-like back bar, which seemed a bit of a Chucky Cheese-style game room for obnoxious groups of beer drinking teens and 20-somethings. The selection of cask ales was decent, particularly if you are a fan of Redemption Brewing, and the Redemption Pale Ale I had was fine. But I did not linger over it, and I will not return for another.

Last place: Three Compasses

Pubs & Restaurants: The Compass (Islington N1)

The Compass, 58 Penton St., Islington

We found ourselves stranded near St. Pancras of a Saturday lunchtime, and the solution seemed obvious: To Angel we will go.  A perfect opportunity to try The Compass, a well-regarded gastropub at the corner of Penton Road and Chapel Market, about 6-minutes walk from Angel Underground.

Great happiness ensued.  Here’s why:

First and foremost, the food was delicious. The dishes were well prepared, imaginatively constructed and gorgeously presented. More on that later.

Second, from the clean, simple pub décor to the relaxed banter of our server, we felt wholly welcome, as if we had been regulars for years rather than strangers who happened in off the street. To anthropomorphize, The Compass seems entirely comfortable in its own skin, without a hint of pretense or superciliousness.

Now the details.

The main dining room is a typical pub room, with a dozen or so typical pub tables; there is dark wood everywhere, bathed in soft natural light from the south facing windows. The only clues that this is not a simple neighborhood boozer are the open kitchen tucked in the corner behind the bar, and the fact that all of the tables are set for dining. There are two other families here with babies and prams; it seems we’re finally getting the hang of finding good places to eat at off-peak hours, which certainly makes dining out with a seven-month old and his enormous pram much easier.

Heidi and Jack peruse the menu

The bar offers three cask ales, which the website says are “regularly changing.” Two of the three pouring at our visit—the Adnams Bitter and the Whitstable East India Pale Ale—are also pictured on the website, however, so I can’t vouch for how “regular” that “changing” may be.  We started off with the Bath Ales Barnstormer, a deep, reddish-brown bitter that is firmly hopped but well balanced, with hints of fruit and distant echoes of chocolate. The Whitstable IPA, in contrast, was a cloudy pale yellow, with a wonderful hop aroma and fruity late-hop flavor; in my opinion, it was inadequately bittered for the style and ran thin on the tongue. That said, both beers were served in excellent condition.

(The server gave me a wine list, but if you want to know anything about it, you’re reading the wrong review.)



Braised featherblade with beetroot and wasabi mash



The menu is modern English, and our initial reaction was that it promised much – an interesting variety of dishes, with some imaginative combinations.  Would the chef’s execution fulfill that promise? We decided to try two very different mains: the braised featherblade[1] with beetroot and wasabi mash, and the whole plaice in a moules marinieres sauce. Both were wonderful.

The featherblade was as enjoyable to look at as to eat: a succulent piece of beef set atop a mound of beet-colored mashed potatoes, swimming in jus, beautifully garnished with contrasting and complementary colors. The star of the dish was the mash, the spicy wasabi playing against the rich, rounded flavors of the braised beef.

The plaice lacked the dramatic flair of the featherblade, but it was a fine dish. It was simply prepared, pan fried in a light batter, served whole, sauced with a restrained moules mariniere. The result was an airy, flavorful mouthful, the mussels in the sauce providing a texture and flavor contrast to the delicate white fish.

Whole plaice in sauce moules mariniere

We finished the meal with a cheese board, on this day including a bleu d’Auvergne, a chevre and a camembert. All three were richly flavored and delicious, each in its own way, and I could kick myself for forgetting to note the cheesemakers!

The verdict: All things considered, possibly the best gastropub experience I’ve had since coming to London. We shall return!

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[1] Americans would call this cut a blade roast or chuck roast.

Restaurants: The Butcher's Hook, Fulham

The Butcher's Hook, 477 Fulham Road

There are few things in life I love to hate more than Chelsea Football Club. Had I known anything about The Butcher’s Hook when I selected it, more or less randomly, from The Good Food Guide 2011, I likely would have reconsidered my choice. That would have been a shame, because this is a superior gastropub.

If you are as ignorant as I was, here’s a little background: The Butcher’s Hook sits at the corner of Fulham Road and Holmead Road in Fulham, directly across the street from the Stamford Gate (east) entrance to Chelsea FC’s Stamford Bridge[1] stadium. In 1905, the pub on this site was called The Rising Sun, and it was here on March 10 of that year that Henry Augustus Mears and Frederick Parker founded Chelsea Football Club. Indeed, The Butcher’s Hook hosted the Chelsea FC centennial celebration shortly after it opened in February 2005.

Wonderfully, none of this history is apparent in the pub. We arrived for a Saturday lunch to find the main room large, clean and inviting, with simple stripped-wood floors and furniture, white walls and natural lighting muted by sheer white curtains. The tables are well spaced, giving the room an open and relaxed ambience. 

Space for the pram, and a nice cabernet, too!.

The bar was pouring two cask ales, both from Greene King; my IPA was served at the perfect cellar temperature and carbonation level. The Butcher’s Hook emphasizes its wines, however, having been named the Best Wine Pub for 2008 by The Publican. They do have a large and varied wine list, with many selections also available by the glass and 500 ml carafe. The menu suggests wine pairings with several of the starters and mains.

The Butcher’s Hook describes its menu as having a “strong British slant,” and perhaps many of the dishes have roots in traditional British cuisine, but chef Jacky Lelievre’s French roots are plain to see in the preparations.



Delicious mushroom & gorgonzola pie.

 As we often do for lunch at a new restaurant, we chose to sample and share a variety of starters. We were pleased with all four; three of the four were excellent. The standout dish for me was the mushroom and gorgonzola pie; the mushrooms were musky and meaty and blended perfectly with a restrained, creamy gorgonzola; the pastry crust was flawlessly light and airy, vanishing in one’s mouth to leave a hint of texture and flavor. The confit pig cheeks were rich and tender, the crispy onions and lentils accompaniments giving it depth and range at each end of the flavor scale. The beer-battered whiting goujons[2] were light and crispy and delicious. Only the Old Spot port and sage terrine wasn’t exceptional—but it was still quite good, particularly with the caramelized onion marmalade. Even the basket of sourdough bread that preceded the meal was deliciously tart and crusty and notably superior.

The one flaw in the meal was dessert. Heidi had an own-made hokey pokey ice cream. The flavor was bland—on par with a generic supermarket vanilla—and the texture icy.

I have complained about gastropub service in the past; I have no such complaints about The Butcher’s Hook. The room was rather crowded by the end of our lunch, with one very large party occupying much of our server’s time. Nevertheless, she remained responsive and helpful throughout our meal, and the serving staff generally was quick and friendly.

Overall, we had a very positive experience and would happily return to The Butcher’s Hook—its unfortunate connections to Chelsea FC notwithstanding!!

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[1] The name of the stadium has nothing to do with the famous Battle of Stamford Bridge in 1066, which occurred nowhere near here. If you are curious how the stadium got its name, the story is on the Chelsea FC website.

[2] “Goujon” is, essentially, an upscale restaurant word for “fish finger.”

Football: Come on, you Whites!

With Heidi and Jack away, I decided to take in my first English top flight football match in 25 years.  The only available tickets in town were for Fulham vs. Aston Villa, so a day out in Fulham it would be.

Fulham's stadium--known by the wonderfully English moniker "Craven Cottage"--is as far south as one can get and still be north of the river, in a part of the city famous for its crap transport links.  As a result, even though I was going only 9 miles, I was facing 90 minutes on the bus with a slog on foot thereafter.  Fortunately, that slog would take me within slogging distance of two of London's top pubs.  I left home at 10:30 a.m. for a 3:00 p.m. kick off, to give myself plenty of time.

The White Horse, Parsons Green

My first stop, the White Horse at the tip of Parsons Green, is frequently rated on beer-geek sites as one of London's best.  I expected to be disappointed, because the raters on sites like that tend to be American tourists who never ventured outside of tourist London.

But I wasn't disappointed.  I loved the place.  At noon on Saturday the place was starting to fill and had a great atmosphere.  The main room was high-ceilinged, bright and airy; the side rooms were cozier, with dark wood paneling. The furnishings included large, plush chairs and sofas, spacious stables with benches, and inviting snugs.

The White Horse, Interior

The service at the bar was prompt and friendly, and the selection of cask ales on draft was as good as it was reputed to be.  The only minor complaint I had was that the the porter I originally ordered was off line, but in its stead I had a delicious Dark Star Brewery Over the Moon, a dark, hoppy mild ale.

By the time I finished my pint, the bar was getting crowded and I had a long walk ahead of me, so I took my leave.  I followed Kings Road for about a mile across Putney Bridge, where swarms of Aston Villa fans, visiting from Birmingham, were taking photos of the river.  It was still 2 hours to match time, but already I had passed two pubs that were so crowded they were turning people away, so I became concerned whether my planned second stop was going to happen.

Fortunately, the Bricklayer's Arms is off the main street on a little cul de sac, and although it was beginning to fill up with punters stopping in for a pre-match pint, they appeared to be beer-savvy locals rather than the traveling hordes.  And those beer-savvy locals have something good going, because this is a peach of a pub.

The Bricklayer's Arms, Putney

It's a small place, with a few tables in front of a horseshoe-shaped bar, a larger back room, and a snug little beer garden beside.  The decor was charming -- white panelled walls topped with molding, beneath a yard of worn, exposed brick, and in the rear room dark beams, vaulted like the ribs of an inverted ship.  Four friendly bartenders worked the small bar, and they managed to give prompt service even while answering question after question about the 10 cask ales they were pouring.

The beer was good, too. I started with a St. Magnus Ale from Highland Brewing Co., which was a big, malty beer nicely balanced with generous hopping.  I followed that the HBB from Hog's Back, a bitter with a slightly fruity hop nose, but generally very mild in flavor.  I finished with the Plain Ales Inndulgence, a dark porter dominated by chocolate and coffee flavors, but with an unfortunate sweet note marring the finish.

When the police descended on the place--four constables in bright yellow high-visibility vests, apparently conducting some prophylactic anti-hooliganism tour of the local drinking establishments--I decided it was time to head over to Craven Cottage.  The walking path took me back across and along the river, down a tree covered path through Bishop's Park, past the wall and tower of Fulham Palace.  Easily the most attractive walk to a sports stadium I've ever taken.

Craven Cottage, Johnny Haynes Stand, Exterior

Craven Cottage itself is small for a Premier League stadium--at a capacity of 25,700, it is slightly smaller than the Home Depot Center, home of the Los Angeles Galaxy--but what it lacks in grandeur it makes up for in character.  The oldest of the four stands, the Johnny Haynes Stand, is a protected heritage building dating from 1905.  Of course, this has its downsides--the roof, for example, is supported by columns that restrict the views in some 1500 seats, including mine.  But I was only seven rows up from the pitch, so even my restricted view was a fantastic view, and I doubt there is a bad seat in the house.

The game iself was largely forgettable, with only a handful of scoring chances.  Aston Villa largely dominated, and they opened the scoring with a gorgeous 60-yard cross field pass that Fulham defender Carlos Salcido misjudged, allowing Villa's Mark Albrighton to take the ball down and easily slot past Fulham  keeper Mark Schwarzer. Fulham, though, grabbed an undeserved equalizer in the 94th minute, off a deflected header from a free kick, much to the home crowd's delight.


With the game over, time for the slog back home. I had no post-match agenda, and I was tired, so after the long walk to Hammersmith tube and a quick stop at Waitrose for some food, I settled in for an evening with a good book.

Next up -- the Hampstead Heritage Pub Tour, Part 1!!