The Guildford

Guildford Grove, SE10

I first went here for lunch with friends a good few months ago, and really enjoyed it, but wanted to experience the full evening atmosphere before a review. It's a newish conversion from old-time-boozer to gastro-pub and I had heard very different opinions of it, so at least two visits were necessary, I felt...

As pub-restaurants go, it's not cheap. Most of the meaty mains are around fifteen quid, and the alcohol is also pricey. But I have to say that I like this place as well, if not better than many similar-priced eateries around here. So shoot me.

It's cosy - the lush red walls and curtains, the squashy sofas by the modern fire and slightly kitsch chandeliers take care of that, and the tables aren't too close together. The drinking area is pretty small, really, with funky wood surfaces and a vase that looks like it came out of Professor Branestawm's lab, though even on the very quiet night we were in there (actually it wasn't full on the lunchtime either) there were a couple of well-heeled-looking regulars sitting at the bar with newspapers. There was only one other table of actual diners the whole time we were there.

The service was relaxed and very friendly indeed - a cheery chap, happy to let us sit with drinks on the leather sofa until we felt like ordering at the tables, and knowledgeable-enough about the excellent compilation CD on the sound system to be able to tell me who was playing on a particular track without having to look it up.

Now. I know this is going to sound like some dodgy local paper review, but I really did love everything I ate that evening. The aubergine-sunblush-tomato ensemble I scoffed as a starter was beautifully prepared - lots of funky drizzled bits and sumptuous layers that melted into each other in my mouth. The Phantom Companion's duck rillettes on toast were equally enjoyable.

The mains kept-up the side. I'd already had the risotto on another occasion so tried something different - a rather splendid cod confection, beautifully executed. TPC couldn't decide whether to have the beef or the pork, so asked the waiter, who recommended the pork, in spite of the beef costing considerably more. It was a good shout - done to perfection.

I'm squirming as I write this. There's normally something I can carp about. But this really was a hugely enjoyable meal. I didn't really fancy the puddings (a good thing really; this Phantom-gig is piling on the pounds...) so we just had a coffee and cleared off.

The price of this place is going to mean I don't get to go back there as much as I'd like to. But for a nice semi-special-to-special night out, I'd say this would be a good choice indeed. A few more visits (I want to try the garden as soon as it's warm enough) and this could join the list of Phantom Favourite Haunts...

The website promises an upstairs restaurant area with more brasserie-type downstairs food, though it hasn't materialised yet. Maybe they aren't getting enough custom yet. That's a shame. From what I experienced, they deserve it.

Hare & Billet

Hare & Billet Road, SE3

Many times had I passed this ancient-looking pub on the heath, never had I entered it. It looked fantastic from the outside; a local pub for well-heeled regulars, across the road from a willow-fringed village pond, surrounded by dinky mis-matched houses, each of equal charm if not building style. Much of Blackheath, after all, could be some rustic village in the Home Counties if one didn't know that Lewisham was a few streets one way, Kidbrooke a few streets the other. The Hare & Billet, dating back a couple of hundred years at least, is part of that olde English charm.

It was an early Sunday afternoon. I was certainly right about the regulars. This isn't a pub for tourists or out-of-towners. Not that it's unfriendly - the vibe's perfectly pleasant - but people keep to themselves, reading the paper or chatting quietly. At least no one looked at us as we walked in - if a piano had been playing, it would have continued. That I can't remember whether there was music or not means at least that if there was it wasn't of an offfensive level.

It's rather self-consciously 'unreconsitituted' - wooden floors and simple painted walls - where we sat a large chunk of ceiling covering was missing - presumably the result of a flood. No one had bothered redecorating and it didn't seem to matter. It fitted in rather well with the wooden bookcase and the darts board. I don't get the feeling that people play darts there very much - not necessarily because they're not very good (there were lots of holes around the board, especially underneath it...) - more that I'd wager it's that gauntlet walk from the kitchen in direct firing line of said board.

We'd actually come in for food, but despite a number of notices all over the place announcing the food, menus on the tables and our being there well within the time speicified, the kitchen was closed. Some kind of crisis, they told us. Fair enough - these things happen. We settled for drinks instead. The beer's absolutely fine - a good, sturdy selection and a pleasant place to drink it. Absolutely no complaints. Then came the wine.

Now there are people who would argue that wine has no place in an English pub and even having the choice of red or white is a concession too far. And they may have a point. But if you're going to move with the times and actually have wine in a - let's face it - posh area, and charge upwards of a fiver for a glass of it (some glasses were well over six quid) then personally I'm going to expect something a bit more exciting than supermarket crap. These were all the usual suspects - unexciting boggo plonk that you really can get in Sainsburys for £3.99 a bottle.

My glass of tempranillo was hideous - and believe me, I can put away virtually anything that isn't battery acid. I even - gulp - considered not finishing it, but one thought of how much I'd just paid for the glass sitting in front of me (and, of course, plain greed) meant that I did actually drink it. (And no - it wasn't off. )I didn't try anything else, though my beer-drinking companions had a whale of a time. We stayed longer than we expected - the atmosphere is good - then went off in search of something to eat, rather sad that we hadn't managed to sample any of the fare there.

Overall, though, this is a decent, traditional pub, which probably doesn't ever get as hideously packed as, say the Princess of Wales or that horrid O'Neills in Tranquil Vale, even in summer - a local pub for local people. It's snug and cosy in winter - every table seems to be a good one. And in summer, the little area around the pond must be lovely - and more interesting than the general flatness of most of the heath. To be honest, I'm not going to be making many pilgrimages back there until they discover the delights of Theatre of Wine, Nicolas - or even Oddbins - but I suspect they won't be shedding many tears at the thought of losing me...

The Plume of Feathers

Park Vista, SE10

This must be one of the oldest pubs in Greenwich. It dates back to 1691 - I'm not sure how much of it is actually from 1691, and how much is from the refit in George III's time but it certainly looks old, with its green tiled walls and low-lying feel and what's great is that it's still a cosy, popular pub, but being set just that little bit off the tourist trail, business tends to be 90% locals despite its being opposite the Park.

Well, ok, maybe not quite opposite the Park. The Dwarf Orchard (for another day...) gets in the way, its tall sycamores (read "weed trees" but don't get me started on that one) looming over that intriguing Secret Garden wall, and keeping the Plume of Feathers' country-in-the-city feel.

Not that it always had such a grand name - it was at first, just The Feathers. It only became The Plume of Feathers in the Regency. I haven't read this anywhere, but it does occur to me that maybe it was in honour of the Prince Regent, who was also Prince of Wales. If it was it would have driven poor Caroline of Brunswick potty - she was a local and by that time very much estranged from Prince George.

The old pub's dissected by the Meridian Line - a complete coincidence since the ML is a much younger feature. I've never noticed the metal strip I hear marks it outside - I'm always too busy crashing my way towards (or from, ahem,) the low, dark door, but I shall definitely (possibly) look out for it in future.

There's a great history of the place here, so I won't bore you with any more detail and instead I'll just move onto what it's like now...

What I love about the Plume of Feathers is that it's cosy in winter and fresh in summer. I love sitting outside with friends on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Those straight, no-nonsense benches are perfect for the age and style of the pub - any other kind of seating would be wrong - and though the garden out back's lovely, I would still choose to sit on the street if there's a bench available.

Inside is like your gran's parlour. Actually, I say that, but many grans are quite funky these days. Strike that. Inside is more like one of those pubs you hope to encounter after a day's hiking on the Yorkshire Moors and that really only occur in am-dram whodunnits. Low-ceilinged, low-lit, low prices. I may be lying about the last one. Squirly, trifle-topping artex walls are covered with pictures of old Greenwich - many of the Plume itself - and strange glass cases filled with olde-worlde nonsense and which are just perfect for the situation.

Little wall-lights with tassel-trimming and thick curtains are just part of the reason I love the pub in winter, The two open fires are another part. But what I really love is the welcome. Everyone is nice (well - I've never known anything else.) The staff are friendly and chatty but not overbearing or worse, too chummy, and even if there are things 'off' the menu (a regular occurrence - it's a popular place) the way they tell you is so charming you can't be frustrated.

And that brings me to the back, restaurant area. Wooden panels and open fire, thick curtains and candlelight - winter is definitely the best time to eat here (unless it's nice enough to eat in the garden of course.) I'm told they do a mean roast, but I've not tried it. The regular menu is very good - basic, no-nonsense pub food - fish & chips, pies and "famous-burgers." The wine list is not bad, and there is plenty of real ale choice. Don't miss my favourite picture on the wall - a cartoon of the Plume including, Dionysus, Sappho, Argos, Pan and, 'customers...' Oh - and the loos have pictures of Lord Nelson and Lady Hamilton. Ahhh....

I read on one website that the Plume of Feathers has a ghost - a friendly old gent who sits in the window and raises his glass to you before disappearing. True? Who can tell. It's amazing what you see after a few glasses...

The Vanbrugh

Colomb St, SE10

After a long time of trying to go to The Vanbrugh to eat and failing (there was always some reason why I would walk out again - somehow it felt a little unwelcoming every time I went in - though of course one of those nights happened to be Quiz Night - and quiz nights by their very nature tend to be a bit clique-y) I am a convert. I went for Sunday lunch a week or so ago, and enjoyed it so much I was back in there last night. I've realised that the slightly odd feel really is only around the edges and, once inside it's actually the gem I'd always hoped it would be.

Although it looks "trendy" from the outside, the pub-area is the classic traditional boozer, with an old-fashioned bar, specials chalked on the boards and a cosy atmopshere. I could personally lose the TV screens but let's face it they've got 'em everywhere these days - and it's nothing unusual. You quickly get used to them.

Service is friendly and efficient and I got a greeting from the chefs in the kitchen (as you know, I take note of things like that - if the chefs seem happy, then much else is probably in order.)

The 'restaurant area' is round the back - bare brick walls painted pink, one papered with a trendy design. I'm sure that it used to be all tables, but they seem to have moved some of them into the 'smoking area' now, replacing them with squashy sofas - a good move IMHO.

The food's generally good. The roasts are fine - not the very best I've ever had, but highly respectable and certainly worth a return visit. I had some fish and chips which were very good indeed and they were nicely prepared and presented. The menu (apart from the roasts) changes regularly and the food is properly sourced from decent local suppliers. The wine is also much better than your bog-standard pub stuff.

I guess what I really like about this pub though, is that they make an effort. There is, as I mentioned earlier, a famous quiz night (details on their really rather good website) - but they also do one-off events and film nights, where they roll down a screen and the sofas come into their own. The films are of the indie variety.

There seems to be some sort of dispute over the nice-looking garden, though I'm not sure what it is - noise - size - whatever. I wanted to ask but they seemed a bit busy. I'm sure one of you will fill me in...

www.thevanbrugh.co.uk

Family Pubs

Folks - we just can't get away from pubbery this week!

Tiffany asks:

Are there any proper pubs that don't mind a quiet baby in the late afternoons/early evenings?

The Phantom replies:

This isn't really one for me. I really need to hand this over to the parents who will have far more idea of good places...

Cosy Pubs

Following on from yesterday's discussion, Kelly asks:

Have you got any recommendations for a nice cosy traditional pub in Greenwich? I am looking for one where you can get really settled in for the afternoon/evening with a decent beer. We live in the Ashburnham Triangle and while the nearby pubs are great, they all seem to get modernised and seem to lose a bit of their character. We don't mind travelling to get there either.

The Phantom replies:

Much as yesterday, I have to confess that I haven't found a really old fashioned, traditional pub without a few modern tweaks in Greenwich. Many are perfectly cosy - The Ashburnham Arms, for example, near you, but many have been modernised to some extent. I was mildly impressed with The Kings Arms in King William Walk (though the service left something to be desired) and The Vanbrugh - though I have to admit that it took me about four attempts to visit there as it had such a 'local pub for local people' feel about it (ditto, actually, the Ashburnham. Neither are really cliquey - just a tiny tad.) The Cutty Sark is quite traditional in feel, as is The Plume of Feathers on Park Row, which, thinking about it, is probably my choice.

I guess part of the problem is the amount of money to be made from slot machines, Sky TV and jukeboxes. Many pubs have now installed squashy armchairs and low lighting - and there are even a few fireplaces being reinstalled - but the residual noise level is not conducive to real cosinesss.

Any more suggestions, folks?

The Kings Arms

King William Walk, Greenwich, SE10

Like so many eat-and-drinkeries in Greenwich, the clientele at The Kings Arms is feast or famine. It's either heaving with tourists - or utterly empty. So it took me a while to time it right so that I could go in when it wasn't totally dead, but there were at least a few seats available.

In the today's climate, where pubs are 'regenerated' to the point of unrecognisability at the drop of a knife on laminate, it's rather refreshing to see that The Kings Arms has at least tried to keep that traditional boozer feel. The dark wood panelling with obscure glass panels, the busy red and gold carpet, maroon anaglypta ceiling and un-matched chairs keep the feel, but it's not grotty like one down the road I won't name but which closed recently. It's what I'd call 'cosy' - better, IMHO, in the winter, with its comforting fireplace and low lighting, which can be a bit gloomy in summer (though of course then you'd sit outside in the rather nice beer garden anyway...)

The decor has a local feel - old pictures of Greenwich, especially the Observatory - don't miss the painting above the fireplace which depicts the Observatory during the war, complete with aerial and planes. The rest of the decor tends towards pub knick-knackery - not unpleasant - I confess I quite like the comfort of a load of bits and bobs around me.

When we went in the other day, we were initially drawn by the sign advertising 'mulled wine,' particularly appealing given the weather. I have to admit we were totally put off when we realised it was an instant mulled-wine machine which somehow just seemed wrong, so it was beer after all. The staff were not at their best - I'm not convinced they had their minds on what they were doing. It took sometime to be served despite the quietness of the evening and even during the transaction I got the feeling that I was in the way of their quiet night.

But the beer is good and the atmosphere (among the locals) seemed friendly. It was an enjoyable visit, and definitely somewhere I'd return, especially since we didn't test the food on the last occasion. BTW, there's an interesting domed glass lantern in the Ladies. There isn't an equivalent in the Gents.

The Royal Standard, or Who Kidnapped the Cuckoo?

Vanbrugh Park, SE3

Stuart reminded me over a month ago that the Royal Standard pub has been refurbished (again) and I actually checked it out myself over two weeks ago, such is the backlog of things I need to write about here. I don't quite know how the more I write, the more intresting things there seem to be to write about. Perhaps these things have always been there - I just never saw it all before...

Stuart thinks that it's a "great success, no pool tables, leather sofas, nice toilets, low volume/ silent sport and the clientele seems to have improved" and I'm inclined to agree on the whole. The entrance is very swanky now, with its cleaned-up pillars and chequerboard tiles, flanked by bay trees. It looks inviting from the outside - though of course that could have been something to do with the filthy night I went, where the rain lashed against me as I battled my way there and hell, The Old Friends would have looked appealing. No. That's not fair. It does look great.

Inside, there are plenty of squashy armchairs and funky bench seats with hip coffee tables (one's made out of what looks like an entire tree root) and modern pendant lights. There are very definite 'sections' which makes this large pub not look too cavernous. Some areas are cosier than others - the section near the garden where even on the night I went a couple of brave souls shivered outside with their fags - is full of newspapers and sofas; others have sit-up-tables and at the far end a strange long 'bar' with stools acts as a break from a long table where a large party sat the night we went, observed by the glassy eye of a stuffed stag's head.

We sat underneath a post-modern cuckoo clock, in a corner that though very comfy and sofa-esque, felt ever-so-slightly too bright under the halogen spotlights. Some of them weren't working, already hanging from their sockets; it must be like the Blackpool Illuminations when they're all on.

But enough of the decor, and onto the fare. The drinks are about average for the area - £ 2.60 for bitter, around four quid for a glass of ok-ish wine (out of a bottle, I'm relieved to report - I went into a pub in Hampstead, no less, the other day and discovered "red" and "white" wine on tap...)

The food is alright - but I wouldn't go any further than that. Stuart had the roast and tells me

"I'm afraid it was disappointing as the veg was boiled within an inch of its life and there were no roast pots (criminal!) but apparently they had been let down by their suppliers (I saw the chef coming in with bags from M&S!). Rest of the party had bangers and mash and burger in a gastropub style (meat comes from Sparkes apparently...) other customers said it was good the day before (oh, that old one - TGP) and the staff were very responsive to my complaint.

We were there in the evening. I had hoped they'd still do pizza - it was one of the things about the last refurb that I had enjoyed - but it's all gone gastropub now. It wasn't all fabulous value for money - £ 2 for a grand total of six onion rings seems a bit steep to me.

The Thai Chicken Curry was pleasant enough - albeit with a sauce that tasted as though it had come out of a jar (perhaps they'd nipped over to M&S that night too.) It came with a single, giant prawn cracker. Is that hip? I don't know - I'm just asking. The assembly-line cookery continued with my seared salmon which, if it had been covered with sauce, would have become one of the other options on the menu. It tasted absolutely fine, even if it was accompanied by what was clearly the potatoes left over from the roast at lunchtime, coated in creme fraiche.

The food isn't bad here. It's just not wildly exciting. Stuart reminds me that they do wi-fi and fairtrade coffee, which would make it a good place to visit during the day for people with laptops and time on their hands.

The cuckoo clock above us suddenly went absolutely berserk, striking again and again. Heaven knows what time it was. I'm still not sure whether someone had half-inched the cuckoo and it was mourning its loss, or whether the pub is too cool these days to actually have a little plastic bird pop out of a silhouette clock.

Go try it out and see what you think. It's not going to give The Narrow a run for its money but I understand that the chain that's bought it (http://www.orchidpubs.co.uk/) intends to chuck money at it - and that can't be a bad thing...

Davy's Wine Vaults

161 Greenwich High Road, SE10

Tucked away the "wrong" side of the station, I bet this little gem gets missed by the majority of tourists. The snob in me avoided it for a while because it was a chain (albeit one that's been going since 1870) but it seems I've been missing out.

It looks so olde-worlde-cute that I had to ask if the decor was actually genuine. Apparently it is - and if it has been 'enhanced,' I buy it. The lady behind the bar told me that it was originally a wholesalers and the sloping floor (which is still sprinkled with sawdust - don't let your coat touch the floor or you'll have some very interesting 'dandruff' when you leave) was so that the barrels could be rolled around more easily. The floor's rakish stance does mean that some of the simple candlelit tables and Windsor chairs are at an interesting angle - but you could always put it down to the number of pints of Davy's Old Wallop, served in pewter tankards, you've had...

To one side of the main bar, there's an old booth, that would have been used for making tallies and taking orders - there appears to be a little office in there now. Barrels are strategically placed, and there is a display of old bottles lit with a low light. It's all very Dickensian - though more Mr Micawber than Bill Sykes, judging from the prices these days...

What's really lovely about this place are all the nooks and crannies - little private areas and odd corners, often very dimly lit indeed. There are several tables just for a very few people, allowing private tete-a-tetes and intimate groups, as well as bigger tables in an adjoining room. Outside there is a yard with some old barrels and seating, which is good for a sunny day, but, considering the weather that's just arrived, will soon only be fit for the most hardened smoker.

You have to step down into the bar, so I was surprised when the lady told me there was a series of function rooms underneath it, which can be hired. They have a separate entrance, so it's not just like hiring the back room of a pub - and you get the whole floor to yourself.

Being underground, there's no natural light of course, but the plan follows a similar pattern to upstairs so are several small/medium/largish labyrinthine rooms which open into each other. They are dimly lit which makes it all very mysterious, and you can decorate them as you wish (nothing permanent, ok?) and there is a funky sound system which will take your ipod. There are also some simple conference facilities - when I sneaked a peek there was a screen and projector set up in one of the rooms, with a flip chart and desks.

If your party's quite small, you can choose to just use one or two of the rooms, though the price is the same however much you use. It's £ 200 per night, which includes staff and the opening of the fully-stocked bar downstairs (the bar itself is fab - looking like a merchant's chest, with dozens of wooden drawers built into it.) There are various menus - from canape to buffet - obviously at extra cost.

I think it would be best for winter celebrations (Christmas would be ideal) as it is very dark and cosy - I'd miss the sun in summer. The only celebrations they're not too keen on are 18th and 21st birthdays as they've had trouble in the past and there can be problems with underage drinking.

But back to the wine bar. They have a large wine list, but I confess I must have chosen poorly. I had a glass of White Burgundy (with which I generally can't go wrong) which was the 'best' of the wines by the glass. Writing now, almost a week later, I can't actually remember anything at all about it - it had very little aroma - or even taste. It wasn't awful - but I would have expected better for £ 5.95.

Davy's do wine tastings on an occasional basis. I will endeavour to visit one (the things I go through for this blog, eh. Darling, it's hell - but someone has to do it...) and report back. The other thing that requires an entry by itself is the separate Davy's Wine Shop just round the corner - but that's also for another day.

The Old Friends

Gwladys Street told me that this 'classic' establishment of olde Greenwich has closed - but I needed to see it with my own eyes before getting too upset...

I checked it out and yes, it has indeed, got that 'closed-for-good' feel about it - huge metal grilles across all the windows and doors, which Gwladys reckons is to keep the old regulars in, but concedes could be the new decor for when it reopens as a crack-den.

I can't work out whether to be delighted or saddenend by the death of this place. In some respects it represents what Greenwich used to be - presumably all the pubs around here were once as unreconstituted as The Old Friends. Some are completely subsumed into takeaways or flats, the only indication that there was ever a place of social gathering, however 'not as we know it' it may have been, some curly ironwork that once supported the sign. Old Greenwich is on its way out; the industrial heart a dot on the west bank of the peninusula that seems to get smaller daily, the traditional residents of East Greenwich unable to afford to live there any more.

On the other hand, the Old Friends was, frankly, horrid. A scruffy exterior and a dingy interior where your feet would stick to the carpet before you could order a pint of Courage Best and the regulars formed a chicane of beer-guts against intruders. I guess you could call it 'local colour' when the chalkboards outside the place let you know that Alvin's disco was on 8 til late or that there would be free seafood on Sunday, but those messages were often just shy of offensive - who can forget "England - Love it or Leave..." Some of them were just plain baffling - I still have no idea what the message about the smoking ban actually meant (though there is a clue later on in this entry...)

I wonder what will become of it? Will it turn into Gwladys's Crack DenTM? Become a trendy wine bar? A chicken takeaway (The Old Frieds, perhaps?) A pachinko parlour? A lapdancing joint? Or, even more depressing than that lot put together, merely morph into 'luxury' flats, the sign of the old boy and his dog and the pub's name carved into the very fabric of the building the only things left to remind us that there was once a place of social (some might say anti-social) interraction here.

Much as I disliked the Old Friends for being a scuzzy old den, it was, at least, some kind of public venue which provided a service for some people. I don't have much expectation that it will be transformed into anything more exciting. Maybe the coming of whatever will be on the old hospital site will be its salvation, but in the meanwhile, I have actually found somewhere that - and you won't hear this too often - I would positively welcome Frank Dowling taking over. Of course he wouldn't touch it with a barge pole - but in this one particular case, he would certainly have my blessing. Without him - or someone similar, I hold out little hope.

No - I prefer to remember the good times - those sepia-tinged, halcyon days of yore when you could buy a pint of pale ale and a glass of port and lemon for your lady friend, enjoy a pickled egg together while Roger Romantic sang songs of love every Saturday night, and still have change of a groat for the bus home. I have included a lovely picture for you to remember the old place by. Incidentally, the picture also, perhaps, gives a small clue as to the closure of this hallowed boozer. The little sign in the window says "Smoking permitted throughout..."

Rose & Crown Refit

Stockwell St SE10

We were all a bit concerned when the Rose & Crown suddenly shut down a few months ago. Bitter experience has often seen such an event followed by a designer refit and a takeover from a well-known local chain, and some column inches both here and elsewhere were taken up with rumour and speculation as to what would happen to this much loved, gay-friendly boozer.

It re-opened a couple of weeks ago, but it's taken me a little while to actually get there to test it out. Firstly, it absolutely, definitely isn't Greenwich Inc, and it looks like it. They've made an effort - trendy wallpaper with floral designs and industrial 70s-esque lights hanging from the ceiling over the bar. But much hasn't changed and actually this refit still leaves the pub ever-so-slightly un-hip, of which I approve. I don't feel entirely comfortable in places that are so fashionable they set my teeth on edge, and this refit, though making a big effort, has managed to kept a quaintness that works.

Bombadier is the only 'proper' beer I could see - the choice isn't fabulous - and despite the ENORMOUS framed chalk board with an initially sumptuous-looking wine list, a closer peek reveals that it really consists only of the Jacobs Creek / E&J Gallo variety - nothing at all out of the ordinary, which is a shame.

As I approached the newly spruced-up, but still traditional-feeling exterior (which does look good) it looked really full, though I quickly realised that of course it was going to be busy outside - that was where all the smokers go these days. I stepped inside, earning myself quite a look from Olivier seated opposite who clearly thought I was some kind of turncoat for not going into his establishment, and easily found a seat indoors.

It's a pleasant, friendly sort of pub, and though the drink isn't the best I've ever had, it was a nice enough place to while away some time before going to the cinema. But I have one concern.

While I was there, it seemed that the clientele had fundamentally changed. When I first arrived, there were only what looked like local teenagers drinking there. Plenty of them, but very obviously straight. Rather later I spotted one gay couple coming in, and there are a couple of posters in the loos advertising gay events, but I was surprised.

Tell me, folks. Is this still a mainly gay pub? And what do you think of the refit?

Rose & Crown update

I'm told that the Rose & Crown will be re-opening on or around the 17th May. I have no idea whether it is the old owners who have just refurbished, new owners sympathetic to the old clientele - or new owners with aspirations to change its character. All I know is that I'm pretty sure it's not Greenwich Inc. The best way to ensure it keeps its (much-appreciated) style, I guess, is to frequent it.

Cheers, Mr Anon, for the tip-off...

The Hill

Royal Hill, SE10

I've heard and read very different opinions and reviews of this pub. I rather wonder whether those who don't like it miss the old Barley Mow, (not that I ever went in it - it didn't really appeal to me. Presumably, if it closed, it didn't appeal to anyone else either.) What is it, by the way, landlords don't like about pubs called The Barley Mow? Gordon Ramsay's new place, The Narrow, used to be The Barley Mow, too. Maybe there will be a backlash - like, thank God, there seems to be with pubs called stupid names in the 80s and 90s reverting to their original titles - witness The Frog & Radiator's 'new' name The Ship & Billet.

But I digress (again...) Back to The Hill.

Personally - I like it. It's not a drinker's boozer, really, better described as a gastropub. It does Adnams Bitter but not much else other than the usual lagers. Sometimes the waiters forget to mention the bitter, so if you don't order at the bar, then at least go there in case there's anything else that's been forgotten.

Outside it's been tarted up with white paint, the Victorian tiles highlit rather nicely. Inside, it's all stripped floorboards, pale walls and candles - which I don't dislike - and the main eating area is up a couple of steps at the back, with a small dividing wall containing an old stained glass window. Outside there's a little garden with the omnipresent decking - not wildly exciting, but then so many pub gardens aren't. I wish more of these places would put a bit of effort into making their gardens as nice as their interiors.

The food has always been good when I've been there, though rather pricey for what it is - a salad I had the other day was definitely a bit thin on the plate.

I particularly enjoy the fish and chips - especially the rosemary chips, which I've been known to order as a standalone meal. Juicy and fat, and excellently cooked, they're definitely the best thing about The Hill.

The service varies. I've not found the waiters bolshy or inattentive, more absent-minded, really. They're usually friendly and eager to please but they can be a bit hap-hazard - they'll take ages to bring your meal, forget to mention special items (or beer) on the menu then ask three times if the food's ok.

The Hill is somewhere I return to on only an occasional basis, but always look forward to doing so.

The Spanish Galleon

Katja asks:

Does somebody know what is going on with Spanish Galleon pub in the heart of Greenwich town centre? It has been closed for few days and there is clearly some building work going on, but haven't got a clue what's happening.

The Spanish Galleon is a Shepherd Neame pub, so unless it was doing stupendously bad business (unlikely) I doubt if it's gone for good, or that Our Frank has got his paws on it. My best guess is a refit before the tourist season is truly upon us. I confess I hadn't noticed its being shut - not been to the market in the past week or so due to vast numbers of visitors (not tourists, my own visitors, I mean...) I tried to call them but to no avail. I'll send them an email and ask. That often does the trick...

The Ashburnham Arms

Ashburnham Grove SE10

Estate Agents hyperventilate over any property that comes onto the market in "The Ashburnham Triangle" (more about that another day) - they know they can make huge profits and easy sales. The people who live there realise this, and make sure that it stays nice.

This is pretty much exactly what you might expect in an area as swanky as this - a local mid-Victorian boozer updated for what is clearly a local community who actually use it.

I guess from the wine-bar-ish decor, it's not long been refurbished - wood panelling around bottom of the walls, a fireplace stripped back to the brick, squashy armchairs at the back and a rather splendid painting of a sort of abstract map of Greenwich - The Ashburnham Arms marked with an A, of course. There's a little conservatory at the back. Frankly it could have been done a little better, in my humble opinion - it feels a bit hastily-done, but it nevertheless provides nice surroundings in which to enjoy a quiet pint.

The beers are by Shepherd Neame (allegedly the oldest brewery in the country) who are presumably trying to meet head-on other top pubs in the area such as The Union. The punters are clearly well-heeled regulars, and they clearly love it. I'm told the food is home-cooked and lovely - but whenever I've been in I've always managed to be too late (tsk...)I will make an effort to be there when the food is still on and report back.

The pub takes a bit of finding, and I suspect the locals count on this. The piano player doesn't quite stop when you walk in (though maybe they would if the place actually had a piano...) and it's not an unfriendly look you get as you walk in, but there is an-ever-so-slight raising of heads and a 'not from these parts' atmosphere. And Quiz Night is definitely not a time to be a stranger here.

Would that there were more 'local pubs for local people' of this quality. The Ashburnham knows it audience and plays to it (if sometimes to the very slight exclusivity of others.)

The Ashburnham Arms is the local meeting place for our local Morris dancers, the Blackheath Morris Men. I daresay they'll be out in force on St George's Day...

BTW the loos are quite fun - two separate entrances leading to one room divided by a low glass barrier. His & hers sections, then a glass wash basin each, next to each other by the barrier so you can spoon over the soap.

The North Pole

Greenwich High Road, SE10

A venue on three floors - A young, funky bar on the ground floor, a smart restaurant upstairs and a groovy nightclub The South Pole downstairs.

I first went to the restaurant in the 90s before I moved to Greenwich, for a business lunch, and I guess I'd always associated it with business lunches ever since and not bothered visiting. At the time it had only been open for a week and it was dazzlingly fresh and smart. Giant chandeliers with glass bowls hung from the ceiling, complete with goldfish swimming round and round; large bowls of fresh gladioli stood in the window sills, surrounded by deep swag curtains. I remember wondering at the time how long that all would last - not least because the only way to feed those fish would be to climb on a stepladder, and the only way to clear them out would be to take the whole chandelier down.

There is a separate entrance for the restaurant, but it isn't always used, so that the way in is through the hip bar below. Richly dark, the partition walls inside are punctuated with water feature windows - slim tanks of underlit water which constantly bubble up creating a virtual net curtain. The main bar is dark and intimate, with light fittings made from pieces of chandelier glass, the "VIP" lounge area at the back louchely furnished with outsize sofas in cowskin. The only things that spoil the effect are the four SKY TV screens constantly blaring out the Live Match, making it impossible to escape from the telly, and totally breaking any funky atmosphere the place might have had.

I did have a little smile at one online review which talks about how some guy had come along to watch a big En-ger-land match and complained at the lack of tasty female talent in the bar...

The way up to the restaurant is via a spiral staircase, lit by disco rope lights, just this side of tacky. At the top, a gigantic old-fashioned chandelier is a very welcome sight.

The atmosphere above is very different to that of the bar . Dark red painted walls and heavy swag curtains at the windows affect a much more classy air, the high ceilings hi-lit by twinkling fairy lights. There are two rooms - one dominated by a baby grand piano, which is played from time to time which is rather nice (personally I'd avoid the Rat Pack tribute evenings where some bloke pretends to be Dean Martin or Frank Sinatra - no one can imitate Sammy - but some people like that sort of thing...) It is, unsurprisingly, decorated with framed black & white photographs of Rat Pack favourites - a slightly tired idea now, but then I guess this was decorated in the 90s.

The "Fine Dining Room" next door is divided with a glass door. The decor is much the same save that the framed pictures have a more botanical theme.

The food is modern European. The menu is appealing, with some really nice options. My companion's fois-gras was tasty and came with a sauce that virtually saw him licking the plate. Some of the presentation is a bit cliched - am I the only person who's getting a bit bored of the "tower of food" concept where everything's placed on top of everything else with an artistic drizzle of sauce - sorry, jus - around the outside? Still, it tasted very good indeed - and you can't knock that.

The Lamb Chump was equally good - generous portions and nicely presented. My risotto was a little less exciting - a watery basic-stock relying on the flavour of the additions for taste - but it was well-cooked and nicely filling.

The service was sweet and attentive. Our waitress was on her own and only just managing, juggling opening our wine with trying to take a booking on her mobile phone. That's hardly her fault. She was chatty without being intrusive, friendly and very human. She told us that she'd been attacked on her way home to Brockley so many times that she now gets a cab home when she finishes at 2.00am (not paid for by the management.)

I had noticed that the chandelier in the "fine dining room" still had some (rather murky) water in it and a piece of pondweed floating on top, but no goldfish. Our waitress told us, almost with tears in her eyes, that it had just died. She feeds the goldfish herself and when one dies she gets very upset. She climbs a ladder to get to them, but the water's not as clear as it could be because she's not strong enough to lift down the light fitting and has to rely on someone else to do it.
So. Another mystery solved.

I like the North Pole. I wouldn't visit the bar on an important match day, but the restaurant is still pretty smart (even if the glads have now been replaced by artificial flowers) the food is good and the service very sweet indeed.

Rivington Grill

The Picturehouse, Greenwich High Road, SE10

Now here's a place whose opening was almost as anticipated in this household as the Picturehouse itself. It was an empty space for so long after the cinema opened that we began to worry that it would stay empty forever. Even when we heard the opening date, when we walked past two days before the grand event, it was STILL empty.

They did manage to open on time (albeit the first night was a bit chaotic - but then what's a first night without a spot of healthy chaos?) and I confess that this is one of my preferred restaurants in Greenwich.

It's the South-Eastern sister of Mark Hix's eaterie in - naturally - Rivington St, Shoreditch, and part of the swanky Caprice chain which most famously owns the Ivy. I slightly supsect that this is the poor relation of the chain - I can't quite explain why - I just don't get the feeling that it's actually visited very often by the owners. I wonder if this is the beginning of a chain of "Rivingtons" rather than a quirky one-off (or, to be more precise, a two-off.)

That's not to say it isn't a really nice local restaurant. It's bright and airy on a sunny Sunday morning, warm and cosy on a dark November's night, with lots of glass doors and dark wood, plain walls and the odd antique (there's a huge ex-railway-looking clock which sadly doesn't work) which gives it a nicely timeless feel (literally, in the case of the clock.)

Downstairs at the bar there is a snack menu chalked up on a blackboard - modern twists on traditional British fare - in fact there is an extremely strong British slant on the whole menu and the list of suppliers is a who's who of British Foodie Producers. The rest of the restaurant has an interesting menu which does feature the odd seasonal dish (a rhubarb creme brulee I once had was utterly divine and lingers in my memory as much as my waistline) but carries a basic repertoire which doesn't seem to have changed since the place opened.

Not that I'm complaining. Dishes such as Eggs Benedict, Suckling Pig, Lyme Bay Scallops and my personal favourite, Smoked Haddock with Poached Egg and Colcannon are nicely presented and the wine list has some interesting bottles. One of these days I'm going to get a group together for one of their 'banquets' where a whole suckling pig or seasonal game birds are presented for the entire table.

The Rivington has two problems, in my humble opinion. The first can be easily solved, the second I'll have to live with.

The first is its smoking policy. It doesn't have one. Despite having two very distinct areas which could be separated for smokers and non-smokers, anyone can smoke anywhere. Now I'm not a rabid anti-smoker, but I do object to trying to eat my food whilst surrounded on three sides by entire tables of people puffing away. They might be in between courses, but I'm not and they are less than two feet away from me. It's hardly a conducive way to enjoy Mark Hix's carefully-chosen menu. This would be more of a problem if it wasn't going to be solved in July, but this to me is an example of my feeling that this place plays second-fiddle to the Shoreditch branch - we've had TWO YEARS of this non-policy when it could so easily have been sorted out so that smokers and non-smokers could have both enjoyed a meal in harmony. Nobody's actually bothered to consider it.

The second is the prices. The food is good - and the sourcing excellent, but I can't quite feel that it warrants the money that you pay for it. It's just a teeny bit pricey for what you get. It tends to be a meal that we eat as an occasion in itself rather than as an accompaniment to the cinema - when you're paying prices like that you don't want to be rushed - you want to enjoy the place as a destination.

All things said, though, this is definitely one of the better restaurants in town. And it will be even better in July...

http://www.rivingtongrill.co.uk/

The Frog & Radiator/ Ship &Billet

Matt from Londonist asks:









"Is the Frog & Radiator still there? Not the best pub ever - but what a name."

As the splendid name, no, but that's not such a bad thing. It had been pretty grotty for some time. It went through a rather schizophrenic period a year or so ago where it couldn't decide who it was anymore. It suddenly closed down overnight - the circumstances looked a bit iffy if you ask me, but I don't know any details.

Next thing we knew it had re-opened, half done-up. That strange Frog and Radiator sign was still there, as was the name above the pub, but it had that frosted-glass effect on the windows which clearly called itself the Ship & Billet (does anyone know if this is the pub's original name?) It stayed like this for months before finally getting the rest of its revamp and finally got a 'proper' sign with a nice ship on it.

I have to say that it does look pretty smart now, though as all owners of pubs will know, they don't get to choose their clientele and smart though it may look, you see the same regulars as ever going in. On Saturday nights they have discos, with bouncers outside and I have seen posters for live music which is NEVER a bad thing, but I haven't actually been to any.

But I'll give them this. It looks great from the outside in a street that needs all the help it can get.

BTW the sister pub in Deptford, The Frog and Nightgown, also seems to have bitten the dust some time ago.

The Coach and Horses

A splendid little pub on the South-west corner of the Market, the Coach and Horses has a traditional white-rendered exterior with old fashioned lanterns, and a comfy modern interior which manages to be both cosy and minimal at the same time. The drink's a bit on the pricey side - but I guess that's just London for you. The pub menu is consistently yummy, interesting and just that little bit different - though it rarely seems to change much in itself. It gets hideously overcrowded on market days when it's hard to find anywhere to sit either inside or on the benches spilling onto the marketplace, but at other times its much less hectic and the service is understandably less frenzied.

The Spread Eagle

Crooms Hill

Yup, folks - it's the one you've all been waiting for...

A long one today - sorry.

I hadn't intended to visit the newly-refurbished Spread Eagle last night - I had a dinner date in central London - but it all went pear-shaped so I decided to have a drink there - as a taster for visiting properly later. Somehow, though, once we were inside we ended up going for the works after all...

I hadn't wanted to like the Spread Eagle. It annoyed me that yet another Greenwich institution had been corporatised by Greenwich Inc, which until the refurb had at least not done too much to the actual look of the place. I loved those little cubby-holes for private dining and the quirky décor. As soon as we found out that it was closing to redevelop, we went one last time so that we would have some sort of "control" meal to compare with the new-look S.E. It was good, interesting food, on the whole - we had the tasting menu, if memory serves, and it was perfectly satisfactory. I drank in the décor for the last time and "enjoyed" the splendid sink in the upstairs ladies' loo (ask any girlie who's been.)

Our other great loss was the ramshackle 'antiques' shop next door - which had originally been owned by the former proprietor of the Spread Eagle restaurant. I used to love that staircase leading up into gloomy labyrinthine bookshelves and down into even gloomier domestic paraphernalia. It was a "proper" antique shop - covered in dust and thoroughly enjoyable. It had a very long closing down sale and then one day it was gone.

We've been pressing our noses against the glass since then. For a while we started to wonder if they were actually going to bother re-opening - nothing seemed to be happening - then all of a sudden it was done. Swept away were the cubbyholes and the dusty antiques, brought in were giant chandeliers, downlighters and dozens of paintings on the wall.

And it's those paintings which will be the main selling-point of the new Spread Eagle. I had no idea about this collection - built up by the former owners of the restaurant, the Moy family, including the eccentric Dick Moy, last in line. Presumably it was kept in their private house or somewhere else out of public view because yesterday was the first I knew about it. I'd heard there were paintings of Greenwich in the new restaurant - but I'd expected cod junk-shop prints and auction-house finds.

What is actually here is extraordinary. It's a collection that easily outnumbers and perhaps outclasses that of the Queen's House's ground floor gallery, and what some of the earlier paintings lack in "Old Master"ness they make up for in quirk, local and historical interest and - well - sheer numbers. Each of these works is utterly fascinating - from a local person's, a historian's and an art lover's view and although the tables get in the way a bit, if you go on a quiet day, you shouldn't have too much difficulty walking around - every wall in the place is covered - yes - the corridors, loos, staircases too. The modern work is just as interesting - Dick Moy patronised a couple of local artists as well as the odd famous one.

What's even better is that they give you a full-colour glossy catalogue with your meal so that you can contextualise the work while you eat. My favourite? I can't decide between a delicate Tissot etching and a print of a strange-looking ruin in Westcombe Park that I'd never heard of. If you don't read it all you can take the catalogue home as a gift.

But onto the restaurant. Yes, they've lost the cubby-holes. Yes, they've lost the quirk. Yes, they've lost the joyful antiques shop next door. But what they have lost in character, they've made up for in elegance. This is a HANDSOME refurbishment - the walls (what you can see of them under the paintings) a delicate shade of green, the coving picked out in white. Downlighters give it a modern feel and if there are a few too many tables set for my liking - it's a little squashed - they are at least splendid.

The least successful bit, IMHO is the first room - the bar - which has the tables set around the walls like a cross between a public bar and a waiting room, which, I suppose, is exactly what it is. They've kept the lovely cast-iron staircase and I noticed a little piece of what must be the original wooden fittings behind it that they've left bare - a nice touch. The bar at the back remains the same in essentials.

The main dining room downstairs feels very classy and they sat us in the unchanged bay window - my favourite position - though I suspect it was more to make the place look full than to please me. The paintings dominate, of course, but are not by any means an unwelcome intrusion. Next door, the private dining room in the old antiques shop ground floor is splendid - a fine place for a special birthday meal. The central chandelier is as sumptuous from inside as it is from the street. Upstairs is another little room - also cute, and the main dining room is much the same as downstairs - but worth making the trip to see just for the art works.

The service is friendly - though virtually nobody spoke good enough English to make anything other than basic orders - certainly questions would have been hard work, though the guy in charge seemed a bit better than the general waiting staff.

The menu looks very similar to the one before the refurb. We didn't bother with the tasting menu as it didn't look different enough, and went for the two-course option instead. My scallops were nicely done - not rubbery, though rather swimming in sauce and the sliced vegetable they came with was unidentifiable. It was cream and tasted of absolutely nothing but was very crunchy so had been clearly included for the texture. I thought it might be Jerusalem Artichoke, so I chewed very thoroughly (they're not called Jerusalem Fartichokes for nothing, you know) but it wasn't nutty enough to be that, so I'm plumping for celeriac. It wasn't unpleasant - and the crunch was welcome. My companion (note the restaurant-critic-speak) chose seared tuna which was divine.

The mains were also perfectly good. My Companion (there it is again...) chose the beef, which was enjoyable, if accompanied with rather chewy pancetta. I had the cod - which tasted wonderful - but not like cod. Or indeed any fish. It was juicy and succulent, and flaked beautifully. Caramelised and gorgeously browned in all the right places it was utterly lovely - but not anything like cod. I'm not sure what it tasted like actually. Sweeties, I guess. Yum.

There's an odd mix here between cutting-edge and curiously old-fashioned cookery. It's presented in a modern enough style, but some of the techniques seem to mask the actual flavour of the food. We didn't have desserts - but they seemed standard fare - the usual crème brulée-type options and the omnipresent pot au chocolats for the addicts. I will also watch with interest to see whether the menu ever changes.

I didn't dare ask for any wine advice - there didn't seem to be an obvious sommelier on duty - whose opinion I'd normally ask for a tricky combination of white fish and beef. So we plumped for a red Sancerre - light and fresh, but not, perhaps, worth the £38.50 they were charging for it. Frankly, I'd preferred the bog-standard Viognier I'd had with the first course at 3.95 a glass.

I am still in the dark as to the tipping policy at the Spread Eagle. I asked our waiter about the service charge but his English was so poor he couldn't make himself understood. We decided to send back the bill and get the service charge removed so that we could give cash as a precaution, and the guy in charge came to speak to us. He tried hard to explain, but I still don't get it. It seems to be ok but it's difficult to be absolutely sure. More research is needed.

Much as I hate to say it, the Spread Eagle is still the best restaurant in town. It's not going to get any Michelin stars in the near future, but the food is good, tasty (if somewhat unexpected sometimes) and well-presented. The place itself looks fantastic and it's worth a visit if only for those paintings. If I were visiting for the first time and hadn't known what was there before I'd say it was wonderful. It's only with the benefit of knowing what was there before that you get the slightest uncomfortable feeling that something has been lost...

Check out Andrew Gilligan's review in the Standard for another resident's view of things.


Oh - and that sink's still there upstairs in the ladies' loo...

The Trafalgar Tavern

The Trafalgar is an imposing building indeed. Beautifully Regency in design and a real landmark if you're travelling down the river. It's one of Greenwich's most famous buildings and has been so for literally centuries.

Dickens wrote about its whitebait suppers with equal amounts of joy and misery "There is no next morning hangover like that which follows a Greenwich dinner" he grimly noted - presumably with his head upside down in the new-fangled water closet. He mentions it with a little more decorum in "Our Mutual Friend."

The Victorians loved it - and the entire cabinet would meet in the upstairs rooms of the Trafalgar (well the Liberals, anyway - the Torys preferred the Ship) and guzzle whitebait whilst discussing affairs of state. Artists adored its classical looks - there are several famous paintings either of the place itself or the view from it.

It's floodlit at night and there are few pleasanter places to spend a lazy summer evening outside, chomping goodies from the barbeque, even given the creepy new sculpture of Nelson, which resembles a curiously well-endowed amphibian.

The Tavern's still in pretty good nick inside too, though in my opinion it has lost a lot of the joy it used to have in favour of being a tourist trap and venue for dull corporate events.

Downstairs the original iron stoves and huge fireplaces are offset by big squashy armchairs (almost impossible to find an empty space in one of these) and the giant bay windows afford splendid views of the river (it's almost impossible to find a space there, too.) The restaurant part is adorned with maritime portraits, mainly of Nelson and his captains, though a bust of the man himself was stolen a year or so ago. A reward for its recovery still stands.

Upstairs there's a fabulous ballroom, complete with columns and giant chandeliers. There's also the Admiral's bar - much more intimate and very cute indeed.

The food's ok, though please bear in mind that this is a Greenwich Inc. establishment so always ask your waiter about the tipping policy. The fish and chips are not as good as next door in The Yacht, though this is offset by the surroundings at the Trafalgar. If you can deal with the environmentalist guilt, you can even still buy whitebait.

Since Greenwich Inc took over, live music has virtually ceased at The Trafalgar, save for the odd "special" night that they've been embarrassed into. I remember when there was a jazz club every week (well-attended) and sundry classical recitals. Forget that - it clearly doesn't bring in enough cash for Greenwich Inc.

Nowadays the only way you're really going to get any interesting entertainment is by hiring the venue yourself, and you had better start saving NOW. It is seriously pricey - a friend of mine recently looked into a party there for his 40th Birthday. He was prepared to push the boat out - and he's not short of a quid or two, believe me, but even he went off with his tail between his legs. Your best bet is to ingratiate yourself with a dull city financial institution or tedious ad agency and blag yourself into their do, though all I can guarantee is the view - the entertainment might not be so much fun...

The Gypsy Moth

The GYPSY MOTH


Sadly the real Gypsy Moth (The Gypsy Moth IV to be exact) was looked after so badly while it resided next door to the Cutty Sark that it had to be carted away to be restored before it fell to pieces completely. A great shame, since Queen Elizabeth II had knighted its skipper, Sir Francis Chichester, in Greenwich after his record-breaking sail around the world in 1966/7 with the same sword with which Queen Elizabeth I had knighted Sir Francis Drake some 400 years earlier. But hey. We obviously can't be trusted to look after our toys and it has been taken away from us. Maybe that will be a lesson to us to keep supporting the Cutty Sark restoration before we lose that too.

By the way, I recently met the guy who bought the Gypsy Moth IV, and was relieved to hear that its days of decline are over. Paul Lister, heir to the MFI fortune, bought her for a pound and a gin and tonic in the way that eccentrics toffs do and restored her completely. He formed a charity to help kids learn to sail and now she is once again sailing the seven seas, this time with a somewhat younger crew. His new project is to reintroduce bears and wolves to the Scottish Highlands. Hurrah for eccentric toffs...

In Greenwich, meanwhile, The Gypsy Moth is remembered in the name of the pub nearest her old mooring. Because of its proximity to all the tourist sites this noisy pub gets very full indeed in the summer months despite - or perhaps because of - a boisterous beer garden at the back. Not the place to go for a cosy chat - but great fun if you're with a bunch of mates out for a drink and a laugh in a good atmosphere. It serves food too - but to be honest I've never tried it. I hear it's bog-standard pub fare.

I was sad to see the death of the coins, medals and memorabilia shop next door. This seemed to have been there for ever, its display of military helmets, old toy cars and dusty medal ribbons quietly sitting in this unassuming little store. To my shame I never went inside - it was just always there - something to go in and browse next time. Clearly I wasn't alone in this - one day I walked past and realised it was gone. I felt an almost palpable sadness - and a slight pang of guilt. If we don't visit these quaint little shops and patronise them with more than a nod and a smile, then we'll lose them and our town centre will end up some kind of theme park - like Covent Garden and Carnaby Street have become - the little quirky stores which made them great forced out by chain stores wanting a piece of the action, leaving them mere caricatures of the places they once were.

The Art Deco shop Decomania, recently suffered the same fate. Frankly I never went in because I was intimidated by the swankiness of it all - I couldn't have afforded a single item - but I mourn its passing all the same. I must make a mental note to visit these one-offs on a regular basis...

The Rose and Crown

A boisterous, busy, mainly gay bar which isn't anti-straight. A pub along traditional lines, this is warm, welcoming and friendly. I've always found it a good - if rather smoky - bar, and never failed to have a good time. The Rose & Crown doesn't do food - but the atmosphere hots up as the evening progresses - so definitely one to go to later on.

Bar du Musee

Situated on Nelson Road, the Bar du Musee is a more-or-less happy marriage of the traditional and the modern. After a recent expansion when Greenwich Inc. took over, it's brighter and more modern than the intimate little bar of yore, but not necessarily a bad thing for all that. The previous owner - a local 'character' - gave it a curious, French atmosphere and there is much of that feel remaining. At the front, in the bar area itself, the bare brick walls, low lighting and louche furnishings give it a decadent style, and the little iron spiral staircase leading to the basement invites further exploration. Ideal for a chilly winter evening, the French air about the place seducing you into ordering just one more bottle of red wine...

For a classic British summer's day, however, the larger area - still brick walled, but with a giant glass conservatory roof, is bright and airy on the wettest, greyest afternoon. With trendily mis-matched furniture and covered in paintings - from salvaged oils to local prints, the conservatory has a lived-in feel, added to by a odd mix of continental tin adverts and strange antique-y objets d'art. Outside, on the terrace, there are too many hardwood chairs and tables and the obligatory parasols, with a minimalist garden border of box and other greenery presided over by a high fence, which my O'level geographic skills lead me to surmise masks the railway line behind.

The dishes are modern and appetising, and generally taste ok. It's hardly Michelin-star quality - but at least doesn't pretend to be - this is a bar that serves food, not a gourmet experience. This is middle-of-the-road cuisine with a small range of pleasant dishes. There's always a vegetarian option or two and the wine list, though hardly connoisseur-level, isn't terrible. The brunch is good fun - light and tasty, too, though I have never noticed the menu change. Being a coffee snob, I was disappointed when my "Americano" turned out to be exactly the same as my friend's "white filter coffee" without the milk. Britain has much to learn about this hallowed beverage.*

George of Greenwich, the deli next door, which sold outrageously expensive luxury food items to god-knows-who has gradually declined over the past year to virtually nothing. Every time I went in there there seemed to be fewer items on the shelves and more bar seating - connecting through to Bar du Musee at the back. Frankly, to call it a deli now would be a joke. It's just an extension of the restaurant which now seems to be practising the law of diminishing returns - the larger it gets, the less personable. I watch with interest, as the Antiques shop in between, the self-consciously cute "Walpoles" is subsumed into the giant mass of eaterie.

Service at the Bar du Musee is generally pleasant - though can be a bit hap-hazard, especially at weekends when the place is heaving.

It should be noted that Bar du Musee, like all Greenwich Inc eateries, has a bizarre - and controversial - policy on service charges. As with many places they not only include a service charge - but also leave the credit card total empty so you can add a gratuity. That's bad enough - but get this. Do not assume that any service charge you may add to your bill will actually go to your waiter. It goes into the coffers of Greenwich Inc who use it (so they say) to fund a reward system for staff.

Now I don't know about anyone else but I like to reward staff who have served ME - not fund someone else's incentive system. I don't care if my waiter turned up on time that day or helped to clean the floors after hours. That's up to Greenwich Inc - not me - to encourage. I want to tip the service I received. And I can't be sure that it actually ever goes to the staff at all even if they are doing the extra chores that Greenwich Inc require. I have talked to MANY (and I mean many) disgruntled staff in various of Greenwich Inc's places who tell me they never see it. Take my advice - cross out the service charge - adding a note on your credit card bill as to why, if you like - and leave a cash tip for people who rely on gratuities to make up meagre wages.



* Try www.unioncoffeeroasters.com for everything you'll ever want to know about coffee - they know what they're talking about - and are almost local - being based just across the river in Docklands. They do a splendid variety of exceptional hand-roasted coffees ethically produced without making a big deal about it. Their mail-order service is excellent.

The Cutty Sark

This must be one of the oldest pubs in Greenwich - being on the riverfront it has survived when much around it has been lost. It used to be called the Union Tavern but changed its name in honour of our famous guest down the road.

A classic, high brick building with a beautiful bowed front, it commands some great views of Docklands, The Dome and any river traffic that passes. Downstairs it retains its spit-and-sawdust feel (sans the sawdust) with age-blackened partitions, 1930s style stained glass and seats made out of old barrels. The wooden staircase in the middle is fabulous - look up to see wonderful old beams and dusty candelabras. Look down to see carpet that has had so much beer and foot traffic that it is impossible to see any pattern at all. My kind of pub.

In the winter - and on a cool day in summer, the best place to sit is in the bow window on the first floor where you get all the view with none of the cold. In the summer you can sit outside across the cobbled street on benches looking out over the river.

It does all the usual beers and some pretty decent pub food. The burgers especially are good, and the chips crisp and enjoyable. Steer clear of the jacket potatoes if you like crispy skins though. The guy went to great p