Mexican Cuisine Pubs in London

Just what London needs - another pub with a try-hard name like Spit and Sawdust trying to convince us it's authentically gritty while serving craft IPAs to tech bros. I approached with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for dental appointments, fully prepared to pen another scathing review about the death of proper British boozers. But damn it all if this place hasn't gone and made me eat my words along with some surprisingly excellent tacos. Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, Spit and Sawdust sounds like it was named by a committee trying too hard to capture some mythical East London edginess. Yet somehow, this London pub manages to wear its carefully cultivated roughness with surprising authenticity. The multi-level space feels lived-in rather than artificially distressed, like your favorite leather jacket rather than the pre-ripped jeans at Urban Outfitters. The beer selection would make any self-respecting hop head weep with joy, though I'm loathe to admit it. Their rotating craft selection shows someone actually knows their stuff rather than just jumping on the IPA bandwagon. And while I fully intended to mock their cocktail program, the bartenders demonstrate the kind of expertise that makes you forgive their occasional man-bun or ironic mustache. But here's where things get truly irritating - they've gone and added legitimately good Mexican food to the mix. I was ready with a whole paragraph about cultural appropriation and bastardized street food. Instead, I found myself face-deep in birria tacos that transported me straight to Tijuana (minus the questionable life choices that usually accompany such trips). Their Wednesday taco special at £2.50 each is the kind of deal that makes you suspicious, until you realize they're actually trying to build community rather than just maximize profits. The space itself is annoyingly well-thought-out. The roof terrace provides views that almost make you forget you're in London's concrete jungle. The beer garden is actually a garden rather than three sad picnic tables next to a bin. They've even added shuffleboard and board games, because apparently, they're determined to make you stay longer than you planned. Dog-friendly without becoming a canine circus, group-friendly without devolving into chaos, and clean without feeling sterile - it's like they're deliberately trying to rob critics of their usual ammunition. Even the live music and comedy nights show actual curation rather than just letting anyone with a guitar and a dream take the stage. The prices sit in that sweet spot where you can't quite complain but also can't quite forget you're in London. You'll drop a decent amount on craft beers and tacos, but at least you won't need to remortgage your flat for a night out. The payment system accepts everything short of crypto (though give them time), and the staff actually seem to enjoy being there, which is suspiciously un-London-like. What's most infuriating about Spit and Sawdust London is how it manages to be both a proper pub and a modern venue without sacrificing the soul of either. It's the kind of place where you can find both your craft beer enthusiast friend and your traditional bitter-drinking uncle feeling equally at home. The locals have claimed it without making it unwelcoming to newcomers, which is some kind of black magic in this city. Look, I don't want to like Spit and Sawdust. I really don't. But much like that friend who keeps dating someone you're determined to hate until you actually meet them, this place forces you to reconsider your prejudices. Whether you're after a casual pint, a taco fix, or a night of entertainment that doesn't involve staring at your phone, you'll find it here. And yes, I'm as annoyed about recommending it as you probably are about adding another spot to your "must-visit" list. But here we are. Just go, before it gets too popular and I have to start hating it again.

In the heart of London, The Pear Tree stands as a testament to the city's evolving pub culture, where centuries-old traditions dance with contemporary spirit. Warm lighting spills from its Victorian windows onto worn cobblestones, creating pools of amber welcome that beckon passersby into its embrace. Inside, the original features whisper stories of countless gatherings, while the gentle hum of conversation fills the space like honey flowing into tea. The pub's interior unfolds like a well-loved novel, each room a new chapter in comfort. Original wooden beams stretch overhead, their dark patina reflecting decades of laughter and libation. Corner nooks cradle intimate conversations, while the main bar area pulses with the gentle rhythm of pint glasses meeting wooden countertops and the soft clink of wine stems. Here at The Pear Tree, London's rushing pace slows to a contemplative stroll. Perhaps the most enchanting surprise lies in the culinary narrative that unfolds within these historic walls. The kitchen, helmed by the beloved Katerina, has transformed this London pub into an unexpected embassy of Mexican gastronomy. Authentic tacos arrive on rustic plates, their hand-pressed tortillas cradling fillings that transport you from London's drizzle to sun-drenched Mexican streets. The pulled pork, a crown jewel of the menu, carries such authentic depth that it's earned passionate endorsements from Mexican natives themselves. The beautiful back terrace serves as an urban oasis, where trailing vines and twinkling lights create an atmosphere that feels both secret garden and social sanctuary. On warm evenings, the space fills with a gentle buzz of conversation, punctuated by the satisfying crunch of proper Mission-style burritos and the appreciative murmurs of diners discovering the house-made guacamole. Dogs doze contentedly at their owners' feet, while churros arrive dusted with cinnamon promises. Inside, the careful balance of old-world pub charm and contemporary comfort creates an environment where both traditional ale enthusiasts and cocktail aficionados find their pleasure. The staff move through the space with an easy familiarity, remembering regular faces and welcoming newcomers with equal warmth. During weekend brunches, sunlight streams through aged glass, casting kaleidoscope patterns across tables where friends linger over coffee and Mexican-inspired breakfast dishes. Live music nights transform The Pear Tree into a different creature entirely, where the melodic notes weave between conversation and laughter, adding another layer to the pub's rich atmospheric tapestry. Groups gather around larger tables, sharing platters of those legendary chicken wings and nachos that have become local legend, while couples find quiet corners to share desserts and whispered confidences. The pub's vegetarian offerings stand as thoughtful compositions rather than afterthoughts, proving that The Pear Tree's culinary ambitions extend beyond tradition to embrace all dietary journeys. Whether you're seeking a quick lunch, a leisurely dinner, or a weekend celebration, the kitchen maintains its high standards across every service, treating each plate as an opportunity to surprise and delight. As evening deepens, the space transforms again. Candlelight flickers across Victorian tiles, conversations mellow like fine wine, and the outside world feels beautifully distant. The Pear Tree becomes more than just another London pub – it's a gathering place where memories take root and grow, where the simple act of sharing food and drink becomes something approaching ceremony. Step through The Pear Tree's doors and become part of its continuing story. Here, in this corner of London where history meets contemporary comfort, where Mexican flavors find their home in a British pub, there's always room for one more tale, one more toast, one more evening that stretches pleasantly into night. Your table awaits.