All My Friends

Just what London needs - another "cool" pub with a deceptively casual name like All My Friends. The kind of place that probably thinks exposed brick and Edison bulbs count as personality. I approached with the weary resignation of someone who's seen far too many venues trying desperately to be the next big thing in this city's oversaturated drinking scene.

Let's address the elephant in the room: All My Friends in London is absolutely packed most nights, which would normally have me rolling my eyes into another dimension. But here's the thing - and I hate myself a little for admitting this - there's actually a reason for the crowds.

First, there's that hand-built sound system they're so proud of. Usually, when a venue brags about custom audio, it's just an excuse to blast generic house music at conversation-killing volumes. But whoever engineered this setup actually understands acoustics. The sound manages to fill the space without assaulting your eardrums or forcing you to communicate in interpretive dance.

The two-floor layout shouldn't work, but somehow it does. The ground floor gives you that classic London pub feel minus the sticky carpets and decades of spilled ale, while upstairs transforms into something approaching a house party - if your house parties happened to have professional DJs and actually decent drinks. It's like they took the best parts of a proper pub and a dance venue, then forced them into an unlikely but successful marriage.

Speaking of drinks, they've managed to hit that sweet spot between "won't bankrupt you" and "won't blind you." The beer selection is solid without trying to impress you with obscure craft brews you need a dictionary to pronounce. Their cocktails take a suspicious amount of time to prepare, but unlike most places where bartenders engage in theatrical garnish placement, these drinks actually justify the wait. They're priced exactly where you'd expect for London - which is to say, they'll make you wince slightly but not enough to switch to tap water.

The pizza situation requires addressing. Is it the best pizza in London? Not by a long shot. Is it perfectly acceptable pub pizza that hits the spot after a few pints? Absolutely. They've wisely partnered with Uncle Hons BBQ for those seeking something more substantial, and the Szechuan short rib might be the best decision you'll make all night, besides actually coming here in the first place.

What truly sets All My Friends apart from London's endless parade of trying-too-hard venues is its remarkable ability to be multiple things without failing at any of them. It's a legitimate pub when you want one, a decent dancing spot when the mood strikes, and a surprisingly good place to actually hear what your friends are saying - at least until it hits peak hours and the crowd reaches critical mass.

The outdoor seating area serves as both a blessing and a curse. It's lovely when you can snag a table, but watching the perpetual queue of hopeful smokers eyeing your spot like vultures can add an unwanted edge to your evening. And yes, they're dog-friendly, because of course they are - this is modern London, where not allowing dogs would be tantamount to declaring yourself a joyless establishment.

The staff somehow maintain their composure even when the bar is three-deep with people ordering complicated cocktails, which is either a testament to their professionalism or evidence of an excellent employee mental health program. Either way, it's appreciated.

Here's the truly annoying part about All My Friends in London - it's actually worth the hype. Despite my best efforts to find fatal flaws, it's managed to create something that feels both carefully curated and naturally evolved. It's the kind of place that makes you understand why people brave the London transport system on a Friday night.

If you're planning to visit (and apparently I'm recommending that you do), arrive early or book ahead. Yes, it gets crowded. Yes, you might sometimes wait for drinks. And yes, despite all that, you'll probably end up adding it to your regular rotation of London haunts. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation as a cynic to maintain.