Birdcage

Just what London needs - another gastropub with a quirky name like Birdcage trying to convince us they've reinvented the wheel of Sunday roasts and craft beer. I approached this East End establishment with the weary resignation of someone who's seen far too many Edison bulbs and exposed brick walls in their lifetime.

Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, Birdcage London sits strategically placed near Columbia Road Flower Market, making it an almost unavoidable pit stop for the Instagram crowd clutching their freshly purchased peonies. I wanted to hate it for this reason alone. The fact that they take reservations (a miracle in itself for London) should have been my first clue that perhaps, just perhaps, they actually know what they're doing.

I'll begrudgingly admit the space works. The interior manages to dodge the cookie-cutter pub renovation template we've all grown tired of, though I spotted at least three vintage mirrors that probably cost more than my monthly rent. The dog-friendly policy means you'll occasionally have to share space with some four-legged influencers, but they're generally better behaved than their owners.

The real surprise - and it pains me to say this - is the food. Their Sunday roast (£18.95) arrives looking like it's auditioning for a food photographer's portfolio, but unlike most pretty plates in London, it actually delivers on taste. The Yorkshire puddings are so good they offer unlimited portions, which initially struck me as a gimmick until I found myself shamelessly requesting thirds. The roast potatoes achieve that mythical balance of crispy exterior and fluffy interior that most pubs promise but rarely deliver.

Their drinks program deserves mention, if only because they've managed to make the mandatory 2-4-1 cocktail happy hour (4-7pm daily) feel less like a desperate plea for customers and more like a genuine treat. The wine list won't enlighten any sommeliers, but it's perfectly serviceable for washing down that roast beef.

Speaking of the beef - it arrives looking like it was carved from some prize-winning cow, pink in the middle and properly rested. The gravy (also unlimited, bless them) has actual depth, suggesting someone in the kitchen knows the value of a proper stock. Even the vegetables, often an afterthought in pub fare, receive respectful treatment, though they could use more variety beyond the root vegetable greatest hits.

The service manages to strike that peculiarly British balance between efficiency and casual familiarity. Yes, you might catch the occasional eye roll from a stressed server during peak Sunday hours, but show me a London pub where you don't. At least here they make up for it with genuine knowledge about the menu and surprisingly prompt attention to empty glasses.

For those seeking refuge from the flower market crowds, the outdoor seating area provides prime people-watching opportunities. You'll have to contend with the elements (this is London, after all), but there's something oddly satisfying about nursing a pint while watching tourists struggle with their oversized hydrangeas.

Price-wise, it sits comfortably in the realm of "you get what you pay for." The Sunday roast won't break the bank, and the portion sizes suggest someone in management actually remembers what it's like to be hungry. The cocktail happy hour makes the otherwise standard London drink prices easier to swallow.

Let's be clear - Birdcage London isn't revolutionizing the pub scene. But in a city drowning in mediocre venues trying too hard to be exceptional, there's something refreshing about a place that simply delivers what it promises. The location near Columbia Road means you'll never have it entirely to yourself, but that's part of its charm (words I never thought I'd type).

Go ahead, book a table for Sunday lunch. Join the flower market masses. Embrace the fact that sometimes the popular choice is popular for a reason. Just don't blame me when you find yourself becoming one of those people who "has a regular pub" in East London. It happens to the best of us.