Greene Man

Just what London needed - another pub with "Greene" in its name. The Greene Man in London's bustling streets promises to be yet another establishment where mediocrity comes served with a side of sticky tables and questionable carpeting. Or so I thought.

Look, I've spent enough time in London's pubs to develop a healthy skepticism of any venue that can't even spell "green" properly, but somewhere between my third reluctant visit and the moment I caught myself actually recommending it to a friend, I realized the Greene Man had pulled off something annoyingly impressive.

First, let's address the elephant in the room - it's actually clean. Like, properly clean. The kind of clean that makes you wonder if you've accidentally wandered into some parallel universe where London pubs haven't been marinating in centuries of spilled ale. The bathrooms - and I can't believe I'm writing this - are borderline spotless. In a pub. In London. I know, I needed a moment too.

The space itself is deceptively vast, with enough room to accommodate both the after-work crowd and the "I'm just here to watch the cricket" contingent without forcing anyone into uncomfortable proximity with strangers. Though at current London prices, you'd expect them to have crammed in at least three more tables and a questionable slot machine.

Now, about the food. I arrived armed with the usual low expectations reserved for pub grub, ready to endure another tepid plate of fish and chips that would make my cardiologist weep. Instead, I found myself facing a steak and ale pie that actually contained - brace yourselves - identifiable pieces of steak. Not mysterious meat-adjacent substances, but proper, tender beef that suggested someone in the kitchen actually cares about cooking. The audacity.

The staff, irritatingly enough, seem to have missed the memo about traditional London pub service requiring at least a hint of disdain. They're helpful. Friendly, even. One server actually brought over a water pitcher without being asked, like some sort of hospitality professional. It's almost unsettling.

For sports enthusiasts (or those seeking an excuse to drink at odd hours), they've got screens positioned strategically throughout, meaning you can catch the match without developing a neck strain. And unlike many London pubs where watching sports means being packed in like sardines, here you might actually be able to see the screen and breathe simultaneously. Revolutionary concept, really.

They've even managed to nail that elusive sweet spot between "lively atmosphere" and "can actually hear your conversation." It's as if someone put actual thought into the acoustics, rather than just assuming that shouting is an essential part of the British pub experience.

The pricing sits squarely in the "London pub" category - which is to say, it'll make visitors from up north choke on their pints, but for the capital, it's surprisingly reasonable. The portions are generous enough that you won't need to stop for a kebab on the way home, which technically makes it economical, if you squint hard enough.

Board games and card games are available, presumably for those moments when conversation runs dry or you need to settle a bar tab dispute through a high-stakes game of Monopoly. The decor manages to be both traditional and tasteful, avoiding both the "time capsule from 1973" and "we just copied whatever BrewDog is doing" aesthetics that plague so many London pubs.

Look, I didn't want to like the Greene Man. I really didn't. But much like that friend who keeps dating someone you initially disapproved of, it's proved me wrong enough times that I've had to reluctantly accept its worth. If you find yourself in this corner of London, possibly seeking refuge from the urban chaos or just in need of a proper pint and surprisingly good pub fare, you could do far worse. And yes, it pains me deeply to admit that.

Make a reservation if you're planning to visit during peak hours - because apparently, I'm not the only one who's been won over by this frustratingly competent establishment. Just don't tell them I sent you. I have a reputation to maintain.