Long Bar

Just what London needed - another swanky bar with an unimaginatively literal name. The Long Bar at the Sanderson Hotel stretches across the space like an attention-seeking runway model, all sleek lines and studied nonchalance. I rolled my eyes when a friend insisted we meet there, bracing myself for yet another overpriced tourist trap trying desperately to convince patrons that proximity to Oxford Street somehow equals sophistication.

I hate to admit it, but the moment you step inside, something shifts. The space manages to be both theatrical and intimate - no small feat for a venue that could easily have descended into chain-hotel mediocrity. The bar itself, a gleaming 80-foot expanse of white stone, draws you in like a moth to an exceptionally well-designed flame. It's the kind of place that makes you want to order something ridiculous and Instagram-worthy, even while your inner cynic protests.

Speaking of drinks - and I can't believe I'm saying this - the cocktail program here is actually worthy of your time and money. The bartenders (or "mixologists" if you're feeling particularly pretentious) demonstrate an expertise that goes beyond the usual London bar showmanship. My skepticism began to crack when Andrea, our decidedly un-precious bartender, created a Frangelico Sour that made me question everything I thought I knew about hazelnut liqueur. It was like discovering your annoying cousin who always shows off at family gatherings actually has genuine talent.

The atmosphere somehow manages to walk the line between see-and-be-seen and genuinely comfortable. The courtyard garden feels like stumbling into a secret botanical experiment, with its living walls and ethereal lighting. It's the kind of space that makes you forget you're mere steps from the shopping masses of Oxford Street - a fact I'm still trying to reconcile with my general disdain for anything this centrally located.

Let's talk about the crowd because it's not what you'd expect. Yes, there are the inevitable suited business types and fashion-forward tourists, but there's also a surprising mix of actually interesting humans. The live music nights (which I attended purely for research purposes, obviously) draw a crowd that suggests London's soul isn't completely dead yet.

The service deserves special mention, if only because it's restored a fraction of my faith in humanity. Mohammad, another standout behind the bar, has an almost supernatural ability to read what you want before you know you want it. It's the kind of intuitive service that makes you forget you're in a city where standoffish indifference is usually considered good customer relations.

For groups (because apparently some people still enjoy socializing), the space works surprisingly well. The layout offers enough nooks and crannies to make even a larger gathering feel intimate, though you might want to book ahead unless you enjoy the special torture of standing around waiting for a table while watching others enjoy themselves.

As for practical matters: yes, they take reservations, and yes, you should probably make one. The outdoor seating area is a godsend during those three days of actual summer London experiences annually. They accept all major forms of payment, which is good because you'll need them - this isn't your local pub's happy hour pricing, but then again, your local probably isn't serving cocktails that make you question your life choices in a good way.

Here's the thing about Long Bar in London - and I'm gritting my teeth as I write this - it's actually worth your time. Not just for the obvious reasons like the drinks (exceptional) or the space (admittedly beautiful), but because it manages to be exactly what it needs to be without trying too hard. It's like that annoyingly perfect friend who you want to hate but can't because they're actually genuine.

Located in the heart of London's West End, it's inconveniently convenient to everything. Book a table, order something that scares you a little, and prepare to reluctantly add another spot to your "places I actually like" list. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.