Mc & Sons Borough

Just what London needed - another Irish pub attempting to be quirky by serving Thai food. When I first heard about Mc & Sons Borough, I rolled my eyes so hard I nearly sprained an ocular muscle. The concept sounded like something dreamed up during a particularly spirited late-night pub crawl. "You know what would be brilliant? Pad Thai with your Guinness!" No, thank you.

Or so I thought.

I'll admit, it took three separate recommendations from people whose taste I generally trust (and one particularly persistent editor) before I grudgingly made my way to this Borough establishment. The exterior is exactly what you'd expect - traditional Irish pub signage that gives no hint of the culinary identity crisis waiting inside. But here's where my carefully cultivated cynicism began to crack.

The Guinness. Sweet mother of Arthur himself, the Guinness. It's poured with the kind of reverence usually reserved for rare wines or medieval religious artifacts. The perfect creamy head, the exact right temperature, the ceremonial wait as it settles - it's almost enough to make this jaded critic believe in something again. Almost.

But we need to talk about the Thai food because this is where Mc & Sons Borough performs its most impressive magic trick. Instead of the half-hearted fusion nonsense I expected, the kitchen turns out dishes that would make a Bangkok street vendor nod in approval. The drunken noodles arrive with that perfect wok hei char, the kind that makes you close your eyes involuntarily on the first bite. The chicken ka prow special delivers that holy trinity of Thai cuisine - hot, sour, and sweet - with an intensity that suggests someone's Thai grandmother is back there wielding the mortar and pestle.

The space itself is a study in controlled chaos - traditional pub elements collide with Thai decorative touches in a way that shouldn't work but somehow does. Like finding out your straight-laced uncle has a secret life as a successful jazz musician. Live Irish music kicks off around 7PM, creating what must be the world's only venue where you can enjoy authentic som tum while listening to "Whiskey in the Jar."

Service manages to blend Irish hospitality with Thai graciousness, creating an atmosphere that's both boisterous and genuinely welcoming. The staff navigate the cultural mashup with the ease of people who stopped questioning the logic of it all long ago and just embraced the beautiful absurdity.

The pricing sits in that sweet spot where you can't quite complain but still feel compelled to mention it anyway. Your wallet won't be dramatically lighter, but you might need to skip your morning flat white for a few days if you really go for it with the menu. Which you should, by the way.

Let's talk logistics: they take reservations (make one), accept all major cards (how modern), and even have outdoor seating for those three days a year when London weather cooperates. The location in Borough puts it dangerously close to several other excellent drinking establishments, making it all too easy to turn a quick dinner into an impromptu pub crawl.

Dog owners, rejoice - your four-legged friends are welcome, though I suspect this policy was implemented by the Irish side of the operation rather than the Thai. Nothing quite like watching a Golden Retriever try to make sense of the smell of lemongrass and Guinness.

I find myself, much to my professional dismay, needing to recommend Mc & Sons Borough to pretty much everyone. Whether you're a Thai food purist, a Guinness aficionado, or just someone who enjoys watching cultural experiments succeed against all odds, you'll find something to love here. It's the kind of place that makes you question your own cynicism, which is perhaps the highest praise I can give.

Go for the novelty if you must, but stay for the surprisingly excellent execution of everything they attempt. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.