Old Brewery

Just what London needs - another gastropub masquerading as a craft beer haven. The Old Brewery in London's Greenwich district initially struck me as yet another pretender trying to cash in on the city's seemingly inexhaustible appetite for exposed brick and artisanal ales. I arrived prepared to roll my eyes at the inevitable chalkboard menu and reclaimed wood tables. Spoiler alert: I left significantly less cynical than I arrived, though I'm still not entirely happy about it.

Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, the Old Brewery London occupies a historic brewing site, and yes, they won't let you forget it. The industrial-chic interior practically screams "I used to make beer here!" with all the subtlety of a drunk uncle at Christmas dinner. But here's the thing - it actually works. The soaring ceilings and restored brewing equipment create an atmosphere that feels authentic rather than contrived, which pains me to admit.

The service initially seemed to confirm my worst fears. The staff appeared to be operating on Greenwich Mean Time plus several hours, and the ordering system feels designed by someone who's never actually had to order food in their life. Pro tip: don't wait for table service outside - you'll age considerably before anyone notices you're there. However, once you crack the code (hint: go to the bar), the staff transforms from invisible entities to surprisingly competent humans who actually know their stuff about both food and beer.

Speaking of beer - and I can't believe I'm saying this - but they've actually managed to curate a selection that goes beyond the usual suspects. The rotating craft options show genuine thought rather than just throwing IPAs at the wall to see what sticks. They've maintained the building's brewing heritage without turning it into a theme park, which deserves some grudging respect.

The food menu is where my carefully constructed wall of skepticism really began to crumble. The kitchen clearly didn't get the memo about pub food needing to be mediocre. Their fish and chips (because of course I had to try it) arrives with fish that's actually identifiable as having once swum in the sea, rather than just being a vehicle for batter. The sea bass, should you feel fancy, is cooked with the kind of precision that suggests someone in the kitchen actually cares about what they're doing.

They've managed to nail that elusive sweet spot between proper pub and proper restaurant, serving food that's elevated enough to impress but not so fancy that you feel awkward dropping in for just a pint. The pricing sits in that frustrating territory where you can't really complain but still feel compelled to check your bank balance the next morning - though I suppose that's just London for you these days.

Breakfast service starts surprisingly early, and their brunch game is strong enough to warrant getting out of bed on a weekend. The full English breakfast doesn't insult the tradition, and they've even managed to make avocado toast interesting again - words I never thought I'd type without ironic quotation marks.

The outdoor seating area, when London's weather permits its use (approximately 3.5 days per year), offers a rather pleasant spot to while away an afternoon. They're dog-friendly too, which means you'll occasionally have to share space with four-legged guests who are invariably better behaved than their two-legged companions.

What really gets me is how they've managed to be all things to all people without completely losing their soul in the process. It works for family Sunday lunches, business meetings that require something more interesting than a Pret, and date nights where you want to seem culturally informed but not pretentious. The fact that they take reservations already puts them leagues ahead of many London establishments that seem to think queuing is part of the dining experience.

Look, I didn't want to like the Old Brewery London. I really didn't. But much like that friend who keeps dating someone you initially disapproved of, it's grown on me to the point where I've had to reluctantly admit I was wrong. If you find yourself in Greenwich, possibly after realizing the Maritime Museum isn't quite as exciting as you remembered, you could do far worse than stopping by. Just remember to actually go inside to order, and maybe don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.