Oyster Shed

Just what London needs - another riverside venue with "oyster" in its name. The Oyster Shed joins the city's ever-growing collection of maritime-themed establishments, perched along the Thames like so many eager seagulls waiting to pick at your wallet. I approached with the enthusiasm of someone getting a root canal, fully expecting yet another mediocre attempt at nautical gastronomy.

Look, I'll admit it - begrudgingly - the view isn't terrible. The Shard pierces the sky like some crystalline exclamation point, while the Thames does its best impression of a proper river below. It's the kind of vista that makes you momentarily forget you're in London, until a red bus honks its way into your peripheral vision and shatters the illusion.

But here's where things get annoying: the food is actually good. Properly good. Not "good for a pub" or "good considering the location" but legitimately, irritatingly delicious. Chef Adrian (yes, I'm naming names) has somehow managed to create a menu that makes me angry with its competence. The seafood arrives fresh enough to make you wonder if they've got a secret underwater tunnel to the coast, and the preparation shows a frustrating level of skill.

The oysters (because of course you have to try them at a place called the Oyster Shed) arrive looking like they've just been plucked from some impossibly clean section of the English Channel. They're served with the kind of understated flourish that suggests someone in the kitchen actually gives a damn about presentation. The mignonette sauce achieves that precise balance of vinegar and shallot that makes you wonder why other places can't get this simple thing right.

Their fish and chips - that eternal litmus test of British establishments - manages to be both traditional and subtly elevated. The batter achieves that golden-brown crispiness that makes you want to tap it with your fork just to hear the satisfying crack. The chips (or curly fries, if you're feeling whimsical) are actually seasoned properly, which shouldn't be remarkable but somehow is.

The bar program (ugh, I hate that term, but here we are) is equally competent. The cocktail list walks that fine line between creativity and pretension, landing just on the right side of interesting. Their wine selection shows actual thought rather than just ticking boxes, and the beer options satisfy both the craft enthusiasts and those who just want a proper pint.

Let's talk about the space itself. Six flights of stairs to the toilets might seem like a sadistic architectural choice, but there's a lift if you're feeling less athletically inclined or have had one too many of those expertly mixed cocktails. The upstairs seating area offers the best views, though you'll need to book ahead unless you enjoy disappointment as a seasoning with your meal.

The service manages to hit that sweet spot between attentive and hovering, with staff who seem to actually enjoy their jobs - a rare enough occurrence in London to be worth mentioning. Special mention to Luda behind the bar, whose cocktail skills and genuine warmth make you forget you're paying London prices for your drinks.

Speaking of prices - they're exactly what you'd expect for this part of London. Not cheap enough to be suspicious, not expensive enough to require a mortgage consultation. The portion sizes are honest, which is about the highest praise I can give in an era where some places seem to think we're all on some sort of mandatory portion-control program.

Here's the truly infuriating part: The Oyster Shed has managed to create something that actually works as both a casual after-work spot and a legitimate dining destination. The place gets packed during peak hours, particularly on Thursdays when the City crowd descends en masse, but even then it somehow maintains its composure.

Look, I didn't want to like the Oyster Shed. I really didn't. But if you're going to be in this part of London and you're in need of a reliable spot for anything from a quick drink to a full meal, you might as well give in. Book a table upstairs, order some oysters (because you have to), and prepare to be annoyingly impressed. Just don't blame me when it becomes your go-to spot - I tried to be cynical, but some places simply won't let you.