Royal George

Ah yes, the Royal George in London, that stalwart sentinel of mediocrity standing guard across from Euston Station. Another Greene King pub trying desperately to convince weary travelers it's worth missing their train for. I'll admit, I approached with the enthusiasm of someone scheduled for a root canal.

The first thing that strikes you - besides the inevitable wave of nostalgia for when British pubs actually smelled of stale beer instead of industrial cleaning products - is that it's surprisingly not terrible. The Victorian architecture maintains its dignity despite the corporate makeover, like an aging aristocrat forced to wear high-street fashion.

Let's address the elephant in the room: yes, it's a chain pub in central London, and yes, the prices reflect that sweet spot where they're just low enough to prevent outright rebellion but high enough to make you question your life choices. The £7-plus pints might trigger mild cardiac events in visitors from up north, but by London standards, it's practically charitable.

The interior manages to strike that delicate balance between "authentic British pub" and "we've actually cleaned the carpets this decade." The dark wood paneling and brass fixtures give it an air of respectability, while the carefully curated "vintage" decorations remind you that someone in corporate marketing has definitely read a book about Victorian London.

What genuinely surprised me - and I hate admitting this - is the staff. In an era where customer service often ranges from barely conscious to actively hostile, the team at the Royal George London somehow maintains genuine warmth. It's as if they didn't get the memo that working in central London requires a permanent scowl.

The food menu reads like a greatest hits of pub grub, and while it won't win any Michelin stars (shock), it's several notches above what you'd expect from a station-adjacent establishment. The burger, while not quite the towering edifice of meat that Instagram has conditioned us to expect, actually tastes of beef - a novel concept in many London pubs. The mac and cheese displays an understanding of both macaroni and cheese that's frankly surprising.

Now, about those drinks. The beer selection is respectable, if not revolutionary. They've managed to stock both crowd-pleasers and a few craft options that won't make beer enthusiasts weep into their glasses. The wine list exists, which is really all you can ask for in a proper pub. And the cocktails? Let's just say they know their audience - strong enough to make that delayed train less painful, but not so crafted that you'll need a dictionary to order.

The Royal George has done something rather clever with their space. The main bar area maintains that traditional pub atmosphere, while the dining section actually allows for conversation below shouting volume - a radical concept in London pub design. The outdoor seating area, while not exactly the Riviera, provides a decent enough spot for people-watching and questioning the life choices of hurried Euston passengers.

Here's the thing that really gets me: despite my best efforts to maintain professional cynicism, I find myself recommending the Royal George London to people. Not with the breathless enthusiasm of a TikTok influencer discovering avocado toast, mind you, but with a grudging acknowledgment that it serves its purpose rather well. It's reliable in a city that often mistakes unpredictability for character.

For travelers passing through Euston, locals seeking a decent pint, or anyone in need of a meal that won't require a second mortgage, the Royal George stands as a testament to the power of managed expectations. It's not going to change your life, but in a location where it could easily coast on captive audience mediocrity, it actually puts in the effort.

Book a table if you're planning to eat during peak hours - yes, people actually do plan to eat here voluntarily. And while part of me dies inside saying this, the Royal George London has earned its place as more than just another station pub. It's the kind of place that makes you realize sometimes "good enough" is actually, well, good enough.