Rutland Arms

Just what London needs - another riverside pub claiming to be a cut above the rest. The Rutland Arms sits there on the Thames, smug in its prime location, practically daring you not to enjoy yourself. And I'll admit, I walked in with my critic's quill sharpened, ready to skewer yet another mediocre establishment trading solely on its postcode.

But damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my reluctantly softening heart.

Let's start with the obvious - yes, it's perpetually packed, especially when the weather permits outdoor seating. The queue for drinks can sometimes rival the length of a Peter Jackson director's cut. If you're the type who measures their blood pressure in waiting minutes, perhaps scroll on to find somewhere more sedate.

Yet there's something almost admirable about how the Rutland Arms wears its popularity like a badge of honor, never quite succumbing to the tourist-trap temptation that plagues so many London riverside venues. The locals who flood this place - and believe me, they do flood it - have that comfortable familiarity that suggests they've found something worth returning to, time and again.

The interior manages to thread the needle between traditional pub charm and modern functionality - no small feat in a city where "pub renovation" usually means either preserved-in-amber Victorian cosplay or soulless minimalist makeover. Dark wood meets clean lines, with enough nooks and crannies to satisfy both the romantic corner-seekers and the boisterous group-gatherers.

Now, about that food. I've suffered through enough pub grub to develop a pavlovian eye-roll response to any establishment claiming to serve "elevated classics." But the kitchen at the Rutland Arms has apparently decided to take that challenge personally. The menu doesn't try to reinvent the wheel - thank heaven for small mercies - but instead focuses on executing familiar favorites with surprising finesse. The fish and chips actually taste of fish rather than batter, and the Sunday roast could give your nan's a run for its money (though I'd appreciate if you didn't tell her I said that).

The beer selection rotates frequently enough to keep the hop-heads interested without alienating those who just want a reliable pint. And while the prices won't make your wallet weep openly, they'll remind you that you're definitely in London. But at least here, unlike some establishments I could name (but won't, as their lawyers are rather vigilant), you generally feel you're getting what you pay for.

Live music appears regularly, and unlike many venues where that phrase strikes terror into the hearts of conversation-hopefuls, they've somehow managed to nail the volume sweet spot. You can still hear yourself think while appreciating that yes, someone is indeed murdering "Wonderwall" with surprising competence.

The staff, even when visibly overwhelmed during peak hours, maintain a level of affable professionalism that's becoming increasingly rare in London's pub scene. They're quick with a recommendation and quicker with a quip, suggesting they actually enjoy their work - or are exceptional actors deserving of broader recognition.

Dog-friendly without becoming a canine carnival, group-accommodating without devolving into a sports bar atmosphere, the Rutland Arms has achieved something of a miracle in modern London - it's a pub that actually feels like a pub, just one that happens to do everything a bit better than it strictly needs to.

Look, I didn't want to like it. Professional cynicism is my bread and butter. But if you're going to be in this part of London, and you're seeking a proper pub experience with a riverside view that doesn't require taking out a second mortgage, the Rutland Arms deserves your attention. Just don't all rush there at once - I'm rather enjoying having found my regular spot where the staff now knows my usual order. And yes, that's as close to a ringing endorsement as you're likely to get from me. Take it or leave it.