The Angel Oak

Let me tell you about The Angel Oak in London, yet another gastropub that thinks slapping some Edison bulbs on exposed brick automatically equals ambiance. I approached with the customary cynicism reserved for establishments trying desperately to elevate pub fare beyond its humble origins. But damn it all if this place hasn't managed to get under my skin.

First, let's address the elephant in the beer garden - and speaking of which, their outdoor space is irritatingly pleasant, especially when London decides to grace us with its four annual days of sunshine. The Angel Oak has somehow mastered that elusive balance between "proper pub" and "place you wouldn't be embarrassed to take your discerning in-laws."

The interior strikes that sweet spot between trying too hard and not trying hard enough. You know the look - weathered wooden tables that probably cost more than your monthly rent, strategic mood lighting that makes everyone look like they've just returned from a Mediterranean holiday. I wanted to hate it. Really, I did.

But then the food arrived. Now, I've suffered through enough gastropub "innovations" to last several lifetimes, but The Angel Oak's kitchen actually seems to know what they're doing. Their chicken club sandwich - a dish I normally consider the last resort of the culinarily uninspired - arrived like a revelation. The chicken was so perfectly cooked it made me momentarily forget all my accumulated food critic cynicism. The addition of a perfectly runny egg felt like showing off, but I'll grudgingly admit it worked.

The beer selection deserves mention, if only because it saved me from having to endure yet another London pub serving nothing but the usual suspects. They've got enough craft options to satisfy the beard-stroking crowd without alienating those who just want a decent pint. The wine list is surprisingly competent for a place that still has dusty rugby memorabilia on the walls.

Service walks that fine line between attentive and hovering, though they've recently switched from table service to ordering at the bar for food, which feels like a step backward. It's the kind of change that makes you wonder if they're trying to fix something that wasn't broken. Still, the staff manages to maintain that rare combination of actually knowing their stuff while not making you feel like an idiot for asking questions.

Price-wise, it sits in that sweet spot where you can't quite call it a bargain, but you don't feel like you're being robbed either. The quality generally justifies the cost, which is about as close to a ringing endorsement as you're likely to get from me. Yes, you could probably find cheaper pub grub elsewhere in London, but then you'd have to eat cheaper pub grub, wouldn't you?

The crowd is refreshingly mixed - young professionals pretending they can afford to live in the area, actual locals who remember when the place was a proper dive, and the occasional food tourist who read about it on some blog. Somehow, it works. The atmosphere manages to be lively without crossing into that terrible territory where you have to shout your order at the person sitting across from you.

They've got all the modern conveniences - contactless payment (they're card-only now, much to the chagrin of cash-carriers), decent heating in the garden for those brave enough to attempt outdoor dining in British weather, and they're dog-friendly, which means you can bring your four-legged friend along to judge the food with you.

Look, I came to The Angel Oak ready to write another scathing review about London's mediocre pub scene. Instead, I found myself returning multiple times, each visit chipping away at my professional cynicism. Whether you're in the mood for a proper pint, surprisingly good food, or just a place to while away a Sunday afternoon, this place delivers. And trust me, it pains me slightly less than expected to admit that. Make a booking - yes, they take those, how civilized - and see for yourself why The Angel Oak has become one of London's more tolerable drinking establishments. Just don't tell them I sent you. I have a reputation to maintain.