The Bridge Tap, London

Just what London needs - another pub near London Bridge with a painfully generic name like The Bridge Tap. I approached with the enthusiasm of a wet Sunday, fully expecting yet another soulless chain establishment dressed up in exposed brick and Edison bulbs. But damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my reluctantly expanding list of "pubs I'd actually return to."

Let's address the elephant in the room - The Bridge Tap in London isn't trying to reinvent the wheel. It's a pub. It serves drinks. There are screens showing football. Stop the presses. But somewhere between my first skeptically ordered pint and the surprisingly decent burger that followed, I found myself actually... enjoying the place. I know, I'm as shocked as you are.

The interior walks that fine line between "we tried to make it look authentic" and "we actually succeeded." Unlike many of its London Bridge neighbors that feel like they were decorated by an algorithm trained on Pinterest's "modern pub aesthetic" board, The Bridge Tap manages to feel lived-in without crossing into grimy territory. The lighting - usually the death knell of many a London pub - actually allows you to see your drink without requiring sunglasses, which feels like a minor miracle in this part of town.

Speaking of drinks, the beer selection is solidly above average, with a rotating cast of familiar faces and some genuinely interesting craft options. The bartenders actually know their stuff, which shouldn't be remarkable but somehow is. They can recommend something based on your preferences without making you feel like you're being lectured by a sophomore philosophy major who just discovered craft beer last week.

Their food menu initially reads like every other pub menu in a five-mile radius, but here's where things get interesting. That £8 meal deal everyone keeps banging on about? It's actually good. Like, legitimately good, not just "good for the price" good. The burger doesn't taste like it came from a frozen multipack, and the chips are properly crispy. I'm almost angry about how much I enjoyed it.

The service deserves a special mention, if only because it's managed to consistently surprise me with its competence. Whether you're there for a quick lunch or settling in for an afternoon of sports watching, the staff strikes that perfect balance of attentiveness without hovering - a rare art in London pubs where you usually get either completely ignored or smothered with fake enthusiasm.

They've also managed to crack the code on atmosphere, something that eludes many of their competitors. The Bridge Tap has somehow created an environment where you can actually hear your companions speak without shouting yourself hoarse, yet it never feels dead. It's busy enough to have energy but not so packed that you're wearing someone else's pint. During big matches, there's enough excitement to make it feel proper without descending into chaos.

For groups, they've got that sorted too. Booking is straightforward (welcome to the 21st century, London pubs), and they actually honor reservations - a concept that seems to baffle many establishments in the area. The outdoor seating area, while not exactly the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, provides a decent enough spot for those brave souls willing to battle London's elements for the privilege of fresh air.

Dog-friendly, card-accepting, and actually functional Wi-Fi? It's like they're actively trying to be useful. The prices won't make you weep into your wallet - they're standard for the area, which in London means "expensive but not quite highway robbery." The food and drink quality actually justifies the cost, which is more than I can say for half the places charging similar prices in the vicinity.

Look, I didn't want to like The Bridge Tap. I really didn't. But somewhere between the reliable service, actually decent food, and atmosphere that doesn't make me want to flee immediately, it's become one of those places I find myself suggesting when people ask for a pub near London Bridge. And isn't that just annoying? Go there, have a pint, order some food, and join me in my grudging appreciation of a place that has absolutely no right being as good as it is.