The Bull

Just what London needs - another pub claiming to be a cut above the rest. The Bull in London had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold, preparing myself for yet another mediocre establishment riding the gastropub wave with more enthusiasm than talent. But sometimes, just sometimes, life throws you a curveball that leaves you questioning your carefully cultivated cynicism.

Let's address the elephant in the room - The Bull's location makes it suspiciously convenient for both locals and tourists, which usually spells disaster. Yet somehow this London pub has managed to avoid the typical pitfalls of its prime position. The interior strikes that elusive balance between traditional pub charm and contemporary comfort, without falling into the trap of Instagram-baiting décor that plagues so many venues these days.

I arrived determined to find fault with their much-lauded Sunday roast, armed with years of disappointment from similar establishments. The audacity of requiring reservations for a pub lunch nearly had me turning on my heel. But then the plates arrived, and damn it all if they haven't mastered the art of proper portioning. None of that dainty nouvelle cuisine nonsense - these are genuinely generous servings that somehow maintain their dignity and finesse. The Yorkshire puddings rise like architectural masterpieces, and the roast potatoes actually crack satisfyingly under your fork instead of surrendering like soggy disappointments.

The staff, frustratingly, make it hard to maintain one's professional distance. They've mastered that rare art of being attentive without hovering, knowledgeable without pretension. I watched them handle everything from casual pint-seekers to large family gatherings with an efficiency that bordered on the suspicious. Even when dealing with the inevitable Sunday rush, they maintained their composure with an almost irritating level of competence.

Speaking of drinks - and one must speak of drinks when discussing The Bull London - their beer selection shows actual thought rather than just ticking trendy boxes. The wine list won't set the world afire, but it's perfectly serviceable and priced within the realm of reason, which in London's current climate feels almost charitable.

What really gets under my skin is how they've managed to maintain quality while serving significant numbers. Large-format dining is usually where places like this falter, yet The Bull handles group bookings with an aplomb that makes me question my long-held beliefs about London pubs and their limitations. The kitchen maintains consistency whether you're a table of two or twelve, which is annoyingly impressive.

Dog owners, families with children, and sports enthusiasts all somehow coexist here without the usual chaos such a mix typically engenders. They've achieved that mythical pub atmosphere where everyone feels welcome without anyone feeling overwhelmed. The presence of both free parking and good public transport links makes it accessible, though you'll want to book ahead for Sunday service unless you enjoy disappointment.

The pricing sits squarely in the "fair for London" category - not cheap enough to raise suspicions about the meat sourcing, not expensive enough to trigger a cost-of-living crisis meltdown. You can enjoy a proper meal with a drinks without having to remortgage your home, which in today's London feels almost revolutionary.

Here's the truly infuriating part - The Bull London has forced me to recalibrate my standards for what a modern pub can be. They've taken the essence of a traditional London pub and elevated it without losing its soul in the process. The food is consistently good enough to warrant return visits, the atmosphere manages to be both lively and civilized, and the overall experience leaves you with precious little to complain about, which is personally offensive to me as a critic.

Don't just walk in expecting a table, especially on Sundays - that level of optimism will end in tears. Book ahead, arrive hungry, and prepare yourself for the disturbing possibility that you might have to add another reliable venue to your London repertoire. The Bull has earned its reputation through actual merit rather than marketing, and I find myself reluctantly recommending it to anyone seeking a proper pub experience in London. There, I said it. Now excuse me while I go question all my other deeply held cynical beliefs.