The Cavalier

Just what London needed - another pub claiming to be a proper neighborhood haunt. The Cavalier in London had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. The name alone sounds like it's trying too hard to be posh while serving the same tepid pints and microwaved pub grub we've all suffered through a thousand times before.

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

Maybe it was the moment I witnessed a group of elderly regulars absolutely demolishing the competition at Tuesday night quiz, their encyclopedic knowledge of 1960s pop culture putting the young tech bros to shame. Or perhaps it was watching the pub dog (a remarkably well-behaved bulldog with an apparent passion for Premier League matches) console dejected Arsenal fans after a particularly brutal loss.

The thing about The Cavalier is that it doesn't actually try to be anything other than what it is - a proper London boozer that's somehow managed to stay relevant without surrendering to the gastropub revolution. The beer garden, which I fully expected to be three sad picnic tables next to a skip, is surprisingly expansive and actually pleasant, especially when they break out the bouncy castle during summer months. (Yes, a pub with a bouncy castle. We live in interesting times.)

Let's talk about those cheesy chips everyone keeps banging on about. I wanted to hate them. I really did. But there's something almost transcendent about their perfect ratio of crispy to soggy, the cheese melted just so, arriving at your table in portions that suggest the kitchen staff is actively trying to cure hangovers before they even begin. They're not revolutionary - they're just done right, which is rarer than it should be in London's pub scene.

The prices won't make you weep into your wallet, though they're not exactly giving it away either. You're looking at standard London pub rates, but at least here you won't feel like you're being charged extra for "ambiance" created by Edison bulbs and reclaimed wood tables. The drinks selection is solid without being pretentious - they serve proper pints, decent wines, and cocktails that don't require a dictionary to order.

What's particularly refreshing about The Cavalier is its stubborn resistance to the typical London pub makeover formula. No one has attempted to "elevate" the experience with artisanal sourdough or craft gin flights. The karaoke nights are gloriously unpretentious affairs where you're as likely to hear a pensioner belting out Tom Jones as you are to encounter a group of office workers massacring Spice Girls hits.

The staff deserves special mention - they've mastered that peculiarly British art of being simultaneously welcoming and slightly intimidating. They remember regulars' orders, tolerate the occasional rowdy football crowd with admirable patience, and somehow manage to keep the place family-friendly without making it feel like a creche.

Speaking of families, The Cavalier has somehow cracked the code of being child-friendly without alienating its adult clientele. During daylight hours, kids are welcome and well-accommodated, but the place maintains its essential pub-ness. It's a delicate balance that most venues either ignore entirely or get catastrophically wrong.

Location-wise, it's actually rather clever - just far enough from the tube to deter the worst of the tourist crowds, but close enough to stumble home from after a few too many quiz night triumph celebrations. The free parking is a bonus, though I question the life choices of anyone driving to a pub.

Look, I didn't want to like The Cavalier. London has enough pubs already, and most new ones feel about as authentic as a three-pound note. But if you're in the area and fancy a proper pint, some ridiculously good cheesy chips, and an atmosphere that reminds you why pubs became community hubs in the first place, you could do far worse. Just don't blame me if you end up becoming a regular. I certainly won't tell anyone I've been back three times this week.