The Clement Attlee

Just what London needs - another pub named after a Labour Prime Minister. The Clement Attlee in London's Limehouse district initially struck me as yet another attempt to cash in on east London's seemingly endless appetite for craft beer and carefully curated nostalgia. How wrong I was, damn it.

Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, it's one of those places where the beer menu is longer than your average Victorian novel, and some of the prices might make Clement himself spin in his grave. But before you roll your eyes (as I did), there's something genuinely special happening here that even my weathered cynicism couldn't dismiss.

The first crack in my armor appeared when I noticed the staff actually knew their stuff. Not the usual "Oh, this one's, like, really hoppy" spiel, but genuine knowledge delivered without a hint of the pretension that plagues so many London craft beer establishments. I watched as the bartender spent five minutes discussing beer styles with an elderly gentleman who "just wanted something like my usual Stella" - and somehow managed to find him the perfect pint without a hint of condescension.

The space itself refuses to play by the usual rules of London pub renovation. Where most venues these days seem torn between Victorian gin palace and Instagram-ready minimalism, The Clement Attlee has carved out its own identity. The two-floor layout offers a choose-your-own-adventure approach to drinking - downstairs for those seeking traditional pub atmosphere, upstairs for anyone wanting something a bit more refined. There's even a small roof terrace that, while hardly the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, provides a welcome escape from the indoor crowds.

Now, about those prices. Yes, you might experience mild cardiac arrest when you first see some of the beer prices (£8.95 for an IPA? Really?), but here's the thing - they're not taking the mickey with markup. These are legitimate limited-run craft beers you won't find in your local Tesco, and the staff are happy to let you sample before committing to a full pint. The wine list is surprisingly decent too, though I'm still trying to figure out if that's by design or happy accident.

The food menu is mercifully concise - none of this 30-page gastropub nonsense - focusing instead on doing a few things well. The ox cheeks are a standout, though I'd suggest ordering a side if you're properly hungry. It's not trying to be a restaurant, and thank god for that. This is pub food that knows its place - good enough to soak up the beer but not so fancy that it forgets where it is.

What truly sets The Clement Attlee apart, though, is its ability to foster genuine community in a part of London where that's increasingly rare. Regular events and live music nights draw an eclectic crowd, and there's something oddly heartwarming about watching City workers in bespoke suits chatting with local dock workers over craft IPAs. Even the dog-friendly policy hasn't resulted in the usual chaos you might expect - the four-legged patrons seem to have picked up on the civilized vibe.

Location-wise, you couldn't ask for better - it's practically holding hands with Limehouse station. The proximity to public transport might explain the healthy mix of regulars and curious passersby, though the quality of the venue is what keeps them coming back. The outdoor seating area gets surprisingly busy during summer evenings, offering prime people-watching opportunities along Commercial Road.

Look, I didn't want to like The Clement Attlee. I walked in ready to mock its pretensions and write it off as another soulless addition to London's ever-growing collection of craft beer temples. Instead, I found myself returning repeatedly, each visit revealing new layers to appreciate. Whether you're a craft beer enthusiast, a curious local, or just someone looking for a proper pub that happens to serve excellent beer, you'll find something to love here. Just don't blame me when you end up becoming a regular - I tried to stay cynical, I really did.