The Clissold Arms

Just what North London needed - another pub claiming to serve "authentic" Greek food. The Clissold Arms in London had been on my radar for months, each recommendation met with an eye roll and muttered "yeah, right." But like finding a winning lottery ticket in the pocket of your least favorite jacket, sometimes life's pleasant surprises come wrapped in skepticism.

Let's address the elephant in the room: The Clissold Arms isn't your typical London pub pretending ethnic food is its forte. Trust me, I've suffered through enough mediocre "fusion" attempts to last several lifetimes. But somewhere between the first bite of properly charred souvlaki and a perfectly chilled glass of Assyrtiko, my cynicism began to crack.

The space itself straddles an identity crisis between traditional British pub and Grecian taverna, yet somehow pulls it off with the confidence of a Mediterranean grandmother who won't take no for an answer. The dining room manages to be both cozy and animated, like someone successfully married a Cotswolds inn with an Athenian family restaurant. And yes, I'm as surprised as you are that it works.

The menu is where things get interesting - and by interesting, I mean frustratingly good. The kitchen clearly knows what they're doing, much to the chagrin of my predetermined skepticism. Their moussaka isn't the soggy, microwaved nightmare you might expect from a London pub; instead, it's layered with the kind of care usually reserved for French patisserie. The kleftiko falls off the bone with such enthusiasm, it practically leaps onto your fork in surrender.

For those who came seeking traditional pub fare, yes, they do Sunday roasts. And yes, they're annoyingly good too. The lamb (Greek influence showing its hand again) comes perfectly pink, accompanied by Yorkshire puddings that rise higher than London rent prices. It's the kind of roast that makes you question why you ever bothered with that trendy spot in Shoreditch charging twice as much for half the portion.

What really gets under my skin is the service. In an era where genuine hospitality often feels as rare as an affordable London flat, the staff at The Clissold Arms display an authenticity that can't be trained. They're knowledgeable without being pretentious, attentive without hovering, and - most irritatingly - actually seem to enjoy their jobs.

The wine list deserves special mention, if only because it introduced me to several Greek varieties I can now pretend to have known about all along. They've managed to curate a selection that pairs perfectly with both the food and your wallet - a rare feat in London's dining scene.

Dog owners, rejoice - your four-legged friends are welcome here. The outdoor seating area provides ample space for both human and canine patrons, though good luck finding a spot on sunny weekends when it seems half of North London has had the same idea.

Live music makes regular appearances, and while I typically approach pub entertainment with the enthusiasm of a cat facing a bath, the programming here shows surprising restraint and quality. It adds to the atmosphere rather than overwhelming it - a concept seemingly foreign to many London establishments.

The Clissold Arms sits in that sweet spot between casual and special occasion dining. Yes, you can pop in for a quick pint and a plate of olives, but it's also worthy of bringing your parents when they visit or celebrating that promotion you've been chasing. The prices won't make you wince, though they're just high enough to remind you you're in London.

Look, I didn't want to like The Clissold Arms. I really didn't. But much like that friend who keeps dating someone you initially disapproved of, it's grown on me to the point where I've stopped fighting it. Whether you're seeking proper Greek cuisine, a solid Sunday roast, or just a reliable local with good food and better atmosphere, you'll find it here. Book ahead for weekends - apparently I'm not the only one who's been reluctantly won over by this North London gem. And yes, I hate myself a little for using the word "gem," but here we are.