The Conquering Hero

Just what London needs - another pub claiming to be a "local treasure" while serving the same tepid ales and microwaved pies. At least, that's what I thought when I first wandered into The Conquering Hero. I've never been happier to eat my words (along with some surprisingly decent pub grub).

Let's address the elephant - or rather, the pig - in the room. Yes, The Conquering Hero in London has a resident swine. It's the kind of gimmick that usually makes me roll my eyes so hard I can see my own cynicism. But Frances Bacon (yes, that's really her name) has more authentic charm than most social media influencers I've encountered. When she's not napping by the fireplace, she's essentially the world's most effective conversation starter.

The beer garden deserves mention, if only because it manages to avoid the usual London pub garden pitfalls. You know the type - three wobbly tables crammed into what was clearly once a loading dock, with views of overflowing bins. This one's actually... pleasant. Spacious enough that you won't have to share your breathing space with strangers, with enough greenery to make you momentarily forget you're in South London.

Inside, the pub maintains that delicate balance between "actually been here since Victorian times" and "we installed proper bathroom facilities after 1950." The wooden beams are authentically aged rather than artificially distressed, and the bar staff actually know their craft beers without being pretentious about it - a miracle in modern London.

Speaking of prices, I had to check my receipt twice. In a city where a pint can cost more than a small car payment, The Conquering Hero's prices feel like a clerical error in your favor. The loaded fries special on Mondays and Tuesdays (a fiver, if you're counting) is the kind of deal that makes you suspicious - until you actually try them and realize they haven't skimped on quality to maintain the price point.

The Sunday roast (because what's a London pub review without mentioning the Sunday roast?) manages to avoid the usual pitfalls of either being tragically underseasoned or drowning in gravy to compensate for dry meat. The portions are generous enough to satisfy even the most demanding northern transplant, and the Yorkshire puddings actually rise to the occasion instead of lying flat like edible disappointment.

Live music on Wednesdays adds character without overwhelming conversation - a rare feat in London pubs where "live music" often means "sorry, you'll have to communicate via interpretive dance for the next three hours." The band knows their audience and keeps things lively without testing the structural integrity of the historic building.

They've managed to create that elusive "proper local" atmosphere that so many pubs try desperately to manufacture. The regulars are friendly without being overbearing, the staff remember faces without making it weird, and even the most hardened Londoner might find themselves accidentally making eye contact and - gasp - engaging in conversation with strangers.

The Conquering Hero has done something I thought impossible in modern London - created a space that works equally well for after-work drinks, Sunday family lunches, or evening sessions with friends. The fact that they've achieved this while maintaining reasonable prices and not succumbing to the gastropub pretension that plagues so many London establishments is nothing short of miraculous.

Look, I didn't want to like The Conquering Hero. I've made a career out of being disappointed by London pubs. But between the genuine warmth of the place, the surprisingly good food, the fair prices, and yes, even the pub pig, I've been forced to admit defeat. If you're in the Norbury area and looking for a pub that remembers what pubs are supposed to be about, you might as well give in and visit. Just don't blame me when you end up becoming a regular - I tried to stay cynical, but some places make it impossible.