The Goat in Boots Chelsea

Just what London needs - another Chelsea pub with delusions of grandeur. The Goat in Boots Chelsea sits there on Fulham Road, wearing its trendy gastropub credentials like a student who's just discovered vintage clothing. I approached with the enthusiasm of someone getting a root canal, fully prepared to skewer another mediocre attempt at elevating pub fare to something "Instagram-worthy."

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

First, let's address the elephant in the room - that absolutely ridiculous cherry blossom tree with disco balls. It's the kind of touch that should make any self-respecting critic roll their eyes into the next postcode. Yet somehow, like everything else at The Goat in Boots Chelsea, it works. It shouldn't, but it does, much like that one friend who can pull off wearing a bow tie to brunch.

Speaking of brunch, their weekend offering is surprisingly competent. The kitchen clearly knows its way around both traditional pub fare and more ambitious dishes. The arancini - which I ordered purely to find fault with - arrived golden-brown and perfectly crispy, with an interior that would make a Sicilian grandmother begrudgingly nod in approval. Their wood-fired pizzas, while not quite Naples-standard (because heaven forbid I give unqualified praise), emerge from the oven with that perfect balance of char and chew that makes you forget you're in Chelsea, not Italy.

The tortellini deserves its own paragraph. There, I said it. I've eaten pasta in restaurants charging triple the price that couldn't match the simple elegance of this dish. It's the kind of food that makes you angry - angry that you can't reasonably find fault with it, angry that you'll have to admit to friends they were right about this place, angry that you're already planning your next visit.

Let's talk about the space itself. The interior manages to walk that precarious line between "pub that's had a glow-up" and "place that's forgotten its roots." The renovation clearly cost someone a pretty penny, but they've maintained enough of the original charm to avoid the sterile feel that plagues so many London gastropub conversions. It's comfortable without being stuffy, stylish without being pretentious - which, in Chelsea, is about as rare as an affordable flat.

Their all-day service is a blessing for those of us with irregular schedules or a pathological aversion to conventional meal times. From breakfast through dinner, the kitchen maintains a consistency that's frustratingly impressive. The vegetarian options aren't mere afterthoughts either - they're actual, properly conceived dishes that would satisfy even the most committed carnivore.

The service strikes that perfect London balance of attentiveness without hovering, friendliness without forced familiarity. The staff actually seem to enjoy working here, which in the current hospitality climate is about as common as a punctual Central Line train.

Now, about the drinks. The cocktail list is thoughtful and well-executed, the wine selection is more than decent, and they've managed to maintain proper pub credentials with a solid beer offering. It's the kind of place where you could have a business lunch, a casual pint, or a full-blown dinner party without feeling out of place in any scenario.

Yes, there are occasional hiccups - a busy service can stretch the kitchen's timing, and sometimes the popularity of the place means you'll need to book ahead, especially for weekend brunch. But these are the problems of success, and I find myself unable to properly condemn them for it.

The Goat in Boots Chelsea has achieved something remarkable: it's made me eat my own cynicism. Situated in the heart of Chelsea, it manages to be both a proper local pub and a legitimate dining destination. Whether you're after a casual drink, a quick pizza, or a full dining experience, it delivers with an consistency that pains me to acknowledge.

Go on then, book a table. Join the rest of us converts who've had to admit that sometimes, just sometimes, a place actually deserves its popularity. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.