The Horseshoe

Just what London needs - another pub claiming to be a "proper boozer" while probably serving artisanal crisps and craft IPAs that cost more than my first car. The Horseshoe in London's Clerkenwell had me rolling my eyes before I even walked in. Netflix famous thanks to "Gangs of London"? Please. But like that one friend who's impossibly annoying yet somehow endearing, this place has a way of wearing down your defenses.

Let's address the elephant in the room - it's suspiciously affordable for Zone 1 London. In an era where a pint can cost as much as a small mortgage, The Horseshoe's prices feel like a clerical error that nobody's bothered to fix. I kept waiting for the catch, like perhaps they water down the beer or charge you for breathing the air. Spoiler alert: neither is true.

The layout is refreshingly honest - one room, L-shaped(ish), no pretense of being a "concept space" or whatever nonsense marketing teams dream up these days. There's a dartboard that's actually used for, wait for it, playing darts. Not as Instagram backdrop. Not as an ironic statement piece. Actual people throwing actual darts. It's almost revolutionary in its simplicity.

The beer selection is where my cynical facade first started to crack. A solid lineup of keg options alongside a couple of cask ales that aren't just for show. They even stock bottled versions of cask favorites, which is thoughtful enough to be annoying. The staff know their stuff without being insufferable about it - no fifteen-minute monologues about hop profiles or brewing techniques unless you actually ask.

The atmosphere is where The Horseshoe really starts to work its irritating magic. It's got that indefinable quality that marketing teams spend millions trying to manufacture but never quite manage. The kind of genuine warmth that makes you forget you're in central London and not some village pub that's been serving the same regulars since the Tudor period. The landlord's the type who remembers faces and actually seems to give a damn about more than just emptying your wallet.

Football nights transform the place into exactly what you'd hope for - passionate but not aggressive, lively but not chaotic. It's the kind of pub where you can actually watch the match without having to stake your claim on a square inch of viewing space three hours before kickoff. The crowd's a proper mix too - locals, office workers, and yes, the occasional tourist who wandered in after seeing it on Netflix, but somehow it all works.

The garden - and I use that term loosely - is another pleasant surprise. It's not trying to be some botanical wonderland or urban oasis. It's a place to drink outside when the weather permits (which in London means anything short of horizontal rain). They're dog-friendly too, which means you might share your outdoor space with a four-legged patron or two. Somehow, this adds to the charm rather than feeling like a gimmick.

For groups, they've got enough space and sense to accommodate without turning into a corporate events venue. The payment setup is modernized (they take cards, contactless, all that jazz) without losing the soul of the place. And yes, you can actually have a conversation here without shouting yourself hoarse over whatever playlist some consultant decided would appeal to the target demographic.

Look, I didn't want to like The Horseshoe. It would have been easier to dismiss it as another London pub trading on location and TV fame. But much like that friend who keeps proving you wrong about them, it's earned its reputation the hard way - by actually being good at what it does. Whether you're in Clerkenwell for work, live in the area, or just exploring London's pub scene, you'll find yourself making excuses to return. And that might be the most annoying thing about it - it's actually worth your time.