The Last Judgment

Just what London needs - another pub masquerading as a cultural touchstone. The Last Judgment in London's financial district initially struck me as yet another pretentious attempt to dress up a drinking establishment in historical garb. Oh look, another converted bank building. How original.

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

The moment you step through those imposing doors (because of course The Last Judgment in London has to make an entrance statement), you're confronted with the kind of architectural grandeur that makes you pause mid-eye-roll. The soaring ceilings and preserved period details from its banking days are, I hate to admit, genuinely impressive. It's like walking into a cathedral dedicated to the holy trinity of hops, malt, and barley.

The bar itself is a masterpiece of old-world craftsmanship that makes most modern pubs look like they were assembled from an IKEA flatpack. And while I typically scoff at establishments that trade heavily on their historical credentials, there's something undeniably atmospheric about sipping a pint where financial titans once counted their pounds and pence.

Speaking of pints - and I can't believe I'm saying this - the beer selection is actually worth writing home about. The Hawkstone lager, in particular, proves that not everything bearing a London price tag is style over substance. The rotating craft selections suggest someone behind the bar actually gives a damn about what they're serving, rather than just stocking whatever the distributor is pushing this week.

Now, about those prices. They're exactly what you'd expect from a City of London pub - which is to say, your wallet will feel distinctly lighter after a session here. But unlike many of its peers charging similar rates, The Last Judgment actually delivers value for your pounds. The bangers and mash (yes, I ordered it, and no, I won't apologize) emerged from the kitchen looking like it had actually seen the loving touch of a chef rather than the inside of a microwave.

The real surprise - and I'm still processing this - is the attention to detail throughout. Take the ladies' powder room, which has apparently become something of a local legend. It's the sort of facility that makes you wonder if you've accidentally wandered into a private members' club. Complete with a lounge area that's nicer than most London flats, it's almost worth the price of admission alone.

For groups, The Last Judgment offers various spaces that can accommodate everything from casual after-work drinks to full-blown corporate events. The private section manages to maintain the venue's character while offering enough separation to make your gathering feel exclusive. It's actually - and I'm gritting my teeth as I type this - rather well thought out.

The service, remarkably, strikes that elusive balance between attentive and overbearing. The staff somehow manages to be both professional and personable, a combination about as rare in London as an affordable pint. They're knowledgeable about their offerings without being pretentious - a refreshing change from the usual City fare.

Here's the thing about The Last Judgment in London - it would be so much easier if it were terrible. I could dash off a witty demolition job and be done with it. Instead, I'm forced to acknowledge that sometimes, just sometimes, a venue manages to be both popular and worthy of its reputation.

For those seeking it out (and yes, you probably should), The Last Judgment sits proudly in the heart of the City, surrounded by the glass and steel monuments to mammon that make up London's financial district. Book ahead for groups, especially during the Thursday and Friday evening exodus of suited warriors from their nearby offices. And while your bank balance might regard a visit here as a somewhat questionable decision, your taste buds - and yes, your soul - will likely disagree.