The Magdala Tavern

Just what London needs - another gastropub pretending that a fresh coat of paint and some fancy bar snacks qualifies as cultural heritage. The Magdala Tavern in Hampstead had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. Another historic pub "reinvented" for the Instagram crowd? Please. I've suffered through enough mediocre £16 burgers and lukewarm ales to last several lifetimes.

But damn it all if The Magdala Tavern hasn't managed to do something intensely irritating: they've actually gotten it right.

I wanted to hate the place, I really did. The location alone - perched smugly in well-heeled Hampstead - had me prepared for an evening of overpriced mediocrity. Yet somewhere between the perfectly pulled pint of local bitter and what might be London's most honest-to-goodness proper Sunday roast, my cynicism began to crack like the impossibly crispy pork crackling they serve.

Let's talk about that Sunday roast, shall we? Because if you're going to do something as fundamentally British as a roast dinner, you'd better not muck it up. The Magdala Tavern serves the kind of roast that makes you want to phone your mum and apologize for ever complimenting her cooking. The Yorkshire puddings rise like architectural masterpieces, the gravy has actual depth (not that brown water nonsense most places serve), and the meat - oh, the meat. The pork belly dissolves on your tongue like tender, porky butter. The beef arrives exactly as requested, bearing a blush pink center that would make a French chef weep with joy.

The space itself manages to thread that impossibly fine needle between "preserved historic pub" and "actually comfortable place to spend an afternoon." Original features remain intact without feeling like you're drinking in a museum. The bar staff - typically a sourpuss lot in London's more gentrified establishments - display an almost suspicious level of genuine friendliness. I found myself wondering if they were secretly actors hired to play cheerful publicans.

They've kept the real ales rotating and properly maintained - CAMRA's North London Pub of the Year award isn't handed out to just any old boozer with a handlebar mustache and some craft IPA cans in the fridge. The wine list is surprisingly decent for a pub, though if you're drinking wine in a proper London pub, we need to have a serious conversation about life choices.

What's truly infuriating is how they've managed to maintain reasonable prices for the area. No, it's not cheap - this is Hampstead, after all - but you won't need to remortgage your house for dinner and a few pints. The portion sizes suggest they actually want you to leave satisfied rather than immediately seeking out a kebab shop.

The Wednesday lobster night is a particular stroke of genius. It's just pretentious enough to satisfy the local crowd while being genuinely good value for anyone who enjoys crustaceans. The fact that they allow dogs only adds to the authenticity - nothing says "proper pub" quite like a sleeping labrador by the fireplace.

Live music appears occasionally, though mercifully not at the volume that makes conversation impossible. The outdoor seating area provides prime people-watching opportunities, particularly amusing when the Hampstead set encounters the pub's refreshingly democratic clientele.

For those considering a visit to The Magdala Tavern (and I cannot believe I'm about to write this), you'll find it nestled in Hampstead's South End Green, a short waddle from the Heath. Book ahead for Sunday roast - it's popular for an annoyingly good reason. The paid street parking situation is typically London-awful, but you're near public transport, so be sensible.

Look, I didn't want to like The Magdala Tavern. I wanted to write a scathing review about another soulless London pub renovation. Instead, I'm forced to admit that they've created something rather special here - a proper pub that manages to be both contemporary and authentic, upscale and welcoming. Go there. Order a pint and the Sunday roast. Then hate yourself a little bit for loving it as much as I do.