The Merchant of Battersea

Just what London needs - another pub in Battersea claiming to be a cut above the rest. The Merchant of Battersea sits there with its cleaned-up Victorian facade and carefully curated craft beer selection, practically begging to be dismissed as yet another gentrified watering hole catering to the area's ever-growing population of young professionals who think they're too good for a proper dive bar.

I wanted to hate it. Really, I did. But The Merchant of Battersea has this irritating way of wearing you down with its actual, legitimate charm. It's like running into an ex who's genuinely become a better person - you arrive ready with cutting remarks, only to leave wondering if you've been too harsh.

Let's start with the beer selection, which I fully expected to be the usual suspects of overpriced IPAs with clever names. Instead, I found myself nodding appreciatively at a thoughtfully curated rotation of local breweries and some genuinely interesting imports. The staff actually knows their stuff too, which is becoming rarer than a reasonable rent in London these days.

The space itself manages to thread that impossibly fine needle between "preserved historic pub" and "Instagram-worthy venue" without falling too far into either trap. Original Victorian features remain intact, but they've somehow avoided the musty, old-man-pub smell that usually comes with such authenticity. The lighting hits that sweet spot where you can actually read the menu but still look ten years younger.

Speaking of the menu - here's where The Merchant of Battersea really forced me to eat my words (along with some surprisingly good pub fare). The kitchen isn't trying to reinvent the wheel with deconstructed fish and chips or whatever gastro-nonsense is trending on TikTok this week. Instead, they're just doing proper pub classics with the kind of attention to detail that makes you realize how many other places are phoning it in.

Their burger (and yes, I ordered it specifically hoping to find fault) arrives perfectly medium-rare when requested, with a bun that actually holds together until the last bite. The chips are proper chips - none of that triple-cooked, thrice-blessed, sent-to-finishing-school nonsense. Just honest-to-goodness potatoes, fried to perfection and seasoned by someone who understands that salt is not a dirty word.

The prices won't make you choke on your pint, which in modern London is practically a miracle. You're not paying Zone 1 markups, but neither is it suspiciously cheap. It sits in that sweet spot where you can have a couple of rounds and a meal without having to check your banking app in terror the next morning.

The crowd is... well, it's Battersea. Young professionals mix with long-time locals in a way that somehow works, especially during football matches when the pub's multiple screens transform it into a surprisingly civilized sports venue. The staff manages the busy periods with the kind of efficiency that makes you wonder if they've all done tours in military logistics.

Dog-friendly without becoming a canine circus, group-friendly without turning into a nightmare of pushed-together tables, and sports-showing without descending into a shouty mess - The Merchant of Battersea has mastered the delicate balancing act that most London pubs don't even attempt.

Look, I'm as surprised as anyone to be writing this, but The Merchant of Battersea has earned its place in the neighborhood. Whether you're after a proper pint, a reliable meal, or just a place to watch the match that won't make you lose faith in humanity, it delivers. You'll find it just off Battersea's beaten path, doing what good London pubs have always done - serving as a home away from home, just with better beer and fewer sticky surfaces than you might remember from your local growing up.

Go on, book a table. At least then you can tell your friends you went ironically, before admitting - probably after your second pint - that you're already planning your next visit.