The Porchester

Just what London needs - another gastropub claiming to elevate the humble local boozer into something worth crossing postcodes for. The Porchester in London's Bayswater area initially struck me as yet another victim of the great British pub gentrification epidemic. You know the type: Edison bulbs, "craft" ales with incomprehensible names, and a menu that can't decide if it's pub grub or fine dining.

But damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my cynical heart like a persistent earworm of competence.

Let's start with the space itself. The Porchester maintains that delicate balance between "actually clean" and "atmospheric pub grime" that so many establishments get wrong. The secret garden - yes, they actually call it that without a trace of irony - turns out to be less pretentious than its name suggests. It's genuinely lovely, especially when London decides to grace us with one of its seventeen annual sunny days.

The drinks selection would make any self-respecting publican proud. They've got your standard lagers for the unadventurous, a rotating cast of local brews for the beard-stroking crowd, and - surprising absolutely no one who's been to a London pub in the last decade - a gin list longer than my list of regrettable life choices. The cocktails are actually decent, which is not something I say lightly about pub mixology.

Now, about the food. I approached their menu with the same enthusiasm I reserve for dental appointments, but The Porchester managed to prove me wrong. Their fish and chips (because of course I had to try the benchmark) arrives with fish that's actually fish-shaped, not the rectangular suspicion you get at lesser establishments. The batter maintains its crunch longer than most relationships these days, and the chips - well, they're proper chips, not those anemic imposters that plague so many London pubs.

The pub quiz on Wednesdays has somehow avoided becoming the usual parade of Google-under-the-table cheats and overly competitive couples on awkward dates. The quiz master, Omar, deserves a raise for managing to make British trivia digestible even for confused American tourists - a diplomatic feat worthy of UN recognition.

What really gets me is the staff's attitude. In an era where genuine hospitality seems as rare as affordable London housing, The Porchester's team manages to be actually helpful without the artificial cheeriness that makes me want to hide in the loo. They know their menu, they know their drinks, and - miracle of miracles - they seem to actually enjoy their jobs. Or they're exceptional actors, in which case they're in the wrong profession.

The pricing sits squarely in the "London reasonable" category - which means you'll wince slightly at the bill but won't need to sell a kidney. The portions are generous enough that you won't immediately need to stop for a kebab on the way home, which in today's economy practically counts as value for money.

Dog-friendly without becoming a canine circus, group-friendly without descending into chaos, and blessed with both outdoor seating and actual parking options (a combination in London about as rare as a political promise kept), The Porchester has thoroughly earned its 4.4-star Google rating from over a thousand reviewers who, apparently, are as begrudgingly impressed as I am.

Here's the real kicker - I've actually started recommending The Porchester to friends. Voluntarily. Without being paid or threatened. For a London pub to achieve this level of endorsement from someone who makes a living being professionally unimpressed, well... it's something.

Look, if you're in Bayswater and need a pub that won't disappoint your friends, make your parents uncomfortable, or poison your date, The Porchester is your spot. Book ahead for quiz nights, bring your dog if you have one, and for heaven's sake, try the fish and chips. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.