The Racehorse

Just what London needs - another pub with delusions of grandeur. The Racehorse in London's Carshalton area recently underwent a makeover, joining the endless parade of establishments convinced a fresh coat of paint and some craft beer taps will revolutionize the neighborhood drinking scene. I arrived prepared to pen another scathing critique of misguided gentrification. Spoiler alert: I left questioning my own cynicism.

Let's address the elephant in the beer garden - yes, The Racehorse London has actually managed to pull off that most elusive of transformations: the successful pub renovation that doesn't completely destroy its soul. The new management team has somehow threaded the needle between "welcome to the 21st century" and "we've been here since Victoria was on the throne." It's the pub equivalent of getting a tasteful facelift rather than trying to look 25 again.

The garden, which could have easily become another Instagram-bait disaster of fairy lights and artificial grass, has instead been thoughtfully refreshed into what might be one of the area's better outdoor drinking spots. It's a proper sun trap, though my dermatologist would probably suggest more umbrellas. Still, on a warm afternoon, with a well-kept pint in hand, even I found myself reluctantly admitting this wasn't the worst place to while away a few hours.

Inside, they've managed to maintain that essential pub-ness - you know, the indefinable quality that separates a proper boozer from a chain pub's idea of what a pub should be. The bar staff actually seem to care whether you enjoy your drink, which is either excellent training or genuine enthusiasm. I'm not sure which is more surprising.

The beer selection deserves particular mention, if only because I arrived determined to find fault with it. Traditional ales sit comfortably alongside craft options, without the pretentious "curated beverage program" nonsense that plagues so many renovated London pubs. The prices won't make you question all your life choices, though they're not exactly giving it away. But then again, what is these days in London?

They've kept the live music, thank whatever deity you prefer, and managed to implement a booking system that doesn't require a PhD in computer science to navigate. Dogs are still welcome, which means you can expect the occasional four-legged critic to join you - usually better behaved than some of the two-legged variety I've encountered.

The facilities - usually the true test of any pub's commitment to improvement - have been upgraded from "approach with caution" to "actually pleasant surprise." Working hand dryers might seem a low bar for praise, but anyone who's spent time in London pubs knows this is practically luxury territory.

What truly sets The Racehorse apart from London's endless parade of pub renovations is its stubborn refusal to completely abandon its roots. Yes, they've cleaned up the rough edges, but they haven't sanitized the character out of the place. The regulars haven't been priced out or made to feel unwelcome, which in today's London pub scene is practically revolutionary.

Location-wise, it's a short stumble from Carshalton Station, which means you can actually get here without remortgaging your house for a taxi. The free parking options seem almost too good to be true in London, but they exist - both on-street and in a proper lot, for those who draw the designated driver short straw.

Look, I didn't want to like The Racehorse. I really didn't. London has seen too many good pubs stripped of their character in the name of "improvement." But here's the thing - they've actually done it right. It's still unmistakably a pub, just one that you wouldn't be embarrassed to bring your out-of-town friends to. The place manages to be both a proper local and a destination worth seeking out, which is no mean feat.

If you're in the area (or even if you're not), The Racehorse London deserves your attention. Go for the beer, stay for the atmosphere, and join me in the uncomfortable position of admitting that sometimes change isn't terrible. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.