The Royal Oak

Just what London needs - another gastropub masquerading as a proper local. The Royal Oak in London had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. You know the type: exposed brick walls probably installed last week, Edison bulbs that somebody thought were terribly clever, and a menu that can't decide if it's pub grub or fine dining. Been there, yawned at that.

But damn them for actually getting it right.

I wanted to hate it. I really did. After the endless parade of London pubs that have been transformed into Instagram backdrop factories, my expectations were somewhere between "mediocre" and "why do I do this job?" Yet The Royal Oak managed to pull off that rarest of feats - authentic charm without trying too hard.

The first crack in my cynical armor appeared when I noticed they actually know how to pour a proper pint. Not the sad, half-foam affairs you get at most places, but the kind that makes you remember why you fell in love with pubs in the first place. The bar staff doesn't give you that rehearsed "craft beer enthusiasm" speech - they just know their stuff and get on with it.

Then there's the space itself. Unlike many London pubs that feel like they were decorated by someone who googled "cozy British pub aesthetic," The Royal Oak actually has character that feels earned rather than purchased from a catalog. The dining areas manage that tricky balance between intimate and claustrophobic, with enough nooks and crannies to make each table feel like your own private domain.

They've done that irritatingly clever thing where they've kept the best elements of a traditional pub while subtly upgrading everything else. The menu prices won't make you gasp - they're firmly in the "I can justify this" territory - but neither will they make you suspicious about the quality. It's the kind of place where you can still get a decent burger, but they've also got sea bass that wouldn't be out of place in a proper restaurant.

The dog-friendly policy could have been another eye-rolling "we're so quirky" touch, but they've managed to make it work without turning the place into a canine social club. There are even treats by the door, which I grudgingly admit is a nice touch. The outdoor seating area isn't an afterthought either - it's actually pleasant enough to make you forget you're drinking next to a London street.

What really gets under my skin is how good the service is. Not the overly familiar "Hi, I'm Trevor, and I'll be your best friend for the next two hours" style, but actual, efficient, thoughtful service. They've got this clever system for handling food allergies - all very 21st century with iPads and green flags for specially prepared dishes. It's the kind of detail that makes you realize they actually care about their customers, which is frankly annoying when you're trying to maintain a professional level of skepticism.

The car park out back (a miracle in London) and clean toilets shouldn't be noteworthy, but in a city where finding either can feel like winning the lottery, they are. And while I'm loathe to admit it, the fact that they take both bookings and walk-ins shows a refreshing lack of pretension about the whole enterprise.

Let's talk about the food because that's where most places like this fall apart. But The Royal Oak, curse them, actually delivers. The portion sizes are generous without being grotesque, and they've managed to elevate pub classics without disappearing up their own pretensions. Even the kids' menu (complete with activity sheets, because of course) shows more thought than the usual chicken nugget afterthoughts.

So here I am, a jaded London food critic, actually recommending The Royal Oak. If you're in London and looking for a pub that threads the needle between traditional charm and modern expectations, you'll find it here. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain. Book ahead for dinner, especially on weekends, unless you enjoy standing around looking hopeful. And yes, bring your dog if you must - they'll probably have a better time than they deserve.