The Southampton Arms

Just what London needs - another pub claiming to be a "proper boozer." The Southampton Arms in Gospel Oak had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. These days, any establishment with a handful of craft beers and a vinyl player thinks they're God's gift to pub culture. But damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my reluctant affections.

Let's get one thing straight - The Southampton Arms is not trying to be your glossy, Instagram-worthy gastropub. It's almost aggressively unfashionable, which, in London's current climate of trying-too-hard venues, somehow makes it fashionable. The worn wooden floors have probably seen more spilled pints than most of us have had hot dinners, and the decor appears to have been curated by someone's uncle who never threw away a single piece of breweriana from 1973.

And yet. And yet. There's something almost irritatingly authentic about the place. The rotating selection of real ales and ciders (12 handpumps, if you're counting) isn't just for show - these people actually know their stuff. It's the kind of place where asking "What's good?" at the bar doesn't get you a blank stare or a rehearsed sales pitch, but rather an enthusiastic dissertation on the merits of their latest small-batch acquisition.

Speaking of the bar staff - they've mastered that rare art of being simultaneously knowledgeable and unpretentious, a combination about as common in London as affordable housing. They'll guide you through their ever-changing selection without making you feel like an idiot if you can't distinguish between Fuggles and East Kent Goldings hops (and if you know what those are without Googling, you're exactly the type who already frequents The Southampton Arms).

The food menu is refreshingly straightforward - mainly rotating roasts and hefty pork baps that make most pub sandwiches look like afternoon tea fare. These aren't your dainty, carefully plated portions that require a magnifying glass to locate the meat. The roast pork rolls are generous enough to require both hands and probably a nap afterward. They're priced reasonably too, which in London terms means you won't need to remortgage your house for lunch.

The vinyl player isn't just for show either - though I initially sneered at what I assumed was hipster window dressing. The eclectic selection of records provides a soundtrack that somehow manages to suit whatever time of day you visit. From lazy Sunday afternoon Carole King to Friday night punk, it works in that effortless way that makes you wonder why more pubs don't ditch their Spotify playlists.

Let's talk about the clientele because it's a fascinating mix that shouldn't work but does. You've got your serious ale enthusiasts comparing tasting notes with the same intensity as wine sommeliers, local regulars who've probably had their own designated bar stool since before I was born, and the occasional confused tourist who wandered in expecting craft cocktails and small plates. Somehow, they all coexist in perfect pub harmony.

The outdoor seating area isn't going to win any design awards, but on a warm London evening (yes, they do exist), it's perfectly serviceable. Dogs are welcome, which adds to the general atmosphere of unpretentious conviviality. There's something wonderfully democratic about watching a designer-clad professional sharing a bench with a local laborer, both their dogs equally hopeful for dropped chips.

For those keeping score of practical matters: they take cards (though having cash won't hurt), the toilets are exactly what you'd expect from a proper pub (functional, if not fancy), and yes, you can actually hear yourself think - a novelty in London pubs these days. The prices are refreshingly reasonable, especially considering the quality of what's on offer. In a city where a mediocre pint can set you back the price of a small car, The Southampton Arms feels almost suspiciously good value.

Look, I didn't want to like The Southampton Arms. I really didn't. London has enough pubs claiming to be the real deal while serving overpriced craft beer to people who wouldn't know real ale from dish water. But this corner of Gospel Oak has something special - a pub that actually delivers on the increasingly rare promise of good drinks, good food, and good company without the usual London markup. Go there before everyone else discovers it. Just don't blame me when you can't find a seat at the bar.