The Swan

Just what West London needs - another gastropub masquerading as a proper boozer. The Swan in London's Chiswick neighborhood seems determined to join the ranks of establishments where the closest thing to a proper pint is some craft IPA that costs more than my first car. And yet...

I found myself reluctantly charmed by this Thames-adjacent tavern, despite my best efforts to maintain professional cynicism. Perhaps it was the way sunlight streams through the windows of the carefully maintained Victorian building, or maybe it was the surprisingly unpretentious welcome from staff who actually seem to enjoy their jobs (a rarity in London these days).

The garden - and I use that term loosely, as most London pubs consider three plants and a wooden bench a "garden" - is actually rather lovely. It's the kind of space that makes you forget you're in the city, until a plane heading to Heathrow rudely reminds you. But The Swan has managed to create something that feels authentic rather than manufactured, which is more than I can say for most venues trying to capitalize on the outdoor dining trend.

Let's talk about the food, shall we? The menu walks that precarious line between pub classics and contemporary fare without tumbling into the abyss of pretentiousness. Their Sunday roast (because what's a London pub review without mentioning the Sunday roast?) manages to be both traditional and noteworthy - no small feat in a city where every establishment claims to serve "the best roast in London." The beef is properly pink, the Yorkshire puddings aren't bearing any unfortunate resemblance to collapsed soufflés, and the roast potatoes actually taste like they've seen the inside of an oven rather than a microwave.

The regular menu deserves mention too, though I'm slightly annoyed at how good it is. The calamari (yes, calamari in a pub - welcome to 2025) is surprisingly fresh and properly crispy, not those rubber bands in batter you get at lesser establishments. The lamb shank falls off the bone with appropriate dramatics, and the pasta dishes suggest someone in the kitchen actually knows their ragu from their ragout.

What truly sets The Swan apart from London's endless parade of gastropubs is its ability to maintain its pub soul while serving food that wouldn't be out of place in a proper restaurant. The bar still feels like a place where you could order a pint without being judged for not selecting something with notes of "distant pine and pretension." They've managed to achieve that elusive balance between updating for modern tastes and preserving what makes a pub a pub.

The pricing is what you'd expect for this part of London - which is to say, it's not cheap, but you won't need to remortgage your house for dinner and drinks. The portions are generous enough that you won't immediately need to stop for chips on the way home, which is more than can be said for some of its competitors.

Service manages to hit that sweet spot between attentive and overbearing. Yes, they occasionally forget a starter or bring things in the wrong order, but they handle it with such genuine apology that it's hard to maintain any real irritation. It's refreshingly human in an era where many venues seem to be training their staff to behave like particularly enthusiastic robots.

The crowd is a mix of locals who've been coming here since before it was "gastro" anything, young professionals pretending they can afford to live in Chiswick, and families taking advantage of the child-friendly policy. Somehow, it works. The atmosphere remains convivial rather than chaotic, even during peak Sunday lunch hours.

Look, I wanted to dislike The Swan. I really did. London has enough gastropubs claiming to revolutionize the concept of pub dining. But this place has managed to do something rather special - it's evolved without losing its soul. The food is good enough to justify the prices, the drinks selection balances tradition with modern tastes, and the atmosphere makes you want to linger even after you've paid the bill.

If you must venture to West London (and I suppose occasionally you must), The Swan offers a rather compelling reason to do so. Just don't blame me when you find yourself becoming one of those insufferable regulars who claims "their" table by the window. Book ahead for Sunday lunch, bring your dog if you have one, and prepare to be annoyingly impressed. Just try not to tell too many people about it - it's irritating enough having to admit I like the place myself.