The Twelve Pins

The Twelve Pins in London isn't just another pub on another corner - it's a slice of proper Irish hospitality dropped right into the heart of Finsbury Park. This beloved neighborhood institution has been serving up perfect pints and hearty fare long enough to see the area transform around it, while somehow managing to keep its soul perfectly intact. Like that friend who never changes despite all their success, The Twelve Pins remains gloriously authentic in a city that sometimes feels like it's losing its old-school charm.

Step through those familiar wooden doors, and you'll immediately understand why locals guard this place like a secret family recipe. The interior hits you with that perfect blend of Victorian grandeur and lived-in comfort - gleaming brass fixtures catching the light, dark wood panels telling silent stories of countless conversations, and those impossibly high ceilings that remind you they really don't make them like this anymore. It's the kind of pub where your grandfather would feel at home, but your trendy cousin from Shoreditch would still rate it as "actually quite cool."

The real magic of The Twelve Pins happens at the bar, where the staff possess that rare combination of efficiency and charm that seems to be a dying art in London these days. They'll remember your usual after just a couple of visits, and pour a Guinness with the kind of reverence that would make Dublin proud. Speaking of which, the Guinness here is consistently rated among the best in North London - creamy, properly settled, and served at that precise temperature that makes you wonder why it never tastes quite this good at home.

The food menu strikes that perfect balance between traditional pub grub and something a bit special. Their Sunday roast has achieved near-mythical status among locals, with portions generous enough to cure even the most stubborn hangover. The lamb or beef (sourced from local butcher Godfreys) comes perfectly cooked, accompanied by a vegetable medley that proves someone in the kitchen actually cares about what they're doing. At around £12 for a roast that could feed a small army, it's the kind of value that makes you question how they're making any profit at all.

During football matches, The Twelve Pins transforms into its alternate identity as one of North London's premier sports-watching venues. The atmosphere crackles with electricity, especially during big matches, but somehow never crosses that line into rowdiness that plagues lesser establishments. The multiple screens are thoughtfully placed so you won't miss a moment, whether you're perched at the bar or settled into one of the cozy corners.

The outdoor seating area becomes prime real estate during London's warmer months, with tables filling up faster than the Northern Line during rush hour. It's the perfect spot for watching the world go by while nursing a cold one, though you might have to sharpen your elbows to secure a spot on sunny weekends. The pub's dog-friendly policy means you'll often find yourself making four-legged friends, adding to that community feeling that's so rare in central London these days.

What really sets The Twelve Pins apart from London's countless other pubs is its ability to be all things to all people without losing its identity. It's where local old-timers share space with young professionals, where football fans and food enthusiasts find common ground, and where the prices remain surprisingly reasonable despite the area's ongoing gentrification. The payment system is thoroughly modern (they take everything from cash to contactless), but the service maintains that traditional Irish warmth that makes everyone feel like a regular.

Here's a tip for the uninitiated: arrive early for Sunday roast (they start serving at noon), and don't be shy about asking the staff for recommendations. The Twelve Pins in London isn't just a pub - it's a master class in how to keep tradition alive while moving with the times. Whether you're a local or just passing through Finsbury Park, do yourself a favor and stop in for a pint. Just don't blame me when it becomes your new favorite London pub.