The Victoria

Just what London needs - another Victorian-era pub trying to convince us it's somehow different from the other thousand venues serving fish and chips and warm beer. The Victoria in London's bustling theatre district had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. Sure, it's got that whole "historic charm" thing going for it, but so does every other establishment that's survived since Queen Vic herself was throwing shade at Albert.

But damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my cynical heart like a particularly persistent earworm. I wanted to hate The Victoria, I really did. The worn wooden floors, the brass fixtures that have witnessed more drama than the nearby Apollo Theatre - it should have been eye-rollingly cliché. Instead, I found myself becoming that most insufferable of creatures: a pub convert.

Let's talk about the beer selection, shall we? Unlike most London pubs that seem to think three varieties of lukewarm ale constitute a "extensive selection," The Victoria actually knows what they're doing. The Greene King offerings are surprisingly well-kept, and the staff - curse them - actually know their stuff. When I tried to catch them out with some obscure beer questions, they responded with the kind of encyclopedic knowledge that makes a critic's job significantly more difficult.

The food. Oh, how I wanted to write some scathing commentary about yet another pub serving the same tired British classics. But here's the thing - they're actually doing it properly. The fish and chips (which I ordered purely for research purposes, mind you) arrived with batter so crisp it practically sang, while the fish inside remained delicately flaky. The steak and ale pie - which I definitely didn't go back for three times - manages that rare feat of having both perfect pastry and generous filling. It's infuriating how good it is.

The space itself deserves mention, though I'm loathe to give it more praise. High ceilings, those absurdly ornate Victorian details, and windows that actually let in natural light - a concept seemingly foreign to most London pubs. They've managed to maintain the historical features while somehow making it feel relevant to modern London, which is no small feat.

What really gets under my skin is the atmosphere. Despite my best efforts to maintain professional distance, I found myself drawn into conversations with both staff and fellow patrons. The Victoria has that intangible quality that makes you forget you're in central London, mere steps from the tourist chaos. It's like being in someone's particularly well-stocked living room, if that living room happened to serve excellent drinks and had surprisingly comfortable seating.

The service deserves special mention, if only because it's rendered my usual complaints obsolete. The staff operates with an efficiency that borders on suspicious - how dare they be both knowledgeable and friendly? It's almost as if they actually enjoy working there, which goes against everything I believe about hospitality industry dynamics.

For those requiring practical information (though I can't imagine why you'd want to actually visit and prove me right), The Victoria accepts all major payment methods, offers both indoor and outdoor seating, and - in a shocking display of modern thinking - actually takes reservations. They're dog-friendly, which means you might have to share space with some four-legged critics, but honestly, they're usually better behaved than most of the human variety.

Live sports are shown here, but unlike many places that transform into shouty caves of testosterone during matches, The Victoria somehow maintains its dignity. The multiple screens are positioned thoughtfully, allowing both sports fans and those seeking quiet conversation to coexist in relative harmony.

Look, I didn't want to like The Victoria. It goes against everything I stand for as a professional cynic. But if you're in central London and seeking a pub that actually deserves your time and money, you could do far worse. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain. And if you happen to be there when they're serving the sticky toffee pudding... well, save me a portion, will you? For research purposes, of course.