The White Bear

Just what London needs - another gastropub trying to convince us that charging Mayfair prices for pub grub is perfectly reasonable. The White Bear in London initially struck me as yet another victim of the capital's endless upscaling epidemic, where perfectly good boozers are transformed into Instagram-worthy "dining destinations." I arrived prepared to hate it. Spoiler alert: I failed.

Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, The White Bear is expensive. The kind of expensive that makes you wonder if they're secretly infusing their gin and tonics with liquid gold. £48 for two G&Ts and a large wine? I've had cheaper therapy sessions.

But damn them for actually being good at what they do.

The moment you step into The White Bear, you can tell they've resisted the temptation to go full "London gastropub makeover" - you know the type, where every surface is copper and the menu is written in a font so hipster it's practically illegible. Instead, they've maintained that elusive balance between proper pub and quality eatery. The space feels lived-in rather than designed-to-death, with comfortable seating that doesn't make you feel like you're dining in an architect's portfolio piece.

Their Sunday roast - which I tried purely for journalistic integrity, mind you - is annoyingly excellent. The lamb was cooked to the kind of perfection that makes you temporarily forget about your overdraft. The vegetables (which they'll top up without charging you an arm and a leg) aren't an afterthought, and the Yorkshire puddings are so good they could probably declare independence from the rest of the plate and start their own successful restaurant.

The heated rear seating area is a particular triumph. They've somehow managed to create an outdoor space that doesn't feel like you're dining in a wind tunnel, complete with complimentary blankets that aren't scratchy enough to complain about. String lights and thoughtful planting create an atmosphere that's actually... pleasant. I'm as surprised as you are.

The bar offerings are extensive, if eye-wateringly priced. But here's the thing - everything's actually properly made. The cocktails aren't just expensive; they're expertly crafted. The wine list isn't just marked up; it's well-curated. It's infuriating when you can't even properly complain about the quality.

Service manages to hit that sweet spot between attentive and overbearing. The staff actually know their menu - a novelty in London these days - and can guide you through it without reciting a memorized script or making you feel like you're being lectured on fine dining.

For those who care about such things, they're dog-friendly, though I suspect your four-legged friend needs to be as well-behaved as the clientele. There's free parking nearby - a miracle in London - and they take all forms of payment, which is helpful given you'll probably need to spread the cost across multiple cards.

The White Bear has done something I thought impossible in London's current dining scene - created a high-end pub that actually justifies its prices. Not through smoke and mirrors or marketing buzzwords, but through irritatingly consistent quality and attention to detail. Their kitchen turns out gastropub classics that make you remember why these dishes became classics in the first place.

So here I am, a jaded London food critic, reluctantly recommending you book a table at The White Bear. Yes, you'll pay more than you think you should for pub fare. Yes, you'll probably wince at the drinks prices. But somehow, inexplicably, you'll leave planning your return visit. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.