The Winchester

Just what North London needed - another supposedly historic pub resurrected from the brink of flat-conversion oblivion. The Winchester in London's Highgate neighborhood is the latest in a long line of Victorian boozers getting the preservation treatment, complete with the requisite etched glass and original features that seem calculated to make architectural enthusiasts swoon. How utterly predictable.

And yet, damn it all, they've actually done something right here. Despite my best efforts to maintain proper cynical distance, The Winchester has managed to worm its way into my reluctant affections. Perhaps it's the way the central bar commands the space like a mahogany-clad captain's bridge, its glass-fronted bar back reflecting the afternoon light in ways that make even mediocre pints look Instagram-worthy. (Though the pints here are decidedly not mediocre, which only adds to my irritation at having to praise the place.)

The thing about The Winchester is that it steadfastly refuses to fall into the usual traps of restored London pubs. You know the ones - those establishments that mistake stuffiness for authenticity and treat their historic status as an excuse to serve warm beer and cold welcomes. Instead, this Archway Road institution manages to balance its Victorian grandeur with an unexpectedly casual vibe that makes you forget you're sitting in a Grade II listed building.

Let's talk about that beer selection, shall we? While the £6.60 price tag for a Staropramen initially had me reaching for my pitchfork, the broader range of local London brews and carefully maintained cask ales provides enough options to soothe even my jaded palate. And in a move that should be ridiculous but somehow works, they've partnered with Yard Sale Pizza to handle the food offerings. It's the kind of modern compromise that would normally have me rolling my eyes, but when you're three pints deep and craving something more substantial than pub nuts, that 12" pizza starts looking like a stroke of genius.

The interior deserves special mention, if only because it manages to be impressive without descending into Victorian theme-park territory. The chequered tile and wooden floors provide a solid foundation (both literally and metaphorically) for an array of traditional seating that somehow avoids the dreaded "antique furniture museum" feel. That carpeted side room with its ornate woodwork should be insufferably precious, but instead feels like the perfect spot to hide away with a book and a pint on a rainy afternoon.

What truly sets The Winchester apart - and I can't believe I'm saying this - is its commitment to actual community engagement. Live jazz, comedy nights, quiz evenings, and even piano singalongs (yes, really) transform what could have been a mere architectural preservation project into something approaching a genuine local hub. The fact that they allow dogs only adds to the casual atmosphere, though I'll deny any allegations that I've been spotted cooing over visiting pups.

The staff, led by a manager whose personable nature seems suspiciously genuine, maintain the delicate balance between professional service and neighborhood familiarity. They'll remember your usual order without making a show of it, and handle everything from quiet afternoon pints to unexpectedly large group bookings with equal aplomb.

Located a mere five-minute stumble from Highgate tube station, The Winchester has become, against all odds and my better judgment, a destination worth seeking out in North London. Whether you're an architectural enthusiast, a beer aficionado, or simply someone in search of a proper pub that hasn't forgotten what that actually means, you'll find something to appreciate here.

Go on then - head to The Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all your cynicism to blow over. Just don't tell them I sent you. I have a reputation to maintain, after all.