Victoria Tavern N7

Just what North London needed - another pub claiming to be a proper local. The Victoria Tavern N7 sits on a bustling corner of Holloway Road, London, wearing its recently restored Victorian name like a badge of honor. I approached with the enthusiasm of a tax audit, fully prepared to add it to my mental list of mediocre London watering holes.

Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, it's walking distance from Emirates Stadium, which usually means a pub exists solely to serve overpriced lager to rowdy football fans. The Victoria Tavern N7 could've easily coasted on that location alone, yet somehow they've managed to avoid the usual pitfalls of becoming just another Arsenal matchday meat market.

I'll begrudgingly admit the exterior catches the eye, with its bold bluey-green paint job standing out among the urban sprawl like a peacock at a pigeon convention. The audacity of those massive orange pendant lights inside initially made me roll my eyes so hard I nearly saw my own brain. But then something strange happened - the space actually started to make sense.

The layout deserves particular mention, if only because it demonstrates rare intelligence in pub design. The main bar area flows naturally into a tucked-away rear section that feels like stumbling upon a secret room in your eccentric uncle's house. It's the kind of clever use of space that makes you wonder if they accidentally hired a competent architect.

Upstairs, they've managed to create something that shouldn't work but inexplicably does - a retro gaming area complete with table football that doesn't feel like a desperate attempt to appear "quirky." It's actually... fun. There, I said it. The kind of fun that makes you forget you're technically old enough to know better.

The beer selection is surprisingly comprehensive, with craft options sitting comfortably alongside familiar names. Prices hover around the £6 mark for a pint, which these days qualifies as reasonable in London's increasingly absurd economy. The staff actually seem to know their products too, a refreshing change from the blank stares you get at most establishments when asking anything more complicated than "where's the loo?"

Speaking of staff, they've somehow assembled a team that strikes that perfect balance between attentive and overbearing. Even the doormen - traditionally London's least cheerful profession - manage to be professionally welcoming rather than professionally intimidating.

The pizza menu deserves its own paragraph, if only because it's so annoyingly good. They've got an actual Italian chef (of course they do), and the results are impressive enough to make you forgive their smugness about it. The variety of options, including build-your-own and vegetarian choices, means you can actually satisfy both your traditionalist friend who only eats Margherita and your adventurous mate who wants pineapple and anchovies together (though why you're friends with them is another question entirely).

The clientele is refreshingly mixed, from London Metropolitan University students to middle-aged regulars who look like they've been there since the Victorian era. Somehow, they all coexist in a space that feels neither too hip nor too traditional. The soundtrack bounces between Oasis, Queen, and Bowie, creating an atmosphere that's both nostalgic and current - much like the pub itself.

For those keeping score at home: yes, there's live sports on the screens, but they haven't let it dominate the space. Yes, there's a piano, and yes, sometimes people actually play it without making you want to flee. And yes, they take cards, because they've apparently heard of the 21st century.

Look, I wanted to hate the Victoria Tavern N7. I really did. But like finding out your friend's irritatingly perfect new partner is actually genuine, sometimes you have to admit defeat. Whether you're killing time before a match, meeting friends for a casual pizza and pint, or just seeking refuge from the Holloway Road chaos, it works. The pub has managed to thread the needle between trendy and traditional, between sports pub and local, between old school and new wave.

Fine. Go there. See for yourself. Just don't blame me when you find yourself becoming one of those annoying people who's found their new favorite London pub. The Victoria Tavern N7 has earned its place in the capital's pub landscape, and I hate that I have to tell you that.