White Hart

Just what London needs - another riverside pub claiming to serve proper food alongside the obligatory pints and pleasantries. The White Hart in Barnes has all the typical trappings: historic building (check), Thames-side views (naturally), and a carefully curated menu that probably uses the word "artisanal" more times than necessary. I approached with measured expectations, which is to say, none at all.

But damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my cynical heart like a particularly persistent earworm. The 300-year-old building actually wears its age with grace rather than desperation, unlike some of the try-hard vintage venues dotting the capital. The riverside location could easily be its only selling point, but the White Hart seems determined to be more than just another pretty facade.

Let's talk about the circular bar, shall we? It's the kind of architectural feature that makes you wonder if the Georgian builders were showing off or just drunk. Either way, it works. The space flows naturally, creating little pockets of conversation without feeling like you're being herded into designated "atmospheric zones" like some corporate pub chain's idea of authenticity.

The drinks selection deserves mention, if only because it managed to surprise me. Yes, you'll find your usual suspects - the lagers that tourists expect and the craft beers that locals demand. But there's genuine thought behind the curation. The rotating taps suggest someone actually cares about what's being poured, rather than just following a head office memo about what's trending this quarter.

Now, about the food. I was prepared for the usual pub grub masquerading as gastropub fare, with prices inflated to match the postcode. Instead, I found myself begrudgingly impressed by plates that showed actual cooking skill. The sausages aren't just thrown on a plate with some mash - they're properly seasoned and paired with sides that suggest someone in the kitchen actually tasted the dish before sending it out. The blue cheese croquettes are a particular standout, managing to be both indulgent and refined, much like the pub itself.

Service can be hit or miss, particularly during peak hours, but there's an authenticity to the staff that's refreshing. They're not performing hospitality; they're actually doing their jobs, complete with occasional moments of genuine personality. What a concept.

The outdoor seating area deserves special mention, if only because it doesn't try to cram in tables until you're practically sitting in strangers' laps. The views of the Thames are spectacular, yes, but it's the spacing that makes it civilized. You can actually have a conversation without broadcasting it to half of Barnes.

Dog-friendly without being a canine circus, group-friendly without devolving into chaos, and priced just reasonably enough to make you feel like you're not being completely fleeced - it's all suspiciously well-balanced. The ability to book ahead is a godsend, particularly for Sunday lunch when half of London seems to descend upon Barnes in search of roasts and riverside views.

Speaking of which, let's address the Sunday roast situation. While not every plate achieves perfection (the kitchen can sometimes get heavy-handed with the pepper), when they get it right, it's proper competition for your nan's cooking. Not that you should ever admit that to her.

The White Hart sits in that sweet spot between casual boozer and special occasion venue. It's the kind of place where you could pop in for a quick pint and end up staying for dinner, or deliberately plan an evening around it without feeling like you're trying too hard. The fact that they accept both cards and contactless payments means you won't have to perform the traditional British pub sprint to the nearest cash point.

In a city drowning in establishments trying desperately to be "authentic London pubs," the White Hart in Barnes manages to simply be one, without making a fuss about it. Book ahead, particularly for weekend visits, and try to snag a riverside table if you can. Just don't blame me if you end up making it your regular spot. I certainly won't admit how often I find myself there, despite my best intentions to maintain professional distance.