Yucatan Bar

Just what Stoke Newington needed - another pub masquerading as something exotic. The Yucatan Bar in London sounds like it should be serving up mezcal flights and authentic Mexican street food, but let's be honest, it's about as Yucatan as I am Yucatecan. And yet, against all odds and my better judgment, I find myself grudgingly admiring this place.

First, let's address the elephant in the room - the name. This former Victorian boozer, once sensibly called The Walford, decided to go all spring break on us. But here's the thing: unlike most identity-crisis pubs in London, the Yucatan Bar doesn't try too hard to live up to its misleading moniker. There's not a sombrero or neon cactus in sight, and thank goodness for that.

The interior reads like a love letter to traditional British pub architecture, with those ornate columns and etched glass panels that make you feel like you've stumbled onto a film set for a period drama. The dark wood servery running the length of the bar isn't trying to be anything other than what it is - a proper pub bar where your pint of Amstel (priced just high enough to make you think twice, but not high enough to make you leave) will be served without pretense.

Speaking of drinks, don't come here expecting craft mezcal flights or artisanal tequila. The beer selection is resolutely mainstream, but sometimes that's exactly what you want. The Guinness, I'm told by locals who look like they've consumed enough of it to earn a PhD in stout studies, is consistently excellent. And isn't there something refreshing about a place that knows exactly what it is?

The back area houses pool tables and a dartboard, because apparently some publicans still remember that pubs are supposed to be about more than just drinking while scrolling through Instagram. It's the kind of setup that makes you want to waste an entire Sunday afternoon pretending you're good at either game.

For sports fans - and I say this with the weariness of someone who's survived too many overcrowded football screenings - the Yucatan Bar actually gets it right. Multiple screens strategically placed so you're not doing yoga poses to see the score, and an atmosphere that manages to be lively without descending into chaos. When there's a big match on, the place transforms into the kind of community hub that makes you remember why pubs matter.

The service strikes that perfect London pub balance - friendly enough to make you feel welcome, but not so friendly that you suspect they're about to try selling you something. The staff actually seem to enjoy being there, which in today's hospitality climate is about as rare as finding a reasonable rent in Zone 2.

Location-wise, it's a ten-minute wobble from Rectory Road Overground, planted firmly on the corner of Stoke Newington Road and Walford Road. The position makes it impossible to miss, which is convenient when you're meeting friends who still can't use Google Maps properly.

Now, about the food - or rather, the lack thereof. Unless you count packets of crisps as fine dining, you won't be eating here. But in a neighborhood where every other establishment is trying to reinvent the wheel with their small plates menu, there's something almost noble about a pub that says, "We do drinks. That's it. Deal with it."

The price point sits in that sweet spot where you can have a few rounds without having to remortgage your house, though it's not quite cheap enough to make it your daily. But then again, what is these days in London?

For the skeptics wondering if the Yucatan Bar in London is worth their time, here's the reluctant truth: it is. Not because it's revolutionary or Instagram-worthy or even remotely connected to the Mexican peninsula it's named after. It's worth visiting because it's managed to maintain the essence of what makes a London pub great while surviving in an era where that's increasingly difficult to do.

Go for the surprisingly decent Guinness, stay for the pool tables, and forget about the name. Sometimes the best nights out in London happen in places that aren't trying to be the next big thing. Just don't expect tacos. Or sombreros. Or really anything Yucatan-related. And honestly? It's better that way.