The Red Lion

When this tiny tavern fills up with suits at lunchtime, shoehorn yourself in at its island bar for a pint of Fuller’s Chiswick, ESB, London Pride or Gale’s Seafarers Ale, taking care lest a pinstripe’s straying Champagne cork (from a bottle at well under the going West End rate) hits you head-on. Beyond the foliage-festooned frontage lies a fine sepia-tinted interior, all Fanny by Gaslight come evening, with brilliant-cut frosted mirrored glass, elaborate carved mahogany & an impossibly intimate snug. This little gem recalls the days of Downton Abbey, when hostelries such as this were designed to give those ‘downstairs’ a taste of ‘upstairs’ living. Food is suitably ersatz Mrs Bridges: bangers, fish & chips, sarnies & pies.