Leafy Wilton Row is so mature it feels like a slice of the countryside with a London postcode. The Grenadier, originally an officers’ mess for the 1st Royal Regiment of Foot Guards, maintains its 350-year bond with servicemen via an interior hung with antique pots from army kit bags, and paintings of soldiers from bygone eras. But this place certainly doesn’t stand to attention: staff are friendly, and the unpretentious bar and interconnecting back rooms feature ceilings plastered with signed dollar bills from visiting Americans who’ve happened upon this old-fashioned hidey-hole. In fact, few tourists actually make it here, and the clientele – mainly salubrious local gents making exuberantly wealthy style statements – sip their pints of London Pride and Timothy Taylord Landlord in peace.