Anglesea Arms, Ravenscourt Park

We were talking recently about how we should compare the venues we visit, in particular how we stack up bars against pubs on the same scale.

We felt that bars were more often going to come out on top because of the ludicrous attention to detail they put in but pubs aren’t really about that. However when you compare them point by point (drinks, standards, service etc) more often than not the bars are going to come out on top. Of course there is a quality to a great pub that takes the whole beyond the sum of its parts but this happens in bars too. All said and done, we stopped flapping about it and decided to let the chips fall where they may, resigned to the fact that the bars may well end up the prevalent outlets in the top fifty.

That was before we went to The Anglesea.

The pub sits in a little clump of Georgian (?) terraces the estate agents like to call ‘Brackenbury Village’ alongside Ravenscourt Park in between Hammersmith and Shepherds Bush. To be fair it is quite village-y  as it goes; tree-lined streets, bay windows and wisteria everywhere – very middle claarss, nice if that’s your thing.

In the interests of transparency, I’ve been here quite a few times before as I used to live ten minutes away, it’s long been a fondness of mine and I will admit to being more than a little chuffed when, as it were, the ball came out of the bag. Still, this is all God’s honest.

It’s a genuine local institution this place and there won’t be many of those nearby, no matter where you’re sat reading this. This is down to the fact that it’s one of the oldest gastro pubs going. It harks back to the days not long after pathfinders like the Eagle in Farringdon dragged fine dining, kicking and screaming, out of the restaurant and into the boozer; a path, I’m sure you’ve noticed, very heavily trodden since.

The Anglesea’s always heaving by mid-session, regardless, and you can’t book, but I like that. The menu, a combination of haute cuisine and English classics, is changed twice a day and is consistently excellent. The wine list is superb and extensive and the staff are good. In my book, uncannily good. We always look for effort made when we go out; good service is expected but if someone goes the extra yard it gets noticed.

We were sat at the bar and it was getting on, well past ten (J starts nodding around half-past) and we’d already eaten, but early, so when they were bringing the last plates out we started making oooh noises. I asked, completely on the off-chance, if they were still serving anything; the kitchen had closed some time before but the waitress said she’d ask. She came back and told us that the chef had a couple of goat’s cheese tarts he’d not sold and they were ours if we wanted them. Perfect, two happy customers. As we were tucking in the chef came through for some ice and saw us sat at the bar eating the tarts. He asked if we’d like some Dauphinoise potatoes to go with them and, preceded by eagerly nodding, munching heads, he brought out a giant bowl of perfectly cooked, creamy, cheesy goodness. And get this, they didn’t even charge us. By this time we both had that blokey ‘this place place ticks the boxes’ look on our face (the one with your mouth turned down at the sides) and you can’t do that without nodding a bit too.

Food finished, no mean feat as it turned out, we began chatting with the barman, an Hungarian bloke by the name of Csaba (Chaba). He’d only been working bar for a few months (straight out of IT) but he’d clearly found his calling, nothing was too much trouble, in fact he was itching to help us in any way he could. A rare trait these days and all the more impressive for it.

I’m fairly sure we had a bottle of wine, it may even have been two (I want to say Pinot Noir…) and we definitely had beer. I would have had Whisky. Clearly it’s not crystal but then I’m no memory-boy at the best of times never mind five-pubs-in on Publocation night. I do remember us harping on about how good the drinks were though and I also remember thinking it was only slightly biased by the magical potato incident.

Time was moving on so, fatter and wetter, we bid our hosts farewell and departed with a graceful flourish (for ‘graceful flourish’ read ‘embarrassing stumble over a pile of coats’). It was a fair stroll to the allocated bar for nightcaps, not helped by how much Goldhawk Road sucks for getting a taxi, but we didn’t shut up about the pub all the way there.

Publocation is all about great pubs but The Anglesea Arms is  not just a great pub; although we can’t guarantee everyone will have the same experience, in our opinion it’s one of the best. Great beer, great wine, great food, great atmosphere, great location, great service and buckets of that other thing that makes the best pubs more than just the sum of their parts. Really not bad at all.

I’m all about the bars and it’s a big call, but in all honesty if they carry on like this, the pubs might just take it.

Bobby

Where: The Anglesea Arms, 35 Wingate Road, London, W6 0UR

When: Thurs 28th Jan, 10pm

Unpublicised: Get there early if you want a table, no booking.

Closes: 12am (I think)
Restaurant: Lunch 12.30pm – 3pm
Dinner 6.30pm – 10pm (I’m guessing, there’s no website, but I’m sure it’s two sittings)

Tel: 020 8749 1291

Website: Seriously, no website

Menus: NO. WEBSITE.

Interest: They don’t have a website.