The Stag, Hampstead
To follow a previous analogy, if the Regent is an old friend and The Churchill Arms is an older brother then The Stag must be, by definition, my old friend’s sister. Therefore do I fancy the pants off her from afar, pretend to ignore her beauty whilst secretly liaising with her at every opportunity? Or do I hang with the lads, play it cool and avoid her like the plague? OK, you’re on to me- I’ve been back and I’m looking to take advantage of her at every opportunity. It may not be love but the infatuation is growing.
So much so that Publocation have broken it latest spate of west London love affairs to head North- not Skegness magnitude north , and we’re far from slumming it, but the rarefied air tastes good. We’ve stood upon, spilled pints and crisscrossed Hampstead many times before, few pubs escaping us, but the latest incarnation of this hundred plus year old boozer- courtesy of the Perett brothers of Regent fame- is new on the Publocation radar.
I’ll have a balanced view of this one given I’ve seen the Thursday late , lads, lagered version and the Saturday, Valentine’s, sober enough to get home but too drunk to stay awake (stupid romantic promises)version. My first encounter was at the end of yet another Publocation crawl that began on a rainy night with two above middling gastro pubs in Kentish Town. We then moved into to a futile black cab search for a boozer we now know has been a ghost since the mid 90s, before heading toward the big reveal. The Regent lives and breaths in the north. Please be good, please be good- I’ve built it up and my inebriated colleagues will have lost all tendencies to mercy.
First good news is it exists and I didn’t get us lost. Secondly- its huge- proper 100 year plus Victorian , there is no medium or small option, darkened, big glassed, high ceiling behemoth that those top hatted, coal fire churning ancestors of ours never appreciated bar the end of week pint of stout. It’s a squeeze front of bar purely because there are some long wooden tables chocker with punters and more at the bar making the route to the left flank and upstairs loos a mission, but no dramas. We dive straight into a Peroni though all the premium pouring lagers are on display- alas none of these very special branded glasses but our saviours behind the bar offers to grab some from the upstairs bar- no bother. First tick big tick- good friendly, can-d0 service and nothing a problem. There are also rows of fridges decked out in all the lagers of the world – 190 countries but odds are good they ‘ll have one of them.
A quick look around the left flank reveals an even bigger table, again fully loaded, a fire place , a set of stairs winding to a landing (toilets) followed by another set to the upstairs bar and oft come comedy club/private room. The upstairs mens appears locked but is apparently just stuck. Give it a hard nudge I’m advised and I follow said advice fully expecting to collide with the back of someones head- guaranteed bigger and drunker than mine. I’m in and fortunately not the case, hoping the same door doesn’t collect my head. All around the walls are dosed in various movie quotes and painted icons of the past- Gritty like but pretty cool.
While we mulled over this close relative of The Regent, comparing the family likeness, the doors to the rear beckoned and we headed out for a look. That’s where the family likeness ended. Through the thawing winter dark a garden of megalithic scale turned our gaze 360. Gazebo-like surrounds against the far wall housed a few hardy patrons but the scale left me dreaming of summer and an imminent return.
No time for food on this particular evening as the local curry house was calling. On my Valentines night return however , more sedate and much less intoxicated, I was able to sample the wares. Roasts, burgers and seafood are the keepers but there is plenty more on the standard menu- chicken liver parfait, Spanish meat board, interesting salads, surf and turf, and lamb neck fillet to name a handful. This particular romantic evening we go for the prawn tempura (couldn’t sell her on the oysters) the meat platter and the cheese board all washed down with a few pints of Peroni (again they sought branded on my behalf- sweet diligence). All good quality rustic fare and with enough interest and personality to tempt the session lover or food crusader.
This diligence is something that seems embedded in staff generally across the P&P estate and just goes to show you can’t go past good old fashioned customer service. I hope you can find one near you, and that this this northerly excursion and the recently opened Mall Tavern in Notting Hill signal a growth in more of its kind.
She ‘s elegant, beautiful, too cool (but hopefully not still going to school) and I shall soon be plying her with shots and sweet nothings before the summer has a chance to stretch its toes. I’m feeling the love
Where: The Stag, 67 Fleet Road, London, NW3 2QU
When: Saturday 13th Feb, 2010 @ 8.00 pm
Stars: 
Tel: 020 7722 2646
Website: www.thestaghampstead.com
Menus: Fixed with daily special and seasonal variations
Unpublicised: Phone ahead for beer tastings, comedy nights and music. Go around the world by lager while you’re there.
Interest: The nooks and crannies of Hampstead offer plenty of interesting libation or head up to the Heath
