Kentish Town pubs

A behemoth of a pub situated just to the north of the tube station. High-ceilinged, cavernous and congenial. The laid-back ambiance is further massaged by the music being played: motown greats, reggae and a bizarre cover version of Depeche Mode’s ‘Just Can’t Get Enough’. The music is periodically disturbed by the rumblings of a tube train passing what feels like 10ft below the pub, although this is not an entirely bad experience. A good selection of quality food is served but the choice of beer, though by no means bad, was a little disappointing. On our visit TV presenter Rowland Rivron was having a pint. The remaining clientele are generally young professionals and they seem a decent enough bunch. Definitely worth staying here for a few pints and probably something to eat as well. A friendly and relaxed local in an affluent enclave between Highgate Road and Tufnell Park. As befits its location, the food on offer errs towards the goat’s cheese and olive oil gastro staples, yet it has not completely crossed over to the dark side and there are signs that this pub is trying to appeal towards a wider market. A programme of regular events including comedy acts, pub quizzes and live music alleviate an otherwise bland pub. For those amongst you who like their hangovers with extra bass, they even have Aspalls cider on tap. Thankfully now under new management, this pub has metamorphosed into a great local. The vast beer garden (by London standards) remains and the interior has been cleaned-up but to all intents and purposes the appearance has hardly changed in the five years since we last reviewed it. The changes that have occurred here are invisible yet significant. The locals still apparently drink here, possibly in even greater numbers than before thanks to the conviviality of the new management. Newcomers are made welcome even if they happen to be "closet goths". Forget the overpriced beer and dinky clientele at the nearby Assembly Rooms, there is much more fun to be had here. The beer garden has to be seen to be believed. A beautiful, if slightly faded, mural decorates the walls surrounding the garden. In contrast, the drab tobacco stained interior is typical of many a pub. The blandness is interrupted by a small stage in the back room which has no doubt been the focus of much alchohol fuelled gaelic "entertainment". The Irish landlord is utterly incomprehensible. The only word I could understand was f**k, which he used with alarming regularity. It is a habit which seems to have scared off most of the punters. Not reviewed yet.

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