Whitechapel pubs

Now closed The day I learned that the Black Bull had shut was a black day for me and I feared the worst: yet another pub re-incarnated as a bland hell-hole aimed at students, or worse still, condemned to be a fried chicken restaurant. I took my first tentative steps inside and discovered to my delight that very little had changed. The place has had a well-earned lick of paint and been spruced up a bit, but nothing too drastic. The huge silhouetted black bull has been replaced by a colony of LCD screens that seem to have spread out across the pub. There is an incongruous area of kitchen surfacing, presumably for food displaying purposes. An advertisement outside the pub states that Indian food is served within, although this was conspicuous by its absence on our visit. The same delicious range of Nethergate ales are served at the bar and the staff were friendly northern folk. This pub is still in a state of change, but the signs are good. I look forward to returning to sample the Indian food. The outside looks like Newgate Prison on a bad night, but get through the solid looking defences and this is actually a pretty decent place, if rather alarmingly quiet on a Saturday night. The beer is good and the decor moulders pleasantly in the background, as does most of the clientele. There is a lack of media chin-strokers, which is always a bonus A pleasant and welcoming pub standing proudly on the corner of Whitechapel Road and Cambridge Heath Road. On our last visit it was a chilly evening and there was a roaring log fire which helped the beer flow. The pub attracts visiters from far flung corners of London all wanting to boast to their friends that they drank in the pub where the Krays shot George Cornell. I think some of the furniture dates back from those days too. The streets to the east of Tower Hill have been under siege from the ever encroaching office buildings of the city over the past decade, yet there are still some hidden surprises. This pub is one of them. Most other pubs in the area have either been displaced by trendy chain bars or have aped them. This place retains the comfortable dark ambience of a traditional English pub and has a relaxed, easy-going ambience. There were three ales available on our visit: London Pride, Adnams and a third whose name we can’t remember. The food menu juxtaposes traditional English pub grub with Thai food and the prices seemed to be good value for this part of London. The clientele were a curious mix of regulars and local office workers but everybody seemed to get along well. Open at weekends – which probably explains the regulars. A quiet local boozer just off the Commercial Road. The main features of this otherwise unremarkable pub are its beer garden and the stag’s head mounted on the wall. This traditional pub has apparently been given a new lease of life in recent years following the conversion of the Victorian warehouses opposite into offices. Friendly staff offer a variety of beers and ales including IPA, Pride and Flowers (although the latter was off on our visit). The pub boasts everything a discerning punter needs: pool table, darts, fruit machines, a beer garden (not seen) and a conservatory thingy off to one side. During this review, the latter space contained the alcohol-soaked remains of an office party and after a few minutes a couple staggered out into the bar. The woman asked whether her male companion looked like the rat character played by Timothy Spall in the Harry Potter films. He pulled a face and I swear it was like I had been transported to Diagon Alley. He was the spitting image. The man shook my hand and the couple disappeared. Surreal moments aside, this is a fine pub that does a good job of serving local workers and residents alike. I had heard some rumours about this place recently. The first revelation was the surprising news that this was a safe watering hole and given the source of this information I knew that I wouldn't be needing my stab vest after all. The second rumour was that the place had 'gone trendy'. I was intrigued and seeing as I only live around the corner I simply had to pay a visit. The pub is a grand early 19th century edifice that stands proudly on the corner of Jubilee Street and Commercial Road. Its white façade is dominated by an enormous "Double Diamond" sign. Its size leads you to falsely believe it is the name of the pub. The first impression is of an Eastend boozer that has fallen on hard times. A derelict and very dodgy nite (sic) club named "Stepneys" occupies the arse-end of the pub. It has obviously been a very long time indeed since the dance floor pulsated to the rhythm of white stilettos. It is hard to imagine it as a salubrious venue even when it was open. As a consequence of all of this you can be forgiven for wanting to turn on your heels and walk away - but don't, this is an interesting place. On entering you find yourself in a large room with the wooden floors, battered furniture and a whole host of items that look like they have been rescued from a skip. The wooden posts have been stripped to achieve a 'distressed' look and the whole place resembles a trendy version of Steptoe's yard, but with candles. A wooden panelled bar occupies one end of the room. The decorative tiled wall behind the bar has to be seen to be believed. I think the whole rustic chic look works here, although I fear the pub could fall flat on its arse in the bleak environs of Commercial Road. However, judging by the people going though the door on a Friday night it might just make it. Beer-wise there is Czech lager on tap and ale lovers will find an interesting range of bottled beers if they look hard enough. Surprising. I can scarcely believe that its been a year since I last set foot in here, which is a shame because it's a great pub. On this occasion a heady mix of doctors, nurses and students from the nearby Royal London Hospital were letting off steam after a hard day of attending to patients. Bar staff remained friendly despite the crush of bodies at the bar. On my previous visit in the company of master pub reviewer Fred and our partners we appalled the barmaid by ordering four hot toddies. The good news is that they still do them although the bar staff have attempted to hide the chalked notice behind some packets of peanuts - not well enough though. A well loved classic. It was a Sunday night and there was time for a cheeky "after curry pint" before closing time. The problem was that we happened to be in Commercial Road, an area not known for its quality drinking establishments. Time to go through the safety checks:

1. Lower the standards to a realistic level. Check.

2. Peer through the window of the pub and see who's inside. No brooding nutcases. Check.

3. Were we too smartly dressed? We had forgotten our "Chav" uniforms but we looked passable. It was time to go in.

As we passed the threshold our ears were assaulted by the jukebox on full volume. We hurried towards the bar in a failed bid to escape the noise, all the while suppressing the urge to laugh. The bar stretched along the right hand wall in the general direction of the pool table at the back. Football banners (mostly Glasgow Rangers) cover the ceiling. The barmaid duly served us and announced that the round of three drinks would cost us the princely sum of £5.80, the same price as a mineral water in some parts of the capital. We took our drinks to the nearest available table which happened to come with an authentic set of plastic garden chairs and relaxed, or at least tried to relax. The jukebox cranked up a gear and let loose with "Everything I do I do it for You" by Bryan Adams - the extended mix (Aaargh!). There was a brief respite from the demonic jukebox and it was at this point that realised I was drinking the most watery and insipid pint of beer known to man. Ah, that's why it was so cheap. Perhaps it really was brown foamy water. The ringing of last orders and the bolting of the front door heralded a moment of hilarity. It was at this point when the jukebox went in for the kill and subjected us to a re-run of THAT song and we all began to feel like residents of Camp X-Ray in Guantanamo Bay. An evening that none of us shall forget in a long time. This small pub opposite the East London Mosque used to be called the Old Blue Anchor, but was reborn under its current name in 1999. The pub is clearly geared towards the younger market with beers such as Budvar Dark and Cristal on offer. Bombardier is the token ale. Food-wise, the pizza menu makes an excellent diversion from the usual pub fayre and is a perfect way to soak up the alcohol. The only criticism is the buttock-numbing wooden seats which include a set of church pews. In spite of this the seats enhance the character of the place and the pub is a must for any Whitechapel pub crawl. As you exit the tube, this place is impossible to miss. In fact, dark glasses might be required to avoid the glare of its tiger-print exterior. Unlike other urban bars this place has so far managed to avoid disappearing up its own orifice and has plenty to charm the mostly young crowd that flock here – eclectic beers, cocktails, wine and food. For those who like a bit of latin rhythm, Tuesday nights are salsa nights. This usually involves pissed medical students pretending to be Ricky Martin by shaking their bits to Livin’ La Vida Loca. Pub football viewing is possibly at the polar opposite end of the entertainment spectrum. During the last World Cup this pub declared itself a football free zone in a bid to attract football widows – a strategy that seemed to work. Serves free popcorn if you’re lucky. One of the better pubs of its genre. I'm never sure about pubs with mezzanines. As Al Murray's Pub Landlord once put it: "Did spitfires have mezzanines? No! So why should pubs?" It's too much of a chain pub thing and lacks the egalitarianism of the great boozer. Having said that, the Old Dispensary isn't bad at all. Light and airy, with inoffensive pub-lite decor, the downstairs seemed to be full of an office party's shattered remnants while the, ahem, mezzanine seemed to be more of an exclusive female preserve (at least until we lumbered up and started bemoaning the state of football). All really rather pleasant, and seemed to have been picked by many people as a place they could sit and chat without much interruption. Sky sports played on a big screen with the volume turned down. There were some monster beers on tap, too. Food etc. This pub has a split personality. On the one hand its long narrow wood panelled walls covered in images of Victoriana and dark smoky atmosphere evoke a bygone age when lewd women plied their trade in fuggy alehouses and dingy gas-lit East End alleyways. A chalked board at the end of the room advertises that Martha Tabram was in this pub just three nights before she was found murdered in a nearby street - perhaps at the hands of Jack the Ripper... On the other hand it is a bit of a locals' pub. There was a refreshing lack of suits - unusual for an early evening so close to the City. The amenable landlord was locked in amusing banter with the "geezers" lining the bar and knocking back pint after pint of fine beer while the big screen showed a lacklustre Manchester City exit the UEFA Cup by the back door. This pub has been given a new lease of life in recent years. It now boasts regular entertainment including SkySports, live bands, quiz nights and karaoke. However, this is a pub which is perhaps trying too hard to please everybody and as a consequence lacks some atmosphere. Nevertheless, it is worth a look in if you happen to be in the area. If you are lucky a sozzled old woman will try and sell you some dodgy raffle tickets purporting to be for charity (old biddies saturday night booze fund as I recall!) Not reviewed yet.

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