Surviving the London Pub Market

Is the notion that a Pub in London can operate with total honesty and integrity and still be commercial, a romantic one?

Because that's what I've just been told. And I won't believe it.

I took some work recently with a Pub and Restaurant I'd approached mainly on the strength of a handful of solid consumer experiences. I’d been made to feel vindicated in my choice by an inaugural, often excruciating, but worthwhile company induction which spelled out the principles on which the business had been founded. These incorporated, in no specific order, Individuality (check - this place is brilliantly designed), Integrity (you'd hope so), Neighbourhood (or ‘community’), Detail (going the extra mile), and Progression (being possessed of a forward-thinking adaptability) as cornerstones of what they were about. As cornerstones of what I'm about, give or take an adjective, they all rang pretty true. The owners talked genuinely about longevity and, significantly for me, came across as really decent guys.

In practical effect, these values were being interpreted with some creativity. Where to start? The drinks. How much? I know this is London, but the cost just to be here is reason in itself, if you mean what you say about your role in the community, not to serve double measures as standard. That the only means to let customers know the score here is the tiny notice high on the wall behind the bar, rather suggests they're aware that to do so is more than a bit underhand. Any temptation to fore-warn people is tempered by the fact that it sounds like you're apologising for it. Many punters might count themselves fortunate if two proper drinks came in at less than £10. And stocking bottled Soda Water in order, presumably, that you can charge for it, smacks of an obtuse reticence to sidestep the slightest chance to cream a few quid extra.

In terms of a food offer, the quality wasn't in question. The value, though? And the kitchen's propensity to produce it in good time? Another matter entirely. A main meal in any establishment really ought to be served complete i.e. without needing to be supplemented by side orders, and priced accordingly. Not so here. Well, not always. That was another thing. The portion sizes were so inconsistent you couldn't confidently offer advice as to how best to order. Trying to do so might involve such thankless, arbitrary considerations as who was cooking and what kind of mood they were in. The real issue though, was the apparently intentional ruse to omit obvious accompaniments - no potato with the calf's liver, say - so to make sides essential and increase the spend per head necessary to balance a dish. Also, withholding bread rations until AFTER a table has ordered is as transparent a ploy as exists to optimize on the volume each table orders. Heaven forbid someone should have a slice of bread with butter and resolve to forego starters.

Obviously, some of these shortcomings are a direct result of operational procedures that appear to be dictated by pressure from above to get 'em in and get 'em out. So much for being 'progressive' in an effort to find intelligent solutions - the wait for food presented a big problem - and about as much for longevity. The place seemed utterly fixated on the flatteringly busy here and now. To hell with where they might be in ten years time. Just so long as their being in London excuses the automatic 12.5% service charge levied against tables whose waiter or waitress is that bit too cool to smile, and whose attitude stinks of doing just enough to preclude their customers waiving it.

None of which says anything of the fact that the aversion of the same staff members to picking up crap off the floor at the end of the night had led to a serious problem. One I didn't share my associates' ambivalence to. Especially after it had scampered square into my hand. I've eaten here, for Christ’s sake. Means to an end or not, I'm ill-equipped to stand by, listen as folks talk a good game, and then watch them summarily fuck it up. I left. And I left the owners in no doubt as to why. Don't tell me this is operating with integrity. Don't use the fact 'this is London' to manipulate a clientèle you're helping convince can expect no better, and who flock here without the frame of reference a decent local competitor would provide. And don't imply that the concept of carrying one of these businesses forward with an accurate take on the set of rules you've deluded yourselves you swear by, AND make good money doing it, is romantic. I've done it and I could do it again. In London. Tomorrow.