When in Rome, you do what the Romans do. When in London, you go to the pub. With about 12 hours or so before my flight back to Melbourne, Ms S and I had lunch at The Northcote. Located in Clapham, the pub has a very twee British vibe that's obviously catering to the upwardly-mobile nouveau bourgeoisie that live in the area - think: Jamie Oliver trying to be the 'everyday' man but still somewhat self-conscious of the fact that he earns more than the man on the street.
Pub grub is the fare. Ms S' vegetarian gnocchi looked amazing. It was coated in a lovely rich cheesy sauce.
I have many peeves about British food but a nice piece of pan fried liver served with proper bacon, creamy mash and gravy isn't one of them. This was a pretty decent sized serve and also pretty decent in taste.
As we both felt like we had to be sensible, we got a serve of broccolini to share. While the mains were very nicely done, the greens were dismal. Overcooked, and I strongly suspected they were re-heated in the microwave.
Verdict: we liked it a lot
Overall
A nice pub. It's clean, friendly and light. The food is pretty good.
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