Howson's Qype profile

I quite like Bar Kick. Everybody likes table football, everybody likes beer. It’s win win. The only downside would be the fact that it gets so packed that you often have to wait ages for your turn at a table. This is hardly tragic, though. See aforementioned beer.

The bar downstairs, which I ventured into for a friend’s comedy night, is smaller and rather more intimate. It’s for grown ups. The comedy night was phenomenal, though (as usual, I admit that there may be a slight bias here, as I knew each and every person that was on).

Also, if you happen to be wandering down Shoreditch High Street at lunchtime, I’d wander in. The portions are huge and the food is excellent. I had a chorizo and bean stew thing that had me slumbering at my desk for the rest of the day. Always a plus.

(This is a last minute addendum, but just realised this review is under the wrong bar. This is a review of Bar Kick in Shoreditch, as opposed to “Cafe Kick”, which is in Exmouth Market. Thus the confusion.)

A very cool pub. The chairs upstairs are so massive and comfy, you find yourself doing a messy adolescent sprawl, limbs all over the place. There is a wide selection of great beer and, while I understand from the reviews above that some people have had issues with the staff, I thought everyone that worked there was really friendly, helpful and generally on the ball. Perhaps I got lucky.

Downstairs, the animal print rug gave me cause for concern, but it all kind of works. Edgy decor, no? The live music was great - folksy ballads at their best. (I may be somewhat biased about this, as I was there to hear my friend). The rather mouldy damp smell is a bit hard to ignore, though.

The food was well cooked, extremely filling stodge. If fish finger sandwiches and sausages and mash literally swimming in gravy are your bag, you need look no further than the Slaughtered Lamb.

This is a nice little bar. The decor is hardly inspired, but it’s reasonably pleasant, although the circular white couches seem to be trying a bit hard for “trendy”. And failing.

The drinks are very reasonably priced for the area and the cocktails are delicious. On the night I went there, though, there was only one girl on the bar. As the place got quite full and she was expected to do table service (clearly, one cannot carry one’s own champagne), the poor thing was rushed off her feet and the wait for your drinks was a bit longer than I would generally deem acceptable. However, the mellow vibe and the fact that she was quite clearly doing her best kept even the bolshiest patrons sweet.

The music is a mish mash of laidback R’n’B, “old school” and a bit of Latin. Once again, not generally my taste, but it works.

In conclusion, Vendome is an ideal stop for a few (too many) mid week drinks. It is also only a hop and a skip away from Boujis is you wish to carry on the evening’s festivities.

The Griffin is a little grotty, slightly smelly and extremely cool. It’s a proper pub, with no delusions of grandeur. Situated on Leonard Street, it is smack in the middle of Shoreditch “galleryland” and extremely popular as an after work drink spot, so it gets quite rammed and most of the clientele are at least vaguely 'arty’.

There is a pool table at the back, which you have to practically edge around to get to the tiny, single serving loos (ladies, be warned, the probability of a fifteen minute wait is high, so start queuing early) and a small canopy type affair out front to shelter the nicotine addicted from inclement weather. The tables are small, the chairs mismatched and the bar service erratic, but pleasant. The music is anything and everything from Sade, to the Smiths, to Spandau Ballet, and then back again.

Basically, it is either your sort of place or it isn’t. It is a full two and a half minutes from my work and I am extremely fond of it. Oh, and you can get a pint and a doorstep sandwich for £4.50 - as an early lunch, this has proven to be a surprisingly effective hangover cure. Classy.

Cocomo is fabulous. I love the overstuffed cushions, mirrors and tassels - it all gives one the impression that one is in a Moroccan souk. A souk where they have Jukebox Tuesdays and play a lot of The Smiths. Fabulous!

The bar staff are very friendly, offer advice (apparently, the milkshakes are an unwise choice) and always seem to be having a really great time. They also make excellent cocktails - I recommend the mojitos.

Er, no. Just no. One ill-fated Tuesday night, I unwisely allowed myself to be coaxed into On Anon. Within ten minutes I was trying to coax my friends out again.

Even that early in the week the place was packed, the music was a rather tragic mix of R’n’B and bubblegum pop and the clientele consisted of students, tourists and aggressive girlies on the pull. Literally everyone seemed to be on the make and if there were several separate areas, I certainly didn’t see them. After a disgusting “surprise” shot that tasted like Orangina, followed by a shot of the worst tequila I have ever tasted (And I have been to some truly dodgy places) I decided to pack it in.

Not to be unpleasant, but the Broca seems to be frequented almost solely by yummy mummies with no jobs and their extremely smug partners (who I strongly suspect voted for Boris). The food is rather erratically priced and the incessant chatter about house prices is almost enough to drive one mad. There are several lovely little places in Brockley, but the Broca is not one of them. Avoid.

My feelings about Jewel are somewhat mixed. It is an extremely pretty bar, particularly if you go in for lavish, vaguely Gothic decor. Like most places in the general West End area it is a little bit up itself and the drinks are so ridiculously overpriced I occasionally found myself tittering (I find financial excess amusing, don’t ask me why).

On the other hand, the cocktails are very good and it’s ideally located for the beginning of a girl’s night out during the week or a few post show drinks. Slightly older gentlemen in suits will attempt to buy you drinks, however, so beware. Unless you like slightly older gentlemen in suits - in which case, Jewel is your Promised Land.

I have been here twice and was rather sozzled on both occasions. This is unfortunate as, if memory serves (which is somewhat debatable), it is quite a cool little place. I would go so far as to call it a cool little 'joint’.

It seems to get rather crowded quite quickly, but it’s a pleasant, happy sort of crowding as opposed to the sweaty, mildly desperate kind. The music was very good, but intermittently baffling (my friend informed me that I was a philistine).

I would definitely recommend it as a last stop on a liver punishing night in Soho, but am unsure as to whether I would enjoy it if I actually started my evening there. Having never been in any condition to sample the food, I can’t really comment on that side of things. Oh, and the oil paintings, which I initially dismissed as unbearably tacky, grew on me as time passed. I almost quite like them now.

The Wickham is an old man’s pub. This is not necessarily a bad thing (particularly if you happen to be an old man), but is not hugely endearing if you happen to drop in for last orders on a Sunday night.

There is a lot of red velour happening, a jukebox with slightly bizarre selections and a beer garden at the back which consists of half a dozen tables planted higgledy piggledy in foot long grass (although, to be fair, there are tables in front sans grass and under some quite cute canopies). There is also a room solely dedicated to the noble sport of pool.

The bar staff are always extremely courteous and very efficient. However, if you are not a local, prepare to be viewed with the utmost suspicion by everyone around you (possibly including me). You have been warned.