Latchmere

When the Latchmere’s previous landlord rang down the curtain on the pub last year, fans of the first-floor Theatre503 were worried that this landmark Victorian theatre pub might be blighted by developers, or simply left to rot like the nearby Battersea Power Station. Their concerns were unfounded, as the fringe theatre has continued with barely a pause between acts, and the rest of the building has been renovated with no mahogany surface left unpolished, no mirror ungilded. The refurb enhances its Victorian looks – this was an era when men and women wore practical headgear and foxes were something you chased across fields, not out of your wheelie bin.

While interiors experts will notice the framed foxhound prints and historical print upholstery, beer-lovers will appreciate the brief selection of well-kept ales, Timothy Taylor Landlord or the local Sambrook’s Wandle among them.

The menu is more ambitious than it needs to be with such a captive crowd of thespians and locals. A ‘scotch egg’ is encased in black pudding; scallops are seared then served with pancetta and a spicy horseradish ‘gazpacho’. Our smiling waitress was on the ball, the service brisk.

We noticed a troupe of actors heading straight into the garden after a performance. Fag break? Nope, it was the underseat garden heating attracting them, complete with rainproof cabanas and table service. Victorian values are long-gone, and not even artists want to starve in cold garrets any more.