As soon as autumn rolls around, there’s no question I like being asked more than the one which goes: ‘Pub?’
When the nights start drawing in and you re-embrace your Big Massive Coat, the only thing better than sitting in a warm, wood-panelled room with a pint or glass of red is doing so while also being served plates of thoughtful, cosy comfort food. West Londoners can rejoice, then, at the opening of The Waterman’s Arms.
Hearty steaks, chips, soda bread and fish stews were executed with a clear, admirable goal: to give the people what they want.
The new Barnes venture from Patty & Bun founder Joe Grossman, with a kitchen led by Sam Andrews (former head chef at The Camberwell Arms and Soho’s Ducksoup), takes the concept of ‘Pub?’ and elevates it to the nth degree. The drinks – from aperitifs to wine and beer – are a well-curated mix of standards, and the food is made up of seasonal small and large plates. A daily chalkboard of specials features market meat and fish, mostly designed for sharing.
It’s all served up in the newly-renovated site’s two inviting dining rooms, and the dishes are big-hearted and generous. You can order snacks and a pint, or linger over a four course meal – we see punters doing both when we make the trip on a chilly Thursday evening.
Whatever the reason for your visit, though, the service is invariably perceptive. This is the sort of place where you request a dirty Martini, and in response are asked whether you’d like that made with pickle juice – the answer, obviously, is ‘absolutely’). The flavours coming out of the kitchen follow suit: this is punchy, broad-shouldered food.
As you might expect from Sam Andrews’s cheffy pedigree, the heightened pub fare here was done marvellously. Hearty steaks, chips, soda bread and fish stews were executed with a clear, admirable goal: to give the people what they want. My rump steak was pink, with a layer of melting fat, a silver dish of chips came with loads of crispy little nubs, and the fish stew – made with mussels, cod and chubby chickpeas – was rich with salt and the sweetness of tomato.
So much gusto is a good thing, however it does occasionally mean subtler tastes feel overpowered. The mussels part of a mussels on toast, for example, was slightly stifled by a heavy romesco, while sardines were a little thickly battered, and a beautiful ball of mozzarella – so pure and white it came out of the kitchen looking like a scoop of vanilla ice cream perspiring on a hot day – was overly seasoned where it may have been best left to speak for itself.
What’s encouraging and extremely exciting, however, is that this isn’t the full story – there is delicacy and balance on ample display across this menu. Veg is treated with care – pumpkin with crispy sage and torched fontina cheese was an especial autumnal novelty – and the pasta (gnudi with walnuts and mushrooms) highly accomplished.
The standout of our visit, however, was one of the small plates: a piece of red mullet, cooked with the lightest of touches – it arrived at the table almost pearlescent on its underside – and served with supreme confidence; just the fish and an addictive bay oil on the plate. It tasted as arresting as it looked, and, as the parlance goes, was an absolute flex: clean, surprising cooking that this kitchen should embrace as much as possible.
If it’s the classics you’re after, though – in terms of food, drink and general atmosphere – there’s no doubt that The Waterman’s Arms does them beautifully. This is ‘Pub?’ at an elite level.
The vibe The Platonic ideal of a snug pub or if Sunday afternoons were a place.
The food Seasonally-led versions of pub classics, with some directional gems sprinkled in.
The drink A fairly concise but crowd-pleasing list of wines and beers alongside a few sleekly-done cocktails.
Time Out tip As is also the case at chef Sam Andrews’s alma mater The Camberwell Arms, no matter what you do, get a plate of the pasta to share.