Nothing about Soho makes sense, and nor should it. This is a place where the city’s seediest establishments rub shoulders with the most upmarket, a place that’s steeped in history but never stands still. And so to the French House, a beloved boozer named after – checks notes – a Belgian man. That man, Victor Berlemont, took the reins in 1914 and, as a haven for writers and artists such as Francis Bacon, the pub has absorbed many legends since then (yes, Dylan Thomas left the manuscript of Under Milk Wood here after one too many). Up an unassuming flight of stairs, you’ll also find a small (just 12 covers), understated but high-quality restaurant serving French and British fare such as glossy steak tartare and deliriously creamy panna cotta with crunchy, crumbly shortbread. You wouldn’t necessarily expect to discover such refinement above a pub – but that’s Soho for you.
What’s nearby?
Totter on to the similarly legendary Coach and Horses for a quintessential London night.
Time Out tip
Call it ‘the French’ so everyone knows you’re Soho through-and-through.
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