Pubs are having a moment. “What are you talking about?” I hear you sigh. “I thought he was meant to know about what is happening with restaurants and hospitality. Are there not two pubs closing a day?”
Well, yes, OK. The facts do not lie. Pubs are going through a torrid time. The same can be said for all of hospitality at the moment. But I’m talking about what some of you may call a ‘gastropub’. I just refuse to use that word. It makes me think of the Nineties – square slate plates, a lamb shank swimming in gravy that’s formed a skin, and people who upend their bottle of Pinot Grigio in the ice bucket to signal it’s empty.
What I mean is this renaissance of pubs that not only act as a place to come for a quiet solo pint but also a place where you actually want to eat. Ideally one that’s right at the end of your street. It sometimes makes me question where I live as we still lack anything like this around the Barbican.
We all know the headlines: people are drinking less, it’s cheaper to stay at home with a good bottle of wine. But there is still very much a time and a place for a pub. They’re more than just a watering hole: they’re integral to local communities in today’s world of the dying high street, and are part of being British. A local pub should be something to everyone. The Latimer, from the Spiteri family, is a great example of that.
The Spiteris have more than 100 years of hospitality experience between them. If the name sounds familiar that’s because patriarch Jon, co-founder of St John, has worked across many of London’s best known dining rooms for the past 40 years. Jon’s former wife Melanie (Arnold) is one half of Rochelle Canteen. Their daughter Molly continues to work at Koya and their boys Fin and Lorcan really showcased their brilliance at Caravel, a restaurant on a barge in east London. They’ve now joined forces to open The Latimer in west London.
On the night I visit, one of those warm summer evenings in London, there’s a gaggle of young, good-looking west London types enjoying cold pints and glasses of rosé outside the front. Not the type you’d usually find in Notting Hill though: think rolly cigs instead of Marlboro Gold and parents that moved to Wiltshire but kept the flat in Kensal Green that’s now worth a fortune (the tax implications of selling up means it makes more sense for the kids to live there). I later learn the UCL campus is just across the way.
The Latimer is not a big space and is all on the ground floor. The front half is the pub with the second half designated as the dining room proper. Tables are simply set with one of those white paper tablecloths, proper white linen napkins and a single dinner candle that adds to the atmosphere. By 7pm every seat was taken. Locals enjoying a Thursday supper. A table of three catching up over plates of grilled asparagus with herb sauce and cider-braised pork belly skewers with apple. Both excellent. From the specials on a blackboard – curried mussels on toast, the bread, soft and spongelike from the sauce. That with a cold pint of The Latimer lager. They also serve a burger in the pub.
For mains, which very reasonably hover around the £30 mark, an onglet with pickled walnut and horseradish – a dish that made me think of Jeremy Lee – served with a generous bowl of some of the best chips I’ve eaten in a while. And lamp rump with peas, mint and anchovy, the fresh, salty salad cutting through the fattiness of lamb wonderfully.
Leaving the pub at the end of dinner, it was even busier outside than when we arrived. A neighbour was in the process of returning the Latimer-branded pint glass she’d taken home earlier in the day – even though she was tempted to perhaps get it filled up again. All ages enjoying their new local. I don’t know if the Spiteri family have plans to open more pubs. If they do, I hope they’ll come to the Barbican. I promise I’ll return my pint glass too.
WHERE 274 Latimer Road London W10 6QW
FOLLOW @the.latimer
BOOK thelatimer.co.uk
