Czech your drinking - The Luxe, Spitalfields Market

There are big nights and then there are ridiculously big nights. On what was my second visit in as many weeks to The Luxe in Spitalfields we'd gathered together a crew of occasional and frequent imbibers to celebrate all things Friday.

John Torode's - as in Smiths of Smithfields and occasionally MasterChef - latest bar has copped more then its fair share of criticism much of which is hard to understand. For a start its a very beautiful venue with a birdcage type exterior enhanced by high windows and funky, modern furniture. The Luxe's design is very much in keeping with the original Spitalfield's market albeit successfully updated for the noughties.

Second the service, whether at your table or the bar is slick and charming - there's not too much waiting around at this place. And finally it has a buzz reminiscent of when Smiths of Smithfield's first opened. It's not by any means hip, but it successfully strikes the balance for those city workers and wannabe hipsters for whom the other pubs in Commercial Street and Brick Lane are a little too grubby.

The first time I visited the Luxe was on a Monday night on which it had enough of a crowd and ambiance to justify drinking on the earliest school night. By the second visit we were at full-on Friday mode, with birthday parties, party girls and boys, and us - the occasionally motley drinking crew that included such luminaries as the Northerner, Lady Devon, Young Elvis, the Engineer, the Caister Boy, Betty Boo and the Architect and the Senorita to name but a few - meant I was never going to get off lightly.

And that turned out to be the case as, instead of stopping at three to four of the 6% Czech beers, Young Elvis and I powered through what must have been a dozen or so, and behaved accordingly. The Northerner wasn't best pleased. After all, she'd only had five caipirinhas.

Finally I called time, probably not a moment to soon, stumbling off into the night, and leaving the pretty young things to have some fun. Nevertheless I do think the Luxe is a very good addition to the Smithfield's portfolio and a welcome alternative to the awful banker bars of Bishopsgate. Not that you want too many more bankers there. Nor, if you take into account how I felt the next day, do you want to overdo the Czech beers. Don't say you haven't been warned.

East is Best

Nothing cuts through class barriers quite so effortlessly in London as the local pub. Around Spitalfields where I frequent, are a fine collection of old boozers where fashion designers and creatives, newly poor bankers and original East Enders all get merrily drunk together with that Dunkirk spirit that is unique to the British. This is not a London that fans of Richard Curtis movies would recognise and is probably all the better for that.

The Northerner was out with some of the fashion set on a pub crawl of Gay Soho, so the call went out and Heavy D (formerly Big D, lest you were wondering), the Caister boy, the Engineer and yours truly all descended upon the Golden Heart on Commercial Street. The Golden Heart effortlessly mixes together old East End locals, with the creative and financial services set that have encroached on its territory, and manages it all with aplomb. An old fashioned jukebox and a steady flow of beers saw the crew singing along heartily to Rod Stewart's greatest hits - something I feel we managed very well, although I don't think the collection of French designers sat next to us thought so. And people say the French have sophisticated tastes.

From there we stumbled up Brick Lane, with the obligatory stop at the legendary Brick Lane Beigel before finishing the night at the Shoreditch version of Beach Blanket Babylon. This place gets some bad press and I'm not quite sure why. The place is more Peaches Geldof then Alexis Chung, and there's an awful lot of Class A action going on in there which I guess isn't everyones thing. However Heavy D certainly appreciated the pretty young things bouncing around the place and a great DJ throwing some good tunes down , accompanied by a steady flow of cocktails kept the crew entertained for several hours of mayhem.

One final point. I'm not sure that the crew's 'undercover polic chic' style suited the vibe of the place. Or any place for that matter. I am very sure it won't catch on. Next week we'll try the estate agent look.