The Electricity Showrooms, Hoxton

Those of us who are old enough to remember getting drunk in the nineties (which happened to be my friends and me on this particular evening) remember a very different Electricity Showrooms.

This bar is what it says on the tin - it is located in a refurbished showroom at where folks once shopped for toasters, Hoovers and the like. However the venue that we old-timers remember was rather different. All black leather furnishings and those ridiculously uncomfortable cubed seats. Nowadays it’s been reworked and re-branded, resulting in it looking like, well...a pub. In fact the Showrooms takes you back to a different nineties look popularised by the now legendary Eagle of Farringdon with its distressed leather sofas, wooden tables, and mix and match of school chairs - modern retro if you like. And all the better for it.

The crowd, despite being only half a stumbling mile away from the City of London, is Shoreditch/Hoxton cool - if that’s not an oxymoron nowadays. The Showrooms pulls the requisite crowd of designers, artists, and entrepreneurs split equally amongst men and women that tick all the requisite boxes in the 'my bar is fashionable' survey. It also does a pretty good range of top quality beers, wines and spirits but, as was firmly emphasised to me by one trendy young thing serving drinks, no cocktails. And apparently it also does darts and billiards and serves pie and mash. It’s almost like it's trying to be liked.

Which it really doesn’t need to, as with a pumping music mix, laid back ambiance, and some beautiful 20s and 30s fittings, the place is great. The Electricity Showrooms also makes a foray into the cheesy nightclub space, if the music emanating from the downstairs bar was anything to go by.

So this bar has something for everyone, which is obvious when you see how busy the place gets. 'Retro is dead' according to a car ad that is currently running. Perhaps, but the Showrooms prove that if you do it well it never goes away, although I’m not in any hurry for those cubed seats to make a comeback.

Giant Robot in Clerkenwell

For those of us brought up on a diet of 1950s Hollywood movies, the diner remains a powerful symbol of all things American. These shimmering stainless steel eating houses have made menu staples such as pancakes, French toast and grits, and bottomless cups of coffee as familiar to us as the traditional full English. By name at least.
Though London has recently become awash with diner-style eateries, there are not many as fresh as Giant Robot in Clerkenwell - the latest offering from the Rushmore Group, which brought us Milk & Honey, the Player, and the recently departed East Rooms.As you would expect from this team, Giant Robot is a good looking place. Dark brown dominates the interior from the oak floors to the diner style tables with leather booth seating, through to the exposed brickwork and rusted iron girders. This effect continues up to the ceiling itself, which is held together by an embossed sheet of cast iron. Restored radiators and antique light fixtures complete the effect. The kitchen and bar are distinguished by the white brick tiles, and colour is dropped in through the pastel yellow and blue plastic chairs, and the countless '50s and '60s fittings dotted around the place. Not exactly a diner in the traditional sense, but very easy on the eye.The staff are charming, attractive and plentiful. They literally fight over who gets to service you, which is good for those of us with status issues. They are a little too enthusiastic sometimes, as part-finished plates, and not quite empty glasses of wine had a habit of being cleared a too soon. They’ll learn.The food is an Italian take on tapas, which in reality means small portions of family favourites. Meatballs, pasta and sliders (meatballs in a bun) are on the menu, but the real star is the Giant Prawns, which were huge and apparently flavoursome. One for next time. It isn’t cheap, and some of the portions are a tad on the small side. Being served mains before starters was unusual, but not surprising given the organised chaos that the waiting team seemed to generate.The cocktails are strong and American super-sized - a dark rum-based punch and a whisky sour were the standouts on the night for us. The architects, graphic design and media crowd give the bar the cerebral, fashionable ambiance that we have come to expect from the Rushmore group, and music plays a support role to the alcohol-induced chatter that became shouting as the night rolled on.You won’t find the Happy Days experience at Giant Robot, but you will find a glamorous take on an American classic. And you may, just may be a little hung-over the next day.

Socio Rehab, Manchester

Anyone who says its grim up North has clearly not been to Manchester. Several decades of regeneration and reinvigoration inspired by the music, gay and student scenes respectively have, given it a social diversity and energy better then anywhere in the UK outside of London. And I don't mean that in a patronising way. But having been to Manchester many times in the last few years (to visit the Three Amigos - more of which later) both the Northerner and I have been struck at how much better and how many more top quality bars and pubs there are. Or perhaps that's because we're late in discovering them.

For our last few visits the Amigos have been taking us to Manchester's Northern Quarter - the 'creative quarter' of Manchester and home of many fashion designers, creative agencies, art galleries and quirky retailers. In this vibrant and lively part of the city, several blocks of former offices have been transformed into bars and restaurants as a sort of Hoxton of the North - and arguably much better.

Last weekend they introduced us to Socio Rehab - the reining champion of Manchester's cocktail bars and according to Amigo 1, home to some very good looking barman. On the corner of Edge and High street the bar's cool credentials are signaled early by the lack of signage. Large windows, low leather sofas and wooden flooring are offset by pastel blues and luscious purple walls. The places feels more advertising agency then bar, although any fears that you are in the wrong place are soon alleviated once you get a hold of the extensive cocktail menu.

No Long Island Ice Teas or Screaming Orgasms in this place. The cocktails are for people who know and enjoy a good drink. Amongst the ten or so that our crew consumed, the rum based David Banner and Big Hitters received top marks for the Amigos, as did another rum concoction - the Stingaree - and the vodka based Allo Poppet. Each a perfect combination of sweet and bitter flavours, and also seriously alcoholic. I took the unnecessary step of ordering a Midweek Roller which with its descriptor as being for the man who drinks during the week at the expense of his work and personal life seemed to sum me up in a glass. However the whisky, rum and vermouth based drink did more the hit the sides. One for the serious drinkers only.

The crowd are a mix of Manchester's hip and party crowd who manage to look fabulous but unlike their London counterparts don't take themselves too seriously. The music is a mix of modern indie, retro 80s and 90's rock, and a dash of dance, and for a small bar, the chat amongst the punters is loud. As all good Northern bars should be then. We didn't stay at this bar as long as I would have liked, as a dinner reservation needed to be honoured. However we did stay long enough to appreciate what a great little bar it is and mark it as a 'must visit again' for our next trip. Oh, and in case you were wondering, yes the bar men are very good looking.

The Book Club, Shoreditch

Has it really already been 10 years since Shoreditch shoved aside Notting Hill and Soho and established itself as the centre of London 'cool'?
For those of us old enough to remember those hedonistic days out east, venues such as Cantaloupe, Dragon, the Great Eastern Dining Room - and the wonderfully named Dreambagsandjaguarshoes - set the template for how great London bars could be. Amongst that illustrious crowd of drinking holes was Home, which for a time was the destination bar of choice for London’s beautiful and hip young things.Sadly Home has since moved to that great bar stool in the sky, but its spirit lives on in The Book Club, the stylish, more upmarket little sister of the Queen of Hoxton.TBC, as it likes to be known, is a statement to post-noughties design. Set over two spacious floors of a former Victorian warehouse, the upstairs features exposed brickwork interspersed with white brick tiling, held together by mix and match furnishings, mosaics and graphic light features. The long retro wooden trestle tables are adorned by the now-essential school chairs (which begs the question - what are London’s school children sitting on?).In keeping with its cool factor, the DJs use iBooks instead of vinyl (of course). And the people are stylish in that London way that most other cities can only dream of, with their effortless mix of vintage, high street and high couture. Books are littered liberally throughout the bar, but people don’t go to TBC to read. The place is vibrant and full of energy, and people to a fashion accessory are friendly, and when we visited, not in the slightest bit pretentious. The bar staff were fun and super-efficient, and it had that buzz that reflects the confidence of a place that knows it’s nailed it.Downstairs is more club than bar, and therefore more minimalist and grungy, but never in any sense dirty (something which some of TBC’s local rivals would do well to bear in mind).I’ve never understood the idea of getting together with a bunch of strangers to review books. Too Stepford Wives for me. However, TBC is somewhere I will happily revisit. Although I’m sure I’ll be having too much fun to read books.

The Pride of Spitalfields, Shoreditch

It’s funny how busy you can get doing the drinking thing. The sharp-eyed amongst you will have noticed that I’ve been moonlighting recently as an online bar reviewer for Here is the City News. This has required me to become more ‘professional’ in my approach and cut down on the character driven reviews on this site that millions of people have yet to see. I’ll let you judge how successful I have been.
Nevertheless my private drinking adventures continue, most recently at the Pride of Spitalfields where the Northerner and I were joined by Derby County and the Dane for an afternoon tipple.
The Pride is a pub that takes you back to a different time and place – jellied eels, barrow boys and a good old fashioned knees-up. This pub is Chas and Dave to the Ten Bells LCD Soundsystem or Shoreditch House’s Kasabian.
Apparently it’s a Fullers pub and this is reflected in the relatively standard offering of drinks where Corona is classified as an exotic lager, and wine is for the brave. Or those people with a less sophisticated palate. But before I climb to high on my pretentious Shoreditch bar white horse, I should add that the place is a nice little boozer. The two small front bars are cosy. The bar staff are very friendly and efficient, and the locals certainly more earthy then you normal Shoreditch drinking den. Oddly given its proximity to Brick Lane it’s not very multicultural. Nor would you mistake it in any way for being fashionable. Nevertheless if you want a cosy conversation over a pint or four, this is as good a place as any.
One final word. The first time I came here I was accosted by some old gent at the bar who took pleasure in telling me that the only people who drank there were ‘coppers or gays.’ As I eyed him wearily trying to work out what, if any category he could fit into he got to his point.
‘And you’re clearly not a copper.’ Who says London isn’t still full of characters.

Brew Wharf, Borough Market

It was not so long ago that any London pub which specialised in ales and bitters tended to be frequented by people of a more 'earthy' nature. Criminals, in other words.

However, on the back of a loose association with the organic movement, real ales have made inroads with the type of drinker who more recently would have been necking European lagers or champagne. Often at the same time.

One place trying to help ale make that leap from being socially acceptable in pubs to fashionable in bars is Brew Wharf in Borough Market.

Brew Wharf is the younger, more boisterous, and less sophisticated sibling of the wine shrine that is Vinopolis. Located in an old Victorian storehouse, this is a big drinking venue with an almost barn-like interior. Exposed brickwork, benches for tables, and stainless steel taps meld together to create the sort of place you might find in Northern Europe. This is probably not a coincidence, as according to the website, Brew Wharf takes its food inspiration from Alsatian food prepared with British ingredients sourced from Borough Market. (One assumes they mean the region rather then the breed of dog.)

However I doubt that the punters - mostly male, mid-thirties, suited and booted - come here for the food. Recognising the needs of its drinkers, Brew Wharf boasts its own microbrewery producing two real ales, and stocks a selection of beers from other breweries, most notable of which are from Meantime in Greenwich. But despite its pretensions (or are they aspirations?), Brew Wharf’s atmosphere is more beer festival then wine tasting. The staff on the night we visited seemed friendly, but harassed. They certainly were not in the mood for offering advice as to which beer might best suit our palates. The decision to allocate half of the available bar space to glass clearance and collection didn’t help, and the resulting scrum in the service section was not for the faint hearted.

Brew Wharf does have a spacious, yet sparse courtyard, which works a treat in the warm weather, and helps to de-clutter the inside bar of impatient City commuters. Yet while you can’t help but admire its ambitions, Brew Wharf has a way to go before it can measure up to its wine-imbibing big sister. Perhaps ales and bitters are best left to the pubs.

Shoreditch House Revisited (as featured in Here is the City News)

If there was a premier league of bars and clubs, then the mighty Soho House group would always be at - or near - the top.

In central London, the original Soho House has successfully usurped the Groucho Club as the media’s favourite watering hole, while out East, its younger sister private members' club, Shoreditch House reigns supreme as the bar destination of choice for the fashionable set.

Located in a former tea warehouse, Shoreditch House is a bigger, brasher version of its West End sibling. The club includes a bowling alley, games room and several private event rooms. However, it is the fifth and sixth floor bars, restaurants and roof terrace where 'the 'ditch' as it's affectionately known by its members, lives up to the hype. The rooftop includes bar, kitchen and lounge (complete with a glass roof that opens in the summer), along with a decked pool area and the most breathtaking views of the City that you can find in London. Down on the fifth floor there is the main dining area and two bars - one lounge style, the other nightclub - all filled to the brim with beautiful people.

With its open-plan, modern warehouse styling and glamorous clientele, you can be forgiven for thinking you're in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, rather than on Bethnal Green Road. Unlike Soho House, there aren't nooks and crannies in which you can hide away from prying eyes, but a night at the 'ditch is all about seeing and being seen. With a high celebrity and beauty count, the place oozes glamour - albeit in a flashy and occasionally overstated way.

But those who criticize the superficiality of the place (and there are plenty, judging by other bar review sites) miss the point, because Shoreditch House a great place to spend a night. It’s not cheap, but you shouldn’t break the bank, and it does have that special buzz that only comes when people feel they are lucky to be part of something. Enjoyment is high on everyone’s agenda, and people are friendly - even if they are mentally scoring and ranking you stylistically while you speak.