Last Updated on August 14, 2024
A Home from Home and Gastropub that Stands the Test of Time.
I moved to London almost straight after finishing University in the early 1980s. I’d love to say that I visited the Anchor and Hope at that time, but the truth is it wasn’t for another fifteen years or so that it opened and I first made it there. From memory, you couldn’t reserve a table except at the weekend and, although it’s right by the Bankside theatres (Old and Young Vic), that meant we’d end up somewhere else for pre-theatre dining. It was a rare find – a gastropub in the truest sense, with unpretentious well-cooked dishes and there were always queues.
Some ten years later I booked a table for Sunday lunch for visiting friends from Australia. I remember the look of horror on my brother’s face when his starter, a Cromer crab, arrived shell on, ready for picking with a wealth of medieval-looking implements to help. I’ve been back many times since hoping to trap an unsuspecting friend into ordering what proved to be a real feat of engineering to eat, but I have never seen it on the menu again. Now I live within healthy walking distance of the Anchor and Hope it’s a convenient place to meet up with friends – and you can reserve a table online too, even specifying indoors or outdoors. Despite my affection for the place, I’ve kept forgetting to write a bit about it. Time to put that right I think, though I’d rather not TOO many people discover it.
Sitting outside it was only right and proper to start the evening with an Aperol spritz each while we checked out the menu. My companion wanted bread, which she’d remember from our previous visit. Listed as Little Bread Pedlar sourdough and good French butter, it’s a generous and wholesome portion of properly flavoured sourdough that despite my intentions to avoid the carbs, was just far too tempting.
We shared a portion of delicious potted shrimps, a heaped mound of tiny brown shellfish in butter, with more of that sourdough, toasted this time and with a creamy cucumber salad dressed in (I think) yoghurt. An ostensibly expensive option on the menu at £15.80, there was plenty for both of us making it a sensible choice.
To match our rather eclectic selection of food we picked a bottle of Vé, Méditerranée, 2022, from France for £38 a bottle – the wine list is London pub rather than restaurant prices and this was an excellent choice with enough body to stand up to the duck without overwhelming the fish or shrimps.
We’ve enjoyed the Anchor and Hope pie on previous occasions and if you are looking for a filling and very ‘British’ dish, I can recommend whatever pie they are serving to share between two or even three of you. The seven-hour lamb shoulder to share also looked really tempting, but as I was cooking my own lamb dish later that week, we picked our own mains
For my main course, a south coast fish and shellfish stew with saffron potatoes, Comtè and aioli croutes. There were a handful of mussels, some white fish and a whole red gurnard in the beautifully flavoured saffron broth, delicious morsels of potato and a bouillabaisse style croute and aioli adding richness to the dish.
My companion’s baked duck, fennel and ceps with Jorge’s cotechino and French-style peas was another casserole-style dish. A generous portion of meltingly tender duck leg confit in a robust base with the cotechino and ceps bringing an almost autumnal note to the mix.
By dessert (which neither of us really needed), we’d given up trying to pick different options from the menu. That might just have been because both of us craved the Mirabelle and almond tart with clotted cream. We could have shared, but I’m oh so glad we didn’t!
This is a warm and welcoming place where I really feel as if I am going home. I’ve never experienced bad service, even though the place is often really busy. And, the food is just delicious in that unfussy way that’s perfect when you want to catch up with friends. So, if you are looking for deliciousness without the faff, do give it a try.
The Anchor and Hope
