Some places just have that certain something. The French have a phrase for it: ‘zat certain sumsing!’ Quirky spots you stumble upon and tell stories about. Lesser known marvels like bonkers bars, rickety restaurants or curious museums where the curator’s cats run wild. It’s not about price or prestige, no, no. It’s all charm and character. Places with personality. That’s a GLP, my friend. Come in and explore, then go out and explore.
Wetherspoon’s this is not. Jerusalem Tavern was built on England’s green and pleasant land, ages ago. 1720 to be precise (although, for the history police, the present pub has only been open since 1996). It’s full of creaky crooks and crannies with an outstanding array of real ales on tap.
Not really enough room to swing a cocker spaniel but that’s ok because the crowd spills out onto the street outside. The beer on offer is from St Peter's Brewery in Suffolk, served from several small wooden casks stationed behind the bar. From fruity ones to organic ones, though sadly they don’t count as your 5-a-day. On that subject, the food is very simple, hearty and gastro.
From the firkins to the fireplace, this place is as a pub should be. Wooden tables. Wooden floors. Real ale. No music. And no TV. Ripe for real conversations and setting the world to right.
Now, bring me my pint of burning gold.
Thanks for the tip off: Andrew Gough and Jenny Rose.
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Without doubt, the quality of beer on draught here is top-drawer and that's fortunate as it helps make up for the pokey layout and cramped quarters. An abbreviated menu is served at lunch but it takes second-billing to the beer which is fine for the largely post-work crowd who jostle on the pavement outside. At its best in the summer and closed on weekends, the Jerusalem is recommended through steel yourself for a (refreshingly) spartan affair -- a lush London gastropub this is not.
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