The Black Prince

Best Pork Belly: London's Unsurpassed Sunday Roast

Oh, The Trad Pub – an utterly delightful nook of self-awareness nestled somewhere between cinematic folk tales and genuine British hospitality. It turns out that some places thrive gloriously on the edge of stereotype, offering a comedic take on the age-old gastro argument. Fancy a pint costing an arm and a pork belly accompanied by borderline mythical crackling? Well, pull up a chair—a stool if you dare venture past peak hours—and find joy in fare served with the finest drizzle of irony. For those entering like wide-eyed movie tourists seeking resemblance to grand Hollywood inspirations, let's just say reality here seems refreshingly shy. The pub graces its fame as a filming location for 'Kingsman' but cleverly remains soberly entrenched in keen, cosy consistency rather than gaudy set reprisation.

Make no mistake, the Sunday roast here is a veritable darling of the gastronomes—humble foods elevated through equal parts tradition and expert attention to detail. While you relax against plush velvet benches that time simply forgot to refurbish, friendly pre-war gentility is executed by consummate hosts whose calibre transforms mundane dining into unforgettable culinary theatre. Be wary not to mistake excitement or rowdiness once seated, because that's the ambient foot-tapping encouragement of a big screen airing the day's life-or-death football bonanza—a cacophony of cheering voices politely excusing its intrusion over your meditative bite of fish and chips. Perhaps the world’s tastiest respite lives just beyond this imaginary lens flare, where nostalgia mingles agreeably with modern palettes, reopening allegations that despite London's realm of hyperbolic distractions, honest charm is a dish best savoured quietly. — Penelope Savory