The Candlemaker

Bessie's Service Shines, Breakfast Divine!

Stepping into The Candlemaker feels akin to entering a theatrical tableau – where the music of Babel hums around you, yet clearer and more harmonious thanks to the singular symphony director, Bessie. One would think pub fare to limit itself to impulse-induced chips or formulaic fish, yet the menu here pleasantly subverts these expectations. The sole, an unexpected star of the dinner plate constellation, sings with delicacy while the banana eggy bread at brunch transposes typical English mornings to nirvana-esque delights. It rather pains me to owe the dizzying ascent of my cocktail's flavor journey not entirely to the mixologists’ craft, but also to Bessie's sly engagée server prowess – so genuinely magnetic that even the barmen seem anchored to it.

Our spirits sans doubt were as consistently recharged by the incandescent welcome of smiles crafted by Bessie, Olga vying for co-star in this cast of exceptional hospitables. This cocktail of service delights unfurled through seamless grace as the right drink recommendations uncovered hidden layers of sophistication in what might otherwise have passed as usual breathy Anglo fare. Such envelopment in passion masks rising price thresholds, framing instead the investment within this pub—a sanctuary draped indulgently under atmospheric wooden beams incensed by candlelight worthy of its namesake. It's true; the canvas of ambience painted here is disturbed only faintly by the specter of rival pubs grappling desperately for relevance. The candlestick flickers on optimistically in Bessie’s realm of confectioned experience. — Penelope Savory