The Prince Albert

Exquisite Fish & Chips, Legendary Service!

Venturing into the heart of Notting Hill, my recent dalliance with the convivial embrace of The Prince Albert proved quite the delight. Upon entering, this enchanting pub unfolded its rustic allure, rife with jolly locals and the promise of a splendid time, whether you're a frequenter or merely passing by on an aimless wander from the nearby Tube stop. The decor cocoons you in classic British charm, a dance of warm wood tones juxtaposed with the buzz of dim-lit footie enthusiasts clustered about numerous screens. It’s the scene of a quintessential English romp— all hailfish-and-chips allure, where the seafood arrives as gloriously crispy as the culinary legends foretold it would be. Max, a veritable star of the dining room stage, served up hospitality with a side dish of deft banter, ensuring that even amidst the chaos of peak-hours, our party felt both singularly seen and wholeheartedly appreciated.

Drinks, my dear reader! Such is the currency of joy within those cozy walls. With a seemingly endless roster of crafts by both cask and keg, each pint was a nod to the classic ethos of too many choices being just enough. Max's suggestions arena—a particularly standout act accompanied by the vigor of Mojitos and some ale recommendations—had us quirking an appreciative brow. True, occasional murmurs of long waits have echoed through the halls, not unlike ghost stories told on a school night, yet it seems geography has traded service blips for the stirring bouquet of atmosphere. Altogether, The Prince Albert dances the fine line between bustling cacophony and self-deprecating grit. I leave you, proper brews up and bellies glad, pondering when next to book a Saturday night escape into this wondrous enclave, where Max and Nima redefine the concept of a jolly good time. Deserved in every sense, a revisit sits at the forefront of my ever-growing London pub crawl itinerary. — Penelope Savory