The Mad Bishop & Bear

£8 - £20 / British, Vegetarian options

1st Floor, Paddington Station, London

Opening hours

8AM-10:30PM

Sunday 9AM-9PM
Monday 8AM-10PM
Tuesday 8AM-10PM
Wednesday 8AM-10PM
Thursday 8AM-10:30PM
Friday 8AM-10:30PM
Saturday 8AM-10:30PM

Hidden Gem for Comfort in Paddington

Ah, The Mad Bishop & Bear! A curious, fleshy marvel sequestered above the rumble of Paddington Station. My recent foray into this invitingly hidden Fuller's establishment can be likened to discovering a secret compartment in the staggering monument that is London's rail network—a rather congenial retreat from the chaos below. Space abounds here, in direct defiance of expected station pub protocol which usually constitutes a hurried elbow dance through hordes of travellers. No, here the ambience is positively cavernous; it feels rustic yet refined, as if it was once a set piece misappropriated from a Thomas Hardy adaptation. It's laden with stable wooden furnishings and quirky staff, occasionally exemplified by charming nuisances like the elusive manager or the unexpectedly social bartender dispensing genuine London Pride fingertips.

Service is delightfully robust—as much an emotional support stimulus as it is an efficient cog at your table-side operations—the staff eagerly assisting in unloading existential travel malaise, one pint at a time. The culinary aspect fares well in most regards, provided you're not chasing Michelin stars. Staples such as fish and chips delivered with batter precisely the golden hue that alludes to artisanal mastery, while steak pie quite compensates lagging escalators and predictable tourist traffic itself staunchly avoided. Albeit, tread carefully around notorious breakfast attempts—these ventures have been whimsically scrutinised for elevating humble eggs to gilded icons of fiscal exuberance. Consider too their implicit contribution to England's Bizarro universe: brewer iterations effective enough to mason-jaw the essence of marmalade. Yet what befits a true critique? Possibly confronting lavatories in sinusoidal fits—and rightly enduring it for proper introspection of concealed inexistence within rooftop domains. Undoubtedly though, The Mad Bishop manages intrigue with trite aplomb—a perfect interlude in an eager traveller's journey. — Penelope Savory