The White Horse Review

Best for: catching the street food craze.

Great: well-made cocktails in an understated environment.

“I don't think this is right. Nobody mentioned strippers.”

This strange story starts on an average Thursday evening in London as I scurry from work to après-work drinks through pre-Olympic madness and horrendous downpours.

Looking like the proverbial rain-sodden rat, I peak out from beneath my hood to glance once again at my printed instructions as they slowly turn to mush before my eyes.

“I think this is the place,” gestures my friend Geoff, as he points to the sign before us, a confused look upon his face. “Blush: table dancing venue”. Hmmmmm.

In the window a small note states that The White Horse bar is open downstairs. This must be the place.

Tentatively we step inside. We’re met by an underwear-clad woman explaining that if we want to stay we have to “put a pound in the pint”.

It’s worth noting that there must be a dozen bars called The White Horse in North London, and if you want to find the one without naked women, perhaps study the address a bit more carefully than we did.

So it’s back to the streets of Shoreditch for more frantic scurrying to find the pizza and cocktail haven we were originally promised.

Suddenly, my ballet pumps disappear from beneath my feet. I hear a sharp ‘thunk’ as my head hits the pavement.

Everything goes black.

When I awake the rain has stopped. The sun is shining, birds are singing and my head, which should be thumping from the collision, is pain free.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a White Horse, who disappears down a manhole. How odd.

My clothes are dry.

We have arrived at our destination.

Outside, with its simple white façade, this looks like an ordinary pub on an ordinary East End market street. But inside tells a different story.

Exposed brickwork, multi-coloured wood and old film posters adorn the walls, resulting in a décor that hovers somewhere between shabby and art chic, but, above all, much less pretentious, and much more laid-back than some of the other venues I’ve encountered in Shoreditch.

A list of cocktails is lovingly scribbled on a black board.

‘Drink me’ a voice whispers. I’m not a girl to ignore the voices in my head, so I approach the bar and order. Drinks are prepared professionally and swiftly.

The bar is busy but not over-crowded. People are happy, but not deliriously and obsequiously so. Not like the over-populated, overpriced cocktail haunts in Soho.

I take a sip of my Aperol Spritz. Perfect. It packs quite a punch.

I wander out to the back garden, past the retro pinball machine on which Geoff is playing, a pint of London Craft Brewery next to him. Punters – from trendy Shoreditch types to laid-back locals – are lazing around in deck chairs across the grass (which, on closer examination, is fake).

They chatter amongst themselves; they whisper of street food pop-ups, the craze currently sweeping London, and how they are often found in this very bar. They speak of artisanal hot dogs, Korean cuisine, Mexican food, of scallops. They tell of some of the finest stalls of London’s markets. But most of all they whisper about hamburgers. Oh the hamburgers! Come back and try a ‘Gang Bang’ or ‘The Hoochie’, I’m told. Curiouser and curiouser.

But not tonight; tonight we can order in stone baked pizzas, which will be delivered from across the road. Menus are scattered on the table. Try the Cavallo Bianco, someone mutters as they walk past. It’s that damn horse again.

My glass almost empty and feeling parched from pizza, I return for a top up.

On my way I happen upon a basement, the perfect party venue I’m told; where film clubs are hosted, screening everything from high-brow French cinema to cheesy chick flicks. I sip on my mojito.

Again it’s spot on. It surprises me very little to learn that Happiness Forgets, the much-lauded cocktail bar in Hoxton Square, is, in fact, the sister bar to The White Horse because it is an understated haven for cocktail fans; and beer aficionados, for that matter. And food buffs. Film buffs. Fans of pub quizzes, listening clubs and scrabble competitions. Sports fanatics can even enjoy sports; Olympics included.

Surely such a diverse place can’t exist. Or can it?

I wake in bed. My head hurts. It feels more like the sting of alcohol than a hard hit. My memory is blurry of the night’s events, but in my pocket I find a business card with only a white horse’s head on it.
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Sophie Marie Atkinson 01 Aug 2012

Customer Reviews for The White Horse

Average (based on 1 votes): 1 Atmosphere: Value: Quality:

The following customer reviews are not endorsed by Fluid London and are simply those of users who wish to publish their independent experiences of The White Horse.

“great little party spot and had pinball to keep the boys happy!”
Atmosphere: Value: Quality:
Lucy, Hackney (1 years 3 months 18 days ago)

Additional Information

• Cuisine Type: Pub
• Average Price: ££10
• Dress Code: Casual
• Website: Visit the The White Horse website
• Group: (Independent/Freehouse)