Simpsons Tavern

Ok, you just have to go, if you can find it that is and if you're not a veggie.

This is mans hangout, no doubt. "A city institution" it was described to me before I set foot in the door because of it's popularity with, and reputation for, city-boy clientele. Does this now make me a city-boy I wonder?

So, what should you expect? Meat and ale and fucking load of it at that. A full mixed grill of 10oz steak, sausages, bacon, a fried egg, kidney, grilled tomato, etc washed down with three pints of Bass and finished off with Simpsons trademark stewed cheese on toast; this is a sturdy luncheon for any working man.

Sitting in wooden stalls with other bankers and served by a man with a handlebar moustache. You get offered a fried egg and sausage with everything and the women call you darlin'. Samuel Pepys even wrote about this place in his diary, Charles Dickens was a regular and his great grandson still is nowadays. It's 250 years old and is brimming with heritage.

Needless to say the afternoon was a total write-off as my stomach felt like a turgid haggis and it took nearly 20 minutes to walk back to the office.

It comes as no shock to me why city boys in the 80s and 90s were all having heart attacks if they were eating and drinking like I did today, throw in a pack of cigarettes a day as well and I reckon I wouldn't make 30.