The Anchor and Hope

One of the joys of the internet, my dears, is the fascinating people you meet.

It will surprise no one to learn that when I first encountered my dear Julian, my sister feared he was one of the ravening axe murderers she had read so much about, and pressed me to change my will to leave my worldly belongings to her.

Alas, what little I own is so deep in hock that it would benefit her little – my soul goes to whichever god can find it, and my goods return to the moneylenders.

In the meantime, I spend what I have on good food and good drink in good company, and it is not a bad way to live.

Such an evening took place last week in the company of the ever-loyal Mr Green, darling Julian, and a new friend. For the sake of internet anonymity, we shall dub her Captain Canada.

Now, Cap is a wonderful woman – erudite, interesting, and well travelled – and was passing through London on her way from the Continent back to Canada. Would, she asked me, I like to meet up for a convivial evening of food, conversation, and the latest Captain America film?

Well, I could hardly say no, could I?

I managed to get opening night tickets to the film at the BFI Imax on the South Bank, and then the only question was where to eat. The answer presented itself almost immediately. I’ve wanted to eat at the Anchor and Hope since I first staggered in on a Sunday morning and they eased the pain of existence with Bloody Marys, Marmalade Martinis, and crab on toast.

Sadly, they don’t allow tables to be booked in advance, but meetings at my place of business allowed me to get there for five, so we managed to secure a table when the dining room opened at six.

Now, should you go there, it’s useful to know that the dining room is quieter than the bar – you can hear your companions talk, and it’s all the better for it. We got to know each other over starters of snail and bacon salad, kid’s kidneys on toast (the baby goat kind – not the stolen organs of some young urchin), green salad, and risotto which is one of the best ways to get to know anyone, and most useful when you’ve chosen mains to share.

We’d gone for a Longhorn Steak Pie and Seven Hour Swandale Lamb, which provided an immense amount of delicious food. From the golden pie crust, propped up with a piece of marrow bone, to the buttery cabbage; from the meltingly soft stewed lamb’s neck to the creamy dauphinoise it was delicious. Julian described it as home cooking done really, really well, and that was a good way to sum it up.

We weren’t able to finish everything, and they packed up the remainder of the lamb for us in a bucket that seemed hilarious at the time, while we shared a brown sugar meringue with the best whipped cream I’ve had in a long while and sipped at damson gin.

It came to £148 before service, which was so shockingly low I had to check they’d included the pre-dinner drinks and the bottle of wine. They had. I was impressed.

From thence we went to the Imax, and anyone who describes a group matching our description pouring cocktails into a water bottle to smuggle in is wholly mistaken. Ours was a relaxed Wednesday evening of good food and fine superheroes, and any dip in global productivity the following morning? Utterly coincidental, my dears.

The Anchor and Hope, 36 The Cut, Waterloo, London, SE1 8LP, 020 7928 9898