En route to the recently revamped The Baring in Islington, I wondered if we need a newer, better word for “gastropub”, not least because nobody ever liked that word anyway. In the noughties, it was synonymous with the vanishing of old-fashioned, often cherished things: printed menus, affordable burgers, sticky carpets and packets of Big D peanuts glued to a card behind the bar that, with every purchase, revealed more of a near-naked woman called Bev. None of them survived the great gastropub purge. That said, if you liked poussin, wild rocket, blackboards, Farrow & Ball paint, côtes du rhône and eating on 1950s crockery while sitting on a very stiff, hardbacked chair, this was a golden age.
In the UK in 2022, however, almost all new pub ventures are “gastro” to some extent, with the chef’s name and CV being announced at the same time, and with the same weighting, as the landlord’s. All these gastropubs are not the same, though, and many are just chain pubs in disguise and with a good microwave. The Baring, however, is an exceedingly good restaurant that serves the likes of quail shish, and pig’s cheek and smoked eel terrine, and has taken root inside an old, previously loved building. The chef is Rob Tecwyn, formerly of Dabbous, which was a cool, Fitzrovia restaurant revered at the highest level by the food crowd. “Shall we go to Dabbous on Saturday?” someone would suggest on a Wednesday circa 2015, and I’d collapse in peals of mirth because the place was booked solid for the next 20 weeks at least. Tecwyn has also cooked at a number of dependably brilliant restaurants where I often send people asking for advice: the Bull & Last in Highgate, Moro, Morito and Kerridge’s Bar & Grill to name a few.
