“AI is all very well. But would it stay out much later than intended to drink too much and come in feeling like rubbish?”

To my surprise I pretty quickly got a response from a distinguished Financial Times journalist in New York (this was in the halcyon days of broad, civilised and civilising Twitter interactions). He said:

“Well, interestingly enough it probably could. To find out more, you should read Superintelligence by Nick Bostrom.”

Now I’ve spent much of that last 12 years having devoured the book, recommending widely that people read it as it gives an incredible insight into the path towards the development of what he calls AGI or Artificial General Intelligence. The ‘General’ is added to represent artificial intelligence that has a sense of self, distinct identity, and the ability to perform tasks and address issues and concepts that it has not specifically been trained for or designed to achieve. He also has an awful lot to say about the dangers of different pathways by which we might create an AGI or one may come into being. Nick Bostrom is a professor of Philosophy, Physics and Neuroscience at some of the world’s most renowned universities. In other word he is a polymath operating at the highest possible level across multiple academic disciplines. (If you read up about him you might find he has drifted towards a eugenicist tendency in part informed by his theorising about concentrated breeding to generate a ‘better’ genetic outcome for humankind – something I definitely don’t embrace.)

I have also widely recommended the Culture novels of Ian M Banks as a helpful and thought provoking as well as entertaining resource on the development and moral and spiritual implications of AGI. In the books the ‘Culture’ is the post-scarcity society that spans the stars and is essentially run by a myriad of artificial intelligences living within everything from small pieces of lethal ‘tech’ to myriad spaceships and enormous alternative habitats built in wide rings around stars. In the worlds created by Banks, the artificial intelligence is definitely AGI. With personalities which can be benevolent, pretty much all seeing and deeply deviant. The artificial intelligence in the Culture books would certainly stay out too late, drink too much, and in some cases do extremely reckless and morally dubious things. I can’t recommend those books enough.

Interestingly in the Culture novels one of the great challenges facing humankind and other aliens is how to live an interesting and defined personal life in the absence of need, mortality, any real peril or proper jobs. One of the things that I always loved was that some people choose to work as volunteers in cafes and restaurants, clearing tables as a way of giving their life meaning. Of course, that validates the choices that I’ve made keeping myself occupied in a way that is morally acceptable and spiritually nutritious. But I hadn’t really thought very much about how AI would affect our industry detrimentally here and now on earth.

I did get called recently by someone who said they were doing a survey for the government on the importance and impact of AI across different industries including hospitality. I don’t think I have any use for AI or the impacts our business, I said. So I don’t think it’s a good use of your time. Such is the nature of such calls, however, that they said they would still be very interested in my views. For about 20 to 30 minutes, I answered ‘no’ to a series of questions about whether I thought AI would impact the efficiency of our business, the marketing of our business, the choices we made and so forth. And I genuinely don’t see any role in our business as we run it, a single site where we all know each other and make decisions around the table.

Recently, however, having a conversation over lunch with an industry colleague talking about new openings, good and disappointing wine lists and similar I was struck by a thunderbolt. What would happen if somebody asked an AI to help them design their product offering in a way that would fill a gap, copy the best of best practise in other restaurants and construct an offering that would be compelling and profitable. Specifically, what would happen if somebody tried to copy our wine offering and get an AI to write their wine list?

Here’s the question then, that I asked ChatGPT:

“Can you please? Write me a wine list like the one for the Drapers Arms in Islington. Which is on their website. Focused on Old World with a mix of the best traditional regions and low intervention wines with a similar pricing structure and a capped per bottle markup.”

And here is the response…. which took moments:

Absolutely. I’ve looked at the current The Drapers Arms list rather than just approximating the style. Their current list is around 410 bottles, with a very strong Bordeaux/Burgundy backbone but plenty of Loire, Rhône, Spain, Italy and natural/low-intervention producers. Their entry point is around £29–30, and the list is notably generous in the £40–£80 range.

The important thing I’d copy isn’t the individual wines, but the philosophy: recognisable classical regions, lots of genuinely interesting growers, a few slightly left-field bottles, and prices that encourage people to trade up rather than making the £50 bottle feel like a luxury purchase. The Drapers Arms themselves describe their selection as authentic regional wines, with an emphasis historically on individuality rather than generic fruit driven wines.

I’ve drafted the following on the basis of a capped gross markup, rather than a conventional percentage markup. For example, I’d suggest roughly:

Cost £8–£15 → sell around £29–£35

Cost £15–£25 → sell around £38–£48

Cost £25–£40 → sell around £50–£65

Cost £40–£60 → sell around £70–£85

Cost £60–£100 → sell around £90–£120

Above £100 → increasingly close to cost + a fixed £25–£35

That gives you a deliberately compressed margin at the top end. The exact bottle prices below are therefore proposed selling prices, not claims about current trade costs. You’d want to substitute your actual ex-VAT landed costs before finalising the commercial model.

I will of course put the full list from them at the bottom of this post. However what’s mildly distressing and interesting to see is that this is indeed quite a compelling list which does a fair job of replicating our list in principle. It would certainly be a very good starting point for writing a list that would sit well with pretty much any enthusiastic wine list reader or someone opening a new restaurant or indeed looking to up their game. It could help a restaurant attract more people with a desire to drink and eat well whilst not being too transparent a copy.

Noticeably, however there is almost no reference to vintage. One of the key aspects of the list that I have written over the years is a desire rather than buying and immediately releasing the very latest vintages offered by our wine suppliers to instead seek out older, more appropriately aged wines. And I also to buy and store over many years wines that I think will benefit from time in bottle. ChatGPT seems to have missed that nuance which for me is a vital distinguishing aspect of the Drapers list.

They have also inserted spurious commentary (the worst being on the separate low intervention section) and a pointless ‘something special’ section both of which are anathema to me and show….. signs of ego in the writer! An interesting wrinkle coming from a machine learning system..

You won’t have to have taken much interest in AI to know that amongst the most legitimate concerns are those of the creative communities; both writers, singers, songwriters, artists, actors and film makers. Their original artistic content is increasingly being replicated, copied and substituted for by the easy use of AI. Is creating a distinct personal passion project hospitality business a comparable act of artistic endeavour? In a world of cheap cookie cutter businesses is there sufficient demand from discerning consumers to prevent those artistic endeavours from struggling to compete?

The questions then for me remain. Should I use AI to assist me as a tool? Is there a danger it could replicate hard work, knowledge, application and time spent? Might competitors be able to compete with, substitute and replace us for our customers without the creative, personal aspect of enthusiasm, knowledge and passion?

From my very personal point of view the team I work with at the Drapers Arms has become so strong from both a managerial, professional and hard working perspective that if I was no longer running the wine list, all I would be left with would be paying bills and salaries. Stuck on my laptop for a few hours a week with little else to do. I won’t be doing that because I love doing the work. On balance it does look to me as if what I thought was a creative and artistic endeavour, and a very deeply personal one could indeed be at risk from a substitute artificial wine list writer. Available at the click of a button. So below is the wine list that ChatGPT suggested.

I would say their pricing is extremely challenging to achieve. You won’t see this list anywhere near the Drapers Arms – I have already bought much of the wine I need for the next ten years. But there is a dent in my complacency. I’m not a big user of AI and I don’t imagine becoming one anytime soon. But I think I might need a steadying glass. And I guess that too is one of the potential benefits of AI. There’s no danger of ChatGPT, I don’t think as yet, needing to relentlessly taste extensively around the list in order to make sure that it’s drinking well. And there’s no chance of it staying out too late and calling in sick with a hangover…. Or is there? Cheers. (written without AI!)

WINE

Old World classics, small growers & wines with a sense of place.

SPARKLING

Champagne

Champagne Brut, Pierre Peters — Blanc de Blancs, Champagne
£72

Brut Réserve, Bérêche & Fils — Champagne
£78

Extra Brut, Laherte Frères — Champagne
£82

Brut Nature, Tarlant — Champagne
£88

Blanc de Blancs, Agrapart — Avize, Champagne
£110

Crémant, Pet-Nat & Friends

Crémant de Loire, Domaine de Montgilet — Loire
£38

Crémant de Bourgogne, Domaine de la Verpaille — Burgundy
£42

Pet-Nat Blanc, Domaine de la Taille aux Loups — Loire
£44

Lambrusco di Sorbara, Paltrinieri — Emilia-Romagna
£39

WHITE

FRANCE

Loire

Muscadet Sèvre-et-Maine, Domaine de la Pépière
£39

Vouvray Sec, Domaine Huet
£55

Sancerre, Domaine Vacheron
£72

Pouilly-Fumé, Domaine de Belargus
£62

Sauvignon Blanc, Domaine du Nozay — Sancerre
£58

Burgundy

Mâcon-Villages, Domaine de la Souffrandise
£42

Bourgogne Blanc, Domaine de la Cras
£55

Saint-Véran, Domaine de la Croix Senaillet
£52

Rully, Domaine de Villaine
£68

Chablis, Domaine Alice & Olivier de Moor
£72

Meursault, Domaine de Montille
£105

Puligny-Montrachet, Domaine Leflaive
£145

Rhône

Côtes du Rhône Blanc, Domaine de la Janasse
£42

Viognier, Yves Cuilleron — Rhône
£48

Saint-Joseph Blanc, Domaine André Perret
£68

Hermitage Blanc, Domaine Jean-Louis Chave
£175

Jura & Savoie

Chardonnay, Domaine de la Pinte — Jura
£58

Savagnin, Domaine Macle — Jura
£68

Chardonnay ‘Patchwork’, Domaine Tissot — Jura
£75

Apremont, Domaine Giachino — Savoie
£44

ITALY

Roero Arneis, Bruno Giacosa — Piedmont
£48

Gavi, La Giustiniana — Piedmont
£42

Timorasso, Massa — Piedmont
£58

Soave Classico, Pieropan — Veneto
£45

Verdicchio Classico, Bucci — Marche
£48

Fiano di Avellino, Pietracupa — Campania
£52

Etna Bianco, Graci — Sicily
£58

Carricante, Benanti — Etna
£62

Friulano, Miani — Friuli
£70

SPAIN & PORTUGAL

Albariño, Do Ferreiro — Rías Baixas
£55

Godello, Gaba do Xil — Valdeorras
£45

Viura, Remelluri — Rioja
£55

Palomino, Bodegas Barbadillo — Sanlúcar
£42

Manzanilla, La Cigarrera — Sanlúcar
£38

Txakoli, Ameztoi — Getariako Txakolina
£44

Godello ‘As Sortes’, Rafael Palacios — Valdeorras
£92

AUSTRIA & GERMANY

Grüner Veltliner, Alzinger — Wachau
£48

Grüner Veltliner Federspiel, Prager — Wachau
£55

Riesling Trocken, Dönnhoff — Nahe
£52

Riesling Kabinett, Julian Haart — Mosel
£58

Riesling GG, Georg Breuer — Rheingau
£72

ROSÉ

Côtes de Provence, Domaine Tempier
£58

Bandol Rosé, Château Pradeaux
£52

Tavel, Domaine de la Mordorée — Rhône
£48

Rosato, COS — Sicily
£45

RED

FRANCE

Burgundy & Beaujolais

Bourgogne Rouge, Domaine Chavy-Chouet
£58

Bourgogne Rouge, Domaine de la Cras
£65

Fleurie, Yvon Métras
£82

Morgon, Jean Foillard
£58

Morgon ‘Côte du Py’, Jean Foillard
£72

Moulin-à-Vent, Domaine des Terres Dorées
£52

Gevrey-Chambertin, Domaine Arlaud
£105

Nuits-Saint-Georges, Domaine Gouges
£120

Volnay, Domaine de Montille
£125

Gevrey-Chambertin, Domaine Fourrier
£145

Loire

Gamay, Domaine de la Grange Saint-Martin
£42

Saumur-Champigny, Domaine des Roches Neuves
£58

Saumur-Champigny ‘Clos de l’Echelier’, Roches Neuves
£82

Cabernet Franc, Domaine de Pallus — Chinon
£52

Rhône

Côtes du Rhône, Domaine de la Janasse
£40

Côtes du Rhône, Franck Balthazar
£46

Crozes-Hermitage, Yann Chave
£58

Saint-Joseph, Domaine André Perret
£68

Cornas, Vincent Paris
£82

Gigondas, Domaine Santa Duc
£68

Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Domaine de la Janasse
£78

Côte-Rôtie, Domaine Jamet
£145

BORDEAUX

Bordeaux Supérieur, Château Le Puy
£48

Castillon Côtes de Bordeaux, Château d’Aiguilhe
£52

Saint-Émilion Grand Cru, Château Fonroque
£68

Haut-Médoc, Château Sociando-Mallet
£78

Saint-Julien, Château Gloria
£95

Pauillac, Château Batailley
£105

Saint-Estèphe, Château Calon-Ségur
£125

Pessac-Léognan, Domaine de Chevalier
£135

Margaux, Château Brane-Cantenac
£150

Pauillac, Château Pontet-Canet
£175

ITALY

Piedmont

Dolcetto d’Alba, G.D. Vajra
£44

Barbera d’Alba, Roagna
£62

Langhe Nebbiolo, G.D. Vajra
£55

Langhe Nebbiolo, Giuseppe Rinaldi
£78

Barolo, Ferdinando Principiano
£88

Barolo ‘Cannubi’, Chiara Boschis
£110

Barbaresco, Produttori del Barbaresco
£72

Tuscany

Chianti Classico, Fontodi
£58

Chianti Classico Riserva, Isole e Olena
£78

Rosso di Montalcino, Salvioni
£68

Brunello di Montalcino, Il Paradiso di Manfredi
£125

Bolgheri Rosso, Le Difese
£68

Elsewhere

Valpolicella Classico, Monte dall’Ora — Veneto
£55

Etna Rosso, Graci — Sicily
£58

Etna Rosso, Passopisciaro — Sicily
£72

Nero d’Avola, COS — Sicily
£42

Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, Valentini
£110

Teroldego, Foradori — Trentino
£65

SPAIN

Rioja

Rioja Crianza, Bodegas Roda
£58

Rioja Reserva, López de Heredia
£68

Rioja Gran Reserva, La Rioja Alta
£82

Rioja ‘Viñas de Gaín’, Artuke
£58

Ribera del Duero

Ribera del Duero, Dominio del Águila
£72

Ribera del Duero Reserva, Emilio Moro
£65

Other Spain

Mencía, Descendientes de J. Palacios — Bierzo
£58

Ribeira Sacra, Envínate — Galicia
£68

Garnacha, Jiménez-Landi — Sierra de Gredos
£62

‘La Uvas de la Ira’, Mentridana — Sierra de Gredos
£78

Priorat ‘Terroir Històric’, Terroir al Límit
£72

Montsant, Joan d’Anguera
£48

PORTUGAL

Douro Tinto, Niepoort
£45

Douro ‘Redoma’, Niepoort
£65

Dão, Quinta da Pellada
£62

Bairrada, Luis Pato
£52

CENTRAL & EASTERN EUROPE

Blaufränkisch, Claus Preisinger — Burgenland
£62

Zweigelt, Gut Oggau — Burgenland
£72

Xinomavro, Kir-Yianni — Naoussa, Greece
£48

Xinomavro, Markovitis — Naoussa, Greece
£68

Agiorgitiko, Gaia Estate — Nemea, Greece
£48

LOW-INTERVENTION / NATURAL

A few wines made with minimal manipulation. Some may be cloudy, wild or slightly unconventional — that’s part of the point.

Muscadet ‘Granite’, Jo Landron — Loire
£48

Chenin Blanc, Domaine de l’Oubliée — Loire
£55

‘Les Vignes de Mon Père’, Jean-François Ganevat — Jura
£95

Chardonnay ‘Patchwork’, Tissot — Jura
£75

Morgon, Jean Foillard — Beaujolais
£58

Fleurie, Yvon Métras — Beaujolais
£82

Gamay ‘Les Vignes de la Madone’, Marcel Lapierre — Beaujolais
£65

Ribeira Sacra, Envínate — Galicia
£68

Garnacha ‘El Corralón’, Jiménez-Landi — Gredos
£50

‘Las Uvas de la Ira’, Mentridana — Gredos
£78

Frappato, COS — Sicily
£58

Nerello Mascalese, Frank Cornelissen — Etna
£85

Teroldego, Foradori — Trentino
£65

Blaufränkisch, Claus Preisinger — Burgenland
£62

SOMETHING SPECIAL

Chablis 1er Cru, Domaine de Moor
£90

Vouvray Le Haut-Lieu Moelleux, Domaine Huet
£85

Hermitage Blanc, Jean-Louis Chave
£175

Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Château Rayas
£325

Barolo, Giuseppe Rinaldi
£145

Barbaresco, Bruno Giacosa
£155

Brunello di Montalcino, Salvioni
£125

Rioja Gran Reserva 2010, López de Heredia
£110

Pauillac, Château Batailley — mature vintage
£125

Gevrey-Chambertin, Domaine Fourrier
£145

BY THE GLASS

Sparkling

Crémant de Loire — 125ml £9

Champagne Brut — 125ml £14

White

Muscadet Sèvre-et-Maine — 175ml £8

Soave Classico — 175ml £9

Albariño — 175ml £10

Chablis — 175ml £12

Sancerre — 175ml £13

Red

Côtes du Rhône — 175ml £8

Chianti Classico — 175ml £10

Morgon — 175ml £10

Rioja Reserva — 175ml £11

Saint-Joseph — 175ml £13

Rosé

Tavel — 175ml £9

500ML CARAFE

House White — £20

House Red — £20

Muscadet — £23

Côtes du Rhône — £23

Chianti Classico — £28

Morgon — £29

OUR APPROACH

We like wines that taste of somewhere.

There are classics because the classics are classics for a reason — Burgundy, Bordeaux, the Rhône, Loire, Piedmont, Tuscany, Rioja and Champagne all have plenty to say.

But we also like wines made by people who farm carefully, intervene lightly and aren’t afraid to let the vineyard do the talking.

Our list is deliberately priced with a cap on the margin. The more expensive the wine, the less we add. So if you’ve been eyeing the better bottle, this is your excuse.

Wines marked as low-intervention may be unfined, unfiltered or contain low levels of sulphur. Vintage and availability may change.

In a recent post, ‘Reflections on being out of the limelight’, I bemoaned how on a recent trip to San Sebastian so many visitors experience seemed to conform to the same set of places. A very short list of the most known, most talked about in every publication and by every influencer, and received from every friend who is asked ‘because I know you love San Sebastian’. I too this last week offered up my list with of course all those must see’s; it’s difficult to fully resist that when asked.

What happened, I thought, to the days when you would go somewhere, walk around and randomly see where the days and evenings took you. Although London is of course huge with thousands of dining options I believe that the same thing has happened – a concentration of must visit places normalising each visitor experience where previously they were infinitely diverse. People don’t want to miss out, time and travel is rare and the desire to not have a rubbish time has trumped the interest in having an un-curated one.

Talking with friends who felt the same way I reflected on the fact that the best guide to any city experience are the people working in the bars and restaurants that you find yourselves in. How much more interesting perhaps it would be to just go to one bar and ask your server where to go next and what they would fancy doing if they were in town as a visitor.

I decided to give that a go myself role-playing as a tourist in London. This weekend I eventually found the time (decisiveness!) to take a whole weekend off work and finally got round to putting my plan into action. To kick off I asked Jules Pearson from the wonderful ‘London on the Inside’ - a treasure trove of information about all the best places to visit and goings on in London - to start me off with a bar. She lives in a similar part of town and recommended somewhere that is either a nice walk or a short line bike ride away. Hector’s Wine Bar in De Beauvoir. Hector’s is one of those utterly precious East London resources and very much a place for those in the know. They have a simply incredible treasure trove of wines both on the shelves in the bar, and if you clock it or know, in the cool back room where a simply crazy array of Unicorn bottles, rarities and treats lie in wait higgledy piggledy on shelves where you have to rummage behind one bottle or two to see something that you may otherwise miss.

They serve delicious small plates of food which can cater for a one glass visit snack or a pretty decent feed. One of my favourite things is to have the pile of crisps and ham. I had a little poke about in the back room and was, as ever, stuck for what treat to choose until I saw a rare 2014 white burgundy from Maison Vallette; saved by my see a 2014 white Burg buy a 2014 white Burg rule. Thinking that I might conceivably end up going to a BYO provided just the right excuse to snaffle it up. Before a couple of glasses of simply delicious, perfectly chilled red in the sunshine.

Hector’s are having their 5th birthday party this Sunday. Which is wonderful because it provides me for another excuse to go back. I’m sure if I do I will bump into numerous friends and colleagues from the wine and hospitality industry in London. Because this really is an insider’s tip. Small, perfectly formed. Incredible value and always a treat. Explaining my premise, not for the first time in the day we quickly settled upon Yuki Bar in Hackney, near the town hall. There was also mention, which I was delighted to hear of Mangal 1 on the Dalston Rd as being too good and classic not to suggest to a visitor to town. Obviously I was setting out to go in theory only to the next place suggested and then the next place suggested. Rules though aren’t really my thing feel and it was nice to have a justified reason for going there in my back pocket depending on how the evening panned out.

Yuki Bar is another small idiosyncratic and rather wonderful insider’s tip. With a small menu on a chalkboard of food influenced by Japan and another set of shelves filled with low intervention wine. There’s an incredible freshness and purity of expression and purpose to all of the dishes. And a subtlety to the processes and flavours. Yuki himself pours me a delicious orange wine to go with my beef sirloin tataki and follows it up with a delicious crisp white from Alsace, a region I don’t drink from nearly enough and a stunning, textured chenin Vin de France called Les Onglés from the Anjou region of the Loire. The wines are glorious and fabulously priced I’ve lucked out again in terms of where I’ve been sent.

The next destination is set; fabulous Brawn on Columbia Rd a legendary early mover in the natural wine scene in East London. And somewhere like all the places so far which offers counter dining. Yuki says it’s a good place because you can just have a glass of wine or carry on and make that the place for tonight’s main meal. As I leave I say goodbye to another solo diner visiting London happily eating and drinking by herself – of course offering up some recommendations. And I am sat down again next to a solo tourist when I’m found space at the counter in Brawn after a lovely walk down through London Fields and Broadway Market.

Brawn is, of course buzzing on a beautiful Thursday evening. It also has a wonderful by the glass offering. I ask for a suggestion to go with some oysters and am perfectly blessed with something brisk – we are too busy chatting about great restaurants and influencer lists for me to photograph or remember the name. This happens a lot.

At this point for no reason but my own lack of restraint when confronted by a good back bar the wheels come off slightly via a small, beautifully served green Chartreuse. I am on holiday!!

My next recommended destination is Planque back in Dalston. An incredible wine list is matched by wizardry in the kitchen from Seb Myers. Although recently listed as the number one in London by Vittles magazine’s Jonathan Nunn, not as many people make it to Planque when they’re visiting London for a short stay as might or perhaps should. As I set off, excited at the prospect of returning after too long myself I pass a fabulous looking bar on Broadway market called ‘Off Broadway’. It’s a long, hot walk to the restaurant I think, so it wouldn’t do any harm at all to pop in for a spicy mezcal Margarita. Of course as ever I attract a talker who wants to tell me his life story and buy me a drink…. only escaping when he picks a fight with another passer by or customer who knows.

Out of respect for what I know of Planque I decide that my faux tourist is going to hold that recommendation for a later dinner ‘this visit’ – although a fictional visitor following these recommendations would have had a delightful time I don’t need more wine. As if by magic remembering a place I think was called Mangal 1 had had such a strong recommendation at the start of my Odyssey I decide discretion is the better part of valour.

And subsequently have no regrets as I discover from the flames of the charcoal pit some of the tenderest, tastiest kebabs, grills and dips. Mangal 1 has been great for over 30 years we really are blessed with our food and drink around here. Unlicensed they let you take wine and normally I would but today I have called time and I also don’t ask for an after recommendation (although I am sure they would say Highwater across the road).

I’ve had a lot of fun and it has reinforced my belief that you will always have a good and or interesting time with this approach to tourism. But I did start somewhere local to me and although all the places I went were genuine recommendations I’m more than familiar and regular or occasional at all of them. I’m inclined for authenticity to head to another less familiar part of town and do it again. If anybody has any recommendations for a starting point for their ends I’d love to hear them. And I’m going to be up for another adventure.

Today in what is a rare event I replied publicly to the reviewer and engaged in a conversation with them which I share unedited below. I generally don’t reply except to offer apologies because the event is done, the review reflects a lived experience which is subjective and cannot be denied – and I accept that imperfections are part of life and our guests are not obligated to take into account that our intention is always to respect their visit and the money spent and to give guests great food, drink and service as an end in itself; that is why we come to work.

But perhaps sometimes things accumulate and then a growing feeling builds over a threshold and needs release; and as I have passed that limit and exceeded that threshold and wasted a chunk of my day off here we are:

I have noticed in recent months an objective increase in the number of reviews that I feel are unfair, wilfully inaccurate and at times verging on the vindictive; as if we have become a legitimate outlet for people’s general sense of being let down, overlooked, less financially comfortable, lost and angry with the world. Poor reviews have always hurt but in the background I have kept in mind that disappointing visits happen, and let-down guests are entitled to their howl of anguish and resentment when that does. We will as operators always have reviews that hurt and disappoint and some forms that piss us off. My particular bete noir is the “We have been here for so many great occasions that were wonderful but this recent visit..” No prior good reviews; no sense that previous visits should have informed them that our intentions are genuine and our normal standards high; no quiet word that they hadn’t enjoyed their visit quite as much as usual and feedback that a particular dish was somehow lacking or disappointing – which would of course lead to best efforts to retrieve the situation and said items coming off the bill.

Of course no customer owes us that, no bad experience is acceptable… but the lack of balance can feel upsetting. And then there is the jump from 5* (everyone does seem to know perhaps from their Uber rating that anything less is a negative) straight to 1*.

In the unedited reply below I accept my first response is informed by my feelings so I share with humility too and the acceptance some people would find it unacceptable. I do think however that the thrust of the review is deeply, factually wrong. It is grievously misleading to say that our online menu is not reflected in our printed menu as I show – that would be so dishonest as to be (probably literally) criminal. It simply isn’t true or therefore fair. Our wine list is not too steep but is one of the empirically excellent parts of our business. We have 23 bottles priced at £40 or less and 71 at £60 or less and our more expensive wines are at industry-leading low pricing. I don’t find there to be any self-reflection in our exchange about the obligation to be factually correct or truthful – either about wine pricing or the allegation that the printed menu was not the same as online.

‘That’s how I feel’… seems to do a lot of work here. As it seems to do in the wider world which is almost certainly the real source of my frustration today. I do spend too much time on social media (my new one-hour daily limit on Instagram having turned out to be ‘flexible’ when it needs to be.) What appears to be happening is that ‘that is how I feel’ – about climate crisis, immigration, illegal wars – simply rises above truth, factfulness and accountability. I have done the therapy and yes I do believe you don’t argue with peoples lived experiences and their own truth regarding their feelings. But surely a line should exist when in discussion or debate actual facts and truths are presented, and there are no ‘alternative facts’ in play; doesn’t some degree of responsibility for the representations you make about others come into play? Our exchange is below…. Very interested in thoughts.

John Doe

Food1.0

Service3.0

Ambience4.0

Value1.0

NoiseModerate

I’ve been to the drapers before for the Sunday roast, which I highly enjoyed. I thought I would try at the restaurant during the week. I went on their website, looked at the menu, and it seemed very reasonable. However, when I arrived with my wife and looked at the menu, it said as per the website about 15 quid a main, but it was 30 to 35 quid, which raised my eyebrows a little. At this point, I wanna add the staff were lovely, very polite, and courteous, but my wife and I didn’t fancy anything on this menu, so we decided to order a steak Tartafor starters, an asparagus salad, and a cheese board. The salad was quite nice. The steak tartar presentation was thrown on a plate looking like a lump of dog meat with a piece of bread and it didn’t taste very nice and the cheese bowl was too tiny little bits of cheese that tasted of rubber I left a steak chart Outan we left most of the cheese. We weren’t asked whether there was anything wrong so we just decided to pay the bill and go. It’s a shame because I like the pub. The wine menu is also ridiculously steep. You know i.e. in a lot of nice restaurants and I’m not afraid of spending some money but this really was very very poor.

The Drapers Arms

John Doe some facts for the public record. Our 350+ wine list starts at £29 & includes world renowned wines at the lowest prices in London. For example Biondi Santi 2010 £230 vs Dorian £995. Leoville Poyferre 2009 £250 vs Benares £845. Ornellaia 2013 £240 vs Clos Maggiore £735. No room here to do the whole list.. big numbers but incredible value at all price points all online & checkable. Our menu which is updated online daily has many dishes under £25 as it did on the day. Eg today Whole Plaice £24 Roast Cod £25 (fish is an expensive ingredient). I am sorry that you didn’t enjoy the steak tartare & I agree it is difficult to hide the fact that it is basically chopped raw meat with seasoning & dressing. The dry aged steak tartare was £12 Saturday & shown as “Steak tartare & beef fat toast”

John Doe

your reply says it all to me, especially the throwaway comment about the steak tartar. if well seasoned well presented well, it is one of my favourite meals. if you want me to send you a photo of it I will oblige. I don’t know who replied, but doesn’t seem like senior management to me.

The Drapers

Hi Ray. Owner not manager! What about all the factual inaccuracies recklessly put out there to harm our business? Our wine list simply put is very good value & exceptional for a pub. That is just fact. Want to correct that? We had lots of food on for under £30 & our menu is never different to our online menu so that is just libellous. But hey give a reckless one star inaccurate review to a business genuinely trying to look after people because you thought a steak tartare wasn’t up to standard. Did you know we were also serving £1 oysters & £2 langoustines on the day ie less than cost to give something back? Or that we had 15 exceptional Chablis on by the glass that day at cost price? Your reply ‘says it all’. Doubling down, no willingness to respond to the substance of my considered reply

John Doe

I’m not trying to go harm to your business. I’ve been there for Sunday lunch which I found exceptional. Your website menu was misleading. We requested the £29 bottle of wine only to be told it was not available by one of your staff but then another one found it. I’m not being malicious but the food really wasn’t up to scratch. The cheese was like rubber and the steak tartar was awful. I don’t wanna upset you. I don’t wanna fall out but that’s how I feel.

John Doe

To give you the benefit of the doubt, I went back onto your website just now, and again the menu seemed very reasonable, but that was not the prices reflected on the menu I was given on Saturday. I normally give good reviews and I’m sorry if this upset you but that’s just the way it was.

The Drapers Arms

John Doe did you review the experience you enjoyed? Our wine list is as I say truly exceptional & great value. Here are some other pub entry level wines: Bull & Last £39. Pelican £37. Red Lion & Sun £33. I could go on. My point about value for pricier wines is unarguable & easily checkable. So I genuinely feel your comments on that are simply inaccurate, unfair & undermine very serious efforts to offer something generous & wonderful. As we update our menu daily online I can’t refute what you say with evidence but i check it daily. Have a look at it as often as you like to check... sharing dishes can be over £30 but really only those. I am sorry if you didn’t enjoy the tartare but we try to be very flexible taking things off bills if they are unsatisfactoyr. Jumping to a 1* review seems extreme

The Drapers Arms

I am not at work it is my day off so took a bit to get this. This is a direct copy of the menu mains from Saturday which is a saved unaltered electronic file last saved date Saturday.

Baked aubergine, whipped feta, harissa & pickled chilli 21.00

Braised piattone beans, orzo, Pecorino & wild garlic pesto 21.00

Whole plaice, Datterini tomatoes, prawns, basil & white wine 25.00

Roast cod, braised cuttlefish, peppers & fregola 26.50

Suet crust boeuf Bourguignon pie *£1 goes to Action Against Hunger 19.00

Braised oxtail & bone marrow butter beans 26.00

Rump steak, pommes frites, salad & salsa verde 30.50

Every Sunday at the Drapers we have a consistent stream of walk-ins on the one day when I run the service, as well as a barrage of calls requesting last-minute seats. Most of the time I can only offer a couple of seats at the bar, where there will likely already be other guests self-evidently having a good time. Often there will be a little queue system running. Prospective diners fall seemingly unambiguously into one of two camps; either their eyes light up at the prospect and they jump at the chance to perch up for as long as they like or… they look as if I just offered to fillet, sauté and serve up a first born child or roadkill smeared in dogshit; grimacing in offended disgust as they turn back out into the relentless bounce from one full pub to another that is an ill-prepared Islington Sunday.

If you’re in the first gang hi, you can skip to my short list of recommendations if you don’t fancy the self-affirming pleasure of hearing exactly how you are right. If the second; a moment of your time and an open mind and you might be taking the first steps to a life changing way of dining and travelling.

Counter dining is simply way more intimate and connected whoever you are dining with; best friend, sibling, child or date. OK maybe especially date. Instead of being face to face not knowing if your eye contact is intimidatingly stare-y, shiftily avoidant or just uncomfortable you can share the view and have meaningfully calibrated flirtatious glances, actual side eye and occasional measured direct contact for emphasis or to demonstrate good listening. Physically you can lean in conspiratorially, nudge, lay a hand on a sleeve for emphasis (leave it just a millisecond longer than strictly necessary…) what better environment to breathe the same scented air and gently flirt. The food instead of being between you to be fought over is laid out in front of you as a feast for you both to dive in equally and greedily.

You will also be directly engaged with your barperson or server… who will enjoy looking after you personally and be happy to chat to you when they are not too busy with other orders. When you are travelling, pulling yourself up to a counter gives you a prime local guide at your fingertips. Where to go to next to take the evening up a notch? Where to plan on going after that for a late night and new friends? What do they think of your other plans for your visit? All sorts of valuable not just local but local hospitality worker tips and contacts can be yours and frankly those are the very best. Tip well! Bar Cañete in Barcelona is somewhere you absolutely have to choose the counter, as are Nestor and Ganbarra in San Sebastien but generally any foreign travel should involve a good chat with a local at a counter.

If you are concerned that the person serving you is going to be listening in on your conversation and worry that might constrain your gossip, you can relax. Most of the time servers are pretty tuned out and its unlikely we wouldn’t have heard a hundred similar indiscretions, confessions and really really bad chat up lines before if we were inclined to listen. So unless it’s outrageously about how when you found your granny face down dead on the carpet you had to check her for vibrating beads before calling the doctor, your server isn’t going to be listening or registering. Given a choice between the flapping ears of the leery neighbours on the too close to you next-door table who stopped talking to each other twenty years ago and will performatively disapprove of your lifestyle, or a handsome but discrete server, who do you prefer to know your business anyway?

By yourself and the case really doesn’t need to be made surely? Taking the step from feeling shy and worried that you look lonely and friendless to embracing the joy of eating (and drinking!) well by yourself in great places is one of the momentous small steps in growing your self confidence I am glad I embraced a while ago. If you can take a book perfect; so much more engaging than a phone and you can prop it open or let if fall closed when your food arrives and your fingers are needed to tear apart your bread and chicken wings….whether in a relationship or not I have for years now treated myself to regular and on occasion pretty generous meals out at the best counters in town; here are some of my absolute favourites:

· Brutto: £5 negronis (free first one for solo diners, rest in peace Russell), cuddles, lardo toasts, pasta and keep the house chianti coming til the last piece of the exceptional steak is picked from the bone. Dark, intimate and loud so unimprovable really

· Bocca di Lupo: fabulous apero, fried sage leaves, stuffed olives and fritto misto always while you build a feast from across Italian regions and now with added comfortable stools

· Smoking Goat: sticky fingers from the legendary chicken wings, lethal cocktails named after favourite tunes and albums (mines a Maggot Brain) and spice to lift the spirits. Possibly the coolest servers in town. Super8 restaurants alone make the London counter dining scene a wonderful one

· Quality Wines; right in the action inches away from Nick’s cooking, some of the best hosting in London from Marcos and team and an unbeatable by the glass and bottle list with an ever changing menu

· Kiln: more fabulous Super8 spice and in the heart of Soho. Over order especially if you’re solo for a mix of smoky fiery textures and you will find yourself polishing off more than you expected. Always worth the wait you can always pop for pints or cocktails nearby and come back via the queue system

· Brat: Whether its OG when you are right next to the wine station or Climpson’s where the spicy margs will lead you on; pillowy breads and flamed food is all perfectly counter friendly

· Mountain: The view across the room across the wine serving area is so much more fun – and you can see all the action in the kitchen and gaze longingly across the seated diners at the fridges of wines from the exceptional list on the opposite wall

· Tiella: the latest of my very favourite restaurants keeps all its bar and front for counter walk ins. The martinis are reassuringly icy and if they ever take the pasta e fagioli off the menu and you haven’t been you will have missed out on one of London’s single most fabulous experiences

· One Club Row: New York style glamour in a perfectly buzzy perfectly lit room. I need to learn that one martini really is enough.. or do I? A second always leads to such fun and the lovely servers are just the right amount of mischievous to persuade me.

Enjoy!

One last quid pro quo request from the other side of the bar; please do stay moderate on the physical intimacy. There is very little any bar person wants to hear at work less than sounds associated with bodies and moisture – it’s distasteful, vulgar and rude. Also verbalisations – the expression ‘deeper David deeper’ and its like belong in specialist videos not to a shift at work.

I intend to be carried out of the pub feet first after a good lunch of drinking some very well aged wines from the very well stocked cellar. I mention this in the context of continuing to see despairing posts from many fine industry colleagues about the state of their businesses and the industry in general. Arguing that the government should step in and change National Insurance, business rates and VAT. And of course, from my perspective, the economy. Begging for some the question as to why we all do it if it is so hard.

So I thought if it isn’t obvious that I would never leave the pub the time was perhaps ripe to talk about what it is that we all love so much about hospitality and how many rewards there are that go far beyond what we could be making financially in alternative careers.

Every day I’m at work I get to see people leave having been looked after. In what is hopefully an enjoyable environment. Looked after by my lovely staff. Cooked for by my fabulous chefs. Eating and drinking well and sharing good times with friends and family. Those moments when we get to relax and eat out are to me the punctuation of a life well lived – and my most treasured blessing. When we go on holiday or certainly when I go on holiday the meals out by the sea, in a wonderful covered courtyard, in a little underground wine bar or at the counter of a favourite restaurant; those are the points of my greatest pleasure and pretty much the only things that I research and plan. If you look on Instagram or any other social media it’s impossible not to see that the highlights of many people’s lives are the meals out, the photos of their food, the pictures of their friends and family laughing and enjoying special moments together. To get to see that as the consequence of our work on the faces of people leaving and in the gratitude that they express has to be one of the fastest positive, gratifying and wonderful feedback loops that there can be in any job.

Obviously, I don’t consider hospitality to rival doctors saving lives and treating sick children, charity workers alleviating disasters accidental and man-made in places like Gaza or many other important jobs. It’s a noble pursuit nonetheless to put yourself in the service of other people’s special moments and the rewards are difficult to overstate. First dates, family gatherings, myriad multiple birthdays every weekend, weddings, long put off catch ups with old friends, engagements, introductions of partners to family…. Or just a shelter from the storm and a solitary solo pint. Nourishment for the soul for your server.

The actual work is, for me pretty joyous. Hospitality brings a strong sense of esprit de corps – we work hard for each other as well as for the customer and we do that for sure. I like the sort of people that choose to work alongside me, front and back. Strong, spirited, grafters, diligent, kind… do anything for a friend no mile too far kind of people. Straight talkers, wild cards, accustomed to adversity and to brushing it off. Genuinely wanting to do the best we can for the guest experience as an end in itself not as a route to a paycheck as such.

As a business owner I have had the opportunity to try to create an environment that is fixed to certain values and ethics. I take great pleasure in thinking hard about how to make people feel valued, safe and seen. I like where possible to give people a chance to be the best version of themselves they can and to find a community that, for the long or short term, accepts and values them for who they are. On occasion we get to be a stepping stone at a pivotal moment in their lives – between school or university say and the other thing they actually want to be doing. Perhaps a source of cash as the built up their own project. Maybe even we provide somewhere fixed, secure and supportive at a time when other aspects of life are less so. The ability to be flexible on hours, the amount of skills you walk in with and the length of your interest in employment is one of the strengths of hospitality and why so many creative people have worked in it at some point or other.

For me, relatively untrained and very unmanageable hospitality has been a simply wondrous part of my life and I owe it so very very much. It pains me to see so many individuals and businesses finding it hard right now but I bet almost all of them wouldn’t have any other life if it was offered to them.I sincerely hope and pray that the strivers, creators, 80 hour weekers find a way through and out the other side.

One consequence of this is that there are increasingly queues outside full beyond bursting restaurants whilst two doors down another similar looking and equally longstanding place can be as good as empty. Partly the result of influencers of course, but also a lot the result of our collective tendency to ask our friends, contacts and social media where we ‘have to go’ having a concentrating effect; narrowing our choices to the most recommended and a quick cycle that brings those myriad choices to a short list very quickly. In the past just wandering around and popping into places on a whim would have been far more my style, as well as far more suited to the nature of pintxo browsing in San Sebastian and frankly fairer on the broader multitude of places that fill the streets with options and make it such a vibey place to wander around.

Back in London, I and I’m sure many others are struck by the difficulty of reconciling the incredible pace of restaurant new openings, including many thrilling ones destined to delight the London dining scene for many years, with the sense that so many in the industry are concerned for their very viability. Many colleagues vocalise their belief that the hospitality industry overall is confronted by an unfair burden of taxation. From alcohol duty, business rates, National Insurance increases and a general absence of government support. This narrative means that for the first time in many years, I find myself sometimes struggling to bank the good times without anxiety for the future. Add the global economic situation in turmoil from Trump’s madness overlaid on the ongoing unique to us impact of Brexit and dire economic mismanagement. Everywhere I look on social media I see restauranteurs and industry bodies in good faith listing the same set of grievances. I’m loathe to join in partly because I think the biggest issue facing our industry as a provider of a luxury good is the generalised sense of households struggling and tough times amongst our communities and potential customers. But I am equally unwilling to dismiss their concerns.

The answer I think lies in two squeezed middles; firstly inequality in society means that consumers really exist at one or other end of the toothpaste tube – at one those for whom the economy works and who are prosperous in what is actually a remarkably low by historic standards (and I would argue anomalous in terms of its unethically unequal outcomes) tax burden on those with above average incomes. Restaurants and businesses catering for those not feeling the pinch are in a good place; as I have written before, running a business to profit maximise when your customers are blissfully not living in straightened economic times has led to some restauranteurs charging increasingly high margins and quietly making a very decent living; which doubles down on making the most in demand (and let’s be clear truly fabulous and deserving of success) places even more unaffordable for the many.

The other squeezed middle is the restaurants not in the limelight of being talked about – I am loathe to say hyped because the term comes with the implication that the being talked about is an excess of praise. Most if not all the places that are most talked about are truly excellent and you can be guaranteed to have a fabulous and memorable time if you visit them. Certainly the restaurants that I mention in San Sebastian are all places that I have enjoyed as much as anywhere I have ever eaten and I will almost certainly Gaia willing eat at again. I am a fully paid up member of the influenceable classes and I genuinely believe that Topjaw, for example, are terrifically good for hospitality; they love the industry, love eating out and enthusiastically remind people daily how good it is for your soul to eat out in restaurants whether alone or with friends; for a special occasion or just because you feel hungry.

It does seem however that an unintended consequence of the same places ending up being most talked about by everyone is that the places that are not talked about struggle to make themselves heard in the noise. I completely understand, with a wry smile, why the supernaturally talented Seb Myers of Planque could find himself quoted as bemoaning a lack of recognition short moments after Jonathan Nunn placed his restaurant at number one nationally; his restaurant doesn’t get talked about as much as it should and it really is doing something wonderous; contributing factors might be that he has been around for a while diligently plying his trade, his restaurant isn’t new, it doesn’t fit to any current hot trend and perhaps he doesn’t have a top PR firm working to keep his face on our screens, small and handheld or increasingly huge and fixed to the wall.

Out of the relatively limited glare of influencer and journalistic attention being one of the other tens of thousands of restaurants in the UK can sometimes feel like being two doors down from Ganbarra. In tough times I am sure for some people that can seem unfair. Having had a business that shut down well within a year of opening (I suspect it might not have been amazing…) I know what it is like to wonder what the hell you can do to turn things around apart from shouting naked from the rooftop… Personally I don’t think discounting is ever the answer: completely reasonably people who love eating out but feel the pinch keep an eye out for discounts and will rarely convert to coming back as full price paying customers; you don’t make any money from discounted diners and some of the people who want to come anyway will take advantage of the offer; I don’t personally want the people who truly support my restaurant to come in and get a worse deal than a table next to them who will never be back. I am always amazed by the lists of truly reputable places who do huge discounts, perhaps one of the things that contributes to my current stat of vague anxiety. Set menus, limited early diner deals, high concept stories about a dish being limited in number for some relatively implausible reason, hiring a PR for help when numbers turn down not just your opening…. all perfectly understandably well worn paths.

It is possible to run a place quietly, without a grand opening or big budget and be successful simply by virtue of being really damn good. Places like Teal or Tiella (lucky us east Londoners!) although recently opened it is true are destined to be around for a long time sustained by communities thankful for their presence and excellence. Brutto, Quality Chop House, Clipstone, Bocca di Lupo, The Canton Arms are among my long established favourites that I am sure will always be packed to the rafters because they are so damn good. Ultimately, I think The Drapers will be around too because I have never felt more thrilled by our food and confident in the whole team – plus the building remains as beautiful as ever and our customers are our constant blessing.

I don’t have an agenda or clarion call for this piece; I certainly don’t condemn social media of anyone else for wanting to go to the hot new place (Impala really is utterly bewitching as you would expect from Meedu and Super8 – get down there !!! said with some self awareness). I do however feel the pain and stress that underlies the campaigns for a different government approach. I hope perhaps that we can all remember that when we live in London we don’t only have five minutes to cover the highlights reel and check back in with the places that we have loved longtime…

In one interview, Henry, who is one of the gentlest and most thoughtful colleagues in this industry said something that I found interesting. Asked why Bouchon Racine didn’t have a Michelin star, he replied that their cooking wasn’t sufficiently consistent. In no way was he saying that the food at Bouchon Racine isn’t on every occasion delightful, delicious and nourishing because it is. What he did mean, I think, was that the food is prepared with enthusiasm, love and the desire to please unfiltered through fussiness, obsession or quantum level precision plating. Henry has a small kitchen, a full restaurant and happy chefs cooking interesting and varied food and Bouchon Racine has been rated as one of the very best restaurants in London since opening. With a distinguished career going back, and I hope he won’t mind me saying this, many years I’m sure Henry has pretty much seen and done everything in restaurant kitchens over the last 30 or so years.

What gave me pause when hearing this was the background chatter around the Noma controversy. Allegations have been made that not only were legions of young, enthusiastic staff not paid for the privilege of working long hours but also that a ingrained culture of bullying, abuse and exploitation defined some people’s work experience there. (It is important to point out that many alumni have also stood up to defend and praise the restaurant and their time there.) As is so often the culture was justified in some quarters by the ends apparently requiring such means. I don’t claim to know any of the details or truthfulness regarding the allegations but you can read extensively about them online. What chimed with me in this context about Henry’s comment was that I don’t want to eat a plate of food with everything meticulously tweezered to exactly the right place, angle and interrelationship if it means some terrified, ambitious and talented young person is quaking in their Birkenstocks with exhaustion, hunger and fear.

It all brought to mind a previous conversation I had with another distinguished chef friend after they had just finished a few weeks working at another well known and much starred chef’s restaurant. Exhausted, he told me of working five back-to-back double shifts. From first thing in the morning until last thing at night. When I asked why he had done this he said that everyone in the kitchen worked five back-to-back double shifts. From first thing in the morning until last thing at night. He also related that the chefs were on seven shift contracts and were not paid overtime for the extra shifts. I realise I also don’t want to eat somewhere where the well-heeled eat and drink obsessively well, for large amounts of money and the owner enjoys an equally well heeled and well dressed existence; where the filler in the sandwich is overworked, underpaid, exploited chefs and service staff.

The issues of bullying and abuse in the name of ‘achieving perfect and consistent high standards’ and exploitation, long hours with inadequate or no money, are distinct, but adjacent. It seems that for too long it has been accepted that the fine dining business model while profitable for owners can only be delivered on the backs of young staff desperate to make their way to the highest levels of our industry. Where owners and operators gate keep access through a period of tough it out indenture. Something sticks in the craw when we are told that is the only way. If that really is the only way then perhaps fine dining isn’t a moral or justifiable enterprise.

Another of my most loved restaurants in London is the longstanding River Cafe in Hammersmith. The food there is famously prepared with the very finest ingredients and each visit is a joy. I haven’t been back for a few years because in part it is expensive and visiting, for someone working in the industry, needs to be a rare treat. If, however, you have ever been lucky enough to eat there at lunchtime and linger as other diners leave you might have seen the very happy looking young staff eating incredibly lovely looking, generously provided staff meals cooked using the same love and care and attention and ingredients. They are also paid. So while the River Cafe is known for being an incredible treat it is also well known for being expensive; but seeing the faces of the staff enjoying being at work and treated so well means perhaps there is another way. Be upfront about the costs associated with the meal and charge people appropriately instead of squaring the circle on the backs of a cohort of powerless underpaid and overworked employees and ‘interns’. Then pay that money to your staff rather than popping it in your own pocket.

BBE is not just an iconic record store but also a bar and club. As you enter two speakers each side of the doorway tower over you. Straight ahead is the bar, dotted around are shelves and tables stacked with vinyl and to the right a set of decks. The size of the room is modest and sized to a country house living room and in the middle of the room is a big, battered Chesterfield sofa often covered in the coats of people who have come to dance. And dancing and listening is what you come here to do because every night a brilliantly curated roster of DJs plays –entry is free and everyone is welcome.

The DJ roster includes new young stars of the future setting out and legends across genres of the night clubs, raves and parties of the 90s. It’s not unheard of to find Little Louie Vega from Masters at Work playing to a knowledgeable and appreciative crowd. There’s always an incredible warmth in the room; laughter, drinking and dancing. The place simply reeks of community. And an inclusive open door for all approach to life. What a huge generosity of spirit putting on a free party for all comers night after night.

On this visit the young woman, who was just finished playing, moves around the room, seeming to know about 50% of the people in the bar. Standing next to me by the sofa is an older guy in a sharp suit. Entirely self-contained, he jerks and twitches like a boxer jabbing the air in his dressing room and on the walk to the ring. Suddenly he’s warmed up enough and like quicksilver slides to the front of the decks where he dances in the world of his own. For a few tracks before retreating back to stand and nod off the dance floor.

Around the room mixed groups gather and chat. There’s a plentiful smattering of older guys and strong happy safe women. Mixed Hackney residents as well for sure as some pilgrims. Standing by one of the speakers with his head no more than 5 inches away is a young Asian man who barely moves in the time that I’m in there. Everyone’s smiling, laughing and making friends.

Is this the best hospitality in town? It may not be a fine dining restaurant. Or edgy wine bar with natty juices from countries you can’t point to on a map. But I bet the staff working here are treated as well as the guests and we are spoilt rotten with kindness. You don’t have to shout or bully to achieve perfection – no excuses. You just have to express your values in every corner of your venue. Now if I could just get tickets to their 30^th party…

As a primer to navigate the landscape let me introduce you to the idea of “Gross Profit”. You can skip this bit if you like! In hospitality when we price a drink we do so with a target gross profit percentage in mind – referring to what portion of the net sales price you would like to be gross profit (before all other costs associated with the business other than ‘raw materials’). Historically for wine that might be up to say 70%. To calculate your sales price for a 70% GP you need the cost price to be 30% of that sales price. So if you divide your cost price by 0.3 you get your net sales price. Then multiply by 1.2 to add VAT. Thus a bottle of wine that cost us £30 would be sold for a net £100…with VAT added that makes £120. Seems like a lot to ‘open a bottle’ but of course that isn’t the offer… it’s a place that has staff, rent, rates, utility, maintenance, insurance, stock and countless other costs to meet and that is what the margin has to cover.

I can vividly remember the sense of embarrassment when I sold our first pint back in 2009 at the fact that we were charging £3.90 for a pint of Staropramen that cost £1.12 (VAT was 15% and we have never come close to a 70% GP!). I got ok with it once all those other bills started to come in but I have never stopped wanting to be able to look a customer in the eye and feel that we are engaging in a fair exchange.

I make a habit of checking wine lists online before heading to a restaurant – mostly because wine is an important part of my experience; I want to know I can drink well with my meal and I look forward to sometimes having a bottle in mind to drink. And then recently I noticed that I had begun to think of going somewhere and then change my mind when I saw the wine pricing – including to some much loved restaurants. Things came to a bit of a head when I was thinking to go somewhere where I really wanted to visit because I like the owners very much…. But the first thing I saw online was a wine we list that looked as if it was 50% more than our list price. I did a little double take and checked and yes a pretty entry level Cava was £46 where we charged £31.

Here’s where your GP primer might come in handy. I wasn’t sure if the pricing I was seeing was a difficulty with maths or something more egregious. I posted a little poll on Instagram asking “if I increase my GP target from 70% to 80% how much do I put prices up?” Of the options I offered most people realised 10% was a trap and….opted for 20% or 30% when the answer is indeed 50%. Almost no one picked 50%. Many of them hospitality and specifically wine people in hospitality were getting it wrong. Maybe I wondered people in a challenging environment were deciding they needed to ‘boost GP’ a little and simply didn’t understand the impact on actual price of a mere 10% increase in GP? (you can check….. £30 is 30% of a £100 sale price but 20% of a £150 sale price; instead of charging 3.33 times cost you are now charging 5 times cost!)

Now not only have we had a 70% GP target on less expensive wines but we reduce our GP target sharply for more expensive wines and have a maximum cash mark up too. Some of our bottles are considerably less than 50% GP so we are making a fraction not a multiple of our costs as a margin. And yet we are able to pay our staff industry leading levels and make an adequate profit that allows me to look customers in the eye. Anything we charge more would simply be extra profits in the shareholder pockets…. mine in other words. If we are making a moderate (less than 10%!) profit charging £100 then we would be making a significant multiple of that charging £150. The consequence of our pricing means that you can, for example drink a Mikulski 1er Cru Charmes Meursault here in the Drapers for £165 while a pub in town can charge £450 for the basic (relatively speaking ie entry level) wine from the same producer. With restaurants generally listing wines that you can’t buy in Waitrose and the beguiling complexity of Burgundy there are wines that would be good value at that price but you would need to know your stuff to be sure. Remember we make money on the more expensive wine at nearly 1/3 the price.

I had a mild epiphany as from the deep recesses of my mind I remembered my very first economics theory lesson…. and the basic assumption that businesses act as profit maximisers. I was better as in so many things at the theory than the practise so I had missed that people actually do that.

Sitting in the simply wonderful Tiella restaurant, newly opened on Columbia Road, I found myself understanding better what was going on. Hospitality is not a singular homogenous business. The wonderful Tiella is very explicitly built to look and feel like a traditional local, family run Trattoria. Local as in a place that feeds a local possibly single small town or village community – and where the customers all know the costs and value of the ingredients and the owners could never and would never want to look their neighbours in the eye and charge them a multiple of what is fair and reasonable. I am not sure that little family run businesses really do profit maximise… they delight in their role in the community, they hope to make a fair income aligned with their neighbourhood and the service they bring to their neighbours. That is definitely the basis on which we run the Drapers and, given the incredible value offered at Tiella, that is how the chef/proprietor Dara Klein obviously thinks too.

Ed McIlroy owner of the exceptional Tollingtons and Plimsoll restaurants was recently on a podcast called ‘Gotofood’ which I watch as the themes to this piece are swimming through my mind. He bemoans that it is a taboo for restaurants and hospitality businesses to admit the aim of making money. (It is a great watch he is both charming, engaging and thoughtful.) I suspect that he means for small owner operated community restaurants like his, Tiella, Sune and The Drapers. I take a lesson from this too – we did take a risk, invest and work hard to make our restaurants a success. There is nothing fundamentally wrong with a reasonable level of reward.

Central London businesses with external investors with promised rewards, multiple sites, growth plans, business plans and targeted returns (often aimed at selling out) are not the same thing at all. Like any other business they are absolutely entitled to charge what they can get away with – like McDonalds. Every £ of profit is what they were built to achieve and what they have fairly earned. Everything from location to menu design to lighting to the language servers are trained to use has one objective: to fill the place, extract as much money as possible from each customer, turn and replace the tables and keep doing that to the maximum level day in day out. And to minimise costs including wages. I remember looking at the wine list of one restaurant where I was reliably informed (by someone who worked there at a senior level) that chefs were asked to work five straight double shifts without any overtime against their contracted seven shifts….. and seeing a bottle of wine four times/£800 more than we charged. None of that excess profit was going to the staff.

I am glad that I saw Honey’s impassioned post so that I know that making drinking good wine affordable and offering good value for ‘gems that deserve to be drunk thirstily over a long lunch’ as she puts it is an aim shared by other owner operators serving local communities. To be honest I am in town less often these days than I was and I will continue to check wine lists before I go somewhere. Maybe Brutto for their intensely smashable house Chianti…

Recent reports suggest that the impact of Brexit has been a hit of up to 8% lower GDP by the end of 2025. That catastrophic blow to business confidence, the finances of the government and almost everyone apart from the super wealthy is what really lies behind the difficulties we face. Restaurants are having a hard time because we are all having a hard time and have less spare cash – incomes are stagnating, taxes are rising and the country’s decline can be seen in every corner of daily life. The person most singularly responsible for that is the wank-sock puppet made flesh Farage – helped by the billionaire class client press, shady foreign money and the cowardice of politicians failing to advocate for and celebrate our wonderfully vibrant, diverse, colourful and tolerant European, global island for fear of losing the votes of puce, old, flag shagging white men.

I found it particularly galling to see Farage this week, economically incoherently as always, trying to exploit pubs’ well know challenges (and those of the people who would like to drink in them) in the service of his agenda. Touting the idea of a 5p reduction in the price of a pint he announced Reform would pay for it by bringing back the two child benefit cap. Almost as unpleasant as the idea of punishing children living in poverty so that people can afford to drink more was the dog whistle subtext of trying to use our fondness for ‘the great British pub’ in service of his unpleasant little Englander, white nationalist agenda. When Farage talks about taking 5p off the pint of ‘hard pressed pub goers’ he is conjuring up a certain type of pub and a certain type of pub-goer. An old fashioned boozer where older white men can safely indulge in the national pastime of a session of beer drinking, perhaps with some peanuts and an interlude for darts. Nothing too fancy and no cognizance of the world as it has become.

I bristled of course at anyone thinking that they can own, hijack or exploit what pubs represent and what they mean to us all. There is no set single Platonic pub. As a food led pub in a prosperous part of the much loathed lefty, cosmopolitan Islington the Drapers Arms would of course trigger Reform minded people as being symptomatic of what is wrong with the country. As the left behind by progress and change, what they fail to see is that our pubs’ willingness and ability to change over time and meet the needs of a modern world is a model for how to adapt and embrace change to service communities and survive. I use different pubs for different things – the pizza pub, the Desi pub, the music pub, the one that shows sports, that has a late licence after work, the one with rooms, the beer drinking pub… the one with the great wine list (you know that one right?). There are some of course I don’t because they aren’t for me.

Across the country pubs are a beacon for how to change to meet the needs of the country in all of its aspects – apart from needing to be we want to be. Pubs belong in and service communities as we find them. To have the principal architect of our biggest economic challenge looking to play this to his grotesque agenda sticks in the craw and can’t stand.

Oh and by the way, thank you for asking…. We are doing fine. We are blessed by our lovely building, our community, our customers and the incredible team who work at The Drapers Arms.

Reflections on (relative) success and (absolute) failure

As some readers of the blog may know I have recently opened and then within a year shut a second pub in Chiswick - the ill fated Devonshire Arms. The lovely Drapers Arms continued to thrive across this period - leaving me at times in a state of advanced befuddlement. Partly as ‘closure’ and partly to pass on the lessons learnt I’m going to explore the experience a little here - and perhaps I can also work out what I think happened as I do so.

For those of you who find these posts a bit long here’s where I think I’m likely to end up:

· like a relationship when it doesn’t work the answer is probably “it’s not you it’s me”, but when it does work it’s both of you. In other words the failure was ultimately my fault but success requires great customers to support you and at the Drapers I continue to be thankful for the ones we have

· if you cut the tip of your thumb off cutting lemon in a rush for the very first drink ordered at your new pub you are a) probably not ready and b) you should take it as a sign and close, save yourself a lot of bother

· You do need a little luck, as my father in law pointed out “it’s lucky they didn’t come in the other order”

When Ben and I opened the Drapers we were both passionate about what we wanted to achieve, but we obviously hadn’t done it before. The approach we took was to agree core principles and seek to build an offering that embodied those values. We wanted a pub for sure with great beer and an informal atmosphere but, without endorsing the Platonic ideal of a gastropub, we were determined to offer great food and have professional service - not charming-but-chaotic. We didn’t have in mind a business model with a target market, carefully branded drinks, plans for deals on Mondays… - unlike say All Bar One there was no ideal customer we intended to please. Perhaps arrogantly we thought that if we built what we had in mind and did it well…“people would come” - we just didn’t know or mind what they would look like when they did.

One of my favourite recollections from before we opened is of the two of us sitting down to try and work out the numbers from the ground up…’so that table is three guys, post work catch up - two pints each and one has a haggis scotch egg [yes that was on our business plan], over here a family, haven’t seen each other in a while G&Ts before the meal share a mid price bottle of wine….’etc. We could never get to half the top line that we needed to make the place cover its costs (it’s a big old place with a full kitchen of chefs cooking with quality fresh ingredients..but that’s another post). Notwithstanding that we pressed ahead because we believed in the pub, the neighbourhood and the ‘vision’. We had faith that a great pub would always thrive. The nearby presence of the lovely and popular Albion did not put us off - a lot of people live half a mile from here and we thought if we were good in absolute terms that would be enough. We didn’t worry about the distance from Upper Street - there are times/people when it suits to go out there and there are times it doesn’t. We didn’t check the Islington forum for key opinion formers (is there one?) and we didn’t hire a PR or talk to the emergent new media community.

We were definitely lucky - while we worked ourselves to the point of exhaustion we had staff standing alongside us who were willing to do the same and we got lucky with people willing to come and support us. We got things wrong, we got some things right, we stuck with it. The Drapers continues to operate on the same basis (not so much the getting things wrong bit I hope, more the underlying goals and values) - I have truly lovely staff, we run to the principle of trying to do everything well, the kitchen cook imaginative food and we are blessed with customers who appreciate what we do. Pricing is intended to be long term fair to all customers as it was at the Devonshire and outside of my wife and children the Drapers brings me more happiness than anything else I’ve done with my life.

Ben and I had always talked about a small number of pubs - not a business where we sat in offices and had meetings but one where we could still work the bar in various different places. Why? Because we were both people who liked to be challenged, work hard and build. It was never a build and sell – I hope that the Drapers stays in my family for a long time. Before he decided to leave the business and go to start something new in the country we had already come close on at least one site and had for a while had our eye on the Fat Badger in Notting Hill…. But move on he did and once I was finished getting the Drapers just how I wanted it, with a strong management team and great young chef I continued the search and finally got around to making an offer on the Fat Badger. Which was just before Nick Jones bought the freehold and turned it into Pizza East.

Very soon afterwards I had a look at the ex Gordon Ramsay site The Devonshire in Chiswick. (So like relationships – be careful about rushing in on the rebound). What on earth made me think that I a two year veteran of the industry could succeed where a food genius and industry veteran had manifestly failed? Well I intended to be there a lot and to bring genuine personal care and attention to the site. In my mind pubs thrive either when owner operated or when the manger has an awful lot of leeway to do exactly as he sees fit – see Oisin Rogers at the inimitable Ship in Wandsworth for an example.

The site was by reputation ‘too far from the high street’ – but I paced it out and it’s about 20 paces further than the Drapers is from Upper Street. The High Street abounds with chains of the most unimaginative sort, the pubs on the high street are ok for what they do, but none were knock out competitors in the space I was planning to be in. Nick Pring’s Sussex is a great pub but some distance down to the west. As I understood it the citizens of Chiswick see it as a small upmarket London village – and if it was my village I knew that I would seek out and support the small local gem rather than the generic chain. I don’t know many people in Chiswick and I pushed to the back of my mind that the truly unpleasant man who made the first two years of my first ever job miserable lived in Chiswick – (his name was Nigel). So perhaps – go with what you know of the people by observation not what they tell you they are like themselves. On the surface the social mix is similar to Islington – some city and lawyers, especially for close access to the airport and western motorways, but also media – mixed big houses (BIG) and, especially close by smaller first houses, sharers – just a bunch of normal people.

Making the decision to press ahead, hiring, refurbishing, closing and financing the deal and setting out the offering by myself was hard work. It’s lonely making every decision by yourself and your quality control can waver – especially on the super important issue of hiring key staff. I saw tens of potential head chefs and manager’s – the one’s I hired were head and shoulders above the crowd but ultimately were poor choices. Don’t do it by yourself and make sure you hire the right people. Ultimately you can never guarantee an interview will result in the right decision but trust yourself when you think things are going wrong. We had a field promotion of a new GM and super guy after a week of opening but I had relied heavily on the opening manager and we opened with an inadequately trained and imperfect team that took some time to work through. The food offering was of a quality but consistency was too variable and it took some time to tune the menu to what I wanted. I sat on the phone to Ben one night when I was tired and the family were away asking him if I should shut and start again – I decided to work through.

Notwithstanding that we started a little wobbly I still think we became a great pub. It was lovely inside. The food was getting great plaudits and the small number of locals who did come were incredibly effusive. With the slower start than I had hoped for we were very focused on marketing, more so than we had ever been at the Drapers when word of mouth seemed to do the trick. We hired a PR company, signed up to ChiswickW4 the local website (do have a look at the forum there if you ever need reminding that you are a good person with a real life), leafleted for the best part of a mile in each direction, had a presence on twitter, signed up to toptable for a 50% off food offer. I never liked discounting – I think it damages value and is unfair on the people who are there because they want to be, I like it less now – we would be fully booked nightly but by people who came, had a glass of water and 50% off a main course and then moved on to the next offer. The place felt full but there was no value to it. I am amazed by the quality of the people who offer a matrix of deals on this and other sites. To me discounting destroys value.

It is a terrible thing coming in to work at a complete loss as to what to do next to fix a place. Monday night weekly quiz, Tuesday night no corkage on wine that you bring, Wednesday night fish and chips or steak night – every time I walk past or see a pub that has that pattern I know that ultimately the core offering isn’t supporting itself and, from my way of doing business, if you aren’t concentrating on the core offering 100% then you aren’t being the best possible pub that you can. All the time London is seeing exciting new openings that lead to the ‘what recession’ question and some good friends have had some substantial and very much deserved success in the same time period. But each time I look at the calibre of restaurants doing amazing deals on toptable or turn away another ‘group discount scheme’ I know there are many people finding the economic headwind really tough. So we had customers who came and told us we were great, the best place in Chiswick and that they were telling all their friends….but sadly not enough of them came. Trying to keep staff happy and motivated when walking into a place makes a little bit of you want to die wears you down. Every time I see people I follow on twitter or tough reviews mock or dismiss a place I can picture the tough times that a group of people are going through – who probably put heart and soul into a place they genuinely hoped would make people happy, and are probably losing everything they have and perhaps more. Just a few days before I broke the news to staff and shut the doors one of our near neighbours came in and asked for a menu…he said he’d been thinking about coming in and planned to in the next month or so. I managed a smile, I think, perhaps a grimace….And then the end came, relatively painlessly, staff were great about losing their jobs as I think they could see we were losing the struggle.

The Drapers continues to be the balancing source of joy in my life – great staff, absolutely lovely customers, a good offering and long may it continue thus. Someone has taken on and reopened the Devonshire and I sincerely hope that (assuming its any good) the locals give it a go sooner rather than later – use em or lose em, as I don’t tire of saying.

The autumn and winter season has a rhythm and series of events in it that perfectly suit the pub – and it gives operators a framework for hanging events and ‘get yourselves down here’ marketing messages on. The whoooooo of Halloween; crash, bang, whooooosh ….ahhhhh! of the 5^th of November; lighting the fires…mulled wine and cider (bleeuuuurgh); carols and mince pies; Christmas parties and gatherings, from family dinners to vomit and shots corporateathons and finally the crash bang snog and lengthening bog-queue fest that is New Year’s eve as our exhausted staff thank god the month is over (whilst wondering how they are going to survive New Year’s day service).

And then the barren wasteland that is late winter in the new year and early spring…our customer’s wallets are exhausted, their livers tender and there’s little on the horizon to celebrate. Oh hurrah as valentine’s pops over the horizon, like a piece of driftwood edging toward a drowning man on an otherwise empty sea.

My early valentine adventures seem so very long ago…hazy memories across the mists of 30 years. At a boys only boarding school and whisked off at the end of term to what was effectively a mining town in the middle of Africa where I met no girls there was never a danger of my being overwhelmed by valentine’s cards, and yet walking out of breakfast to where our post was set out was always a nervous time, tinged with hope – and sure enough after a while the odd card popped up. As more time passed the day transformed for me so that, broadly speaking, at my stage in life I think of valentine’s as an opportunity for us blokes to show our love for our womenfolk and I think sometimes we do ok on the day and step up to the plate. *pats self on back*.

But I get to thinking, what about the other 364 days, how do we blokes do then? Well I’ve got a little list of how women fare the rest of the year, and it isn’t exhaustive. Women:

• Are paid on average around 15% less to do the same job as men

• Have glass ceilings and working practices at work that prevent them from enjoying an equal opportunity for fulfilment through work and career

• Are ganged up on, bullied and trolled on the internet when they dare to be smarter, cleverer and funnier than men

• Are depicted in magazines and ‘newspapers’ that take pictures up their skirts, of their sweat patches, underwear, weight gain, weight loss, aging, poor plastic surgery, bad hair days, poor clothes choices – at the same time as being bombarded with images of ‘perfect’ unattainable ideals for womankind ….so there is no woman anywhere who can ever feel un-judged, secure and happy with their appearance

• Are raped at home, at work, at play and in the outside world where rape convictions are at shockingly low levels

• Are sexually abused as children principally in the homes and schools where they should feel most secure

• Are forced into marriages they don’t wish for

• Are subject to attempts to deny them control of their own bodies by refusing them abortion rights including after rape

• Are ‘honour’ killed when they don’t do what they are told

• Are called sluts if they enjoy sex and frigid or lesbians if they don’t sleep with us

• Are called ‘normalised’ pejoratives like ‘bitch’ and ‘ho’ in everyday language

• Are the target of acts of domestic physical and psychological violence that destroy and undermine their entire lives

• Have men mutilate their genitals with the express intention of preventing them from enjoying sex

• Have rape against women used as an act of war in conflicts propagated mainly by men

Quite the list, and taken around the world collectively it affects billions of lives. So, in the round, I’m not that comfortable ringing the tills in the name of mens’ love for women on the 14^th of February and turning a blind eye the rest of the time to mens’ collective acts of violence against women. Women should step out into the world feeling genuinely loved by men 365 days of the year. This year and every year until it is no longer needed we will treat all of our takings on valentine’s as a voluntary donation from our customers to a charity organisation that supports women affected by the violence of men. This year that will be Refuge.

Because there are 365 days in the year, not just one.