Arbiter, The

Gastropubs go on and on, opening and closing, opening and . . . The good ones remain, which is where Arbiter comes in, having about it a feeling of permanence and inconsequence that says "take us as we are". Which is no mean pleasure, since Arbiter is full of quirks like racing car memorabilia, a 1940s globe bar and vintage furniture, and for those of a certain stage in life there is instant appeal.

There is simply no excuse whatsoever for not drinking here. The choices throughout the various options are amazingly focused and I had an uneasy feeling somebody had been reading my preferences. But with Baillie Nicol Jarvie whisky, Goslings Black Seal rum, and Timothy Taylor's Landlord this is not the sort of place I would want to have too near home.

Food is good honest fare, with lovely surprises like smoked eel with potato pancake, horseradish and gherkin, Danish meat balls with red currant compote, shepherd's pie, bubble and squeak with poached egg Mornay and Danish bacon, followed by vodka and vanilla cheesecake with winter fruit coulis.

A good place to be, and has that lasting feel to it.