The Newman Arms in Fitzrovia has been acquired by the renown East End brewer Truman’s. Peter Morrell has lunch there and enjoys the food, atmosphere and of course the beer. The name Truman’s has been synonymous with the production of beer since 1666 and the site of their original brewery in London’s Brick Lane is still there but is now an arts and venue centre. Truman’s was at one time the world’s largest brewer but changing tastes and complexities of finance saw the name become dormant at the end of the last century.
Perfectly cooked, well-seasoned, high quality beef served family-style with a plate piled high with all the traditional trimmings...Newman Arms is hands down my favourite spot in London for a good Sunday roast.
No, it’s not the Newman Street Tavern, a hop skip and a jump away, around the corner, on Newman Street but you’d be forgiven for being confused by this two Newman-named gastropubs malarkey. I did that old-fashioned thing and phoned to book. There was none of usual Sisyphean endeavour needed to speak to an actual human at the latest fashionable feeding hole and I spoke to a real person straight away. Tick.
Most of the time, a good restaurant is not a surprise. When the team behind Trishna opened Gymkhana, the chances were always high it was going to be another complete knockout of a place, and indeed it was. When the annoyingly talented Robin Gill, chef of the Dairy, opened the Manor and then Paradise Garage, that both of these new restaurants also turned out to be serving some of the best Modern British food in the capital, we were impressed, grateful, even, but not shocked. And even when Tom Harris, Michelin-starred chef of St John Hotel and then 1 Leicester Street moved East to open the Marksman, well, quite how brilliant it was raised plenty of eyebrows, but he'd hardly gone from a standing start. The guy had form.
If you haven’t heard of it, the Cornwall Project is a supplier of the finest produce Cornwall has to offer, to many of London’s hottest restaurants. They’ve since taken over the kitchen at the Newman Arms; a cute little pub in Fitzrovia. The small upstairs dining room is cute and it doesn’t look like it’s changed much from when it was first built.There are dark wood panelled walls filled with framed pictures and ornamental plates; it reminded me of my Granny’s dining room.
What the kitchen has achieved here is remarkable. I used to complain about the dearth of really good gastropubs in and around the West End, but no more. Even with its somewhat restricted opening hours, the Newman Arms has set a new standard for this part of town and it’s a very high bar indeed.
One of George Orwell's favourite drinking establishments (the pub scenes in 1984 are modeled on this place), The Newman Arms is a typical London pub downstairs but a wonderful dining experience on its first floor. Its pie room is small but delightfully traditional in its decor, and boasts the best pies I've ever tasted. Served alongside a fine selection of real ales, it's the ideal place to enjoy a lengthy lunch and then stagger back to the office after a pint or two. Booking is pretty much mandatory given how small and popular it is, and when you arrive you can see why. All pies come with vegetables and roast potatoes on the side, as well as a fine selection of mustards and other condiments. A must visit.
Beer and pie are likely partners in crime for a delicious sitting, and that's exactly what you'll find here. After you are escorted up a tiny and cramped flight of stairs, you will come to realize that the staff are professional and clearly as in love with the food offered by the Newman's Arms as I am. My favourite pie from my multiple visits was the Beef and Guinness containing 'shin of beef, onions, mushrooms, and carrots poached in stout'. As I sat amongst the polished wood paneling and closely clustered tables I couldn't think of a single thing more thoroughly British than this.
Let's talk the Newman Arms. Now we're talking. What a place. In fact, this is the place to get a pie in London. It is good. It is really very good.
The dining area is in the upstairs of a fairly run down pub in Fitzrovia. Perhaps I've been won over, but this run down decor had almost translated itself into charm in my books. The pub is unpretentious and unpretending. It knows it's about the pies, not about wowing you with the aesthetics. So you order a pie, and it comes before you: a lovely, fluffy thing atop a bowl full of meaty goodness. You'll get in there, and you'll get messy. Before you know it, it'll be gone. And you'll look around and think - yes, this place is a bit messy, a bit uncouth. But it really works. It feels like a little, secluded pie heaven amongst the hustle and bustle of London Town.
Screw Flanders.
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