Touting itself as an ‘English pub’, The Tavern is just a bit too neat and comfortable to replicate a brown, beer-stained British boozer. Homesick Brits will see this as a bad thing, the rest of the world is sure to be pleased. Inside, it is divided into two main areas, one with armchairs, sofas and natural light, the other dominated by a heavy wooden bar illuminated by the glare of wall-mounted TVs beaming sports 24/7. Thumping live music – the Friday brunch is renowned for being a lively affair – all adds to the chaotic atmosphere.
It would be fair to say the food is not The Tavern’s forte. Mediocre is an accurate description of rubbery pizza and limp battered fish (that tastes strangely like chicken), while the poor Tex-Mex siphoned off from the neighbouring El Sombero does little to cheer the palate. The extremely casual vibe of the bar ultimately lends itself to the sports-fanatic, predominantly male crowd – certainly don’t come dressed up to the nines (unless it’s the 9ers you’re supporting). But if there is a major event being broadcast, our advice is get there early, as this popular but petite place is sure to be packed.
