LONDON PUBS filled border and share a bottle of champagne. It’s a perfect English day. The owner, Julie Griffiths, flits from guest to guest, taking orders for lunch and offering a choice of tables. “Sun or shade?” she asks, which is not a question you’re used to hearing in England, even in the summertime. We take for a table on the terrace in the shade of the vines. None of the chairs or tables matches; as at the Eagle, not being too matchy-matchy seems to signal that you’re not a formal restaurant. The guests don’t match either, but they do have one thing in common: all appear to be well off, even the paunchy man wandering around in flip-flops and camouflage shorts with his shirt hanging open. In the parking lot a scarlet AC Bristol, a classic British sports car, stands alongside a number of sleek German automobiles. However, there are more ostentatious ways to arrive. “We saw one man arrive by helicopter and walk up the lawn with a girl on each arm,” says Vic Gaffin, who is dining with his wife, Linda, at the next table. Vic and Linda have been regulars at the Napier for 35 years, and plan to celebrate their wedding anniversary here. “I’ve eaten at a lot of restaurants all over the world with my job, traveling to more than 50 countries, and this is my favorite place,” Vic says. “It’s because of the ambience. The food is good but the ambience is even better.” For lunch, I choose crab salad with a glass of Viognier, then ox cheek with burgundy. Bobo starts with scallops and Riesling, then grouse with Côtes du Rhône. The food is impeccable. It’s easy to appreciate why the Sir Charles is also one of those Michelin-starred pubs. After lunch, Vic and Linda give us a lift back to the station. Despite the wonderful food and setting, I can’t shake the feeling that something has been lost along the way. It’s hard to think of anywhere nicer to dine on a sunny day, but a truly great pub can be enjoyed regardless of the weather. As the line blurs between pubs and restaurants, there’s a danger that pubs can lose their pub-ness. IN 1943, GEORGE ORWELL WROTE an essay on his favorite pub, The Moon Under Water. He specified that a perfect pub should have “draught stout, open fires, cheap meals, a garden, motherly barmaids and no radio… The barmaids know most of their customers by name, and take a personal interest in everyone. They are all middle-aged women – Called to the bar: The cheerfully cluttered – and ever-popular – Churchill Arms 62 DECEMBER 2012/JANUARY 2013 SCANORAMA �
BRAASTAD XO is a marriage of aged cognacs from the Grande and Petite Champagne region. Blended and bottled at one of the few cognac houses still traditionally run by the same family. www.braastad.com Walking among cognacs that are this old, I feel respect. Knowing some of them were casked by my grandfather, I feel pride. RICHARD BRAASTAD, Master blender