Simmons, Soho, W1

I haven't been in here for a good 27 years when this was an office local. It was a bit of a dowdy place though interesting in that it would today probably be called an air-rights development on account of the flying freehold above Manette Street. I probably would have gone back if passing, but doubt the chance will ever arise. Oh well...

A traditional looking pub in a tall, stone built building on the edge of Soho, it consists of one room internally, although a slightly separate area has been created at the rear which is a couple of steps higher than the rest of the pub. Initial impressions weren’t good with a very strong, almost overpowering smell of bleach or disinfectant. To be fair they had only just opened and we were the first punters in, but even so it was rather off putting, so we only stopped for a swift half. Internally it’s fairly small and quite traditional in terms of décor. Flooring was wood strip, whilst the lower part of the walls were clad in dark wood panelling with cream plasterwork elsewhere. The ceiling was a deep red colour, and the raised area at the rear had exposed brickwork that had also been painted a deep red. A few stools were lined up along the left hand side with a ledge to rest your point on, whilst elsewhere was tables and chairs. Beers on tap were Original Porter and Roll Out The Barrels from Trumans, Family Stout and Audit Ale from Westerham along with Doom Bar. The solitary cider was Aspall’s Suffolk.

Nice mock Tudor exterior with quite a small narrow interior. 6 real ale taps 4 on during my visit.

Six handpumps, 4 reverse clipped (various Adnams), 1 in use, Batemans XB, 1 unclipped. We waited at the unattended bar for a couple of minutes and, when the east european barmaid appeared, I genially asked where all the beer was? She explained that they were having a problem with the gas. Not for the handpumped beers, surely, I asked. ‘Yez, iz gaz', came the reply. My understanding of handpulled beer dispense is clearly awry! Anyway, we asked for three pints of Batemans &, after a struggle, she managed two. ‘Only 2 pints' she said, ‘Cheerio' we said. Shame, as it did look an attractive old pub.