Pork pies and Pad Thais

If you are a fan of classic Citroëns, chances are you’ve heard of Roupell Street. At the top of this terraced row there are three seemingly permanently parked classics in varying states of charming disrepair that cause delight among the car spotting fraternity.

80s French automotive icons aside, Roupell Street is what Lonely Planet would refer to as a ‘hidden slice of the real London.’ The houses are neat Victorian boxes with doors painted in varying shades of expensively tasteful paint. It is a beautiful street, the sort that you walk down and ask yourself why you never thought to live in this part of town, before checking Zoopla and realising that these tiny brick houses cost more than a million quid.

Tourists probably think this is where the Krays grew up, and the gloriously old-fashioned Kings Arms pub half way down the street does little to dispel their suspicions. It is a proper corner boozer with stained glass windows and stained wooden floors to match. The beer mats curl at the edges. The bar stools are covered in patchy red velvet. There’s a tatty copy of Viz on a shelf by the window and the barmaid calls you love in an Irish lilt. It’s disconcertingly brilliant.

There are a two dozen or so beers available on draught, decent wines, a welcome absence of flavoured gin, and proper crisps. Not those thick, slick, oily ones that you need a knife and fork to cut through, but crispy crisps that you used to get in a primary school lunch box.

It is an ideal solitary haunt for all of the usual reasons. The proximity to a major station means a stream of transient individuals popping in for a quick pint before running to catch a train and hating themselves for moving to Brighton. “But the kids love the beach and we have a spare room!” An expanse of pebbles littered with used condoms and washed-up jugglers doth not a lifestyle make.

The couple of nearby offices means that it has a genuine buzz at lunchtime without verging into the cretinous golf swinging territory of anything in The City. You’ll never be the only customer, nor will you be fighting your way to the bar only to lean in to a puddle of recently spilled lager. It’s as close to a community pub as you’ll get in Zone 1, and nobody will mind if you sit in ‘their seat.’

But the best bit of this brass-tapped boozer isn’t its decent drinks or crackling fire. Towards the rear of the pub is a narrow doorway - if you are of normal height (6ft plus, don’t @ me), you’ll have to duck as you pass through - which leads through to the second chapter of the Kings Arms’ story. A mixture of long wooden tables and the scent of soy sauce fill the back room, and its walls are adorned with everything from a signed picture of David Fischer to an actual plough. This is Kanchana’s Kitchen, a marvellous restaurant which seems at odds with its location in a pub that looks more pork pie than Pad Thai.

The menu encompasses all of the Thai favourites, along with a few less common dishes which rotate every month or so. The staff are brisk verging on brusque, but the food is brilliant. The rich, salty and plentiful plates are served at lightning speed - lingering isn’t particularly encouraged, especially at lunch time - and cost about a tenner. It isn’t as cheap as Thai West Cafe, but the atmosphere is vastly superior i.e there is one.

The combination of tables makes this a brilliant place to dine alone. There are stools facing the wall, little booths tucked away behind old street signs and Victorian pie dishes, and large communal tables if you’re feeling brave. The staff have no desire to chat and will leave you to eat your slippery noodles in peace. If you were feeling particularly insular during your visit, I’d wager that you could order just by pointing without causing offence. Now that’s service.

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Food + Drink: 3 - Cracking range of booze and excellent Thai food with which to soak it up. The dream.

Layout: 3 - Loads of space for solo drinkers (stools aren’t placed right by the bar meaning that you don’t get in everyone’s way) and the mix of dining tables is similarly handy.

Awkwardness: 3 - You won’t be the only person on your own, and if you still feel uncomfortable, there is always Viz to read. Sunday is different as there is a popular quiz in the evening, but the wall-facing high tables are always still available.

Service: 2 - The bar staff are great but the restaurant staff can be a bit terse.

Convenience: 2 - Table service at the restaurant is handy and there are a few loos dotted around, but to go you’d have to leave your stuff unattended in a Zone 1 pub which is never advisable, no matter how great an establishment it is.

Overall: 13/15

Book: The pub’s communal copy of Viz.

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The Kings Arms

Roupell Street

Waterloo

London

SE1 8TB

££ - not bad for central London, but some mains creep in to the teens.