Based round the back of Bank Tube Station, The Anthologist is an all-things-to-all-men bar, one of a whole host of other bars and pubs in the city that aim to cater to the causal drinker, the client luncher, the cocktail enthusiast, the bite-to-eat-between-meetings worker – in short, the majority of the chattering professional classes that make up the local working populace.
I stopped in for lunch. I have drunk there in the evening, but only ever in a pint-after-work kind of way – sadly, because their cocktail list looks wicked. But I was in the are visiting a friend for lunch, and so suggested it.
Lunch was spot of for what we wanted. Ben had the market fish, which came in a big basket full of battered bits of haddock, cod and salmon, on a mound of chips.
I settled in to the Southern fried chicken burger. This was pretty epic – an entire chicken breast filleted and fried, stuck in a bun.
As you can see, some thought evidently went into presentation. Ben's big basket was a sight to see, and my burger, served up in an army mess tin, was a playful piece of exhibition.
I think presentation is important because it shows that the chef really likes his/her food and wants it to come out looking good and whetting your appetite. But it's also often a symptom that the joint is pretty mediocre – that perhaps the chef has tried to hide his/her shortcomings with a big song and a dance about how it looks.
Fortunately, The Anthologist's chef falls into the first camp. The food was great, easily matching the lengths that had been gone to to make it look fun.
- GrubsterBoy -