I needed a decent pint and a proper meal near the Emirates stadium, simple as that. London pubs are a minefield, mate. You walk into one, pay fifteen quid for a watery burger, and swear you’ll never go back. But Brewhouse & Kitchen, specifically the Highbury one, kept popping up in my searches for a reliable spot. I decided I wasn’t just going to look up some vague online reviews written by people who only ever order chicken nuggets; I was going to run an actual, proper ordering practice drill to figure out the menu’s weaknesses and strengths.
The Initial Reconnaissance Mission
I started boring, honestly. You have to establish a baseline. I walked in on a quiet Tuesday afternoon—crucial timing because the kitchen isn’t rushed—grabbed a seat near the window, and ordered the most standard pub item: the B&K Burger. I paired it with one of their core pale ales. I needed to see how they handled the fundamentals.
The process was immediate: I clocked the server, watched the time it took to arrive, and immediately assessed the quality of the fries. Too many places mess up the chips. B&K’s chips were thick cut and crispy, which was a good sign. The burger itself was standard but solid. It used decent cheese, the bun held together, and the patty tasted of actual beef. Verdict: Safe order, but not a ‘great meal.’ If you walk in stressed and hungry, this will sort you out, but it won’t blow your socks off. The initial practice session confirmed they know how to cook, but I needed to find their specialty.
Drilling Down: Separating the Wheat from the Chaff
The burger was fine, but if you want a great meal, you gotta go deeper. I booked a table for the next week and committed to two things: a flight of their own brewed beers and something ambitious from the mains, something that required actual cooking skill. I opted for the Smoked BBQ Ribs.
This second visit was where the real practice began. I asked the server what they personally recommended, stressing I wanted their ‘signature’ dish, not just the most expensive one. They pointed directly at the ribs and the Steak & Ale Pie. I chose the ribs first. The beer flight was educational; I tried five different house brews. The process of tasting them side-by-side confirmed their brewery skills are legit.
When the ribs arrived, they were massive. Fall-off-the-bone goodness, coated in a thick, smoky sauce. This was the first dish that genuinely felt like a great meal. It was messy, rich, and demanded a dark stout. The practice confirmed: when B&K focuses on heavy, slow-cooked items, they smash it.
Then came the third visit. I dragged my pal, Kev, along. I made him order the absolute safest, most traditional pub meal possible: the Fish and Chips. Meanwhile, I went for the other recommended ‘signature’ item, the Steak and Ale Pie. We swapped halfway through to get a full comparison.
- Kev’s Fish and Chips: Good batter, proper flaky white fish. Perfectly acceptable. But again, just acceptable. If you’re comparing it to an actual chippy, it loses. It’s a good pub version, nothing more.
- My Steak and Ale Pie: This was the winner. The pastry was perfect—proper shortcrust, not soggy puff. The filling was thick, rich, full of huge chunks of beef, swimming in a deep ale gravy. It felt homemade, substantial, and truly satisfying.
This intense three-session practice allowed me to confidently categorize the menu.
My Final Verdict: The Winning Combination
After three solid visits, spending way too much money just to figure out a damn menu, I finally nailed down the top orders. If you walk in there wanting a great meal, not just a good meal, this is what you should be hammering the order pad with:
- Starter: Skip the small bits. Go straight for the Giant Pretzel. It comes with cheese sauce made from their own beer. It’s ridiculous, shareable, and sets a high bar.
- The Main Event: It’s a tie, depending on your mood. For ultimate comfort food and quality ingredients, the Steak and Ale Pie is untouchable. If you want messy, flavorful, pub excellence, the Smoked BBQ Ribs are the clear winner.
- The Drink: Ask the bar staff what they’ve brewed in the last 7 days. That’s the freshest stuff, and that’s their whole brand. Trust the brewer’s choice.
- What to Avoid: The chicken dishes lacked moisture and seasoning during my practice runs. Stick to the red meat and the pie.
Why I Had Time For Three Lunch Sessions In One Week
I know what you’re thinking: who spends three lunchtimes in a week meticulously researching a pub menu? Well, it ties back to the mess I just managed to escape. My old job, I was managing IT infrastructure for a massive financial services firm. Absolute nightmare grind. We were constantly chasing server errors, patching legacy systems that should have been retired a decade ago, and dealing with compliance audits that ate up weekends.
I planned my exit for months. Had enough of it. I gave them notice, and they tried every trick in the book to keep me. They offered me ridiculous money, they offered a reduced schedule. I walked away anyway, needed a clean break. They got desperate pretty quickly after I left, turns out I was the only one holding the rickety ship together.
A month later, they were calling me, begging me to just log in remotely for two hours a week for ‘consulting.’ I quoted them a rate of seven hundred pounds an hour, minimum charged hours being ten. They called my bluff, then they stopped calling. Turns out they had to hire three separate contractors to replace the role I was doing, and they’re still struggling.
Now, instead of spending my time fighting broken infrastructure, I spend my time doing things that actually matter to me, like figuring out how to get a consistently great meal without the guesswork. It feels good to swap chasing server errors for chasing the perfect pie. It gives you perspective. So yeah, I’ve got the time. And you’re benefiting from my newfound freedom to focus on life’s real necessities.