The Devonshire Arms, Kensington

The leafy backstreets of Millionaire’s Row in West London are a delight to explore and get lost amongst.

To drink in ‘how the other half live’ and take in the architectural splendour of the tree lines avenues is only rivalled by the anticipation of a restorative libation in their many hostelries. Unlike traditionally poor working class East London, where there have been hundreds of pub closures, more pubs survive here in affluent West London. Corner pubs dripping in foliage are an enchanting element of the local areas DNA.

Nestled on a corner amongst housing stock that can only be marvelled The Devonshire has been serving local patrons and visitors to the area since 1851. Although its had a modern twist added in recent years everything you’d expect to see and experience in a West London hostelry is prevalent here. An afternoon or evening whiled away in this gorgeous corner pub or its charming front garden is one of those delights that make exploring different parts of London so very special.

The interior is high end but natural and effortless. The elegance and space of the high ceilings, chandeliers, gleaming wooden floors and exposed brickwork match the grandeur of its local environment.

A real hit for me is the multiple high stools. Although not located around the bar in times of Covid and certainly of a plusher standard than in say the Hungerford Arms. a locals wet led boozer on Commercial Road E1, they were very welcomed. Many high end gastro pubs immediately jettison stools to try to make the experience fully gastro and, in some cases, to try to engineer drinkers to go and imbibe elsewhere. Some social commentators’ believe this to be a form of social cleansing; pricing out less desirable old school more working class locals, who have kept a pub going for decades, in favour of a more well heeled and affluent clientele. I’m pleased to report that is not the case here which I applaud.

After a quick glance at the menu the Pork Belly was ordered. £16 is about what you’d pay on a Sunday in most places and in bourgeoisie West London this felt competitive. I can safely say it was delicious, took me under five minutes to demolish and was worth every penny. I’d go out on a limb and perhaps wonder if it’s the finest I’ve ever tasted.

The Devonshire is one I’ll be heading back to, when hopefully the world is more normal and we can join our mates in the pub again. It was brass monkeys on my visit in late 2020 but that front garden is a sweet spot to linger over leisurely pints and snacks on warm afternoons when we are permitted to again.

The quiet backstreets and their glorious taverns are calling.