The Old Dr. Butler’s Head is named after a quack doctor. He claimed his ale cured madness. It’s dark, wood-paneled, and smells like chip fat and history. Order a bag of pork scratchings. Crunch loud. No one cares.
For a proper East End vibe, hit The Pride of Spitalfields. It’s tiny. It’s sticky. And it’s home to the most dog-friendly floor in London. One regular brings his parrot. Yes, a parrot. It squawks “Gin and tonic!” when the bell rings. I’m not joking.
