No matter the form they take, there’s something special about the hard-edged, emotionless braniac and bright, compassionate sidekick that is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.
This evening, Hope, Haley and I paid a visit to the Sherlock Holmes pub near Leicester Square.
Fun fact: It’s quite close to Heaven Nightclub, where Minji and I reported for Brown Girls Only last Monday.
As it had been when I stopped by on Monday (a Monday night! a Wednesday night!), the Sherlock Holmes was absolutely packed. Lucky for us, there was a restaurant upstairs.
Downstairs, we had caught a glimpse of a Tumblr-style silhouette of Martin Freeman’s and Benedict Cumberbatch’s heads, with quotes on them. But as we went up the stairs, we time-traveled through the Sherlock fandom.
By the time we got upstairs, we were all the way back in 1887.
In the center was the Sir Conan Doyle room. We ended up eating in the Sherlock Holmes room on the left.
What was on the right, you ask? Oh, that’s Detective Holmes’ office.
The Sherlock room was deliciously warm and cozy. After suffering cold classrooms and November’s unforgiving chill, we were glad for it.
Haley and Hope ordered meat pies. Haley had chicken and mushroom. Hope specifically had a beef and bone marrow one. Perhaps, it’s a metaphor for the way Hope sucks the life out of everything! (I’m just playing.)
I ordered a fish finger sandwich. As Hope guessed, it was way better than any fried fish sandwich an American restaurant could rustle up.
The batter was buttery and complemented the brioche bun well. And the tartare sauce with capers? The perfect touch!
My hot take is that the Sherlock Holmes pub is actually too cozy. One fish finger sandwich and I was ready to go to sleep. I’m glad I didn’t have any Guinness.
Even walking to the bar to pay and then heading outside blew us away with more Sherlock art.
If you’re looking for comfort and nerdiness all in the same place, the Sherlock Holmes pub should be at the top of your list.