The Park Tavern

I heard the town was all-abuzz: a new pub, one fit for middle class
sensibilities; I had to have a look. I visit all the pubs in Eltham
once a year, on Christmas Eve; out of a sense of duty, you understand.
The Park Tavern always got a 'decaying tawdry' mark. Now ladies were
going for lunch (I have to say 'ladies', because, in the pub business,
'ladies' is a technical term, used to distinguish them from 'women',
which is not just a technical term, but also a euphemism).

My first visit was a lunchtime, and, indeed, there was a large table
of ladies who were lunching.  These were clearly having a good time.
"The food's quite good", they said, when I asked them.  It was the
'quite' which impressed me: clearly a considered opinion.  I couldn't
resist asking: "do you come here often?"   Apparently they were all
retired, and it was a regular lunch club: clearly a pub with a
difference.

The Park Tavern had been closed for some months.  The previous tenant,
burdened with who-knows-what, had melted into the night, "done a
runner", as the natives put it.  After months of building work, it
reopened as something completely different.  Steve, the new tenant,
summed up their policy very succinctly: "Antique furniture and
classical music", he said, "and a good kitchen, serving good food."

The Park Tavern runs six real ales, three less usual lagers (including
Leffe), and a scrumpy cider (or 'cloudy cider' as those marketing
people, ever determined to confuse the cognoscenti, have renamed it).
The beers were all in tip-top condition, as was the scrumpy; I can't
speak for the lagers, I don't drink 'filthy foreign muck' (sorry –
cold/bottom-fermented beer).  Actually, I did drink Leffe once, in
France, and the trauma remains with me to this day.  The ales change
regularly, I'm told, always well-known breweries.  The drinkers at the
bar discussed the qualities of their favourites.  They agreed with me
about their condition.

I can't personally comment on the food, I didn't partake.  But those
who did spoke highly of it.  The ladies lunch club did have one moan:
they thought it took too long to serve.  Now that I know about: "don't
order in eights and tens", I said, "this isn't the Savoy.  There will
be one person in the kitchen and no holding area.  You can all eat
together, or eat when it's hot."  (I like educating women.  Sorry, I
mean 'ladies'.)
       I think the Park Tavern must be unique: someone has re-invented
the saloon bar; and about time too.