The Red Lion And Sun London

So, you’ve found yourself in Highgate, on the northern edge of London, and your legs are complaining. You need a place that feels less like a tourist brochure and more like the living room you’ve always wanted but never bothered to clean. That’s where The Red Lion And Sun comes in. It’s the pub equivalent of that one friend who always has a spare charger and a story to tell.

A Pub That Looks Like a Cottage, Thinks Like a Bar

First off, the building itself is a bit of a show-off. It’s a whitewashed cottage with dark beams that looks like it was plucked from a fairy tale, but then someone installed a proper bar and a roaring fire. You half expect a hobbit to walk out and ask if you want a proper pint. The garden out front is a trap: you’ll sit there “just for one,” and suddenly three hours have vanished.

The inside is a maze of cozy nooks and creaky floorboards. It’s the kind of place where your coat actually gets warm on the back of a chair, and the chatter is a low hum, not a shouty mess. I once saw a group of friends negotiate the entire plot of a Netflix series just by nodding and pointing at their phones. It felt like home.

The Beer Menu: A Friendly Argument

The beer selection is like that friend who knows everything about music but doesn’t judge you for liking pop. They’ve got a rotating list of ales and lagers that changes with the seasons. You can get a crisp Pilsner when the sun is out, or a dark, malty Stout that tastes like a hug from a bear. I once asked the bartender for “something that tastes like a rainy Sunday,” and she handed me a beer that was exactly that. Magic.

Wine drinkers? Don’t worry. They’ve got a small but surprising list that won’t make you feel like you’re drinking vinegar. The reds are chosen by someone who clearly remembers what a proper glass of wine should feel like.

The Food: Comfort That Doesn’t Try Too Hard

The food menu is the kind of thing you’d write on a napkin after a long walk. It’s about hearty portions, not fancy plates. The fish and chips arrive with a batter so crispy it shatters like glass, and the chips are thick enough to use as a weapon. Then there’s the Sunday roast. Oh, the roast.

Regional winners of the National Pub & Bar Awards named

I once brought my parents here, and my dad, who never compliments anything, paused mid-bite and said, “Now this is what a roast should be.” The gravy is dark and rich, the Yorkshire pudding puffs up like a cloud, and the meat is so tender you could eat it with a spoon. You leave with a full belly and a slight food coma, which is the only acceptable way to leave a pub.

They also have a cheese board that looks like a geography lesson. Each cheese comes with a story, and the staff will genuinely tell you where it’s from. It’s low-key educational, which is the best kind of education.

The Vibe: How to Spot a Regular

You know you’re in the right place when you see a dog lying under a table, not bothering anyone, and the owner is having a quiet chat with the person next to them. The crowd is a mix of local families, book-club groups, and solo readers who have claimed a corner armchair like it’s their throne. There’s no loud music blasting; instead, you get the sound of a crackling fire and the clink of glasses.

One time, I watched a man in a suit argue with a retired artist about whether the fire was “too hot.” They ended up buying each other a drink. That’s the spirit of this place: accidental conversations that turn into friendships. It’s not a scene; it’s a community.

Red Lion & Sun in London N6 | Pub in London, N6

The Little Things That Make It Special

They have a real fireplace in winter, not a fake gas one. You can watch the logs burn down while your hands warm up. In summer, the front garden becomes a sun-trap where you can sip a cold pint and watch the world walk by. The staff remember your name if you come more than twice, which feels like a superpower.

There’s even a board game shelf in the corner, but nobody ever seems to use it. It’s more of a threat that you could play Scrabble if you wanted to. I once saw a couple avoid eye contact with the scrabble box for an entire hour. Peak British awkwardness.

Why You’ll Leave Smiling

The Red Lion And Sun isn’t trying to be hip or trendy. It’s not the place where influencers take photos of their avocado toast. It’s the pub you keep returning to because the beer is cold, the food is honest, and the chairs are comfortable enough to let you sit with your thoughts. It’s the kind of place where you can laugh loudly, cry quietly, or just stare at the ceiling without anyone giving you a second glance.

So if you’re in London and your feet hurt, your soul is tired, or you just need a feed, find this pub. Go inside, order a pint and a plate of chips, and let the warmth do its thing. You’ll nod to yourself, smile at a stranger, and feel like you’ve been coming here your whole life. That’s the magic.