Food Served
11:00 – 22:00




Our pub is the beating heart of the community and the very best in Wimbledon. Mick and Sarah are the legendary landlord and landlady – possibly the best on the planet (and maybe even the entire universe) – and they’re all about bringing people together from every corner of life. They host a lively lineup of community events that make our pub the ultimate gathering spot.
We’ve got a super-welcoming vibe, a crew of loyal regulars, a tribe of die-hard sports fans, beers that are cared for like treasured family heirlooms, wines from every corner of the globe, and pub classics with an added twist of ooh-that’s-blooming-lovely.

Welcome to sunshine-soaked, rooftop-sippin’, high-street-watching heaven – the kind of spot you “just pop up to” and somehow end up staying all afternoon (funny how that happens). When the sun hits our Loft, it’s all about ice-cold, sparkle-loaded spritzes and fresh, fruit-packed sips – the perfect excuse to park yourself up top and watch the world go by (elite people-watching, guaranteed).
Feeling peckish? Enter: pizza. We’re talking double-pepperoni, hot-honey-drizzled, cheese-pull perfection on The Pepperoni, and artichoke-loaded, veggie-stacked, full-of-flavour goodness on The Artichoke (both dangerously easy to demolish). So grab your mates, head upstairs, and settle in for a sun-drenched, slice-sharing, “just one more drink” kind of Spritz session with the best views on the high street.
Fair warning: you will be saying “OMG… we’re still on the roof” hours later.




Sundays here aren’t just Sundays, they’re a pilgrimage (the roast-shaped kind). Think just-picked, fresh-off-the-stalk greens, crisping-in-the-oven potatoes that shatter when you bite, and plates piled high with succulent, slow-roasted meat (the sort that falls apart at the mere nudge of your fork). Golden, sky-scraping Yorkshire puddings stand to attention, while rich, silky gravy does its curtain-call pour across the lot. Bowls of steaming seasonal veg are made for passing round (family-album style), fires crackle away in the background, and you get that oh-so-smug feeling of someone else doing the washing up. Sundays here aren’t just eaten – they’re enjoyed, shared and remembered. Come hungry, leave gloriously-full.