As a resident of north London’s “Guardian Belt” I’m not really a habitué of Barnes. As much as I like Barnes – and who wouldn’t love this affluent enclave on the Thames where, oddly, there are more prams than people and famous actors take refuge – it’s always a faff to get there and decent restaurants seem to be few and far between. Having said that, in recent years I’ve had extremely enjoyable meals at both Rick Stein’s riverside branch and Riva, the well-known favourite of Fay Maschler, Stanley Tucci and the late AA Gill (and when you experience Riva yourself you can see why they love(d) it). But there’s now a third reason for braving the trek to Barnes (which, in the grand scheme, isn’t exactly the mission to find Colonel Kurtz in Apocalypse Now).
Three fellow epicures, independently of each other, recommended The Waterman’s Arms to me; my curiosity duly piqued, I booked a table pronto. Natural word-of-mouth recommendations from people whose judgement you trust are always more meaningful than the marketing ploys of fabricated queues, regurgitated listicles or those less scrupulous influencers who fail to disclose their vested interests (and long may this place never succumb to these).
Joe Grossman, the founder of Patty & Bun, diversified his business portfolio from flipping burgers and opened this current incarnation of The Waterman’s Arms in 2023, bringing in chef Sam Andrews (ex-Camberwell Arms and Ducksoup in Soho) to oversee the food (and at the time of writing the same duo are soon to take over The Shaston Arms in Soho). However, it is still, at least partially, a pub: unlike The Angel at Hetton, The Sportsman or The Dysart (all of which I love but they are restaurants really) you can legitimately wander in for a pint downstairs if that floats your boat. But I was here for lunch and an extremely satisfying one it was too.
So mellow, so modest, I was impressed by this visit to The Waterman’s Arms
Alas it was too nippy on this autumn visit to enjoy the balcony with its vista of the river so the dining area upstairs it was to be instead. It may seem pallid and as featureless as a parboiled Frankfurter, the look and feel more Café Murano than dining pub, but unlike the heaving atmosphere of The Devonshire in Soho, this is a calmer and understated affair. Dining partners can actually hear each other with the soothing music of Nina Simone filling the quiet moments between conversation.
Similarly, there is more than meets the eye with the food. A well-constructed menu apparently always includes classic steak options and market price fish but there are plenty of regularly-changing smaller plates. I humbly submit this is where you should direct your attention. Of the ones I tried there wasn’t a single dud dish; indeed, it was a surprising thrill ride with Mediterranean elements appearing to be prosaic on paper but, like the piano solo in ‘My Baby Just Cares For Me’, creeping up on you and reaching an exciting crescendo.
Starting with a well-made Negroni poured over clear ice (and by the way, any cocktail menu that offers a Ferrari – equal parts Campari and Fernet Branca – has my instant respect) and excellent bread and butter (£4.50, sadly not gratis), these paved the way for a small plate of fennel and smoked aubergine (£8). Essentially baba ganoush, this was phenomenally good – perhaps the best I’ve ever had – with the crunch of fennel seeds on top and a furtive tingling of spice that soon enough whacked you about the chops. It called for another Negroni.
Red mullet, spiced celeriac, yoghurt
Fennel and smoked aubergine
Sausage ragu, lentils, cavolo nero
Indeed, whether it is Andrews himself in the kitchen or someone he’s trained, they have a clear understanding of spice and how to enliven dishes and excite the mouth. A plate of red mullet with spiced celeriac (£16) was similarly next-level but also deceptively simple in its appearance with the colour palette of The Simpsons and delivering as much joy. A huge chapeau to the kitchen here as the subtle spicing didn’t mask the centrepiece: the fish itself was prepared beautifully.
The rusticity continued with a light sausage, lentil and cavolo nero ragù and snowfall of parmesan (£15) – absolutely perfect for the changing of seasons, with the tomato taking a back seat in this comforting dish of braised loveliness. All fairly priced too, though the sides are where things go a little off-piste with a side salad coming in at £8. The wine selection is also quite Old World-leaning with a smattering of New World options, all of which are a bit on the young side. Still, the whole meal, complete with a 2023 Chianti, palate-cleansing melon sorbet and cafetière of coffee (as they don’t do espresso) came to about £80, which is reasonable for Barnes.
While the food was virtually unimprovable, service was not wobble-free. The missteps were like minor faults in a driving test, so nothing fatal, but there were at least three: I was told that the curried scallop was off the menu after I ordered it rather than before, there was a strange delay clearing plates even though the server on duty wasn’t busy, oh, and somehow they gave me the wrong main course. But as always in these situations it’s all about how the staff deal with the errors (which they resolved professionally).
So mellow, so modest, I was impressed by this visit to The Waterman’s Arms and vowed to make the ‘trek’ to Barnes again soon (and definitely to give their beguiling Dry Ice Martini a go). While the service could do with some tightening in places, the food, drink and ambience were just downright pleasurable, creating memories that will stay in my head with no risk of a no-fault eviction (even more so when the Renters’ Rights Bill becomes law). And if Grossman’s first foray into gastropubbery is as good as this then I have high hopes for his revamp of The Shaston Arms in Soho too – having that as a competitor will surely give The Devonshire some pause for thought.
375 Lonsdale Road
London
SW13 9PY
October 2025
