The One Tree Bar

The waiting is over

Speculation has been in the air for months. “Oh no, not another effing Falatehan clone”, is the universal groan. The bar + pool + sports + music formula that’s damn’ near ruined the street for many of the regulars is a real and looming possibility. Then the word trickles out that it isn’t going to be a lookalike, but a traditional pub-resto with its own style and character. “Ho hum, heard that one before!” is my jaded reaction.

So when I get the now-standard SMS welcome to a preview opening I dutifully go along – lured, it must be confessed, as much by the temptation of free beer as anything else. The first thing that strikes me is the frontage – a solid stone fascia, with two large windows and a glass-paned door. Here’s the view looking up the street from the Oscar end.

Here’s the doorway. It sets the tone for the place; solid and functional, yet at the same time beckoning and reassuring. “This is one serious pub!” is my feeling as I approach the door.

Peering through the window confirms my first reaction. This is a breath of fresh air on the street – a real “what you see is what you get” place. The windows remove the barrier between street and bar, and make the pub an organic extension of the road outside.

As I walk up to the door it’s swung open by a trio of absolutely charming girls, and I’m ushered in with winning smiles from all three of them.

And so into the bar, which exudes a welcoming warmth of colour and a subtle auburn aura. The photos don’t exaggerate – the warm tones are for real. The reason is soon clear to see – wood. Wood everywhere. Wooden floor, wood-paneled walls, wood furniture, and a wooden bar. And not that anaemic, namby-pamby stuff that so much modern furniture is hurriedly knocked together from, but a ruddy, chestnutty, deep-grained hardwood.

Not only the quality of the lighting is affected by all this wood, but the timbre (apt word indeed!) of the very sounds in the bar as well. And it must be said that the atmosphere of the place is palpably comfortable; it’s a bit like slipping into a long-worn jacket, or an old pair of shoes. The smell of real wood is something sadly lacking nowadays, and in One Tree there’s that faintly musky smell you get in old pubs and bars back in Europe.

I particularly like the lighting. Above the bar are smaller versions of those half-globe lights that used to be standard issue on the old British Railways station platforms – an original touch that adds a nice bit of class to the bar, which they bathe in a warm gentle light.

At the far end of the bar is the kitchen, which follows the style of open-view that’s set by the entrance. And it’s a serious kitchen, a real trencherman’s kitchen. Sturdy grills and ovens stand imposingly in close rank order, clearly designed for cooking solid, tasty, nourishing fodder. My mouth waters in mere anticipation of the platefuls of food that I’ll no doubt be consuming in here.

Here’s the bar-end view. And just look at that bar! It’s precisely the right height and depth to lean on as you chat to your mates; a comfortable and welcoming bar-top.

And the chairs! Chairs with style, chairs with purpose, chairs with a mission. Not the tottery bar-stools or sagging sofas of the other hostleries, these. No, they’re craftsman-made in the European tradition; chairs to ease yourself into, and rest your body as you tuck into a solid meal and quaff your ale. And the tables! Firm and functional, just the right size for two or three guys to rest their elbows on and chat away the evening in convivial comfort.

I enjoy a couple of drinks and a chat with Sake, who’s got a major stake in One Tree and is the boss of Everest, just up the street. I ask him the sixty-four thousand dollar question: “What’s with the pub name, Sake?” He points to the open area between the bar and the kitchen, and says “Well, we’re going to put a tree there. Just one. That’s why it’s called One Tree.” So there’s no profound symbolism involved, no metaphysical conundrum, just a plain fact that there’ll be one tree in the pub.

Sake stresses that there’s still a lot of work to do on the place, and that this is a sneak preview before it’s properly finished. I reply that it’s already looking splendid, and that I’m really looking forward to seeing it in all its glory. Yes, this is my kind of pub. It really is different from the other bars, and will be a regular stopping-off point in my future sorties down the Blok. An unreserved “Well done, and thumbs up!” from the Reveller to the Blok’s latest venture.

And then it’s time to leave. As a parting picture, here’s the entrance seen from the bar.

My message to all you revellers out there is to put One Tree firmly on your nightly carousing schedule, and help to make the place the resounding success that it fully deserves to be. Well done, Sake and company!