Liquid hideaways

Last year, in a nod towards austerity, I gave up my membership to Milk and Honey, a cocktail club in Soho. I rationalised that as a non-member, I could still book a dimly lit, silver-toned booth downstairs to enjoy their delicious Penicillin — a reviving concoction of peaty whisky, honey, ginger and lemon — at least until 11 p.m. However, as I sipped my farewell M&H dry martini, made with a twist of lemon and some fragrant Junipero gin, it struck me that there is something comforting in having a regular drinking den. Clearly, research was needed.

My requirements were simple: superlative cocktails, convivial atmosphere and within walking distance of home. Life takes on a different perspective if you can stroll through London streets after a negroni or two. As I quizzed friends on their favourite hidden drinking dens, it emerged that bars are like old slippers; they’re loved because they fit comfortably with the drinker’s personality.