The Garrison

The Garrison has been on Bermondsey Street since 2003, long enough to have watched the whole strip grow up around it — José Tapas Bar, Casse-Croûte and the rest all arrived after The Garrison was already established — without needing to chase any of the trends that came and went alongside it.

It opened as a fairly ordinary-looking gastropub on what was then a much quieter street, and the fact that it’s still full most evenings, on a street now crowded with newer and shinier competition, says something about how seriously the kitchen has taken its own sourcing over two decades.

The Room

A well-worn, cosy pub interior — genuinely lived-in rather than designed to look that way, with the kind of mismatched furniture and soft wear on the floorboards that comes from actual use rather than a deliberate “distressed” finish. Booths line one side of the room, a proper bar runs along the other, and the whole space manages to feel equally suited to a quick pint and a plate of oysters or a full sit-down dinner.

Service has the easy familiarity of a neighbourhood pub that knows a good portion of its own regulars by name, without excluding anyone who’s just walked in for the first time. Nothing about the room has been recently refreshed for the sake of it, and that restraint is very much part of the appeal on a street where several newer arrivals have leaned hard on interior design as a substitute for history they don’t yet have.

It’s a genuinely comfortable room for dining alone at the bar, too, which not every Bermondsey Street kitchen manages.

What to Order

Whatever’s on the daily fish counter is the correct order without much debate — Port Isaac plaice or St Ives John Dory turn up depending on which boats came in that morning, and the kitchen’s confidence comes precisely from not fixing the menu around a dish that might not be available.

Alongside the fish counter, seasonal British small plates round out the table — nothing overworked, mostly built to let good produce speak for itself rather than to demonstrate technique.

If you’re eating with a group, ordering two or three different fish specials to share across the table is the best way to actually taste the range of what came in that day, and the staff are generally happy to bring smaller portions of two dishes rather than insisting on one full plate per person if you ask.

The Drinks List

A considered pub wine list, chosen with more care than a lot of gastropubs bother with, plus cask ale for anyone who’d rather not think about pairing wine to fish at all. The staff are happy to suggest a bottle to go with whatever’s currently on the fish counter, which changes daily and genuinely benefits from a recommendation rather than picking blind off the list.

What You Will Pay

Around £40–55 per person, which for genuinely fresh, day-boat-sourced fish in a pub setting rather than a formal seafood restaurant is fair value — you’re paying for the sourcing, not for white tablecloths or a view.

The Verdict

Ask what came in that day before you order — the fish counter is the reason to be here, and deferring to the kitchen’s own recommendation rather than picking blind off a printed description is consistently the better meal.

What’s Being Said

Genuine day-boat sourcing on a residential street pub is rarer than the “fresh fish” signs around it suggest — plenty of London pubs claim a daily-changing fish special as a marketing line without the supplier relationships to back it up.

Twenty years in the same spot on Bermondsey Street is the kind of longevity that only survives if the sourcing was real from the start, and the fact that the fish counter still changes genuinely day to day, rather than settling into a comfortable rotation of three safe options, is the clearest sign the kitchen hasn’t started coasting.

This review’s 4-star rating has held steady across more than one visit, which for a menu that changes daily is a genuinely reassuring sign of consistency rather than a lucky night.