Henrick's

Henrick’s is like a BBC period drama: it does not try to expand your knowledge about anything in particular, but it is undeniably fun and comforting. In this odd world of civil unrest, strange technology and Channel 4, we are all in need of this comfort.

This joint is cosy and unexpectedly chic for a bar so close to the family warrens of Bruntsfield. The name of the bar is inscribed above the door in an unfortunately mawkish typeface, which gives the impression of a chain establishment; but this is trickery, dear readers, trickery! The interior is truly charming: comfortable sofas alternate with more stiff-backed, wooden chairs allowing for pleasant chats or lively debate. Instead of being customarily boring, the walls of Henrick’s are covered in wallpaper depicting huge thistles in black ink, which remind you of calligraphy.

Although the font in which the name is set is slightly off-putting, Henrick’s provides all the old usuals, with a very impressive wine menu to boot, ranging from South African Chenin blanc to French Shiraz Malbec. The range of gins on offer is also not to be sniffed at: who knew that Tanqueray Ten existed? (OK, some of you probably did, but I don’t get out very much.)

The service is exceptional, and the staff are charming, even when they ask for identification or are kicking you out at the end of the evening. They effortlessly reel off the names of everything behind the bar without batting an eyelash, making you feel inadequate with your sieve-like memory for things like historical dates, literary terms and equations.

A sign of a good bar, like a good movie, is being able to forget that the outside world exists, so head over on a week day and forget your worries while I try to end this article without sounding like an Aretha Franklin song.