The Exhibit

12 Balham Station Road SW12 9SG
Hold tight London. Fluid has found the best new/old bar in town. Have a pen and paper to hand, you’ll need to take this down. Actually, don’t bother. The less people that know, the better. In fact, The Exhibit is rubbish. London’s worst bar. Yuck!

Let’s look at The Exhibit in an imaginary scenario. Fictious Bloke – we’ll call him Bob for now – is a junior manager at ‘The Firm’. He likes hanging out with Jenny, Jo and Dave from his department. He likes bubbles in his booze. He wants his pint and he wants it pronto, capiche? He doesn’t want to be baffled by big cocktail lists. And oh, a few biggish DJs doing the occasional weekend set wouldn’t go amiss. Bob would love Exhibit A – the ground floor. Down there he can marvel at the huge aquarium and the minor alterations that make it look brighter, cosier and more colourful than before.

Secretly, Bob has eyes on the bigger prize and starts to work a little harder. A few months later he gets promoted into middle management. He starts calling himself Robbie and ditches his old pals on the ground floor. Now, he’s hanging out with Victoria, Michael and Penelope, the heads of Finance, HR and Sales. He craves seclusion and a wine list that covers every varietal. He wants chill out music and oil candles. He wants dim lighting. He wants unusal menu entries like ‘venison haunch’. With this in mind, he looks to Exhibit B – the first floor restaurant. Here, he tells his new friends that a glass of the light, teasing Tramonto is perfect as an aperitif, especially in summer and especially as the literal translation means ‘sunset’. Later, he’ll be able to coerce them into bypassing the dessert in favour of the cheese platter. This is so they can order a variety of digestifs instead. Their sweetness usurps the accompanying chutney for flavour enhancement. Robbie’s created a talking point and loves how they seem so very impressed.

But Robbie is still not entirely satisfied. He wants upper class. He doesn’t want a waitress to ask for his order, he wants a bar tender to teach and recommend. He wants extreme intimacy. He wants it even darker. He wants blinds and tinted windows, windows of opportunity, that he can look through at the sad despondent faces on the busy platform across the way. He’ll think to himself “it’s great being me, in here, and not them, out there”. Sure enough, he gets lucky and lands a partnership at ‘The Firm’. Victoria, Michael and Penelope are gone. Now, he’s out with Astrid and Jemima, the boss’s daughters and he’s calling himself Roberto, because that’s what his Italian forefathers would’ve wanted. Now, he on Exhibit C – the second floor. Here, Roberto can really come into his own. Up here he’s surrounded by jaaaaazzzzzzz. He likes the ‘no standing room’ policy and the way it makes it feel like a members bar without actually being so. He likes how they keep his personal glass behind the bar. He likes that there isn’t a cocktail list, but a tasting menu. He likes that the cocktails are still cheap, considering the quality. He likes that he doesn’t have to venture into the West End for a superior cocktail because they have an additional ‘Stolen Drinks’ menu which was pilfered by the bar manager when he worked for Trailer Happiness, Milk & Honey and Lab. Roberto will be pleased with himself because his guests will be suitably amazed.

What Roberto doesn’t know is that there is yet MORE to The Exhibit. There’s the 24-seat movie theatre on the top floor as well which comes with waiter service and recent movies (tip: £16 will get the movie plus a two-course meal. Even the Electric doesn’t do that). There’s also weekly comedy and a summer plan to make the side garden into a beach bar by shipping in several tons of sand. Basically, this is pure escapism on EVERY level.

Recommended: if you are an agoraphobic with a split personality. Having three venues in one big Lego block should help clear that up.

Avoid: only if you live far away. Like, in the Gobi Desert.