The Couch, Soho  

This one falls plumly into the category 'bar' and not pub'; and even then, with its annoying policy of booking tables, is actually more of a gastropub affair. However, good luck eating if it gets as packed as the midweek night we were there - we abandoned our plans to feast there, lest we get bumped by the elbows of the many twentysomething media types swigging back their fourth bottle of beer that hour. So what about the booze? Well, it has everything that you'd expect - shiny fridges, never runs out of ice, bendy straws - but the prices are steep and the staff run off their feet. Oh, and it has far too many of those annoyingly high stools that nobody can sit on comfortably. Even Peter Crouch's feet would swing. We can't help but like the idea of The Couch - somewhere central to have a relaxing drink - but it seems to be a victim of its own success. We reckon it would be quieter in the day, so perhaps try it then, but every time we go after work it seems louder and busier. But if that's your thing, then go forth.