The atmosphere is matchless at this vaunted and vaulted casual wine bar, one of London’s worst-kept secrets. It was established in 1890 (when Rudyard Kipling lived upstairs) and, thank goodness, hasn’t been refurbished since—look in the front window and you’ll see untouched champagne bottles intentionally left to grow furry with dust. These tight, candlelit cellars beneath Villiers Street are wallpapered with important newspaper front pages from the mid-20th century—the Crystal Palace blaze, the death of King George VI—and the wood barrels behind the bar are filled with port on tap (a schooner is small, a beaker is larger). Everything is suffused in a mustardy ochre from more than 42,000 past evenings of indoor tobacco smoke (no longer legal). Music is not played—not that you could hear it over the din of conversation. Pick a bottle of wine (it’s affordable) from one of the binders and they’ll give you the glasses, and for a light meal, select from a marble table of English and French cheeses or a steam table of hot food. In good weather, the event expands outside along Embankment Gardens. (The stone arch was built around 1625 as a palace gate on the Thames, but its mansion is long gone and the river moved 46m/150 ft. south.) Come down in midafternoon, well before offices let out, or you won’t secure seating.