When I was little, fairs were about those miniature doughnuts, eight for a quid, and sitting on lacquered horses while grandparents watched on with glee. In later years, they were about rollercoasters and shooting rifles at ducks in the hope of winning a cuddly toy and scoring a kiss. Then being chased away by travelling lads who didn’t take kindly to our ways.
My days attending fairs are mostly over. It’s just one of those things, isn’t it? How frequently would anyone wish to go to a fairground and shoot ducks and hoops, race digitalised horses or whack-away gophers before they resolve to ruin your day? But I’m an adult now with obligations. One is visiting bars and such to tell people whether they’re any good. Fairgame, an indoor fair and bar, is one.
If I had kids, I’d be there often. It’s a fun concept. A chaotic place of bright lights and silly games: compete with pals to see your clown reach the top of the pole first; clear your grandmother’s pantry with coloured missiles; “Dunk the junk” by throwing neon balls into a series of rickety bins.
This will sound like Marmite to some I’m sure — talking of which, go and buy Marmite’s oven-baked cashews, possibly the greatest bar snack of 2025 — but to anyone without much care for looking cool, Fairgame is a mindless refuge.
Drinking will help. Any number of cocktails will serve a purpose, though diabetics need not apply: sugar is used unsparingly. Still, classics such as the mojito are safe enough, so too beers like Moretti and white wines from Portugal or Spain. The vinho verde will aid any unlikely sorts in getting involved. This is a place for a band of comrades in search of an excuse to meet up or for families in need of a feverish afternoon. Play a round of “Lawn of the dead” — a vaguely sinister form of bowling — and relinquish any need to be chic.
Canary Wharf, E14 and One New Change, EC4. Drinks from about £7, wearefairgame.com
Bar snacks
Henri
14-15 Henrietta Street, WC2, henricoventgarden.com
Two martinis and a portion of fries with 15 grams of caviar? £30 at Henri in Covent Garden right now. A good deal. The collab is artfully called “Fries on the prize” and is the work of caviar producer Umai and Henri chef-founder Jackson Boxer. If you need any further convincing: the martinis at the restaurant are made with Black Cow vodka, the Dorset brand that turns milk into booze, and the fries are cooked in duck fat.
The Prince Arthur
95 Forest Road, E8, theprincearthure8.com
A new chef has taken charge of the kitchen at the Prince Arthur in Hackney, one of east London’s dearest pubs. Now in situ is Will Samuel, who’s serving a menu of venison croquettes with pickled walnut, smoked eel gildas, and hogget belly with salsa verde and anchovy puffs. Perfect drinking snacks, by the sound of it, while larger plates such as John Dory with sauce Veronique and guinea fowl with calvados sound promising.
