The Trading House

Stopped by for a drink, was lovely inside! Paid £19 for 2 pints and 1 half. Service was swift. Toilets are lovely here too.

If you’re anywhere near Bank in London and haven’t been to The Trading House yet, let me gently (but firmly) suggest you go. I wandered in mostly out of curiosity—someone had told me about their famous hanging kebabs, and once I heard those words, I couldn’t focus on anything else. I didn’t go for a serious meal or an important occasion. I went for the kebab. No regrets. The venue itself is something else—a mix of old-world glamour and whimsical curiosity. It feels like a Victorian explorer’s lounge met a botanist’s dream journal and decided to serve cocktails. High ceilings, dark wood, curious artefacts and rich, golden lighting give it that “this could be a movie set” energy. It’s the kind of place that makes you feel slightly fancier just for walking in. But let’s not get distracted. Because… kebabs. These are not your average kebabs. They arrive dramatically, hanging from a metal skewer stand, dripping sauce down in the most satisfying way over your choice of sides (mine: garlic butter fries, obviously). It’s theatre on a plate. Juicy, perfectly grilled, and seasoned with just enough flair to make you pause mid-conversation and say, “Wait, what is this sauce?” I still don’t know. I just know I want more of it. I can’t tell you much about anything else on the menu, because I didn’t bother. I had one goal, and The Trading House delivered. If you like your meals with a side of drama and deliciousness, the hanging kebabs are calling your name.