`How's that for a slice of fried gold?'

Just moved in to the new flat and we discovered, quite by accident, a nearby pub ....







For those who are not fans of the movie Shaun of the Dead (the romantic comedy with zombies), the Winchester was the central place in the movie, source not only of the romantic conflict, but also the fraternal love, and is the site of the final stand against the zombies. To wit:

Ed: What's the plan then?
Shaun: Right.
[Cuts to dream sequence]
Shaun: We take Pete's car, we drive over to mum's, we go in, take care of Phillip - "I'm so sorry Phillip". - then we grab mum, we go over to Liz's place, hole up, have a cup of tea and wait for this whole thing to blow over.
Ed: Why have we got to go to Liz's?
Shaun: Because we do.
Ed: But she dumped you!
Shaun: I have to know if she's all right!
Ed: Why?
Shaun: Because I love her!
Ed: All right... gayyy... I'm not staying there, though.
Shaun: Why not?
Ed: If we hole up, I wanna be somewhere familiar, I wanna know where the exits are, and I wanna be allowed to smoke.
Shaun: Okay.
[cuts to dream sequence again]
Shaun: We take Pete's car, go around mum's, go in, deal with Phillip - "Sorry Phillip!" - grab mum, go to Liz's, pick her up, bring her back here, have a cup of tea and wait for this whole thing to blow over.
Ed: Perfect!
Shaun: No, no, no, no, no, wait, we can't bring her back here.
Ed: Why not?
Shaun: Well, it's not really safe, is it?
Ed: Yeah, look at the state of it.
Shaun: Where's safe? where's familiar?
Ed: Where can I smoke?
[Shaun and Ed pause then slowly make a realization]
Shaun: [cuts to dream sequence a third time] Take car. Go to mum's. Kill Phil - "Sorry." - grab Liz, go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all of this to blow over. How's that for a slice of fried gold?
Ed: Yeah, boyyyeee!
[Shaun and Ed clang weapons together]


Mrs. Werbenmanjensen and I are huge fans of this movie, and so when we spotted this pub (again, quite by accident), within walking distance of our new flat, my first response was, "You're ------- ------- me!", and my second response was, "We have to go."

The inside looked nothing like this ....



... which is good, because after two trips driving back and forth from the metal clanking/wet saw zone of Central London to Highgate (more on that later), neither of us was in a mood to bash zombies on the head with cricket bats (ow!), but it was quite a nice pub nonetheless--stamped tin ceilings, loungey sofas, Stella Artois on tap, CD jukebox, lots of room. Not the closest to our flat, but definitely one we'll favor.