Winner, winner, chicken dinner; Clutch, off Columbia Road is the thigh and breast man’s dream. Drag your dirty-fried-chicken habit kicking and screaming into the organic age, eat buckets of the free-range good stuff and wash it down with a  CBD cocktail or two.

The excitable yellow, white and black exterior might be a little unnerving at first, this is London after all and we’ve become quite accustomed to the non-event of a barely-there refurb, but don’t let this ruffle your feathers. Brass, mirrors, communal dining tables, and low hanging light fittings will soon have you shuffling out of your shell. The cocktail bar is behind the restaurant and here's where it gets a bit more sultry with green velvet seating and hints of gold. 

After we'd smashed down their naga fire crispy wings (cooked in healthy-alternative groundnut oil), it was time to roost in the bar. The menu is a literary sensation, especially if you love a good 90s hip-hop throwback. We drank the Snoop Dogg (whiskey, ginger syrup, lemon & sugar) before going large on the CBD infiused Margareefer. If the sun’s shining sit outside on the white cast-iron garden furniture with the rest of the flower market hustlers. Clutch’s Bloody Marys are basically the reason Sundays were invented, the roast, a groovier twist on your Granny’s (shout-out to the epic sweet potato mash) and the after-chicken parties… definitely something to add to your bucket list.