“They named a ski ride after me in Verbier and turned a phone box into a museum for me in Herefordshire. Your turn.”
So quipped James Blunt in answer to one of the mountains of putdown tweets and posts directed at the 51-year-old each week, this one asking ‘what have you ever achieved?’
Since worming into the ears of every British person alive with 2005’s smash ‘You’re Beautiful’, the self-accalimed‘one hit wonder’ merchant has done a roaring trade in poking fun at himself. And also, I discovered earlier this month, in the pub business.
Mr Blunt is one of a host of big names who have branched out from their craft to get into the pub game (my colleague Stefan Rhys recently had a great afternoon in one of Wales’ rugby legends’ boozer). From the outside, getting involved with pubs is not a completely obvious move. In fact, it’s a terrible time to be a publican.
The British Beer and Pub Association estimates that there were 378 closures in 2025, potentially impacting 5,600 jobs. Until Rachel Reeves u-turned on cutting business rate relieif for pubs, many had seen pubs facing a 76% rise over the next three years. Her change of heart has been welcomed by publicans, but the extent of the tax-break remains uncertain. As is the future of a trade that has been hit from many sides, including declining rates of boozing.
While I’m not privy to the finances of the Fox and Pheasant, I’m fairly confident that this pub’s doing just fine. On a particularly miserable January weekend, deep in the depths of dry January, the Fulham joint was heaving. I’d snatched up the weekend’s last free table on Thursday with the contractual promise to buy at least two mains and pay £20 if I didn’t show.
The table in question was tucked in the corner of the room next to the waiting station, affording much better views of my fellow diners and access to the condiment stand than it did space. By my rough estimate, the Fox and Pheasant has 40 covers. If each forked out as much as we did, then it’s a sound investment from Mr Blunt.
My friend and I paid £106 for one starter, two mains, and five pints. Maybe this should be expected when dining in one of the UK’s most expensive postcodes. As a day tripper to these rarified ends, the bitter taste in the mouth left by the bill was hard to shift.
“I think £40 less than that feels about fair,” concluded my friend, whose spent years working in high-end restaurants across central London.
That’s not to say that the Fox and Pheasant isn’t a great pub. That’s undeniable.
The layout is particularly smart. Walking in off the (gated, private) street that Mr Blunt has called home for over 15 years, you’re treated to a tastefully decorated frontage replete with expensively touched-up signage, baskets of blooms, and green wall tiles. The front section of the building is dedicated to the double-sided bar and drinking area. It’s a bustling, cosy spot to shelter on a cold winter’s evening, particularly if you’re lucky enough to score a space next to the roaring fire.
The majority of the dining is tucked away in a large room at the back – a smart move that preserves the pub feel of the front. The dining area is light and lovely, crowned with a conservatory-style ceiling and trelaces of vegetation on the wall.
Concerned about the price, we shared a starter of celeriac tartare with tomato relish, hazelnut cream, and horseradish. “Is it just me or does this taste like they’ve dunked celeriac bits in a tin of baked beans?” asked my friend, who has spent years eating baked beans.
The main packed more of a punch. For me, a Roquefort and walnut salad with chips, for my friend, a chicken, chorizo, and mushroom pie with creamed leaks, and a perfect Mr Whippy-esque swirl of mashed potatoes on the side.
Ordering a pie from a pub is, as we all know, a dangerous game. One too many times, I’ve found myself digging through the crust to discover it’s a lid-only affair. I empathise greatly with the overstretched landlord, but a couple of extra sides of pastry isn’t going to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Mr Blunt’s people didn’t fall into that false economy, but the lack of pie depth was truly shocking. From its highest to lowest points, it was 6cm, tops.
However, the flavours were delicious, the service prompt and the vibes in the restaurant good. There’s something quite aspirational about dining in a restaurant exclusively made up of 6’2” plus finance men and impeccably dressed ladies. Although ending up that strapping probably requires a few protein-rich dinners, finding only one vegetarian option beyond the salads on the menu was a little disappointing.
As was not spotting the pub’s owner. It is rumoured online that Mr Blunt does frequent the pub and, by all public accounts, he has done a good job of running the Fox and Pheasant since saving it from being turned into flats in 2018.
The only hint of the 23 million album-selling crooner was to be found in the cocktail menu. Had I not already exhausted my Reach PLC expense allowance already, I would’ve found out if the ‘You’re Beautiful’ is as much of a runaway hit.
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