During my first-ever bar shift, the landlord told me that the most important moment for any customer was the welcome—and that meant I had to give everyone a big smile when they walked through the door.
Given that I was a skinny, 18-year-old university student, and given that the pub’s clientele were mostly rough-cut builders, that smile earned me more trouble than it did tips. But my experience behind the bar means that, 15 years on, I try to be as friendly as I can to those working behind it. That’s especially true for those brave souls who still dare to smile at every customer who comes in—and I have never seen a barman smile as wide as Louis Bloomfield does. His welcoming grin is like a sunbeam reflecting off a window, catching you unexpectedly in the eye. If I had kids, I’d tell them not to stare directly at it.
Being British, I am deeply suspicious of anyone displaying overt happiness, so the first time I met him I assumed his manner was a coping mechanism for some deep-seated trauma. The second time I wondered if it was genuine after all, and the third time I realized it was probably a wonderful combination of the two.
You see, Louis works in a taproom. In my experience, taprooms in the U.K. receive the widest variety of beer lovers of all craft premises. You get the hardcore local, the just-exploring resident, the nervous tourist, the Sunday family gathering complete with strollers, the innocent intrigued drinker, the nonchalant hipster and, if you’re really lucky, the entitled DIPA chaser. Louis’ taproom, The Experiment, is a collaboration between cult heroes Pressure Drop Brewing and juice merchants Verdant Brewing Co, and is found on a dirty side street in the heart of East London. That makes his bar an absolute beacon to the latter category of visitor.
Speaking as an entitled DIPA chaser myself, I can admit that we are the worst kind of drinker. We get genuinely upset when beers sell out, we ask about hopping rates and varieties, check the bottom of cans so fresh the ink isn’t dry—but every customer brings their own set of challenges, from insisting on their usual seat to playing stroller Tetris by the fire escape. Louis greets us all with that same, never-faltering smile. Even now, at the height of the COVID-19 crisis—when his staff are furloughed and he’s reduced to handing out cans through a half-open door—he was, I shit you not, dancing as I approached.
We go to bars for many different reasons. Sometimes it’s to remember, sometimes to forget. Sometimes we’re happy, sometimes we’re looking to be. But I have never walked into The Experiment in Hackney Central and not smiled within seconds if Louis is on shift. And I’ve never left without a smile on my face after catching up about which Pressure Drop or Verdant beer is tasting best this week, what a crazed beer geek did over the weekend, or how his keg plant pots are working out. Whether his four-bar electric-heater warmth is a survival response to the tough work of being a bar manager, the fact he works in a freezing railway arch, or just a sign that he’s genuinely content with his life doesn’t change the fact that he’s part of the reason we all visit.
Words by Jonny Garrett