Where to watch the World Cup matches in Los Angeles with pub food

A bulldog wearing a tight-fitting vest emblazoned with the Union Jack and a smoking cigar dangling from the corner of his mouth stares at my seat in the dining room. Next to the dog, a faded print of Big Ben and a commemorative plaque with the late Queen Elizabeth II smiling over nine different decades. Curious about the over 900 personal weapons in every county in England and Wales? There is a detailed sign on the wall.

Robin Hood British Pub in Sherman Oaks takes your British pride seriously.

“We're British, so we have to find the British pub,” says manager Lydia Thelwell in her prominent Manchester accent. He began working at the pub in 1991, shortly after moving to California. “I used to come here as a customer and one of the waiters would say, 'why don't you work here?' The rest is history.”

The pub near the corner of Woodman Avenue and Burbank Boulevard has been a haven for British and English enthusiasts since owners Michael and Lorraine Williams opened its doors in 1982. Both from London, the two met at the Ye Olde King's Head pub in Santa Monica. The couple were regulars at the pub until Michael died of COVID-19 in 2021. Without Michael, the 12-hour shifts were too much for Lorraine, and long-time managers Thelwell, Ali Osment and Julia Eaton stepped in to take charge of daily operations.

Lorraine's original recipes continue to be the stars of the extensive menu. Steak and kidney pie with a flaky crust enveloping chunks of steak and mineral-shimmering liver nuggets in a dark brown sauce. Cornish pasties packed with ground beef and potatoes. Plates of meatloaf topped with smooth, buttery mashed potatoes studded with cheddar cheese. Nubbly Scotch Eggs with ramekins of sweet and spicy Branston Pickle. Thai curry soup bowls packed with shrimp, scallops and clams.

“I don't know where he got that Thai soup recipe from, but it's been on the menu for as long as I can remember,” says Osment, who has worked at the pub for 27 years.

An order of fish and chips from the Robin Hood British Pub in Sherman Oaks.

(Jenn Harris/Los Angeles Times)

The fryer is the hardest working piece of equipment in the kitchen. Whatever emerges from its bubbling oil: wide bars of Icelandic cod; thick, thin and curly fries; wings and sausages, they are impeccably fried. And the person who has been operating the fryer since the opening day is the chef and head chef Andrés Mejía.

I've written extensively about my disdain for thick fries. At Robin Hood, you can order fries on the cheap, called julienne fries on the menu, with any dish that calls for fries. Thin and golden, each fry is the precious, crunchy one found at the bottom of every other basket.

The sausages may be the only dish on the menu that Mejía doesn't prepare in the kitchen. They are made locally at Jolly Good in Santa Monica. Mejía immerses them in the fryer until the carcass takes on an intense, taut, almost split mahogany color. There's a slight but noticeable snap before the knife sinks into the soft, crumbly middle of the pork and panko breadcrumbs. Firmer than meatloaf. More flexible than the average Jimmy Dean link. Plump, puffy and shiny, they are the short kings of the sausage world.

An order of two hits and pickled beats from the Robin Hood British Pub in Sherman Oaks.

(Jenn Harris/Los Angeles Times)

It was at Robin Hood that I developed the British pub version of a “girls' dinner”, an internet term I still despise and therefore refer to as “I'm-a-grown-up-and-I-have-a-free-will-dinner”. I order two sausages with a side of mustard that makes my nostrils sing. A garnish of pickled beets. A salad with extra blue cheese dressing. A basket of julienne fries. If I'm especially hungry, or if the meal needs to sustain a 90-minute football game, I'll add pickled onions and coleslaw. Balanced enough.

Although I can safely take credit for 2% of the 3,000 annual plates of bangers and mash served at Robin Hood, what the pub's patrons love most is the fish and chips. After doing the math, Thelwell says the pub serves 10,000 orders of fish and chips a year.

The fish look like they were taken from the surface of the moon, with a porous, hairy mass that breaks apart. Each piece is served with a cup of Lorraine tartar sauce. It's a chunky, spicy, pickle-infused brew that Thelwell says is so popular that people buy it by the cup.

I have fallen so in love with pub food that I fill my freezer with packets of frozen sausages from the little pub shop next door. At the Friar Tuck Shoppe, you'll find shelves filled with jars of mince, Lion chocolate bars, tins of Heinz beans, Bird's instant custard, digestifs, frozen sausages and sausages, and the Union Jack on mugs, coasters and notepads.

“She called the store the Friar Tuck Shoppe because he was part of the Robin Hood gang,” Osment says. “I'm not sure why they chose Robin Hood. Maybe because he's quintessentially British.”

At a time when the widening wealth gap in Los Angeles seems like a gaping hole, the pub's name, an homage to the outlaw hero of English folklore, seems especially appropriate.

An English breakfast from Robin Hood British Pub in Sherman Oaks. The pub plans to play all of the World Cup games this summer. A Scotch egg with a side of Branston Pickle. (Jenn Harris / Los Angeles Times )

Thelwell says the pub plans to show all of the upcoming World Cup games. It’s already my go-to pub for Dodgers games and Premier League football. While many pubs have an affiliation with a specific team, Thelwell says Robin Hood is for everyone.

Maybe it’s the bangers, the otherworldly fish and chips or the shoestring fries that have turned me into one of Robin Hood’s merry women. Yes, the glorious deep fryer, and a deep appreciation for a staff so devoted to the pub that they’ve called it home for decades. As I chat with Thelwell and Osment during a recent lunch, they point out Louisa. She’s going on 32 years behind the bar. My server, Veronica, is considered a newbie at nine years. Eaton, the third manager, has been on the payroll since 1995.

“This pub means so much to so many people,” says Thelwell. “People have friends here. They have somewhere to come. So we all don’t feel so alone.”