Bond's kind of place

The Old Lady Of Threadneedle Street might not be best pleased about the shenanigans going on around her. In the great exodus of banking halls that was a late 20th-century phenomenon, she must have cocked a snook at those young pretenders infiltrating her neighbours' old homes. Redundant banking premises, it seems, make for grand boutique hotels --banking halls, for certain, make for particularly good bars.

This one-time base of the City Bank (built in 1856) has just re-emerged from the scaffolding to reveal a spectacular £19 million refurbishment. All original features have been carefully restored and a 70-room hotel now occupies what was once the administrative heart of this operation. A restaurant and bar now occupy what must have been the grandest of grand banking halls.

The spacious, high-ceilinged and columned room that is the bar at Bonds (appropriately named given its location in the shadow of the London Stock Exchange) is the place that all the City boys and girls rush to at lunchtime when in need of a quick libation - and then again in the evening before their train journeys home.

Its popularity comes as no surprise. There's a fantastic liqueur, whisky, champagne and Armagnac menu, as well as a cocktail list to die for. Cocktails include an extensive list of classic drinks such as Old Fashioneds, Manhattans, Martinis and Side Cars, as well as some house signature dishes that include an Apple Crumble (made from vanilla Tuaca liqueur, lemon juice, cinnamon and apple juice) at £7.50 and a Bond Affair (strawberry and peach liqueur with lime juice, passion fruit and champagne), also at £7.50.

Bottled beers include some wellchosen international offerings, with Budvar (Czech Republic), Tiger (Singapore), James Boag (Australia), London Pride (UK) and Stella Artois which, according to the menu, comes from France (it's brewed in Belgium but no matter). All bottles run in at £3.50, which is par for the course round this neck of the woods.

While on the subject of folk who work in this part of town, I often hear criticism that it's full of, erm, 'bankers'. Well, that might be the case with Threadneedle Street, but their presence is no more obvious than for Smithfield being frequented by bummarees, or Soho by media types. In fact, I had a perfectly agreeable couple of evenings rubbing shoulders with a crowd including the money folk, who seemed to enjoy the cocktails as much as I did.

The Old Lady Of Threadneedle Street might grudgingly approve, even if it did take a cocktail or two to soften her heart.