Mr. Philip Norman, in the “Illustrated London News” for December, 1890, remarks, in his “Inns and Taverns of Old London”:
“The faithful journey to the Cheshire Cheese firm in the belief that when Goldsmith lived hard by in Wine Office Court the two friends must have spent many an hour together in those panelled rooms and have sat on the seat assigned to them by tradition. Now that the Cock has quitted his original home, though under his former proprietor” (it must be remembered this was written in 1890, and does not hold at present—he crows gallantly over the way) “the Cheshire Cheese is unquestionably the most perfect specimen of an old-fashioned tavern in London.”
John Cordy Jeaffreson (“A Book about the Table,” vol. ii. page 43):
“But ere we pass from beef to less majestic delicacies, let us render homage to the steak pudding, than which no goodlier fare can be found for a strong hungry man on a cold day. Rising from his pudding at the Cheshire Cheese, such a feaster is at a loss to say whether he should be most grateful for the tender steak, savoury oyster, seductive kidney, fascinating lark, rich gravy, ardent pepper, or delicate paste.”
“Scribner” (“In London with Dickens”), March, 1881:
“These noisy and nasty eating-houses” (in and about Chancery Lane) “are in striking contrast with the staid old-fashioned taverns in the same neighbourhood, the Cheshire Cheese, etc.”
“The tavern,” says Sir Walter Besant (in “Fifty Years Ago”), “We can hardly understand how large a place it filled in the lives of our forefathers, who did not live scattered about in suburban villas, but over their shops and offices. When business was over, all, of every class, repaired to the tavern. Dr. Johnson spent the evenings of his last years wholly at the tavern; the lawyer, the draper, the grocer, even the clergyman, all spent their evenings at the tavern, going home in time for supper with their families. The Cheshire Cheese is a survival; the Cock, until recently, was another. And when one contrasts the cold and silent coffee-room of the new great club, where the men glare at each other, with the bright and cheerful tavern where every man talked with his neighbour, and the song went round, and the great kettle bubbled upon the hearth, one feels that civilisation has its losses.”