Lubbly Jubbly

Whether it’s Maltese gangsters or grappa with your espresso, Neil Shestopal claims he can boost your proftis by tinkering with your licence. Patrick Schmitt reports

THE START to Neil Shestopal’s career as a licensing solicitor sounds a little like a scene from Only Fools and Horses, except it’s Soho in the 80s, rather than Peckham. Shestopal – at this stage a property lawyer – was at his desk when a man walked off the street and into his office.

Although it wasn’t unheard of for people to come in on spec with enquiries, this chap was a little different. It turned out he was a Maltese gangster, or rather a reformed Maltese gangster ("he had decided to go absolutely legit," Shestopal assured me) with a clear, if far from simple, aim: he wanted to open an off-licence and it had to be in Old Compton Street.

The outlet wasn’t for him however – it was, as Shestopal recalls, "for a friend he [the Maltese man] felt had been hard done by as apparently he’d lost his job somewhere."   Who this acquaintance was, how he’d lost his job and where it had been were obviously irrelevant to the plan – though you get the distinct impression it wasn’t necessarily savoury, or 9 to 5.

Furthermore, why the shop had to be on Old Compton Street and why an offlicence are also particulars lost in the tale.  Anyway, Shestopal, unfazed by the random request and deliberately vague motives for it, thought quickly and suddenly remembered seeing a place for sale in the very street the ex-gangster had insisted on.

He headed straight down there but on arrival his initial hopes were dashed – the outlet he envisaged was not a liquor store, not even a retailer, it was a rahter dull hairdressers.  Shestopal knew full well the transition from a barbers to a boutique selling booze wouldn’t be easy.

"The commonly held view was that there were enough licensed premises in the area at the time and the police were far more restrictive in their attitude," Shestopal explains.  In fact, if he gained the licence, it would be the first one granted in 20 years for the street.

Nevertheless, he hatched a plan, and one which really demonstrates a somewhat Del Boy mentality (although, of course, the scheme was strictly legal). "I said to the client, listen, let’s enter into a conditional contract for the purchase of this site, conditional upon getting a licence. If we get it we’ve got to proceed and complete the deal, if we don’t, we walk away," he recounts.

Legal, but not terribly nice overall.  However, there’s a further twist to the tale because Shestopal had to invent something unique about the off-licence to persuade the magistrates to grant the licence.  As he says: "We had to sell the proposal on the back of something novel."

And the result was the ex gangster’s ex hairdressers would specialise in English wine.  So, the case went to court, the unusual application was put forward and the licence was granted – a successful outcome based on a simple geographical quirk.

"I’m not sure how much English wine the shop sells now," says Shestopal, giggling to himself. The up shot for Shestopal, however, was not only a bottle of Bells every Christmas, and a litre one at that, but also a shift in his career direction towards licencing law.

"The case gave me a name and an incentive," he says.  This was followed by more breakthroughs in the complex world of gaining and extending licences – not to mention widespread publicity after his next case was covered by Caterer and Hotel Keeper.

It involved a small chain of take aways called Hippo Pizza.   The restaurants wanted to sell and deliver alcohol with food, and Shestopal put together a thorough proposal for the Highbury Corner Magistrates Court to secure them the opportunity to do this.

However, the magistrates refused the pizzerias a licence, despite, as Shestopal modestly claims, having "a very good council".  Dejected but not yet despairing, he appealed to the Crown Court and won – a He hatched a plan which really shows a Del Boy mentality result Shestopal attributes to the fact he had devised a policy document which set out various safeguards, for instance against underage drinking.

 "I had effectively produced a manual and I think the Crown Court were impressed by that," he says.  Shestopal finds it difficult to understand why more home delivery outlets don’t apply for licences, because as he reasons: "Alcohol sales add to the bottom line."

In particular, he has helped boost the profits of the successful delivery company Room Service, which used to buy their booze direct from Oddbins, but now have a premise with their own licence.

This has enabled the company to collect alcohol from a central location and distribute it with food, which is sourced from a range of restaurants.   In effect, it is a mobile licence.  However, Shestopal doesn’t just deal with take aways, and has recently expanded into a new area of expertise, though still based around the same area of law.

This involves extending restaurant licences into full on-licences because, as he points out: "I’ve taken the view for a long time that restaurants don’t perform to their full capacity on drink.  "You see," he continues enthusiastically, "with a restaurant licence as opposed to an on-licence drinks can only be served as an accompaniment to meals.

But there are a number of premises that could be developed in a better way because they are big enough for bar accommodation, for people coming in who may not want to have a full meal or even anything to eat."

Shestopal is not advocating such premises become wine bars – merely that in certain parts of the restaurant you can simply have a drink without dining.  This not only increases the number of customers it is possible to cram in, but also the spend on drinks – which often have higher margins than food.

A further advantage is that the restrauteur can set up a home delivery service that distributes alcohol.   "The law says that if you’ve got a full on-licence, the term applied is on or off – so you can sell on the premises or off the premises," he explains.

Surpirsingly, when it comes to the current state of Britain’s licensing laws Shestopal doesn’t feel the country’s regulations are all that antiquated.  "Funnily enough the laws themselves are good," he says, "they are clear and they have a framework that allows things to generally become more liberal."

On the other hand, Shestopal is extremely concerned about the new laws being considered because it will result in authority shifting from the magistrate’s courts to the local authorities. As he emotively explains:  "The independence of the judiciary is paramount and the most important thing is that there can’t be any political considerations.

 With councillors, well, they’re elected, essentially they aren’t independent – so it will be an absolute disaster."  But it’s not just the desire to change the existing licencing laws that seems to baffle Shestopal.

He also can’t see why "the drinks companies aren’t trying to influence coffee bars to sell alcohol."  It’s an idea that seems to stem from his love of spirits (brandy, whisky, grappa, even Cynar and Chartreuse) and in particular their combination with coffee either after dinner or even mid-morning.

Shestopal is not suggesting that Starbucks dresses up as an All Bar One, but rather that coffee shops should offer alcohol to accompany espresso. "I feel – but I haven’t tested it out, and I need somebody to test it with me – I could easily devise a way whereby one could sell alcohol as an ancillary to the coffee, rather like in a restaurant where you’ve got the alcohol served as an ancillary to the meal."

This approach, Shestopal believes, would "encourage more sophisticated drinking, not just bottles of beer one after another." Indeed he senses that there’s "a whole strata of society out there that’s young and not particularly boozy" – and of course with a large disposable income – that would be extremely receptive to the offering.

The nearest Shestopal has come to testing his idea was when he represented a small take-away sandwich and soup outlet in a tube station which wanted to sell quarter bottles of wine with meals.  He secured the place a full on-licence, which enables it to sell alcohol with food for taking away and for consumption on the premises.

Shestopal’s real crusade, however, is not only to help the drinks industry flourish but also to encourage consumers to drink sensibly and "more varidly", as he puts it. He is passionate about obscure and often unfashionable drinks and wants a greater cross section of society to be exposed to them – a battle that extends well beyond the courtroom.

• Neil Shestopal is a partner of BACI solicitors.