Richard Johnson: "The church isn't an enemy of alcohol."

Religion has always provided a way out for the recovering alcoholic – and Bug, a bar in a South London crypt, makes the whole process much more convenient. Bug's drinkers-in-need-of-spiritual-succour have only got to stagger to the Methodist chapel upstairs. Everyone gains. The chapel congregation have a super-kool new lounge bar to hang out after Youth Group. It's what MBA types would call "synergy".

The chapel is set on a traffic island in bustling Brixton, where three A-roads meet. And it's like no holy place I've ever seen before. Crime-scene tape hangs from one railing. And a duvet hangs from another. But since Bug opened, on the rare occasions the sun has been out, the pretty gardens have been full of beautiful people in three-quarter length trousers.

The church isn't an enemy of alcohol. The Bible is full of references to wine. And, in the Middle Ages, religious sorts encouraged people to drink beer in lieu of water because it was safer. Fermentation was God's own miracle. St Arnold actually earned his sainthood because of a "happening" that involved an overflowing pint pot. But that's a story for another day.

In the Middle Ages, bad beer was taken as a sign that the Devil had got his dirty hands into the brew kettle. The best way to avoid demonic interference was to have the beer blessed by the local priest. His average compensation was four pints. It wasn't until science fully understood the function of yeast that priests had to start paying for their beer like the rest of us.

I remember Bug as a vegetarian restaurant with ensuite chill-out space. Which I liked. It was voted i-D magazine's best pre-club bar. And Faithless shot a video there. But times have changed. The new menu admits organic, free-range meat. And the chill-out space has given way to a more upmarket lounge bar. I was born before "chilling out" became compulsory and find the new Bug much more welcoming.

I am no great connoisseur, but I did like the music. This is because, I was told, "the tunes are righteously chilled from our lounge DJs". At which point I nodded. Either way, they were pitched at just the right volume for conversation. I understand that at weekends it's a different story – as my nephew would say, who is an expert in vibe, "the DJ's beats get closer together and the crews make hay".

The mahogany bar at Bug extends the full length of the crypt. The cadavers have been moved to make way for the brands necessary for a kiwi martini (gin, kiwi, lime and apple juice), a yellow bird (rum, crème de banane and apricot, pineapple juice and galliano float) and a scroppino (elderflower sorbet and cava). And the charming barman from Senegal makes them all with a smile.

I would award him the Oscar for best use of lime in a cocktail. It was what kept his signature Berry Cherry (vodka, cherry liqueur, fresh raspberry and cranberry juice) just the right side of sickly. From his bar stools, you get a good view of the decadent, vaulted dining room with its candlebras, leather chairs and old oak tables. Just to let you know, I did more than look. I did eat. And it was good.

Bug, The Crypt, St Matthew's Church, Brixton, London (020-7738 3366).