PintnPizza

Some orders are said so often they wear smooth. 'A pint and a pizza' becomes 'pint n pizza' somewhere around the second round, and PintnPizza simply writes it down the way it is spoken. The vowel drops out, the two words lean on each other, and what is left sounds like a regular giving an order without looking up from the conversation.

That conversation is the point. The name asks for a British pub with a wood-panelled back bar, a row of taps and a roundel above them, which is how the sketches imagine it: two pints on the counter beside a pepperoni pizza on a wooden board. Nothing on the bar is trying hard. The food and the beer are there to keep friends talking, and a name that sounds like friends talking suits them.

The logo plays the pairing straight. A foaming glass and a slice lean together inside a dark circle, with two ears of wheat crossed underneath, a nod to the grain in the glass and the flour in the dough. In the wordmark the little n is picked out in red, a tidy way of saying that the small word in the middle is the whole idea.

The name travels out of the door as well. Printed on a stack of kraft pizza boxes, the same roundel reads as a takeaway brand, the box that turns up on a Friday when nobody wants to cook. A pub, a pizza bar, a delivery kitchen: each would find the name already fluent in its accent.