Category Archives: Beer

Birdwatching

My feeble attempt at doing some shopping in Nottingham hasn’t exactly been productive. However, my (vegetarian/vegan) pint of Magpie Best in the Crafty Crow is quite delicious.

Apparently, this pub, run by the Magpie Brewery, is the big brother of the Doctor’s Orders micropub. 

It’s rare to find unfined beer on hand-pull, so I’m hoping I come across their beer at home. 

While I’m here, I may as well sample the cherry breakfast stout. 

Addendum: the cherry stout is smokey and fruity, very nice. 

Addendum II (is that allowed?): Following a filmed pancake interview, the pub staff took pictures. 

Doctor’s orders

I’m in transit to meet my second in command, well having a sit down while on my way to meet my second in command. In the Doctor’s Orders, a very nice micropub just outside Nottingham city centre. 

I’m having a lovely pint of Magpie IPA. Earlier, I stopped off at a Wetherspoon’s, by the canal. For coffee. 

I last called into that bar in 2005, when I was here for an Eels gig. We’d almost stole a table number (for the kitchen table), but conscience (and security cameras) deterred the theft. 

Last night, we visited Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem. 

Allegedly the oldest pub in England. The only pub built into a cave I’ve ever been in. 

The demise of the working men’s club

High Fell social club, just down the road to us, closed a while ago and has since been converted into flats. I’d never set foot inside the place, but I do recall a time when such places were a (bustling) social centre in most northern towns. Social clubs had their problems, of course; they were inherently sexist until recent years and most simply haven’t kept up with the times. 

A couple of years ago, I visited Kings Cliffe ex-servicemen’s club. I can’t say it was very busy, but a band was playing and the evening must have been reasonably  profitable. 

There was a second visit last night. 

It wasn’t a busy night. 

But at least they now have a decent selection of Sam Smith’s beer. At a very reasonable £2.20 a pint. 

Alas, probably not for much longer. Surely the place can’t survive much longer. 

Health Service

I went to see the dentist today; for a filling. When I was seated in the chair, she asked whether I would like anaesthetic. Or not. 

On observing my expression of sheer terror, she said that I could try a filling without an injection, but that I could signal for anaesthetic should I experience any discomfort. Since my new dentist is a five foot tall twelve year old, I felt it necessary to feign courage and decline the injection. 

She then pointed out that I only had to raise an arm if I needed her to stop. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop myself from assuring her that, if I felt pain, I’d wave both arms in the air. 

And it didn’t hurt at all. Which meant that the experience was over very quickly. Much to my second in command’s surprise (she’d been in the dentist’s chair for forty minutes or so). 

Since I’d decided not to return to work, I went home to for lunch. Acknowledging that a trip to the dentist must be followed by a pint of beer, I had a walk to town, via the chemist. My visit to the chemist was non-tooth related; I needed to pick up stronger blood pressure medication. Yes, sadly my new drugs aren’t quite working as well as expected, so the strength needed to be increased. Once more my argument that I have a superhuman, highly evolved and efficient, vegan heart failed to persuade my doctor that I don’t need medication. 

While in Boots, waiting for the pharmacist to finish a consultation with a terminally ill man (he seemed to have a cold), I noticed the steady trickle of young men who appeared to be queue-jumping by securing service via a secret door. And then I observed one young man tear open his prescription bag, remove a small bottle and drink the contents in a couple of gulps. Ah, methodone. 

After my prolonged stay in Boots, I had a walk down to Station East, where I had a very nice pint of Budvar. 

Followed by the Central and an excellent Out There beer. I realise that’s two pints, rather than a usual single post-dentist pint, but there are reasons to make an exception. 

1. The post-dental pint traditionally occurs in the Isis (or Ship Isis, depending on which variant of the name you prefer), in Sunderland. The need for my second in command to return to work necessitated my post-dental pint taking place in Gateshead. 

2. The additional stress endured when the no anaesthetic option was presented to me could not be allieviated by a single pint of beer. 

3. There’s a direct correlation between the amount of beer I drink and reduced blood pressure. 

Oh, I did say I was walking to town didn’t I? The Box Social it is then. 

And why is it so commonly referred to a dentist’s chair, when the dentist isn’t the one in the chair?

Fanny’s Ale House

While my resolve was strong, I was drawn into Fanny’s Ale House. An amazing choice of beer (Berliner Pilsner for me) and a great fire. 

And a link to the Northeast too. 

And some blokes playing guitars and ukeleles upstairs. 

Yes, Saltaire’s ok. 

The Hop

Appearances can very much be deceiving. I’d noticed the Hop, but from a distance it looked nasty; all glass and neon. But the barman in the Cap and Collar told me I’d get a nice beer and something to eat there. 

I also had a conversation with said barman about how the bar (the Cap and Collar) resembled one in Town. He asked whether I was referring to the Split Chimp. To say I was surprised is something of an understatement. It transpired that he’d never been in the Split Chimp, but had heard of it because it was the first micropub in Newcastle. It’s funny how word gets around. 

Anyway, I’m now in the Hop with a very nice pizza. Thoughts of a fourth beer are quickly fading. 

Saltaire

I generally try to avoid staying overnight for work, but there wasn’t a lot of choice today. Without the company of colleagues. In Shipley. 

And that pretty much sums it up. I’m seriously unimpressed with Shipley. No, that’s a little strong. I’ve been here a few times, but haven’t needed to stay over before. It’s a nice enough place in daylight; the canal’s quite pretty and there are some really nice Victorian buildings. 

But, after a shower, I decided on a beer before finding somewhere to eat (nothing vegan in the hotel). I wandered into the House that is a home (it might not really be called that, I didn’t stay long enough to take note). A lovely old building, it was horrible inside. 

So I walked to Saltaire. Where I stumbled across the Cap and Collar, a craft beer bar. It’s small, but the barman understood my request for unfined beer. And I’d barely sat down with a pint when Elbow’s one day like this  was played on the radio. The place resembles the Box Social in Town too, so I’m feeling quite at home. 

I spotted another couple of decent looking pubs on my walk; there’s one next door. Which means I can have another beer or two on my way back to Shipley. 

Blackburn II

Well, we’re now back in Blackburn. We’d have returned later, but there’s work on the line tonight and, if we’d not caught this train, we’d have had a replacement bus service – two hours later. 

Anyway, I now have a bottle if Tucher. In Blackburn. 

I may never be critical of Preston again. 

King Cobra

Ok, so most people will have a bottle of Tiger or Cobra in a restaurant with a curry. I have one of those. 

Well, I have a Cobra. But not just any old Cobra. I have King Cobra. It’s slightly dangerous at 8%, but it does taste rather nice. 

The food is quite good too.

Expensive

This is quite possibly the most overpriced beer ever (purchased at Peterborough station). 

I wonder whether the ridged design of the can means that three times as much metal is used in production. 

Or is the special shiny-ness achieved by intensive hand polishing? Or, perhaps, the can is actually silver plated. And the paint is really enamel. 

Even if all of the above were true, £2.99 a can is a bit over the top.