Hello folks,
as this is a beer blog am not going to allocate too much space to my Dad and his situation. Partly to protect his privacy, but also because, ostensibly, he is neither a beer, nor a pub. I may be 50% beer by now, but Wee Fatha drinks less than me. And his favourite tipple these days is Whisky anyway...
Wee Fatha's mobility is becoming restricted ever more and he goes out less. One thing he does therefore like is just that. Going out. If it hadn't been writ large on his face all night it was certainly clear in his smile in the photos we took whilst on our jolly. That and a bottle of whisky from his untried list was the perfect birthday present.
Wee Keefy picked me up and we drove over to Wee Fatha's around 17.30 to head out to Bakewell, Monyash, Crowdecote, Longnor and finally on to Reapsmoor. WK had worried we may have arrived too early to pick up WF but we didn't leave until 18.10, and were booked in at the Butchers at 19.00. After a well driven trek across moorlands and through dales we arrived about 10 minutes late. Pulling up outside Ye Olde Butchers Arms Carl came out to welcome us, although he forgot that we were coming for WF's birthday, and closed the door behind me - luckily WF's glacial pace meant he hadn't yet reached the door....
Inside all three fires were lit and we got the big table facing the bar. Later diners sat in the room on the right, and as per previous visits, the room soon filled with smoke from the big old burner attached to the chimney - I meanwhile sat as far as I could from the raging fire next to me in case I set alight.
On the bar was one turned round pumpclip and two empty handpulls. The turned round one said Black Sheep bitter on it, but regular visitors will know that pump clips are a meaningless diversion at the Butchers. Much of the time Carl doesn't know what is on. If he does, or even if he doesn't, he doesn't share it with you. The beer was brown and bitter. It was well kept. It was £2.70 a pint, although the barman didn't know that. I had three pints.
We ordered food with Carl sat next to us - he asked WF what he wanted and was instructed that he just wanted a steak with a handful of chips and no veg or salad. I saw Carl write this down. He also said it was fine. When the meals came all three were piled high with chips, veg and salad. Carl said "thats ow we do um here mate, thats ow we alluss have". WF was not impressed but me and WK dipped into his chips and veg and Carl offered him the chance to take some home. Our meals were staggeringly large. As alluss.....
After fussing and feeding Thea and Sadie the two Alsations, WF slid off icily for a trip to the loo and me and WK got chatting to a couple nearby, and had more beer - well, I did, WK was on softs as he was driving. We didn't leave until nearly 21.30 and headed straight for the Royal Cottage. Alas the light outside wasn't on and the upstairs was so Cliff had clearly closed early. This just means that we will have to go back again...
Our final stop (I had hoped to visit the Packhorse at Crowdecote since its for sale, but that will also have to be next time) was at the Quiet Woman in Earl Sterndale. Being the first weekend of the month we figured it would be open, and it was. We found out that Ken is only two years younger than my Dad, and also some info which perhaps explained the food issue we had encountered at the Butchers earlier. There were three beers on and I had a pint of Wainwright, WK a half of Marstons Bitter and WF a half of Burton Bridge XL Mild.
I have observed before that Ken seems to be closing the pub slowly and laboriously, almost by default. He told us that Earl Sterndale had about 200 residents and they had 60 dogs. This makes his ban on dogs in the pub even less understandable. He also mentioned the lack of born and bred Earl Sterndalians in the village and suggested that many locals no longer came in. Disappointing as this obviously is, the beer already told the same story.
WF is no judge of off beer so I forgave him thinking the Mild was OK, the Bitter which is what I think Ken drinks, was fine, and the Wainwright was awful. I mean, I drank it, blending the sharp edges with the odd sweetness as if they were citrus and elderflower, but it was definitely not a good drink. I had to finish on a half of the Bitter. Did I mention it? No. I don't think there is any point. Not because Ken would contest the complaint, or refuse to replace the pint, but because I think its part of the subtle but noticable wresting free of the pub that seems to be happening, more obviously, every time we go. Am not 100% convinced I shouldn't have said something though.
Ken kindly came out with us as WF slowly and painstakingly shuffled off, his immobility and refusal to change somehow mirroring the steadfastedness of the excellent old pub. People in the village need to go in more often if the beer is to be maintained, and persons from outside of the area also need to visit more regularly. This is not going to put us off from going, not at all, it just makes us worry about the day in the not too distant future when we turn up and find the Quiet Woman quietly closed.
Next time I suggest we eat at the Packhorse, drink at Cliff's and finish in he Grapes at Longnor - maybe opening another chapter in our Moorlands supping story.
Your very good health
Wee Beefy.
Showing posts with label North Staffordshire pubs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label North Staffordshire pubs. Show all posts
Saturday, 10 November 2018
Sunday, 16 August 2015
Three different North Staffordshire pubs.
Hello,
after a bit of a health shock on Thursday (now recovered, thankfully), it was nice to catch up with Wee Fatha, Tash and Matty last night for Matty's first trip out to the North Staffordshire Moorlands. As it was his first trip out there, WF planned a less than expedient but thankfully beautiful trip out to show off the sunny scenery, which if nothing else, meant we arrived at our first pub hungry.
We set off around 17.00 and after an unexpected stop at WF's we headed into Chesterfield and then down to Baslow. We drove through Chatsworth then Youlgreave, Lathkil Dale to Monyash and then through Crowdecote and Longnor and onto Reapsmoor. Here, lit by only a single light in crisp evening sunshine, was the Butchers Arms.
On the bar, Carl had gone mad and put 2 pumpclips onto demonstrate what beer was available. Its an in joke at the Butchers, that you either have no punpclips, and he does or doesn't know what is on, or you have one and its something different. This time, the two were Clarks Number 19, which he described as "sweeter" and Island Hopping, a hoppy pale ale. This turned out to be from Orkney based Highland Brewery - there is a link to their website here. Easily the better beer of the two. And quite a surprise to see. Also, a decent price as well - 2 and a half of that and a pint of Clarks came to £8.60.
We were here mainly for food and soon had a seat in an initially smokey back room, and a menu each. The pub is very busy for food Saturdays so we had to order quickly. Me and Wee Fatha went for a couple of Barnsley lamb chops with minted gravy, peas and salad and chips (new pots for WF), while Tash had homemade peppered pork and chips and veg and Matty had an absolute doorstep of a meat and tatties pie and chips. The food worked out about £10.75 each and it was delicious. A great start to the evening. To note, no dogs were in the room when we ate, and more shocking, Carl wasn't wearing shorts! He must be unwell bless him.
From here we carried on and followed our normal route, except for diverting via the Mermaid, the ex pub high on the Staffordshire moors before coming out on the A53. Past the Winking Man, our next destination was ahead of us - the Royal Cottage. We got in before 21.00 and there were two customers already in. I had a bottle of Speckled Hen as I always do, and WF a Manns and Tash and Matty a Newky Brown each.
Despite sporting a recently repainted sign, nothing has changed inside. The bar front is still carved wood, the odd brickwork wallpaper still sits over the fire with old pictures and news reports and details of land sales, Cliff's chair still has the same covers on it, and there is still a Tetley keg pump on the bar. Given that he only ever used to put it on for the monthly folk nights, from two weeks ago, I didn't risk any.
Soon the pub became busy - a couple came in, and sat where Cliff would, and a guy called Martin. The older gent next to us left about 22.00 but three ladies came in who were connected to (but I don't think lived at) a nearby hall. I swear, on a none folk night, there were 11 customers in the Royal Cottage. No word of a lie, I have never seen this except on folk nights.
We listened in on conversations about land sales and farmers and weddings and local pubs, including stories about Carl and his Dad from the Butchers, and me and Matty shared another Old Speckled Hen. However, soon it was 22.30 and we had to head off to Ken's - after all, we didn't want to find him closed. Arriving at 22.44....he very much was. We even knocked on the door but no answer came. WK is camping at the Quiet Woman next weekend, so I will warn him to get back early!
Our final stop was just down the hill at the Packhorse Inn at Crowdecote. Given that it was shut before 2300 last time I hurried in at 22.55 and got served. We had three pints of Leadmill Sheffield Wednesday beer, and WF had a half of Byards Hop Dog - I may have mis-remembered this as there appears to be no such brewery!
We also had a half of Moravka the unpasteurised pilsner form Taddington, and settled down to listen in on a farmer and 2 lads discussing the attendance - or none - at a local 18th Birthday party. The ale was well kept and slipped dwn very nicely as the conversation swung from why we had come here all the way from Sheffield, to what punishment must be inflicted on the younger of the three if he didn't pass his driving test by November.
We haven't been in for a year so this was a good chance to catch up and once again to enjoy a good range of real ales, of which there are four, with plenty of good beers coming on soon. Different, granted, to the older farmhouse style boozers of the Butchers and Royal Cottage, this is still an excellent pub, serving good food and ales. The only snag is, it may not, in fact, be in Staffordshire! Well worth a try anyway, despite.
So, a second trip in the area saw us once again miss the Quiet Woman, which is a real shame, but revisiting the Butchers and Packhorse was well worth the somewhat arduous drive. Having passed so many closed pubs en route, it was also good to see all three doing so well.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
after a bit of a health shock on Thursday (now recovered, thankfully), it was nice to catch up with Wee Fatha, Tash and Matty last night for Matty's first trip out to the North Staffordshire Moorlands. As it was his first trip out there, WF planned a less than expedient but thankfully beautiful trip out to show off the sunny scenery, which if nothing else, meant we arrived at our first pub hungry.
We set off around 17.00 and after an unexpected stop at WF's we headed into Chesterfield and then down to Baslow. We drove through Chatsworth then Youlgreave, Lathkil Dale to Monyash and then through Crowdecote and Longnor and onto Reapsmoor. Here, lit by only a single light in crisp evening sunshine, was the Butchers Arms.
On the bar, Carl had gone mad and put 2 pumpclips onto demonstrate what beer was available. Its an in joke at the Butchers, that you either have no punpclips, and he does or doesn't know what is on, or you have one and its something different. This time, the two were Clarks Number 19, which he described as "sweeter" and Island Hopping, a hoppy pale ale. This turned out to be from Orkney based Highland Brewery - there is a link to their website here. Easily the better beer of the two. And quite a surprise to see. Also, a decent price as well - 2 and a half of that and a pint of Clarks came to £8.60.
We were here mainly for food and soon had a seat in an initially smokey back room, and a menu each. The pub is very busy for food Saturdays so we had to order quickly. Me and Wee Fatha went for a couple of Barnsley lamb chops with minted gravy, peas and salad and chips (new pots for WF), while Tash had homemade peppered pork and chips and veg and Matty had an absolute doorstep of a meat and tatties pie and chips. The food worked out about £10.75 each and it was delicious. A great start to the evening. To note, no dogs were in the room when we ate, and more shocking, Carl wasn't wearing shorts! He must be unwell bless him.
From here we carried on and followed our normal route, except for diverting via the Mermaid, the ex pub high on the Staffordshire moors before coming out on the A53. Past the Winking Man, our next destination was ahead of us - the Royal Cottage. We got in before 21.00 and there were two customers already in. I had a bottle of Speckled Hen as I always do, and WF a Manns and Tash and Matty a Newky Brown each.
Despite sporting a recently repainted sign, nothing has changed inside. The bar front is still carved wood, the odd brickwork wallpaper still sits over the fire with old pictures and news reports and details of land sales, Cliff's chair still has the same covers on it, and there is still a Tetley keg pump on the bar. Given that he only ever used to put it on for the monthly folk nights, from two weeks ago, I didn't risk any.
Soon the pub became busy - a couple came in, and sat where Cliff would, and a guy called Martin. The older gent next to us left about 22.00 but three ladies came in who were connected to (but I don't think lived at) a nearby hall. I swear, on a none folk night, there were 11 customers in the Royal Cottage. No word of a lie, I have never seen this except on folk nights.
We listened in on conversations about land sales and farmers and weddings and local pubs, including stories about Carl and his Dad from the Butchers, and me and Matty shared another Old Speckled Hen. However, soon it was 22.30 and we had to head off to Ken's - after all, we didn't want to find him closed. Arriving at 22.44....he very much was. We even knocked on the door but no answer came. WK is camping at the Quiet Woman next weekend, so I will warn him to get back early!
Our final stop was just down the hill at the Packhorse Inn at Crowdecote. Given that it was shut before 2300 last time I hurried in at 22.55 and got served. We had three pints of Leadmill Sheffield Wednesday beer, and WF had a half of Byards Hop Dog - I may have mis-remembered this as there appears to be no such brewery!
We also had a half of Moravka the unpasteurised pilsner form Taddington, and settled down to listen in on a farmer and 2 lads discussing the attendance - or none - at a local 18th Birthday party. The ale was well kept and slipped dwn very nicely as the conversation swung from why we had come here all the way from Sheffield, to what punishment must be inflicted on the younger of the three if he didn't pass his driving test by November.
We haven't been in for a year so this was a good chance to catch up and once again to enjoy a good range of real ales, of which there are four, with plenty of good beers coming on soon. Different, granted, to the older farmhouse style boozers of the Butchers and Royal Cottage, this is still an excellent pub, serving good food and ales. The only snag is, it may not, in fact, be in Staffordshire! Well worth a try anyway, despite.
So, a second trip in the area saw us once again miss the Quiet Woman, which is a real shame, but revisiting the Butchers and Packhorse was well worth the somewhat arduous drive. Having passed so many closed pubs en route, it was also good to see all three doing so well.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
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