Good day,
I wanted to cobble together some half remembers facts about recent sessions and other visitations to local pubs. As always, facts are at best interpretative and often guessed at, some details will be plain erroneous, but the opinions expressed are genuine. After all, I don't have to remember opinions...
I have recently spent quite some time in the Three Tuns - indeed, this is where, whilst drinking with Tash, Matty and Richard at the beginning of the month, I discovered I had run out of funds...ha ha! The joy. We had been drinking the excellent Blue Bee Mango Number 5, a naturally hazy Mango IPA at 5%, which was on sparkling form. Other sessions here included one drinking West Pier by Brighton Bier Co, which was once again brilliantly hoppy, Blue Bee Oceanic Red, and their American Five Hop beer, numbered between 11 and 15684.
My last visit was en route to Shakespeares, and having seen Nate and Siobhan and the lovely Dave behind the bar, I was relaxing in the right hand part with Matty waiting for Tash to arrive, when who should turn up but the Ale Ambler. It was good to see the AA, and to briefly meet Tara and another lady from Mallinsons brewery, along with a young man with an A in his name from Huddersfield. Thanks for the pints AA!
Last night I had a proper session in the Bath Hotel. The wonderful Hopjacker Spanish Prisoners, a 5.9% Amber ale with Spanish marmalade in it, was on sale, and it seemed silly not to have five or six pints. So I did. The walk up West Street had featured numerous groups of entirely hammered men shouting abuse at one another and other random people so the Bath was a haven of almost tranquility. The excellent Hops and Dreams from Brew Foundation was also on on keg, although I did not try it.
In the past month I have been in the Hillsborough Hotel a few times. Once was with Matty after work when he was off and we had a good couple of pints of excellent but difficult to remember the name of beer, probably pale and hoppy, and very likely brewed locally. My next visit saw me pop in on a lovely sunny evening after work. There were only a few of us in and I supped another similarly obfuscately named beer which I enjoyed. Its a lovely place to relax in an evening and the beers are competitively priced as well. My last visit was last weekend with Tash en route to town where we sat outside, and then in as the sun went down, supping a beer which was made with beer. There is no point my even attempting to recall what it was alas.
A couple of weeks ago I met up with Fluffy and John in the Tap and Tankard after Fluff had run the Sheffield half marathon. The Brew Foundation hops and dreams was on as a guest and in excellent form, so I had two pints in a short period of time. Afterwards we went to the Tuns for pints of Blue Bee before the Shakespeares and the Kelham Island Tavern.
This is somewhere I have been a few times recently as well. I remember going in with Matty and he had a pint of the 6.5% North Riding Anniversary beer and I a half of the Mikkeler Nuclear Hop at 8.0% on keg. Both beers were in impeccable condition, as were those that me and Tash tried recently, including pints of another North Riding beer and a Kernel beer on keg.
After which we went somewhere I have been in a tremendous lot this month - Shakespeares's. They have recently featured three or more Kernel beers, Simcoe, Cascade and a stupendous one with four hops in it, Ella, Simcoe, Centennial and Citra if memory serves. Other favourites have included the Cloudwater Black IPA on cask at 6.5% or similar, which was incredibly mellow but still a hoppy IPA at its heart, and the amazing Buxton Trolltunga Gooseberry sour pale ale on keg. Not sour enough if you love sour or hoppy enough if you are a hophead, instead a mesmerising blend of sour and bitter refreshment which went down superbly.
I went in with Dave H from work recently and we started sensibly on pints of Blackjack Devils's something, a 5ish percent pale, then slowly moved onto slightly less sensible options, including the last bottle of Schlenkerla dubbel rauchbier, a Cloudwater DIPA3, a Trappist Rochefort 10 as well as one of the Kernel pales on keg. A very enjoyable night was had by all, including Emily, who joined us half way through at a quite thirsty stage.
I will be paid on Friday so the week after next should be refreshing, in the meantime am having to cut back as have no more furniture to sell to fund supping. Drinking eh - what does it mean?. Like memories, we'll never know.
Hic!
Cheese
Wee Beefy
Showing posts with label Session drinking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Session drinking. Show all posts
Sunday, 24 April 2016
Sunday, 27 December 2015
A Monday night in the bath. Hotel.
Now then,
less than a week ago I met Tash in town after work. It was a Monday night, and Christmas was fast approaching. The previous night we had been in the Rutland til late drinking and moshing after seeing a fillum at the picture house. Tonight we were meeting to enjoy a coffee. I didn't meet Tash until gone 19.00 and we'd both had a hard day. No prizes for guessing which decision we made then, about where to go...
I mean, am sure the Bath Hotel could have done us a coffee, but we didn't really want one. And when we got in Sheffield's only National Inventory pub and saw a Cloudwater Extra Special IPA on cask on the bar, it frankly seemed silly to have a hot drink. The Cloudwater IPA was 7.2% and on at what is a very reasonable for the Bath £4.20 a pint. I set up a tab, got us a seat and ordered two pints. We then spent a short time drinking and catching up with the staff. Followed by another short time....
Mark was working and possibly Paul. We sat at a table near the drinking corridor where Scott and Stef and Sean were chatting, next to what I imagine is one of the Bath's first Christmas trees - a bloke came in a taxi and said he had a spare one to give away so they accepted it and dressed it, naturally, in pump clips and baubles and tinsel. We wrote a card to the staff (at least, all those whose name we could remember) and handed it over before Scott came over and Stef, Scott mainly to wish us a very happy Christmas and New Year (you too mate). More pints of the excellent Cloudwater IPA were bought and supped. This was an outstanding IPA, and devilishly easy to drink despite its strength. Perhaps one of the beers of the year.
Tash had another chat with Stef and we were joined by Sean (other Sean) and Matty fresh from Meadowhell. He had bought bags of reduced price sandwiches and was doling them out amongst the four of us. He bought us more pints of Cloudwater IPA and we continued socialising. At some point, I lost one of my sarnies and some fish cakes - I understand they weren't found in the Bath so are probably rotting somewhere between the road and our front garden!
As time went on more IPA was bought and we were joined first by Pete Green who seemed a trifle refreshed, but was his usual friendly charming self, and also by Kat. More sarnies were doled out and the pub started to slowly empty whilst we ordered more pints of Cloudwater and Matty bought a number of people halves.
A final round of IPA's came our way before we bought shots of Lagavulin to finish on - I think actually Tash may have migrated to another drink by this stage but I finished on the Cloudwater IPA, over four hours after I started, and six pints down. What an amazing night. What an amazing pint!
Many thanks to Matty for his generosity and him, Tash, Stef, Sean, Pete and Kat for their company. Although I was, unsurprisingly, slightly zombified the next day at work, this was the best nights out all Christmas.
And in case am not back in again until 2016, I would like to wish all the staff at the Bath Hotel a very merry New Year. Here's to a prosperous 2016.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
less than a week ago I met Tash in town after work. It was a Monday night, and Christmas was fast approaching. The previous night we had been in the Rutland til late drinking and moshing after seeing a fillum at the picture house. Tonight we were meeting to enjoy a coffee. I didn't meet Tash until gone 19.00 and we'd both had a hard day. No prizes for guessing which decision we made then, about where to go...
I mean, am sure the Bath Hotel could have done us a coffee, but we didn't really want one. And when we got in Sheffield's only National Inventory pub and saw a Cloudwater Extra Special IPA on cask on the bar, it frankly seemed silly to have a hot drink. The Cloudwater IPA was 7.2% and on at what is a very reasonable for the Bath £4.20 a pint. I set up a tab, got us a seat and ordered two pints. We then spent a short time drinking and catching up with the staff. Followed by another short time....
Mark was working and possibly Paul. We sat at a table near the drinking corridor where Scott and Stef and Sean were chatting, next to what I imagine is one of the Bath's first Christmas trees - a bloke came in a taxi and said he had a spare one to give away so they accepted it and dressed it, naturally, in pump clips and baubles and tinsel. We wrote a card to the staff (at least, all those whose name we could remember) and handed it over before Scott came over and Stef, Scott mainly to wish us a very happy Christmas and New Year (you too mate). More pints of the excellent Cloudwater IPA were bought and supped. This was an outstanding IPA, and devilishly easy to drink despite its strength. Perhaps one of the beers of the year.
Tash had another chat with Stef and we were joined by Sean (other Sean) and Matty fresh from Meadowhell. He had bought bags of reduced price sandwiches and was doling them out amongst the four of us. He bought us more pints of Cloudwater IPA and we continued socialising. At some point, I lost one of my sarnies and some fish cakes - I understand they weren't found in the Bath so are probably rotting somewhere between the road and our front garden!
As time went on more IPA was bought and we were joined first by Pete Green who seemed a trifle refreshed, but was his usual friendly charming self, and also by Kat. More sarnies were doled out and the pub started to slowly empty whilst we ordered more pints of Cloudwater and Matty bought a number of people halves.
A final round of IPA's came our way before we bought shots of Lagavulin to finish on - I think actually Tash may have migrated to another drink by this stage but I finished on the Cloudwater IPA, over four hours after I started, and six pints down. What an amazing night. What an amazing pint!
Many thanks to Matty for his generosity and him, Tash, Stef, Sean, Pete and Kat for their company. Although I was, unsurprisingly, slightly zombified the next day at work, this was the best nights out all Christmas.
And in case am not back in again until 2016, I would like to wish all the staff at the Bath Hotel a very merry New Year. Here's to a prosperous 2016.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
Sunday, 8 September 2013
Three stags, two sessions, one beer.
Hello,
your oft absent blogger is back from another sojourn, this time only a short hop away to Litton in the peak district. I had made grand plans to visit Brizzle before coming to my senses and planning a short and more affordable trip away in Derbyshire.
The criteria was simple - I would select a National Inventory pub, and find a B and B nearby, thus enabling me to have a proper late night session in said pub. First idea The Royal Cottage, as well as not actually being on the N.I, isn't exactly surrounded by accommodation. Meanwhile everywhere in Elton or Winster (for the N.I listed Duke of York in Elton) was either full or far too expensive. Luckily, a place to stay 15 minutes walk from the Three Stags Heads at Wardlow Mires was found. And so began an epic stint sitting in and soaking up the atmosphere of this fantastic unspoilt pub.
Arriving in Litton at tea time and having dumped my stuff in my room the first thing to do was go to the pub. Obviously. Very little point being a beer blogger if you don't even venture to try the local pub. The Red Lion is a popular old boozer situated overlooking the village green, and serves good quality food and more importantly, real ale.
On the bar was a choice of Abbeydale Absolution, Acorn Forester, a mainstream national beer and my choice of tipple - Wincle Sir Phillip. At £3.30 for a 4.3% beer its a bit steep but it was the prefect accompaniment to my meal, and just to make sure I had three pints of it. A very satisfactory start to the night.
I then walked out of the village, diced with death walking along the A6 before visiting the Three Stags Heads. The pub was packed out when I got there and I ended up sitting in the Green Room with a couple who, much to my horror, were flagrantly ignoring the no mobile rule! That's two such incursions witnessed in just one year! Clearly the pub will be a themed sports bar by next week at this rate....
The beer range is Abbeydale and more Abbeydale - Brimstone, Deception, Absolution and Lurcher in order of strength. The Absolution is a more than reasonable £3.00 a pint (5.3%) and so it seemed daft to have anything but that. As the crowds thinned a little I ended up sat with the landlord who was talking about their upcoming (Saturday and Sunday 14th and 15th September) pottery and food festival.
Against a backdrop of a fire in the range, a tumult of dogs and good natured banter this was a fantastic session. So often when I visit the Stags I'm on borrowed time, waiting with bated breath to be informed by whoever was kind enough to drive me there that we needed to leave. Now I was sat in walking distance of a bed and constrained only by how late I thought I could realistically get to sleep and still make breakfast at 8.30. This was bliss.
Saturday saw me off down Cressbrook Dale below a canvas of cloud strewn skies and fleeting bursts of sunshine that changed the appearance of mt surroundings constantly. I came back into Litton via Tansley Dale and walked slowly back towards the Three Stags, passing the landlord on the way walking his dogs. Robbie the barman was on hand to dispense beer and conversation and so began another, perhaps even more enjoyable session on the Absolution.
Being there for 6 hours reveals the Stags' contradiction. The pub is a relaxing refuge from the madness of the modern world, yet it's simultaneously an ever changing scene, constantly filled and emptied by a steady flow of customers including walkers, cyclists, a family training for a Forth Bridge abseil, pottery fanatics, sightseers and locals. All washed in and out of the tiny bar, lit by the sun streaming in through the front door, and as ever almost overwhelmed by dogs of all shapes and sizes. To cap it all the Absolution was on great form and had it not been that I was off to Fluff's 40th birthday party I might have been walking back to Litton for the last bus - or contemplating another night away.
As it was, a possibly drink inspired cheeky request to a couple I hoped were Sheffield bound resulted in them giving me a lift back - they even dropped me at the Beauchief Hotel, the venue for the party! Well, after all, if you don't ask, you don't get.
In respect of which, what I got, as well as a helping hand, was a day of exercise and sloth, and excellent beer and company in a fabulous, unspoilt National Inventory pub, which was a fantastic end to my Summer holidays. AKA, exactly what I was after.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
your oft absent blogger is back from another sojourn, this time only a short hop away to Litton in the peak district. I had made grand plans to visit Brizzle before coming to my senses and planning a short and more affordable trip away in Derbyshire.
The criteria was simple - I would select a National Inventory pub, and find a B and B nearby, thus enabling me to have a proper late night session in said pub. First idea The Royal Cottage, as well as not actually being on the N.I, isn't exactly surrounded by accommodation. Meanwhile everywhere in Elton or Winster (for the N.I listed Duke of York in Elton) was either full or far too expensive. Luckily, a place to stay 15 minutes walk from the Three Stags Heads at Wardlow Mires was found. And so began an epic stint sitting in and soaking up the atmosphere of this fantastic unspoilt pub.
Arriving in Litton at tea time and having dumped my stuff in my room the first thing to do was go to the pub. Obviously. Very little point being a beer blogger if you don't even venture to try the local pub. The Red Lion is a popular old boozer situated overlooking the village green, and serves good quality food and more importantly, real ale.
On the bar was a choice of Abbeydale Absolution, Acorn Forester, a mainstream national beer and my choice of tipple - Wincle Sir Phillip. At £3.30 for a 4.3% beer its a bit steep but it was the prefect accompaniment to my meal, and just to make sure I had three pints of it. A very satisfactory start to the night.
I then walked out of the village, diced with death walking along the A6 before visiting the Three Stags Heads. The pub was packed out when I got there and I ended up sitting in the Green Room with a couple who, much to my horror, were flagrantly ignoring the no mobile rule! That's two such incursions witnessed in just one year! Clearly the pub will be a themed sports bar by next week at this rate....
The beer range is Abbeydale and more Abbeydale - Brimstone, Deception, Absolution and Lurcher in order of strength. The Absolution is a more than reasonable £3.00 a pint (5.3%) and so it seemed daft to have anything but that. As the crowds thinned a little I ended up sat with the landlord who was talking about their upcoming (Saturday and Sunday 14th and 15th September) pottery and food festival.
Against a backdrop of a fire in the range, a tumult of dogs and good natured banter this was a fantastic session. So often when I visit the Stags I'm on borrowed time, waiting with bated breath to be informed by whoever was kind enough to drive me there that we needed to leave. Now I was sat in walking distance of a bed and constrained only by how late I thought I could realistically get to sleep and still make breakfast at 8.30. This was bliss.
Saturday saw me off down Cressbrook Dale below a canvas of cloud strewn skies and fleeting bursts of sunshine that changed the appearance of mt surroundings constantly. I came back into Litton via Tansley Dale and walked slowly back towards the Three Stags, passing the landlord on the way walking his dogs. Robbie the barman was on hand to dispense beer and conversation and so began another, perhaps even more enjoyable session on the Absolution.
Being there for 6 hours reveals the Stags' contradiction. The pub is a relaxing refuge from the madness of the modern world, yet it's simultaneously an ever changing scene, constantly filled and emptied by a steady flow of customers including walkers, cyclists, a family training for a Forth Bridge abseil, pottery fanatics, sightseers and locals. All washed in and out of the tiny bar, lit by the sun streaming in through the front door, and as ever almost overwhelmed by dogs of all shapes and sizes. To cap it all the Absolution was on great form and had it not been that I was off to Fluff's 40th birthday party I might have been walking back to Litton for the last bus - or contemplating another night away.
As it was, a possibly drink inspired cheeky request to a couple I hoped were Sheffield bound resulted in them giving me a lift back - they even dropped me at the Beauchief Hotel, the venue for the party! Well, after all, if you don't ask, you don't get.
In respect of which, what I got, as well as a helping hand, was a day of exercise and sloth, and excellent beer and company in a fabulous, unspoilt National Inventory pub, which was a fantastic end to my Summer holidays. AKA, exactly what I was after.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
Saturday, 6 July 2013
Being beer (un)wise
Morning,
Last night, to celebrate the end of a long week, I popped in the Bath Hotel for a couple. It was stickily warm, although a cool breeze was just starting to blow through the pub. I was very thirsty, so wanted a light refreshing beer. It was too much to hope for Melba, but more than that it was too much to hope for something sensible. Yes, I could have drunk Roosters Last stand which is about 4%. But they had Oakham Green Devil IPA on. I think its fairly obvious what happened.
I was rather surprised to spot Green Devil - I'd heard rumours (which lets face it, are a great replacement for facts when your'e not sure what your on about....) that because they couldn't purchase enough citra, Oakham had stopped brewing Green Devil. The thing is, I heard that back in April. No-one indicated it was permanent. Steff assured me it wasn't an aged treasure that Thornbridge had matured for them, so it must be new. This is very good news.
For those of you not anointed at the altar of beer brilliance, Green Devil IPA is really very good. Its also 6%. And its actually not that difficult to neck. Green Devil was my friend and enemy last night. But good God it tastes lovely.
On the downside, as well as my still being hungover more than three hours after getting up (I might have had 7 pints of it. But it could be less...) being a Thornbridge pub The Bath Hotel can be face slappingly expensive. Luckily the staff at the Bath have enough about them to not fob me off with drivel like "Oakham are a really expensive brewery". They just quietly said, before puling a pint "it's £4.20 a pint though".
Obviously that's not as silly as the Dark Star Porter at the Tap but its getting that way. However, I absolutely love Green Devil so I swallowed the ignominy of paying over the odds for it, then swallowed a number of pints of it. Welcome to another Wee Beefy session! Location - check. Beer - check. Company - check.
Re the latter, having been chatting with Steff and Jason for a bit, I hijacked some innocent bystanders and "forced" them to stay for many pints. Kerry is from Brum, Owen is from Brizzle and they like beer. Proper people. I had such a great time (apart from some rather inescapable olfactory assaults from Owen...*clears throat*) chatting and supping with them that I don't actually know how long we were stood at the bar demolishing Green Devils. Except that I was last customer out to await my taxi home.
I should recommend you go and drink this wonderful beer yourself (there is only one barrel and its been on at least half of Friday) but in all honesty I want it all for myself. But if you did happen to visit the Bath and drink it, that would be a very enjoyable and rewarding co-incidence.
Enjoy!
Wee Beefy
Last night, to celebrate the end of a long week, I popped in the Bath Hotel for a couple. It was stickily warm, although a cool breeze was just starting to blow through the pub. I was very thirsty, so wanted a light refreshing beer. It was too much to hope for Melba, but more than that it was too much to hope for something sensible. Yes, I could have drunk Roosters Last stand which is about 4%. But they had Oakham Green Devil IPA on. I think its fairly obvious what happened.
I was rather surprised to spot Green Devil - I'd heard rumours (which lets face it, are a great replacement for facts when your'e not sure what your on about....) that because they couldn't purchase enough citra, Oakham had stopped brewing Green Devil. The thing is, I heard that back in April. No-one indicated it was permanent. Steff assured me it wasn't an aged treasure that Thornbridge had matured for them, so it must be new. This is very good news.
For those of you not anointed at the altar of beer brilliance, Green Devil IPA is really very good. Its also 6%. And its actually not that difficult to neck. Green Devil was my friend and enemy last night. But good God it tastes lovely.
On the downside, as well as my still being hungover more than three hours after getting up (I might have had 7 pints of it. But it could be less...) being a Thornbridge pub The Bath Hotel can be face slappingly expensive. Luckily the staff at the Bath have enough about them to not fob me off with drivel like "Oakham are a really expensive brewery". They just quietly said, before puling a pint "it's £4.20 a pint though".
Obviously that's not as silly as the Dark Star Porter at the Tap but its getting that way. However, I absolutely love Green Devil so I swallowed the ignominy of paying over the odds for it, then swallowed a number of pints of it. Welcome to another Wee Beefy session! Location - check. Beer - check. Company - check.
Re the latter, having been chatting with Steff and Jason for a bit, I hijacked some innocent bystanders and "forced" them to stay for many pints. Kerry is from Brum, Owen is from Brizzle and they like beer. Proper people. I had such a great time (apart from some rather inescapable olfactory assaults from Owen...*clears throat*) chatting and supping with them that I don't actually know how long we were stood at the bar demolishing Green Devils. Except that I was last customer out to await my taxi home.
I should recommend you go and drink this wonderful beer yourself (there is only one barrel and its been on at least half of Friday) but in all honesty I want it all for myself. But if you did happen to visit the Bath and drink it, that would be a very enjoyable and rewarding co-incidence.
Enjoy!
Wee Beefy
Sunday, 30 June 2013
Summer season sessions
Hello,
sitting in a great pub. Or sitting outside a great pub in the sunshine. Drinking a really good pint of beer, with good company. I was doing just that yesterday, listing the above whilst describing to Christingpher what constituted the perfect reasons, and situation, for a session. At the same time we were, sub consciously, starting one.
We'd walked in sunshine along Loxley Road to the Nags Head at Stacey Bank. There was still places to sit outside, and it seemed like a very good idea - because even if it hadn't been sunny, it was peculiarly warm in the pub. Christingpher opted for a pint of the Bradfield Wimbull-don, which he claimed head a hint of fruit flavour to it, I went for my absolute favourite Bradfield beer - Pale Ale at 5.0%. As its Bradfield Brewery's tap (perhaps not officially) the beer is remarkably good value here at £2.00 a pint, irrespective of strength.
We sat on the decking with the farm carrying on its business just yards away, with the sun beating down, and a steady but varied flow of people joining the throng - hikers, cyclists, dog walkers, people out for a countryside drive, locals having a catch up. It was inevitable that we wouldn't want to leave. Indeed, it was 5 hours, and 7 perfectly kept pints of glorious beer before we did.
Friday I'd been in Shakespeares with Wee Keefy and Jambon and friends, and once again the perfect combination of factors was in place. This time it was the Hop Studio Brew 100, a lovely citrus bitter with a hint of cluster and a surprisingly robust malt background. It was a perfect combination of a dry traditional Yorkshire bitter and something altogether more exotic. It was 5.1% and £2.90 a pint and despite not being an ideal; sessionable strength it kept me and my companions firmly entrenched in Shakespeares for hours.
The Ship at Shalesmoor is a pub you may know from my frequent write ups. It has a fantastic Tomlinsons Brewery tiled frontage and inside is a formerly multi-roomed layout, last refurbished in the 1980's. The extent to which the decor fails to match the age or outward appearance of this fine old pub is part of its charm. Its steadfastly rooted to the time it was upholstered and fitted and its reassuringly similar to the decor at the Old Heavygate in Crookes. The three well kept inexpensive real ales are the final piece in the jigsaw.
I was in chatting to JB on Friday and drinking the excellent if slightly heavy Harthill village Brewery Dark Hart, but last night, having stopped for a few hours of recuperation and eating, I managed to squeeze in a few hours supping the excellent Barlow Heath Robinson, 3.8% and £2.50 a pint, whilst chatting with Col, Sue, Fluffy, Sarah, Gone John and Lynn. I could have migrated to something stronger but the Barlow was exactly what I wanted so I stayed on that. In the end it was only the late hour and need for sleep which cut short our slaking.
So rounds up three slightly ill-advised but hugely enjoyable sessions - the perfect combination of location, company and beer. Well worth leaving the house for.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
sitting in a great pub. Or sitting outside a great pub in the sunshine. Drinking a really good pint of beer, with good company. I was doing just that yesterday, listing the above whilst describing to Christingpher what constituted the perfect reasons, and situation, for a session. At the same time we were, sub consciously, starting one.
We'd walked in sunshine along Loxley Road to the Nags Head at Stacey Bank. There was still places to sit outside, and it seemed like a very good idea - because even if it hadn't been sunny, it was peculiarly warm in the pub. Christingpher opted for a pint of the Bradfield Wimbull-don, which he claimed head a hint of fruit flavour to it, I went for my absolute favourite Bradfield beer - Pale Ale at 5.0%. As its Bradfield Brewery's tap (perhaps not officially) the beer is remarkably good value here at £2.00 a pint, irrespective of strength.
We sat on the decking with the farm carrying on its business just yards away, with the sun beating down, and a steady but varied flow of people joining the throng - hikers, cyclists, dog walkers, people out for a countryside drive, locals having a catch up. It was inevitable that we wouldn't want to leave. Indeed, it was 5 hours, and 7 perfectly kept pints of glorious beer before we did.
Friday I'd been in Shakespeares with Wee Keefy and Jambon and friends, and once again the perfect combination of factors was in place. This time it was the Hop Studio Brew 100, a lovely citrus bitter with a hint of cluster and a surprisingly robust malt background. It was a perfect combination of a dry traditional Yorkshire bitter and something altogether more exotic. It was 5.1% and £2.90 a pint and despite not being an ideal; sessionable strength it kept me and my companions firmly entrenched in Shakespeares for hours.
The Ship at Shalesmoor is a pub you may know from my frequent write ups. It has a fantastic Tomlinsons Brewery tiled frontage and inside is a formerly multi-roomed layout, last refurbished in the 1980's. The extent to which the decor fails to match the age or outward appearance of this fine old pub is part of its charm. Its steadfastly rooted to the time it was upholstered and fitted and its reassuringly similar to the decor at the Old Heavygate in Crookes. The three well kept inexpensive real ales are the final piece in the jigsaw.
I was in chatting to JB on Friday and drinking the excellent if slightly heavy Harthill village Brewery Dark Hart, but last night, having stopped for a few hours of recuperation and eating, I managed to squeeze in a few hours supping the excellent Barlow Heath Robinson, 3.8% and £2.50 a pint, whilst chatting with Col, Sue, Fluffy, Sarah, Gone John and Lynn. I could have migrated to something stronger but the Barlow was exactly what I wanted so I stayed on that. In the end it was only the late hour and need for sleep which cut short our slaking.
So rounds up three slightly ill-advised but hugely enjoyable sessions - the perfect combination of location, company and beer. Well worth leaving the house for.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
Saturday, 15 June 2013
Birthday week boozing
Its here folks.
The anniversary date of my being around, largely refreshed, and well walked, for another year. So as to maximise the enjoyment of this annual event I have spread my celebrations over two weekends. Next weekend will see me filling a small polypin with something pale and hoppy, possibly from Salamander, maybe from Abbeydale, to accompany my barbecue. Meanwhile, on Friday, I amassed a crowd of quite frankly excellent people to join in with drinking and larking about and trying to look sober.
Details of that anon, first, here's some gen about my my trial run.
Monday saw me in the University Arms. I had a lovely pint of Abbeydale Cosmology, which was very easy drinking, and a pint of their Tramlines 2 beer, which was a pleasant pint, if not particularly striking. Tramlines beers are always a bit of a tin medal - its a great honour to be chosen, but god forbid you brew something striking. or, to be fair, aimed ta the small handful of beer geeks and hop heads who drink the sort of beers I do. That said, this was an ideal accompaniment to my hugely filling meat and potato pie and chips, which more or less grounded me.
On Thursday I noticed it was sunny, so sloped off after work to the Riverside to "catch some rays" on the balcony. A pint of Abbeydale Phone Dip was ordered - in an amusing eyesight failure, I noticed a word containing the letters s and t and assume it was a stout. To be fair, the gent behind the bar didn't question my request, but poured me pale ale anyway - when I said "erm..." and picked it up to look at it he said "it will settle in a minute" thus having misunderstood my surprise at it being significantly less black that I'd expected! Never mind, it was a much needed refreshing pint.
I walked to the Wellington next and had a very agreeable pint of the LAC Harleys Galaxy, at a bargain £2.40, sat in the garden in the last of the evening sun. All too soon this had disappeared so I headed back for a recommendation from the brewer - returning to my sunny spot with a pint of William Henton Carver, still only £2.40 a point but a bit stronger. Kudos as a always to the Wellington for serving interesting beer at sensible prices.
A hop on the tram saw me to my next stop,the Bath Hotel, where Steff was dispensing wisdom and info as always, and nearly persuaded me to have a very silly pint indeed. Luckily I saw sense and restricted myself to two halves only - Hawkshead Gold and a rather strong Red Willow Shameless. Probably about 7% and packed with flavour, there may have been a smidgen too much sweetness for me but it was enjoyable all the same.
I finished the night at DAda where there was a "do" on and a slightly disappointing range of real ales. Lord Mumbles, Brother Boring, Hawkshead Red and Thornbridge Steelmakers. I found the latter woeful on Keykeg but assumed a bit of cask conditioning may improve it. Alas I was wrong. It's dire. Still, my spirits were lifted by a midweek discount and two bottles of excellent Kernel, resulting in a free bottle of Halcyon. Which was nice.
And so to last night. Two pubs, twenty people and one or two pints over nine hours. We started in the Harlequin at 16.00 and I met up with Tina, Dextrose, Rachael, Malc and Aidan. Wee Fatha arrived about 5 and by this time I was on my second pint of Revolutions Uprising. As usual with Revolutions, it was fantastic. Prior to that, as a birthday treat, I'd splurged cash on a bottle of Kernel Cascade. Which was not as good as their Simcoe, alas, but got better as it warmed up. Before we left I'd had a third Revolutions and we'd been joined by Ally, Mr Cain, erm thingy (sorry erm thingy) and Glasgow Edwardo, who despite my crap name recall, was actually called Chris...
Shakespeares beckoned and we met Miss M who had just arrived, along with Wee Keefy. Before long, Jambon, J9, Dave, Angie, Mr G, Tash, Gav and Clare, Michelle, and Carlos had all joined us, as we accidentally took over the clock room.
Beers in the Shakespeares were - reliant on my memory. Allegedly, pints in my session included Acorn UK Cascade (at least 2) Brew Company Oatmeal Stout and Ella, Kirkstall Three Swords and something in a bottle. And possibly Deception.
To be fair, this was my birthday night out - I wasn't "working" so am afraid there are areas of uncertainty over what beer was supped. Realty it didn't matter. This was one of the best nights out I've ever had. Fantastic company, excellent beer and good music in a great venue. At one stage I mooted the idea of heading off somewhere else. In the end, there seemed little point, and we were in for about 7 hours. Thanks to Shakespeares for their hospitality and my friends for making it such a great night.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy.
The anniversary date of my being around, largely refreshed, and well walked, for another year. So as to maximise the enjoyment of this annual event I have spread my celebrations over two weekends. Next weekend will see me filling a small polypin with something pale and hoppy, possibly from Salamander, maybe from Abbeydale, to accompany my barbecue. Meanwhile, on Friday, I amassed a crowd of quite frankly excellent people to join in with drinking and larking about and trying to look sober.
Details of that anon, first, here's some gen about my my trial run.
Monday saw me in the University Arms. I had a lovely pint of Abbeydale Cosmology, which was very easy drinking, and a pint of their Tramlines 2 beer, which was a pleasant pint, if not particularly striking. Tramlines beers are always a bit of a tin medal - its a great honour to be chosen, but god forbid you brew something striking. or, to be fair, aimed ta the small handful of beer geeks and hop heads who drink the sort of beers I do. That said, this was an ideal accompaniment to my hugely filling meat and potato pie and chips, which more or less grounded me.
On Thursday I noticed it was sunny, so sloped off after work to the Riverside to "catch some rays" on the balcony. A pint of Abbeydale Phone Dip was ordered - in an amusing eyesight failure, I noticed a word containing the letters s and t and assume it was a stout. To be fair, the gent behind the bar didn't question my request, but poured me pale ale anyway - when I said "erm..." and picked it up to look at it he said "it will settle in a minute" thus having misunderstood my surprise at it being significantly less black that I'd expected! Never mind, it was a much needed refreshing pint.
I walked to the Wellington next and had a very agreeable pint of the LAC Harleys Galaxy, at a bargain £2.40, sat in the garden in the last of the evening sun. All too soon this had disappeared so I headed back for a recommendation from the brewer - returning to my sunny spot with a pint of William Henton Carver, still only £2.40 a point but a bit stronger. Kudos as a always to the Wellington for serving interesting beer at sensible prices.
A hop on the tram saw me to my next stop,the Bath Hotel, where Steff was dispensing wisdom and info as always, and nearly persuaded me to have a very silly pint indeed. Luckily I saw sense and restricted myself to two halves only - Hawkshead Gold and a rather strong Red Willow Shameless. Probably about 7% and packed with flavour, there may have been a smidgen too much sweetness for me but it was enjoyable all the same.
I finished the night at DAda where there was a "do" on and a slightly disappointing range of real ales. Lord Mumbles, Brother Boring, Hawkshead Red and Thornbridge Steelmakers. I found the latter woeful on Keykeg but assumed a bit of cask conditioning may improve it. Alas I was wrong. It's dire. Still, my spirits were lifted by a midweek discount and two bottles of excellent Kernel, resulting in a free bottle of Halcyon. Which was nice.
And so to last night. Two pubs, twenty people and one or two pints over nine hours. We started in the Harlequin at 16.00 and I met up with Tina, Dextrose, Rachael, Malc and Aidan. Wee Fatha arrived about 5 and by this time I was on my second pint of Revolutions Uprising. As usual with Revolutions, it was fantastic. Prior to that, as a birthday treat, I'd splurged cash on a bottle of Kernel Cascade. Which was not as good as their Simcoe, alas, but got better as it warmed up. Before we left I'd had a third Revolutions and we'd been joined by Ally, Mr Cain, erm thingy (sorry erm thingy) and Glasgow Edwardo, who despite my crap name recall, was actually called Chris...
Shakespeares beckoned and we met Miss M who had just arrived, along with Wee Keefy. Before long, Jambon, J9, Dave, Angie, Mr G, Tash, Gav and Clare, Michelle, and Carlos had all joined us, as we accidentally took over the clock room.
Beers in the Shakespeares were - reliant on my memory. Allegedly, pints in my session included Acorn UK Cascade (at least 2) Brew Company Oatmeal Stout and Ella, Kirkstall Three Swords and something in a bottle. And possibly Deception.
To be fair, this was my birthday night out - I wasn't "working" so am afraid there are areas of uncertainty over what beer was supped. Realty it didn't matter. This was one of the best nights out I've ever had. Fantastic company, excellent beer and good music in a great venue. At one stage I mooted the idea of heading off somewhere else. In the end, there seemed little point, and we were in for about 7 hours. Thanks to Shakespeares for their hospitality and my friends for making it such a great night.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy.
Monday, 3 June 2013
A quite marvelous evening of refreshments
Now then,
I know I might seem a little spoiled by all the pub crawls I go on. Or maybe threatened with imminent physical decline and slow, trembly, yellow death. Either way, the surfeit of ale yomps could perhaps make me a little jaded. You can, after all, have too much of a good thing, as people who've never had a good thing tend to say. Well that's their look out. I proved them, whoever they are, wrong on Friday night.
I had accrued some flexi credit for the first time in years and after a couple of stalled attempts an evening out with my dear friend Middlemarch was overdue. She was also owed a couple of years credit so we opted to leave work at 3PM and make an effort. To sit in the sun and sup beer. Albeit, we didn't actually escape til half past but it didn't matter. We were soon sat in the beer garden of the Closed Shop drinking Marstons EPA for the lady, and Blue Bee Nectar Pale for big lad.
Despite having visited the pub before, I admit I'm an infrequent visitor to the Closed Shop beer garden. Because I'm never there early enough, or if I am, its cold. Or wet. Or windy. Or all three. On Friday it was lovely and warm, and by fluke we picked the one remaining corner of sun dappled seating that the sun then deigned to shine on as the hours, and pints, went by.
Another round of the same followed, with a pork pie for me, and crisps for us both, then round three, when I'm fairly sure Middlemarch "upskilled" her palate to the Blue Bee. No better an education. This time my trip to the bar included fetching a brownie for her to enjoy in a very lady like fashion. By this time others had followed our lead, but, remembering it isn't a game, we were easily winning at sitting in the sun.
The next round saw Middlemarch on Nectar and me rather unwisely supping a pint of Blue Bee Tangled Up IPA. Soon the sun hid behind the gable end again and we sat in the table room (I haven't named them all yet) to finish, after another half of the Tangled Up for me.
After which we went for a long walk, down Commonside, and made a fairly well guessed travail diagonally to the Wellington. It was really busy arriving at around seven, and we sat outside studiously supping halves, of Harley's Galaxy Special from the on site brewery, before walking slowly to the Ship to make sure we didn't suffer the ignominy of arriving to find it closed.
"It usually opens about half seven" I announced with an air of authority as we arrived to find it absolutely rammed at precisely that time, with a near empty table of food near the entrance.There was a retirement do on, and it had clearly been in full swing for a while. Here Middlemarch had a pint of Moonshine (or maybe a half) and I a pint of the fantastic Btadfield Pale Ale, at 5.0%. Sitting down on one of the few free tables we were chatting away when Stuart from (amongst other places) DAda fame came and sat down next to us - it was his wife who was having the do....
This was a surprising co-incidence but it didn't seem out of place in the carefree flow of the day (although we'll paper over the fact that the pub had opened at 19.00 anyway, with the do having started at 16.00). However, before long Stuart had to "do the rounds" and we had to head off for a final pint at Shakespeares.
Here a minor kerfuffle with my attempting to spend money in small increments to pay by card meant Middlemarch graciously picked up the tab, and we repaired to the clock room to enjoy a pint of Welbeck Elis Dark Mild for me and a quite frankly I haven't the foggiest for Middlemarch. Afterwards, I even had time to walk her into town, grab supplies (pizza, two bottles of olive oil, and, um, sausages?) from the supermarket and have a glass of wine before bed. Well, I say bed. The settee was very comfy....
Sometimes a plan just comes together. And as a black belt in mis-haps, miscalculation and misanthropic moaning about changes and compromises, this excellent session was the perfect way to start the month, and the weekend. Thanks to Middlemarch for keeping me company, and sharing in an evening of faultless beers and fantastic pubs.
Wee Beefy
I know I might seem a little spoiled by all the pub crawls I go on. Or maybe threatened with imminent physical decline and slow, trembly, yellow death. Either way, the surfeit of ale yomps could perhaps make me a little jaded. You can, after all, have too much of a good thing, as people who've never had a good thing tend to say. Well that's their look out. I proved them, whoever they are, wrong on Friday night.
I had accrued some flexi credit for the first time in years and after a couple of stalled attempts an evening out with my dear friend Middlemarch was overdue. She was also owed a couple of years credit so we opted to leave work at 3PM and make an effort. To sit in the sun and sup beer. Albeit, we didn't actually escape til half past but it didn't matter. We were soon sat in the beer garden of the Closed Shop drinking Marstons EPA for the lady, and Blue Bee Nectar Pale for big lad.
Despite having visited the pub before, I admit I'm an infrequent visitor to the Closed Shop beer garden. Because I'm never there early enough, or if I am, its cold. Or wet. Or windy. Or all three. On Friday it was lovely and warm, and by fluke we picked the one remaining corner of sun dappled seating that the sun then deigned to shine on as the hours, and pints, went by.
Another round of the same followed, with a pork pie for me, and crisps for us both, then round three, when I'm fairly sure Middlemarch "upskilled" her palate to the Blue Bee. No better an education. This time my trip to the bar included fetching a brownie for her to enjoy in a very lady like fashion. By this time others had followed our lead, but, remembering it isn't a game, we were easily winning at sitting in the sun.
The next round saw Middlemarch on Nectar and me rather unwisely supping a pint of Blue Bee Tangled Up IPA. Soon the sun hid behind the gable end again and we sat in the table room (I haven't named them all yet) to finish, after another half of the Tangled Up for me.
After which we went for a long walk, down Commonside, and made a fairly well guessed travail diagonally to the Wellington. It was really busy arriving at around seven, and we sat outside studiously supping halves, of Harley's Galaxy Special from the on site brewery, before walking slowly to the Ship to make sure we didn't suffer the ignominy of arriving to find it closed.
"It usually opens about half seven" I announced with an air of authority as we arrived to find it absolutely rammed at precisely that time, with a near empty table of food near the entrance.There was a retirement do on, and it had clearly been in full swing for a while. Here Middlemarch had a pint of Moonshine (or maybe a half) and I a pint of the fantastic Btadfield Pale Ale, at 5.0%. Sitting down on one of the few free tables we were chatting away when Stuart from (amongst other places) DAda fame came and sat down next to us - it was his wife who was having the do....
This was a surprising co-incidence but it didn't seem out of place in the carefree flow of the day (although we'll paper over the fact that the pub had opened at 19.00 anyway, with the do having started at 16.00). However, before long Stuart had to "do the rounds" and we had to head off for a final pint at Shakespeares.
Here a minor kerfuffle with my attempting to spend money in small increments to pay by card meant Middlemarch graciously picked up the tab, and we repaired to the clock room to enjoy a pint of Welbeck Elis Dark Mild for me and a quite frankly I haven't the foggiest for Middlemarch. Afterwards, I even had time to walk her into town, grab supplies (pizza, two bottles of olive oil, and, um, sausages?) from the supermarket and have a glass of wine before bed. Well, I say bed. The settee was very comfy....
Sometimes a plan just comes together. And as a black belt in mis-haps, miscalculation and misanthropic moaning about changes and compromises, this excellent session was the perfect way to start the month, and the weekend. Thanks to Middlemarch for keeping me company, and sharing in an evening of faultless beers and fantastic pubs.
Wee Beefy
Wednesday, 22 May 2013
A crapulence of Wanderiains
Hello again,
as previously mentioned (possibly?), the primary reason for my self enforced abstinence this week is recognition that I have somewhat overdone May so far. Having been out almost every night for two weeks even I had the remaining brain power to surmise that actually I'd been very silly. Not that I hadn't enjoyed being very silly. Its rather fun, I tend to find.
Anyhoo, this shaky procession of dry hours gives me the chance to catch up on some news about said events, which I hope to accurately convey hereafter.
Wednesday (not today, keep up!) was Wanderiains day, and since it was switching between sunshine and pouring rain so it seemed only sensible to walk to the Gardeners Rest. This time we broke with tradition and settled in the snug on the left, taking with us pints of Long Itch Light relief for me and a weaker offering of theirs for Mr P. Neither were exactly accomplished beers, but were refreshing, so we quickly dispatched them and moved onto a pint of Pennine Test match for Mr P and a pint of Blue Bee Brown Ball for me. And yes, it really is the bitterest brown beer in Sheffield.
A quick walk round to the Ship followed but in our haste we had arrived early so decamped to the Wellington for halves of Little Ale Cart Sir William something with an A in it (my notes offer Blake, Sage and Gage - chances are its none). Then we nipped back over the road to find the footy on in the Ship, where I had a pint and a half of the Deception and Mr P a surprisingly palatable Bradfield Rhubarb bitter. It was nice to sit in the left hand side watching the sun stream through the windows, and it was a shame to leave to be honest.
I finished in Shakespeares where I chatted to Keith and big Ron about pubs and supped a pint of Rat Brewery Light Mild and Hop Studio Black IPA, both of which were in good nick.
Thursday was supposed to be my "day off" but a wall of brain achingly complex work and a weird text from Christingpher about 16.00 heralded another reckless night of refreshments. We met at Shakespeares and I started with a pint of Mallinsons Bramling, which was every bit as good as I'd expected, and went to sit with Christingpher in the beer yard. Alas, the warm sunshine had deserted the area hours ago and before long it was raining so we headed inside, where we both had pints of the same.
Next we traveled to Commonside to visit the Closed Shop where we bumped into Mr Stephens (hardly surprising) and also Dave, AKA Closed Shop Kate. As you know, I;m a big fan of humour by repetition, so in only two years I'll definitely have tired of referring to Dave as Dave. Instead of Kate....
Here there was more glorious beer talk as well as a decent smattering of noise on the jukebox. Christingpher was very sensibly on the Raw Majjic Mild whilst I had two pints of the also excellent Welbeck Abbey Cavendish, before we undertook the rather lengthy but downhill walk to the Ship at Shalesmoor.
So began my second ever proper session in here, ensconced near the jukebox and putting away an ominous number of pints of the Bradfield Rhubarb Bitter. Three hours passed with conversation ranging from random events from our childhood, to classic arguments we'd had with friends. In some ways, a drinking session with some one you've known 35 years is hard to beat. In the end, it was only my ongoing employment that brought this festival of slaking to an end.
Friday I was going out with my dear friend Middlemarch but alas she caught a debilitating illness that meant she didn't even want to go out drinking. So, instead of leaving early for pints I diligently stayed at work til late - then caved in and ran away to the Closed Shop for beer and solace. Luckily, I bumped into Vinnie and Daniel who I'd met at Pete Green's birthday the other day and so ended up gatecrashing their get together.
Here I was on a mixture of Raw Dark Peak Stout, and Blue Bee Blue Ball (not in the same glass you understand) as we got through many hours of chat and numerous pints. It was great getting to know Vinnie and Daniel, along with Mark, Leila, and Steve, and catching up with Father O'Matic and Kiri, but eventually, and unfortunately, it became something past one and I had to go home.
My last night out of this post (there will be a separate one about another Manchester area crawl to come) saw me out for the unofficial Carlos' birthday night out. To be quite honest by this time I was starting to sense that I was pushing my luck living-wise so decreed to meet as late as possible and leave at a sensible time. In the end everyone was late, as befits a Carlos do, and I made the last bus.
We started in the Hop and I had a pint of Green Jack Trawler Boys, which tasted fine but by the end had developed a detectable compost bin nose, so I moved onto Abbeydale Devotion next. We sat upstairs with Jambon (for a bit), Carlos, Mole, Angie, Wee Keefy and Toastie, before the band started playing, and the situation with the blocked men's urinal started to tell. One final pint was supped in here, Ossett Challenger, which was the best so far, before we headed to the Washington.
The Washington is the default later on destination of virtually everyone my age. Its always had a place in my heart and I've had many fab nights there. Plus, the eclectic crowd and somehow always palatable cloudy Moonshine wins it many plaudits. However, it seems to be fast securing a place in my mind as one of the stranger pubs in Sheffield. Its like it was 50 when I first visited 20 years ago (it actually opened in 1839, but lets not confuse my metaphor) and now its a much loved, slightly doddery place where flashbacks and confusion abound.
On Saturday we got in about 22.00 and it was not too busy (I mean, no-one goes in before midnight, right?) and having secured our pint of surprisingly ace Moonshine we ventured into the "Deep End" i.e the two rooms to the right with the glitter balls and DJ in. The room was virtually empty and it was easy to imagine why.
It smelled like urine and cat food. A man who thought he was Bez shambled ambidextrously between the bar and an imaginary cliff edge near the seating, while a selection of weird but oft enjoyable surf rock and other poorly recorded oddities blasted distortedly out of the straining speakers. Yep. This was to be our night mapped out. Significantly more Moonshine would be required....
Wherein lies, of course, the trick, since before I knew it I was having a bloody great time as I should have remembered I always do in the Washie. Great friends, great beer and the amusing irregularity of its disheveled features made this, and continues to make this, an excellent venue.
So concludes my round up of a thirsty week. Not a plan of action I recommend you try and copy, but on the other hand, if you are going to take 5 days off the grog, it may as well be for a good reason.
Your very best health
WB
as previously mentioned (possibly?), the primary reason for my self enforced abstinence this week is recognition that I have somewhat overdone May so far. Having been out almost every night for two weeks even I had the remaining brain power to surmise that actually I'd been very silly. Not that I hadn't enjoyed being very silly. Its rather fun, I tend to find.
Anyhoo, this shaky procession of dry hours gives me the chance to catch up on some news about said events, which I hope to accurately convey hereafter.
Wednesday (not today, keep up!) was Wanderiains day, and since it was switching between sunshine and pouring rain so it seemed only sensible to walk to the Gardeners Rest. This time we broke with tradition and settled in the snug on the left, taking with us pints of Long Itch Light relief for me and a weaker offering of theirs for Mr P. Neither were exactly accomplished beers, but were refreshing, so we quickly dispatched them and moved onto a pint of Pennine Test match for Mr P and a pint of Blue Bee Brown Ball for me. And yes, it really is the bitterest brown beer in Sheffield.
A quick walk round to the Ship followed but in our haste we had arrived early so decamped to the Wellington for halves of Little Ale Cart Sir William something with an A in it (my notes offer Blake, Sage and Gage - chances are its none). Then we nipped back over the road to find the footy on in the Ship, where I had a pint and a half of the Deception and Mr P a surprisingly palatable Bradfield Rhubarb bitter. It was nice to sit in the left hand side watching the sun stream through the windows, and it was a shame to leave to be honest.
I finished in Shakespeares where I chatted to Keith and big Ron about pubs and supped a pint of Rat Brewery Light Mild and Hop Studio Black IPA, both of which were in good nick.
Thursday was supposed to be my "day off" but a wall of brain achingly complex work and a weird text from Christingpher about 16.00 heralded another reckless night of refreshments. We met at Shakespeares and I started with a pint of Mallinsons Bramling, which was every bit as good as I'd expected, and went to sit with Christingpher in the beer yard. Alas, the warm sunshine had deserted the area hours ago and before long it was raining so we headed inside, where we both had pints of the same.
Next we traveled to Commonside to visit the Closed Shop where we bumped into Mr Stephens (hardly surprising) and also Dave, AKA Closed Shop Kate. As you know, I;m a big fan of humour by repetition, so in only two years I'll definitely have tired of referring to Dave as Dave. Instead of Kate....
Here there was more glorious beer talk as well as a decent smattering of noise on the jukebox. Christingpher was very sensibly on the Raw Majjic Mild whilst I had two pints of the also excellent Welbeck Abbey Cavendish, before we undertook the rather lengthy but downhill walk to the Ship at Shalesmoor.
So began my second ever proper session in here, ensconced near the jukebox and putting away an ominous number of pints of the Bradfield Rhubarb Bitter. Three hours passed with conversation ranging from random events from our childhood, to classic arguments we'd had with friends. In some ways, a drinking session with some one you've known 35 years is hard to beat. In the end, it was only my ongoing employment that brought this festival of slaking to an end.
Friday I was going out with my dear friend Middlemarch but alas she caught a debilitating illness that meant she didn't even want to go out drinking. So, instead of leaving early for pints I diligently stayed at work til late - then caved in and ran away to the Closed Shop for beer and solace. Luckily, I bumped into Vinnie and Daniel who I'd met at Pete Green's birthday the other day and so ended up gatecrashing their get together.
Here I was on a mixture of Raw Dark Peak Stout, and Blue Bee Blue Ball (not in the same glass you understand) as we got through many hours of chat and numerous pints. It was great getting to know Vinnie and Daniel, along with Mark, Leila, and Steve, and catching up with Father O'Matic and Kiri, but eventually, and unfortunately, it became something past one and I had to go home.
My last night out of this post (there will be a separate one about another Manchester area crawl to come) saw me out for the unofficial Carlos' birthday night out. To be quite honest by this time I was starting to sense that I was pushing my luck living-wise so decreed to meet as late as possible and leave at a sensible time. In the end everyone was late, as befits a Carlos do, and I made the last bus.
We started in the Hop and I had a pint of Green Jack Trawler Boys, which tasted fine but by the end had developed a detectable compost bin nose, so I moved onto Abbeydale Devotion next. We sat upstairs with Jambon (for a bit), Carlos, Mole, Angie, Wee Keefy and Toastie, before the band started playing, and the situation with the blocked men's urinal started to tell. One final pint was supped in here, Ossett Challenger, which was the best so far, before we headed to the Washington.
The Washington is the default later on destination of virtually everyone my age. Its always had a place in my heart and I've had many fab nights there. Plus, the eclectic crowd and somehow always palatable cloudy Moonshine wins it many plaudits. However, it seems to be fast securing a place in my mind as one of the stranger pubs in Sheffield. Its like it was 50 when I first visited 20 years ago (it actually opened in 1839, but lets not confuse my metaphor) and now its a much loved, slightly doddery place where flashbacks and confusion abound.
On Saturday we got in about 22.00 and it was not too busy (I mean, no-one goes in before midnight, right?) and having secured our pint of surprisingly ace Moonshine we ventured into the "Deep End" i.e the two rooms to the right with the glitter balls and DJ in. The room was virtually empty and it was easy to imagine why.
It smelled like urine and cat food. A man who thought he was Bez shambled ambidextrously between the bar and an imaginary cliff edge near the seating, while a selection of weird but oft enjoyable surf rock and other poorly recorded oddities blasted distortedly out of the straining speakers. Yep. This was to be our night mapped out. Significantly more Moonshine would be required....
Wherein lies, of course, the trick, since before I knew it I was having a bloody great time as I should have remembered I always do in the Washie. Great friends, great beer and the amusing irregularity of its disheveled features made this, and continues to make this, an excellent venue.
So concludes my round up of a thirsty week. Not a plan of action I recommend you try and copy, but on the other hand, if you are going to take 5 days off the grog, it may as well be for a good reason.
Your very best health
WB
Sunday, 5 May 2013
Bank holiday sessions
Appen,
the Bank Holiday weekend started in earnest on Friday night with pints in the White Lion at Heeley. Partners Brewery Mungo Mild was a surprise find so I supped a couple of pints of that before moving onto Thornbridge Jaipur, which I was disappointed to find was a little bit bit more expensive even than the Hallamshire House. Despite this obvious financial discomfort, I consoled myself with a couple before heading back down the ABV again and finishing on a mild, prior to a boozy meal at Parthenonas for some Greek celebrations.
That meant Saturday was a day to do proper bank holiday things - namely yomp round the Peak District, sup ale and get rained on. All of which were enjoyably achieved.
I met Miss M in town and we caught the bus to a rain soaked Chezvegas and onto Matlock. Or Madlot, which is a much better name on bank holiday. Stood in drizzle at the bus stop muttering about crowds the full horror of tourist-mageddon was laid before us. Why, we wanted to know, are all these people here?
Its a precarious moral position to inhabit when bemoaning the fact that loads of people have come to Matlock and you can't see why, whilst you are also in Matlock, but in our defence, we were on a mission. Matlock was nowt but a stepping stone. We were off to Bonsall, on public transport.
We jumped off the M2 bus at the bottom of the dale and walked the short distance up to the Barley Mow in bright sunshine. It was chilly, and changeable, and whilst sitting outside looked like a good idea, it soon ominously clouded over again. Not that we minded, ensconced inside, supping hoppy ale and eyeing up some mountainous portions of food.
There were four beers on, Kelham Island Best, Black Hole Cosmic, Bumpmill Thunder Road and Blue Monkey Infinity. I started on the Infinity as did Miss M, and we started to think about how we could possibly have exerted enough energy to tackle a lasagna having done nothing more strenuous than walk uphill for 5 minutes. Our concerns were justified. The lasagna portions were ginormous.
Miss M had sourced us some more drinks and to be honest the Blue Monkey Infinity was so good it seemed pointless moving onto something else just yet, so I had another pint of that to help wash down an hours worth of food. We were then joined unexpectedly by Wee Keefy who had ridden over on his bike, arriving just in time to help finish off my meal. Now we were really in bank holiday mode. It even warmed up enough for us to sit outside.
We sat looking down the dale in the sunshine and continued supping, WK on coke and then Bumpmill, Miss M on Infinity and the Black Hole, and me on more pints of Infinity.A perfectly balanced orange tinged hoppy pale ale made for sunshine, and possibly from it.
The Barley Mow is the sort of pub you always seem to arrive at with a fixed timetable, and very quickly decide that you don't want to leave. Certain pubs sometimes just grab you and won't let go. Sat in the Clock room in Shakespeares with its heavy tick-tocking the only sound in the pub; stood next to the fire in the Duke of York at Elton; sitting on the banks of the Severn supping Salopian beers outside the Royal Hill at Edgerley. All moments which I wanted to continue well beyond the point at which was practical for them to do so. (The Duke of York at Elton is especially un-leavable....)
Against which backdrop, five pints of Infinity down and with our bus to Matlock approaching, I thought about the practicalities of catching a later bus. Or in fact, just moving to Bonsall. No practicalities were found.
Back in Matlock, with WK off to the Sheffield Student Union beer fest, we popped in MoCa Bar for a pint of Abbeydale Dark Congregation which we drank whilst sat outside on the terrace/balcony thing, watching the less than salubrious scene in front of us. I don't think Moca's beer terrace will win any awards for the view but it was nice to still be out in the fresh air.
Before we left I grabbed a quick half of Oakham Hare and the Hedgehog, a delightfully punchy, fruity, hop fest at 3.9% which was dispatched quickly. Alas, we couldn't hang around (always a feature of Moca bar) as we had to head off to the bus station to escape back to Sheffield.
Once back in the beer capital I went straight to the White Lion to undertake an even more epic session whilst celebrating Chala's 40th. We had the right hand snug to ourselves, all decorated for the occasion, and to my and many others joy, Raw Dark Peak Stout was on. Chala was on shandy to begin with, perhaps sensibly plotting to remain mostly compus mentus until the end of the night. I, on the other hand, was past the point where switching to soft drinks or lower gravity beer was going to make any difference, having put away numerous lovely pints before I arrived.
The solution to this was technical and very scientific. What one does, is to drink a very large quantity of the same beer, thus mysteriously not getting drunk! That's an actual fact. That I made up.
Several hours and pints of Dark Peak and a couple of pints of water later, I was being given a lift home by Thangor, and a fantastic sunny bank holiday Saturday featuring three brilliant pubs was over.
What a tremendously pleasing start to May. Things can only get worse.....!
Wee Beefy
the Bank Holiday weekend started in earnest on Friday night with pints in the White Lion at Heeley. Partners Brewery Mungo Mild was a surprise find so I supped a couple of pints of that before moving onto Thornbridge Jaipur, which I was disappointed to find was a little bit bit more expensive even than the Hallamshire House. Despite this obvious financial discomfort, I consoled myself with a couple before heading back down the ABV again and finishing on a mild, prior to a boozy meal at Parthenonas for some Greek celebrations.
That meant Saturday was a day to do proper bank holiday things - namely yomp round the Peak District, sup ale and get rained on. All of which were enjoyably achieved.
I met Miss M in town and we caught the bus to a rain soaked Chezvegas and onto Matlock. Or Madlot, which is a much better name on bank holiday. Stood in drizzle at the bus stop muttering about crowds the full horror of tourist-mageddon was laid before us. Why, we wanted to know, are all these people here?
Its a precarious moral position to inhabit when bemoaning the fact that loads of people have come to Matlock and you can't see why, whilst you are also in Matlock, but in our defence, we were on a mission. Matlock was nowt but a stepping stone. We were off to Bonsall, on public transport.
We jumped off the M2 bus at the bottom of the dale and walked the short distance up to the Barley Mow in bright sunshine. It was chilly, and changeable, and whilst sitting outside looked like a good idea, it soon ominously clouded over again. Not that we minded, ensconced inside, supping hoppy ale and eyeing up some mountainous portions of food.
There were four beers on, Kelham Island Best, Black Hole Cosmic, Bumpmill Thunder Road and Blue Monkey Infinity. I started on the Infinity as did Miss M, and we started to think about how we could possibly have exerted enough energy to tackle a lasagna having done nothing more strenuous than walk uphill for 5 minutes. Our concerns were justified. The lasagna portions were ginormous.
Miss M had sourced us some more drinks and to be honest the Blue Monkey Infinity was so good it seemed pointless moving onto something else just yet, so I had another pint of that to help wash down an hours worth of food. We were then joined unexpectedly by Wee Keefy who had ridden over on his bike, arriving just in time to help finish off my meal. Now we were really in bank holiday mode. It even warmed up enough for us to sit outside.
We sat looking down the dale in the sunshine and continued supping, WK on coke and then Bumpmill, Miss M on Infinity and the Black Hole, and me on more pints of Infinity.A perfectly balanced orange tinged hoppy pale ale made for sunshine, and possibly from it.
The Barley Mow is the sort of pub you always seem to arrive at with a fixed timetable, and very quickly decide that you don't want to leave. Certain pubs sometimes just grab you and won't let go. Sat in the Clock room in Shakespeares with its heavy tick-tocking the only sound in the pub; stood next to the fire in the Duke of York at Elton; sitting on the banks of the Severn supping Salopian beers outside the Royal Hill at Edgerley. All moments which I wanted to continue well beyond the point at which was practical for them to do so. (The Duke of York at Elton is especially un-leavable....)
Against which backdrop, five pints of Infinity down and with our bus to Matlock approaching, I thought about the practicalities of catching a later bus. Or in fact, just moving to Bonsall. No practicalities were found.
Back in Matlock, with WK off to the Sheffield Student Union beer fest, we popped in MoCa Bar for a pint of Abbeydale Dark Congregation which we drank whilst sat outside on the terrace/balcony thing, watching the less than salubrious scene in front of us. I don't think Moca's beer terrace will win any awards for the view but it was nice to still be out in the fresh air.
Before we left I grabbed a quick half of Oakham Hare and the Hedgehog, a delightfully punchy, fruity, hop fest at 3.9% which was dispatched quickly. Alas, we couldn't hang around (always a feature of Moca bar) as we had to head off to the bus station to escape back to Sheffield.
Once back in the beer capital I went straight to the White Lion to undertake an even more epic session whilst celebrating Chala's 40th. We had the right hand snug to ourselves, all decorated for the occasion, and to my and many others joy, Raw Dark Peak Stout was on. Chala was on shandy to begin with, perhaps sensibly plotting to remain mostly compus mentus until the end of the night. I, on the other hand, was past the point where switching to soft drinks or lower gravity beer was going to make any difference, having put away numerous lovely pints before I arrived.
The solution to this was technical and very scientific. What one does, is to drink a very large quantity of the same beer, thus mysteriously not getting drunk! That's an actual fact. That I made up.
Several hours and pints of Dark Peak and a couple of pints of water later, I was being given a lift home by Thangor, and a fantastic sunny bank holiday Saturday featuring three brilliant pubs was over.
What a tremendously pleasing start to May. Things can only get worse.....!
Wee Beefy
Thursday, 2 May 2013
Mysterious paper in wallet hastens appearance of liquids
Hello,
payday is fun isn't it. Money falls into your bank account (hopefully, not intending to alienate anyone) and there are bills to pay, shopping to buy and chores to perform. Me? I just go to the pub. I mean Jesus, I've earned it. I hadn't been out since Sunday. It was Tuesday....
I started by bussing it to the Closed Shop which you may remember from the world cheese matching championships. It was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday at 7ish, although, despite my having had a bath, many people mysteriously jumped ship after I arrived. A thinner skinned, and indeed, thinner, man, could take this badly. I, on the other hand, had eyed up some Blue Bee Lustin for Stout.
One thing I will say is that' its confusingly bitter these days. Ascorbic sometimes, which is strange since I always used to find it too heavy, but in a robust creamy sort of way. That night it was almost like the sheer magnitude of flavour has been inched out by a blob of extra dry hops. Its a shame because I really rate the stout, but I suppose with the best will in the world, not every brew can be the same.
Next up was a pint from the cellar. Paultous disappeared to fetch it, based on my waiting time from a cellar in Crookes, and I quickly realised that the much loved Titanic Plum Porter was a bit one dimensional. You see, I like plum, and I like porter. However, Plum Porter isn't both of these things. Its plum cordial with a drop of bitter. I kind of liked it. I was almost impressed. However, I couldn't help thinking it might have needed to remember it was a beer.
It was at this point that I played "an hilarious" gag on myself. Having divested my leather jacket on the nearest bar front hook, I became annoyed by my work bag, so passed it to Paultous and said "here's a great gag - you put this behind the bar for me, and we can both be amused when I get home at midnight and remember that you still have it". We both laughed. Well, it was a quiet night....
The silence was broken by the arrival of Tony Kennick from the past. I used to know Tony when we were both in CAMRA, around the time of the Crimea. Tony was good at shouting and was the only man in all of CAMRA to own a computer. He was basically in charge. That is not, I hasten to add, connected to my leaving.
He was on something reasonable whilst I next had a pint of the Blue Bee Pink Ball, which is fab, but somehow tasted ever so slightly of sandalwood incense, or perfume. The other brewer who is not Rich (sorry, other brewer who is not Rich, I have had a sleep since then) was at a loss to explain this unique feature, but that hardly mattered since in fact, the beer was still bloody excellent.
I had a couple of pints of the pink ball and a catch up with TK before I headed off for pastures new. En route I noticed the Hadfield wasn't exactly open. I managed through sheer determination tonight to find some details for them (on the Facebook, you've seen the Facebook), but am unsure as to the "plan". On 7th March they stated they had only 12 wees to survive - if they reopened at the end of March then that's not long off.
OK, so Tuesday night isn't a winner but some opening times info would be helpful. I'd take a pub called the Hadfield over a Shamesburys any day but its a bit incongruous me urging readers to use it or lose it when its not, erm, open? Feel free to tell me the opening hours The Hadfield, who is a person...
I headed off toward the next pub before I realised just how funny my bag-gag had been - the chuffer was still behind the bar. Cue a breathless sweaty rampage uphill back to the Closed Shop to deliver the punchline, and head back off again in the direction of the University Arms.
Here I was pleased to see a beer on gravity. Kelham Island (good God, don't tell them like The Devonshire Cat did, or they'll come and demand you serve it through handpump, if we believe the implausible reason for not selling Pale Rider on gravity provided by the Dev Cat is true), sorry where was I? Oh yes on gravity, Doctor Death, a rather smashing dark ale from Kelham.
I had a half of that and a pint of the also excellent Citra from Great Heck brewery, fast becoming a reliable and indeed desirable brewery choice on the bar. I'd only intended to stay for one pint but its so rare to see gravity dispensed beer in Sheff these days it was worth an extra sup.
My final port of call was the venerable Bath Hotel. I opted for a pint of the ascorbic, bitter and tantalisingly hoppy Mallinsons Tammie Norrie, which was just as boisterously challenging but ultimately rewarding as I remembered. A great finisher at such a low strength.
With a whopping extended weekend of liquid ahead it was probably best I got my money-shock drinking out of the way early in the week. Because there are some huge sessions ahead over the holiday. Not a task for a man who still has the pre payday drink monkey on his shoulder, I can assure you...
Wee Beefy
payday is fun isn't it. Money falls into your bank account (hopefully, not intending to alienate anyone) and there are bills to pay, shopping to buy and chores to perform. Me? I just go to the pub. I mean Jesus, I've earned it. I hadn't been out since Sunday. It was Tuesday....
I started by bussing it to the Closed Shop which you may remember from the world cheese matching championships. It was surprisingly busy for a Tuesday at 7ish, although, despite my having had a bath, many people mysteriously jumped ship after I arrived. A thinner skinned, and indeed, thinner, man, could take this badly. I, on the other hand, had eyed up some Blue Bee Lustin for Stout.
One thing I will say is that' its confusingly bitter these days. Ascorbic sometimes, which is strange since I always used to find it too heavy, but in a robust creamy sort of way. That night it was almost like the sheer magnitude of flavour has been inched out by a blob of extra dry hops. Its a shame because I really rate the stout, but I suppose with the best will in the world, not every brew can be the same.
Next up was a pint from the cellar. Paultous disappeared to fetch it, based on my waiting time from a cellar in Crookes, and I quickly realised that the much loved Titanic Plum Porter was a bit one dimensional. You see, I like plum, and I like porter. However, Plum Porter isn't both of these things. Its plum cordial with a drop of bitter. I kind of liked it. I was almost impressed. However, I couldn't help thinking it might have needed to remember it was a beer.
It was at this point that I played "an hilarious" gag on myself. Having divested my leather jacket on the nearest bar front hook, I became annoyed by my work bag, so passed it to Paultous and said "here's a great gag - you put this behind the bar for me, and we can both be amused when I get home at midnight and remember that you still have it". We both laughed. Well, it was a quiet night....
The silence was broken by the arrival of Tony Kennick from the past. I used to know Tony when we were both in CAMRA, around the time of the Crimea. Tony was good at shouting and was the only man in all of CAMRA to own a computer. He was basically in charge. That is not, I hasten to add, connected to my leaving.
He was on something reasonable whilst I next had a pint of the Blue Bee Pink Ball, which is fab, but somehow tasted ever so slightly of sandalwood incense, or perfume. The other brewer who is not Rich (sorry, other brewer who is not Rich, I have had a sleep since then) was at a loss to explain this unique feature, but that hardly mattered since in fact, the beer was still bloody excellent.
I had a couple of pints of the pink ball and a catch up with TK before I headed off for pastures new. En route I noticed the Hadfield wasn't exactly open. I managed through sheer determination tonight to find some details for them (on the Facebook, you've seen the Facebook), but am unsure as to the "plan". On 7th March they stated they had only 12 wees to survive - if they reopened at the end of March then that's not long off.
OK, so Tuesday night isn't a winner but some opening times info would be helpful. I'd take a pub called the Hadfield over a Shamesburys any day but its a bit incongruous me urging readers to use it or lose it when its not, erm, open? Feel free to tell me the opening hours The Hadfield, who is a person...
I headed off toward the next pub before I realised just how funny my bag-gag had been - the chuffer was still behind the bar. Cue a breathless sweaty rampage uphill back to the Closed Shop to deliver the punchline, and head back off again in the direction of the University Arms.
Here I was pleased to see a beer on gravity. Kelham Island (good God, don't tell them like The Devonshire Cat did, or they'll come and demand you serve it through handpump, if we believe the implausible reason for not selling Pale Rider on gravity provided by the Dev Cat is true), sorry where was I? Oh yes on gravity, Doctor Death, a rather smashing dark ale from Kelham.
I had a half of that and a pint of the also excellent Citra from Great Heck brewery, fast becoming a reliable and indeed desirable brewery choice on the bar. I'd only intended to stay for one pint but its so rare to see gravity dispensed beer in Sheff these days it was worth an extra sup.
My final port of call was the venerable Bath Hotel. I opted for a pint of the ascorbic, bitter and tantalisingly hoppy Mallinsons Tammie Norrie, which was just as boisterously challenging but ultimately rewarding as I remembered. A great finisher at such a low strength.
With a whopping extended weekend of liquid ahead it was probably best I got my money-shock drinking out of the way early in the week. Because there are some huge sessions ahead over the holiday. Not a task for a man who still has the pre payday drink monkey on his shoulder, I can assure you...
Wee Beefy
Thursday, 25 April 2013
Always read the label...
Hello,
I was out Monday night (I know, I know, call the AA, etc..) with the assembled Rotherhamia in the Rutland Arms, a pub you may remember from much more posts in 2012. Its nothing personal of course, just that now that eminent overseer Mr Stephens has left the Death Star Canteen to be in the Death Star Canteen but elsewhere, I have been in other pubs instead. Anyhoo.....
Neil texted me as I waited for the twat tractor from work and advised that him and Jane were in the Rutty for an hour, and that I may wish to join them. Well, loving standing in the open sewer of Waingate though I was, I opted to hot foot it to the Rutland and join in. First up was a half of the West Weizen, and a pint of Revolutions Brew Sid and Nancy, because its from Revolutions. It also had a rather pleasing pump clip.
I nibbled some food, supped my delightful hoppy ale and talked with good friends. Only after I started my second pint, having finished a decent if underwhelming West, did I realise, or rather, find out, that the Sid and Nancy was 6.9%! Because yer see, the thing about pumpclips is that amongst other things, they almost always confirm the beer's strength. Whereas my pumpclip espying is a more brewery identification based assessment....
Throughout the night I did go on to sample other beers, one of which was clearly black, but considering that Neil was demolishing a procession of pints of Magic Rock High Wire, which I also tried a half of, its difficult to explain how I managed to become so very tired. Unless I had several more Sid and Nancy that is.....
Finally recovered tonight, I popped briefly in the Shakespeares for a few. I started on a very quaffable and enjoyable pint of Oldershaw Grantham Dark, before I had two halves of Brew Co Topaz, and halves of Otley O3 and Welbeck Cavendish. The Otley was surprisingly low on flavour, and the Cavendish a bit biscuity wheat, but the Topaz was excellent. So I had a (second) pint of that as well.
Obviously, I could have partaken of a beer from the cellar - or, indeed, a pint of Revolutions Brew Sid and Nancy at 6.9%. But who the hell is going to do that?
In all honesty, I would have stayed for a session but a man ordered curry from West Bar Tandoori so I had to go home and eat. Despite this disruption, the above is once again, a fine example of two more impeccable Sheffield pub sessions.
Brilliant.
Wee Beefy.
I was out Monday night (I know, I know, call the AA, etc..) with the assembled Rotherhamia in the Rutland Arms, a pub you may remember from much more posts in 2012. Its nothing personal of course, just that now that eminent overseer Mr Stephens has left the Death Star Canteen to be in the Death Star Canteen but elsewhere, I have been in other pubs instead. Anyhoo.....
Neil texted me as I waited for the twat tractor from work and advised that him and Jane were in the Rutty for an hour, and that I may wish to join them. Well, loving standing in the open sewer of Waingate though I was, I opted to hot foot it to the Rutland and join in. First up was a half of the West Weizen, and a pint of Revolutions Brew Sid and Nancy, because its from Revolutions. It also had a rather pleasing pump clip.
I nibbled some food, supped my delightful hoppy ale and talked with good friends. Only after I started my second pint, having finished a decent if underwhelming West, did I realise, or rather, find out, that the Sid and Nancy was 6.9%! Because yer see, the thing about pumpclips is that amongst other things, they almost always confirm the beer's strength. Whereas my pumpclip espying is a more brewery identification based assessment....
Throughout the night I did go on to sample other beers, one of which was clearly black, but considering that Neil was demolishing a procession of pints of Magic Rock High Wire, which I also tried a half of, its difficult to explain how I managed to become so very tired. Unless I had several more Sid and Nancy that is.....
Finally recovered tonight, I popped briefly in the Shakespeares for a few. I started on a very quaffable and enjoyable pint of Oldershaw Grantham Dark, before I had two halves of Brew Co Topaz, and halves of Otley O3 and Welbeck Cavendish. The Otley was surprisingly low on flavour, and the Cavendish a bit biscuity wheat, but the Topaz was excellent. So I had a (second) pint of that as well.
Obviously, I could have partaken of a beer from the cellar - or, indeed, a pint of Revolutions Brew Sid and Nancy at 6.9%. But who the hell is going to do that?
In all honesty, I would have stayed for a session but a man ordered curry from West Bar Tandoori so I had to go home and eat. Despite this disruption, the above is once again, a fine example of two more impeccable Sheffield pub sessions.
Brilliant.
Wee Beefy.
Sunday, 21 April 2013
Single Pub Of Contact
Afternoon,
I'm noticing a bit of a trend to my drinking patterns lately. Not just obvious markers such as "to excess" and "recklessly" but more subtle patterns are emerging. I seem to be finding myself wanting to stay put once I get to a good pub.
This isn't exactly a groundbreaking outlook of course, but one of the things that has happened as a result of this blog is that I sometimes visit quite a few pubs in one "session" so that I have stuff to report. It's not like the blog owns me - because I enjoy tasting different beers, and soaking up different atmospheres in venues. And also, the walking between pubs probably does me good.
However over the last week the concept of a session, in its traditional sense of staying in one pub, has become more prominent. Staying put is the new crawl. I think it may catch on, much like other recent inventions, such as the wheel....
If you want to try out my new hobby, you will need the following:
A : a good pub
B : a few good beers to choose from
C : some money
D : plenty of time
Last night I followed the above recipe with some success, as below...
I was heading to the Closed Shop and was meeting Wee Keefy for a few drinks. I knew he was only coming out for a couple, after which he'd likely be off home so I planned to wander down to the Uni Arms or the Bath afterwards. There was an exemplary range of beer on again at the Shop, and it was really busy when I arrived at about half 7. I got a grammatically accurate pork pie and a pint of the excellent Dancing Duck Dark Drake and awaited the arrival of the brother of mine.
The Dark Drake was on excellent form so when he arrived, and, as everyone does, went to the upper part of the bar to look at the beers on the top two pumps instead of reading the sign, I recommended it to him, and got another pint for myself. In the end he had a half of Robinsons Unicorn and half a Drake. We were soon ensconced with good beers surrounded by people enjoying good beers. This is a heady and largely irresistible cocktail.
I had half of the Welbeck Dark Horse next (two dark beers out of 6 - spoilt!) and half a blue Bee Tangled Up IPA, as did WK, and we continued chatting. At some point Father O-matic arrived with Pete Green from the world of writing. It transpired he was having some sort of birthday so once WK had sloped off home like a good lad I joined the party and spent a very agreeable few hours talking beer and pubs and, erm, other things. I also accidentally had numerous pints of Tangled Up IPA. I think this made me sleepy.
Alas the throng departed around 23.00 and I had to find the cash for another half to last me until I had to leave for the night bus. I'd been sat in the Closed Shop for about 4 hours and enjoyed every minute of it. And to be honest, once I was in, I never gave the idea of moving on a second thought.
A similar thing happened on Friday, although for reasons of mastication I did venture on from pub number one in the end. I'd headed for Shakespeares after work with Mr Howard from the world of music, and we sat in the beer garden, in defiance of common sense, enjoying the echoes of sunlight that were imprinted on the scene from earlier. We were both on pints of the rather smashing Raw Mount Adam, a zingily hoppy, fruity, pale beer cramming in loads of flavour at 3.6%.
We were soon joined by Steve who went for old reliable Deception whilst I had another Raw. As our conversation turned to that Woman the atmosphere became more charged and passionate and it was only right that my next pint was of Steel City Brewing Metal Fatigue, with just the right amount of bitterness to represent the feelings of the brewers toward the subject figure, and just enough hops to make its drinking enjoyable and valedictory at the same time. A very good beer.
More Raw followed but alas Dave and Stave were off to get smashed on Buckfast and play gin rummy (have I remembered this right?!) so I stopped for a last one before heading on to eat. That last beer was a pint of the strong Arbor and Bristol beer factory English IPA, a surprisingly soupy but not unenjoyable concoction that may have been brewed with British hops.
My final and thus non session stop off was in the Bath Hotel, where I had one of their legendary hot roast pork sarnies, a half of Raw Pacific Gem and a pint of the Bristol Beer Factory Bitter Californian. There's been plenty of Brizzle stuff up in Sheffield lately and quite frankly that can only be a good thing.
So it seems that I have used the above recipe to end up in two cracking pubs drinking great beer. Although, having left to go to the Bath, I think I've not completely nailed this new hobby. Here's to my getting plenty more practice at staying in pubs for a long time.....
Wee Beefy
I'm noticing a bit of a trend to my drinking patterns lately. Not just obvious markers such as "to excess" and "recklessly" but more subtle patterns are emerging. I seem to be finding myself wanting to stay put once I get to a good pub.
This isn't exactly a groundbreaking outlook of course, but one of the things that has happened as a result of this blog is that I sometimes visit quite a few pubs in one "session" so that I have stuff to report. It's not like the blog owns me - because I enjoy tasting different beers, and soaking up different atmospheres in venues. And also, the walking between pubs probably does me good.
However over the last week the concept of a session, in its traditional sense of staying in one pub, has become more prominent. Staying put is the new crawl. I think it may catch on, much like other recent inventions, such as the wheel....
If you want to try out my new hobby, you will need the following:
A : a good pub
B : a few good beers to choose from
C : some money
D : plenty of time
Last night I followed the above recipe with some success, as below...
I was heading to the Closed Shop and was meeting Wee Keefy for a few drinks. I knew he was only coming out for a couple, after which he'd likely be off home so I planned to wander down to the Uni Arms or the Bath afterwards. There was an exemplary range of beer on again at the Shop, and it was really busy when I arrived at about half 7. I got a grammatically accurate pork pie and a pint of the excellent Dancing Duck Dark Drake and awaited the arrival of the brother of mine.
The Dark Drake was on excellent form so when he arrived, and, as everyone does, went to the upper part of the bar to look at the beers on the top two pumps instead of reading the sign, I recommended it to him, and got another pint for myself. In the end he had a half of Robinsons Unicorn and half a Drake. We were soon ensconced with good beers surrounded by people enjoying good beers. This is a heady and largely irresistible cocktail.
I had half of the Welbeck Dark Horse next (two dark beers out of 6 - spoilt!) and half a blue Bee Tangled Up IPA, as did WK, and we continued chatting. At some point Father O-matic arrived with Pete Green from the world of writing. It transpired he was having some sort of birthday so once WK had sloped off home like a good lad I joined the party and spent a very agreeable few hours talking beer and pubs and, erm, other things. I also accidentally had numerous pints of Tangled Up IPA. I think this made me sleepy.
Alas the throng departed around 23.00 and I had to find the cash for another half to last me until I had to leave for the night bus. I'd been sat in the Closed Shop for about 4 hours and enjoyed every minute of it. And to be honest, once I was in, I never gave the idea of moving on a second thought.
A similar thing happened on Friday, although for reasons of mastication I did venture on from pub number one in the end. I'd headed for Shakespeares after work with Mr Howard from the world of music, and we sat in the beer garden, in defiance of common sense, enjoying the echoes of sunlight that were imprinted on the scene from earlier. We were both on pints of the rather smashing Raw Mount Adam, a zingily hoppy, fruity, pale beer cramming in loads of flavour at 3.6%.
We were soon joined by Steve who went for old reliable Deception whilst I had another Raw. As our conversation turned to that Woman the atmosphere became more charged and passionate and it was only right that my next pint was of Steel City Brewing Metal Fatigue, with just the right amount of bitterness to represent the feelings of the brewers toward the subject figure, and just enough hops to make its drinking enjoyable and valedictory at the same time. A very good beer.
More Raw followed but alas Dave and Stave were off to get smashed on Buckfast and play gin rummy (have I remembered this right?!) so I stopped for a last one before heading on to eat. That last beer was a pint of the strong Arbor and Bristol beer factory English IPA, a surprisingly soupy but not unenjoyable concoction that may have been brewed with British hops.
My final and thus non session stop off was in the Bath Hotel, where I had one of their legendary hot roast pork sarnies, a half of Raw Pacific Gem and a pint of the Bristol Beer Factory Bitter Californian. There's been plenty of Brizzle stuff up in Sheffield lately and quite frankly that can only be a good thing.
So it seems that I have used the above recipe to end up in two cracking pubs drinking great beer. Although, having left to go to the Bath, I think I've not completely nailed this new hobby. Here's to my getting plenty more practice at staying in pubs for a long time.....
Wee Beefy
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