Ship, Shalesmoor, Sheffield, reopens

Hello all,

        apologies for avoiding an all too obvious tabloid pun here, but I won't mention that the ship is in anyway connected to water or not sinking. Well, apart from I just have. I mean thereafter. Last night, a night after the soft launch, I was there for the public reopening of the Ship Inn on Shalesmoor which closed due to financial problems of the previous landlord in January 2015.

As you may know, on Wednesday night I was at the reopening of the Red House on Solly Street. I mentioned that, as well as there only being six customers, the pub hadn't publicised its reopening. Interestingly, I quoted from the previous landlord of the Ship regarding the lack of local trade. Given that this scenario hasn't changed, and I struggled to find much social media coverage of the reopening, perhaps have a guess at how busy the Ship was last night....

It was rammed. Absolutely chock-a-block with persons of all ages and outlooks and drinking preferences. We arrived around 20.00 and when we had been served our drinks were lucky to find a spot to sit, in the area near the side door, with Saxbob Swift. We actually started the night on keg beers - mainly because it was very warm inside the pub, we were very thirsty, and the only enticing real ale was Old Moor Porter. I had a pint of Schiehallion, the Harviestoun lager beer, Tash a pint of BrewDog Punk IPA and Matty a Charles Wells DBA.

It was striking to see how many people I recognised, mainly because some. I'm sure, we had seen in the Ship before. Local drinkers there may be few but if their regulars used to travel across the city to drink there, they appear to still be doing. It was good to catch up with Bob and he seemed to get on well with Matty, and it was also good to spot Chris Bamford and others from Shakespeares enjoying the atmosphere and the beers.

We went cask next - and all had pints of the Acorn Old Moor Porter. The other casks on offer were Acorn Blonde (which changed to that from something else!) Greedy King Old Golden Hen and Kelham Island Easy Rider. I appreciate that the keg beers give the pub a different angle for drinkers, but I have to say the cask choice was better before - always local ales, always sold at a bargain price and always something hoppy. Punk IPA is probably the hoppiest beer there and there was nothing on cask last night that matched it in that respect.

Now, the pub has an impeccable tiled Tomlinsons Brewery frontage, and this, obviously, has been retained. However, inside they have exposed tiling around the windows which looks fantastic. The end room where the pool table used to be now houses a large bottled beer fridge and a single round table and the access to the loos is the same, from that room. I didn't, alas, due to how busy the pub was, get to see what happened to its fabulous original 1970's jukebox. I think it may have been lost.

A couple of windows were broken whilst the pub was shut and they along with another large one from the front have been removed. The plain glass widows allow much more light in and the pub is brighter lit so its stands out more. Inside the decor is more modern, but not in a way that distracts, but its difficult to make that assessment on a night where the pub was so busy.

Out of the three pubs that have reopened in Sheffield in the last week this was far and away the busiest I have seen. It will be interesting to see if this now becomes part of the Don Valley real ale trail, specially as so many CAMRA members never seemed to drink in the Ship, despite it selling 4 local real ales for years.

One last thing to note is the food - I imagine they probably stop serving at 20.00 or 21.00 but Matty was there before then and saw only on person eating. The Ship never previously did food, apart from crisps and nuts (it now does pork crackles from a jar and they are gorgeous by the way!) and nobody seemed interesting in eating. This, in some ways, suggests the pub's past as a down to earth drinking venue maybe at least partially retained. Sheffield needs more real ale boozers where food either isn't served or is equal to the provision of real ales. The Blake in Walkley is a great example of the first.

Am hoping to revisit next week after payday, including the Red House and the Punchbowl on Crookes. Its always interesting to see how a pub fares after its reopening night. To repeat what I previously said, I wish all three licencees the very best in their pub ventures, and look forward to helping them enjoy success.


Cheers

Wee Beefy

Ship aground

Hello,

         today I had some shocking news about the closure of another Sheffield real ale pub. On Saturday I did overtime and wanted a pint around 15.00 - en route I stopped by the pub and found a security sign in the window and no sign of life - as it was, I went on to the Wellington to enjoy two of the most relaxing quiet pints of my recent years. And I did mean to discuss the pub with someone but never did...

The Ship at Shalesmoor, I heard tonight, has closed, as the landlord has got into financial difficulties. The security signs therefore, were genuine, and the pub has ceased trading. I understand the family from which the current landlord came, had run the pub for three generations. This is no longer the case

What I liked most about the Ship was its quiet, and the ebb and flow of customers. Having been in a few times on Saturday afternoon there were always regulars in and football was on the telly. This did not override the ancient jukebox when it was on, although that became very rare I understand. On the bar were three, then four real ales, none of which were from owners Greene King. The landlord was stoic in his support for local, and guest beers, almost all regardless of strength, were sold for £2.70 a pint.

On Fridays and perhaps Saturdays, if you stayed long you could hear the landlady walking round and asking about who wanted a Chinese (meal) around 23.30. This was then delivered, and anyone was welcome to order. The doors seemed t look late and service went on lat most nights.

The landlord was knowledgeabe and friendly and crucially, knew what he and his customers liked. It is a great shame that he will no longer be behind that great bar to pull delicious pints of real ale. Lets hope, now, that the pub remains open.

Cheers

Wee Beefy

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

Rivelin to beer valley pub stumble

Morning,

     yesterday I headed off for a walk in the old stomping ground of Stannington and Rivelin. Its so easy to get to the Rivelin Valley from Crookes me and Carlos were probably in  it every weekend in summer. And winter, come to think. One of the anomalies about the valley though is that there are only realistically three  pubs actually in it. And one, the Norfolk Arms which was a good mile up from the Rivelin post office, is now a nursing home.

So in fact this leaves just the Holly Bush and the Rivelin, with a smattering of decent boozers on the higher reaches, namely Stannington and at a push Crookes and Walkley. For reasons of change, I explored the Stannington side, sampling the pubs as I went along.

I started on Stannington Road up from the Anvil where the bus turns into the estate. I toiled up the hill to the Sportsman, which, despite being the first pub on the route, I didn't venture into, even though they used to sell real ale a few years back. I walked up into the older part of the village and stopped off at the Peacock. This Thwaites eatery does still retain a drinkers bar area on the left but to be fair its so hot in there I always prefer sitting outside. Just two real ales on in here but they always sell Thwaites Nutty Black, at £2.80 a pint currently. It seemed the ideal drink since the mild month of May had only just finished.

The Peacock doesn't really implore me to hang around but it sells a decent pint, much like my next stop Minnies, the Rose and Crown. A solid looking pub with a large car park in front and the Loxley Valley stretching out behind it, there are usually 1 or two real ales on here, and almost always Bradfield Brewery beers. This time, the Bradfield had run out, but there was a guest mild! For a traditional Sheffield drinkers pub that was quite a shock, nearly as mush as it being from Caledonian. Mayhem mild was very palatable, but expensive at £1.64 a half.

Moving on uphill and I was glad to find the imposing Crown and Glove open. There's a central entrance and two rooms, with a former dram shop window directly in front of you. Two real ales on here, normally three, and from a choice of Wentworth WPA, (which always seems to be the cheaper option) and Thornbridge Lord Marples, I opted for a pint of the latter.

I sat outside in bright sunshine looking across the fields to Crosspool, supping what was quite a palatable Marples. Its still a sigh beer for me but in comparison with the pale facsimile of itself that WPA has become it was probably the better choice. Mind you, possibly due to Thornbridge's pricing policy and the fact that the pub is owned by a greedy pubco, its price was a little less palatable - £3.35 a pint. Not that there's anywhere much cheaper nearby but that is very steep.

I walked on down past the church and through the fields, now getting a view of the forlorn ruin of the Bell Hagg Inn on the other side of the Valley. Zooming in with my camera there looks to be some sort of work going on, and, as I'd never previously realised, there is a whole other building built below it. Unfortunately nothing is being done to safeguard the road level structure so no miraculous return is pending.

I came out on Tofts lane in glorious sunshine and found the Rivelin busy. Unfortunately the handpumps remain unused and it appears they have given up on selling real ale. A shame for this picturesque local, especially since there's insufficient intactness of layout or other original features to make it worth tolerating a keg beer.

I made my way along the side of the valley as far as was possible, and eventually bit the bullet and headed near  vertically back up to Stannington Road, heading for the Anvil. The place was packed and was probably the best pub of the day at that point. Still retaining some signs of its original layout it also has a traditional difference in luxury between what would have been a separate bar or games room on the right, and the larger sprawl on he left.

I had a pint of Bradfield Farmers Blonde, £2.89, a much needed drink served at the right temperature - cool, but not cold. The pub was rammed, and plenty of people had migrated to the handful of seats outside.  Inside, as well as the bar room there probably used to be two rooms on the left. The potential division isn't obvious but there is a front and side wall fireplace so I think one per room would have made sense. As you enter there are two doors, further demonstrating the separate rooms, and I assume the first of the rooms would have been accessed from an entrance lobby. Its fanciful speculation I realise, especially not having any actual architectural background, but its interesting trying to guess how it would have looked.

Down to mousehole next and I took the path past the dam and ended up on Hollins Lane at the Holly Bush. I didn't have any great hopes for this pub - its proximity to the latter stages of the Rivelin Valley walk and its popularity with families (as attested on a large canvas banner as you approach) made me fear the worst but actually, what with everyone sat in the sun outside, its quite an interesting old pub inside. The first priority was to sort out refreshments - I had a half of Black Sheep Bitter (the other choice was Hobgoblin)  and went and sat outside in the sun trap at the back.

My next surprise was just how pleasant the Black Sheep was. It isn't a classic by any means but it was kept really well and was very refreshing. So much so, that, sat in the sun amid vibrant greenery,  with the trees gently swishing above, I opted for another pint.

In the pub, there are two rooms, with the entrance on the side leading to a smaller room and the larger part of the central bar's counter on the right, and a large lounge on the left. There is also a corridor next to the bar linking both rooms to the loos which have quite old doors on them. And the bonus of it catering to families is not only the useful sale of chocolate bars but also a fairly impressive array of soft drinks, possibly aimed at drivers. An enjoyable visit.

I walked from here into Malin Bridge and caught the bus to the Wellington. The walk was all but over, now it was time for a sup. I had a very refreshing pint of Little Ale Cart Harleys Galaxy special, which I was told was not a single hopped beer as I'd claimed (sozzard) but was in fact brewed with galaxy and erm, yer know, the other one, and a hop called I stopped listening. But thanks for the gen! It was also a bargain £2.40 a pint. I took it outside with me and sat in the sun once again, listening to the conversation and trying to photograph the fully unfurled but mostly rolled up, England flag. I failed.

An impromptu visit to the Kelham Island Tavern followed, where I had a pint of Yorkshire Dales Swinacore Pale, a spicy pale ale brewed with Sorachi Ace, and a half of Blackedge Dark. This was so good in fact that, having secured a seat outside in the sun I went back for another. The KIT was absolutely rammed, with a constant procession of punters arriving all the time I was there. Always good to see a pub thriving.

My penultimate stop was the Ship. To my horror the Bradfield Pale from the night before (my favourite Bradfield beer by a distance) had run out. In its place was an equally enjoyable Welbeck Fruit Cascade, which was nowhere near as grim as it sounds. Subtle fruit sits in the background behind a pleasantly hoppy bitter, which was an ideal pint to sup, sat with the sunshine streaming into an initially empty pub. Bliss.

Finally I ended my journey at Shakespeares, sat in the beer garden, supping halves of the Ashover smoked ale and Little Valley Python, a 6.0% IPA. I was joined briefly by Robin who was having a quick bite to eat, and it became obvious during our conversation that it was really the end of my day of refreshments. And so it was that I headed home from here for a much needed rest.

A great day out walking and drinking was had in some old favourites and a few less often visited pubs. Rivelin's pubs were the cheapest on the walk (if you include the Anvil) and despite the Stannington venues being costlier at least they all offered real ale. If you head into Loxley the situation doesn't change, and up the other side of Rivelin all the Crosspool and Crookes pubs sell real ale. So all the more reason to sup in the area.

Wee Beefy.      

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

The Bath, a bash and the Ship.

Now then,

     A friend's birthday meant I was out and about around West Street on a Saturday night, which although I did the same for Wee Keefy's birthday a few weeks ago, is still a rarity for me. As it turned out, an unplanned turn of events meant I also ended up having another enjoyable session in a fantastic pub.

I met Fluff at the Bath Hotel for a few warm up pints. It was nice to bump in to Steff fir the first time in a a while and when Fluff arrived just as I was buying my beer it was the start of a night of good timings and fortuitous outcomes. We both had pints of Bristol Beer Factory Seven, a surprisingly refreshing copper coloured beer with a lot of quite heavy but perfectly balanced malts in the mix. We sat in the main room, struggling to hear ourselves over the loudest blokes in the world, supping and talking beer.

We also had time for a pint each of the Hawkshead Brodies Prime.I only tried this once before, at the Sheffield Tap, on the day that Brodie Clark resigned. Who he you may ask? Well, its not that important, but noteworthy that in the clamour to discover who he really was when he hit the headlines, I found that top of the first page of search results on Google, was his entry on the ".....is a c*nt" website! Clearly a top bloke....

The beer, luckily, shares none of his attributed or alleged characteristics, being a full flavoured dark brew with a pleasing hoppy edge, that set us on our way nicely.

Next we caught up with the throng in the Frog and Parrot. Its always been an odd pub for me, its certainly conveniently placed, always rammed, but has never really seemed to make much of an effort on beers, although back in the mid noughties I did find them selling a pint of Itchen Valley Fagans from a range of about five. Things seem to have fallen off a bit since then (possibly due to it being owned by Greedy King?).

There were 4 beers on, 3 Greedy King and a guest, which promptly went off (Kelham Island Pride of Sheffield) when I ordered it, so I ordered me and Fluff pints of Twisted Wheel ( a"guest" no less) which was a Greedy King-ish beer with lemon in it. Not too bad actually, especially given the other options of weakened OSH and their IPA.

We stayed for another in here with the birthday girl, Miss Wish, with some decent music playing and a procession of trips to the beer garden for the smokers, whilst me and Fluff caught up with friends in the group. Alas the parties diverged at this point with the revelers, wearing a variety of excellent apparel, headed for the Green Room. Me and Fluff bade our farewell and headed to the Ship at Shalesmoor.

I hadn't actually planned to do this so it was a pleasant surprise, and when we got there it was packed. Considering, as I've mentioned before, there really aren't any local clientele  it was impressive just how busy the pub was. One thing I have noticed before is that I am usually one of the youngest customers - and since Fluff is slightly older than me that didn't change this time!

On the bar were the usual 3 real ales, Kelham Pale Rider, Abbeydale Moonshine and Welbeck Ernest George. I wasn't sure I'd had that one before, and being a fan of Welbeck beer I opted for a pint of that. A fantastic well rounded quaffable dark beer was what I found. And once we got a table, it was clear that we would be in for the rest of the night.

Unusually I stuck with the same beer - there seemed no point changing when the Welbeck was so damned good. Fluff was likely on the same, Col on Pale Rider, and Sue on lager. A few good tunes came on the juke box (which I had only previously admired for its retro qualities, instead of attempting to use it) and we relaxed (some more), talked and soaked up the atmosphere.

Its true to say that there are a dwindling number of pubs like the Ship. A long standing landlord, a good deal with a Pubco (actually, to be fair, its Greedy King that he has some sort of tie in with, not sure on the details though...) a dedicated troupe of regulars, pool and other pub games teams, 1970's furnishings abound, inexpensive well kept real ale is on sale and its probably, in terms of Sheffield, the epitome of a "proper pub".

Fitting then that we should have been in for a proper session  drinking great beer, before stumbling outside to clamber in a beer chariot home. You don't get many nights that just remain great from the start, but this was one of them. Thanks to my companions as well for making it a good night all round.

If you haven't made it in yet, I strongly suggest you make the effort to visit the Ship.

Wee Beefy

Man walks into a pub. Then another. Then...

Hello,

      over the past week I have been all over the shop, as they say, drinking in different counties, the throes of a Twissup and CAMRA award winning rural pubs, like the concept of Sheffield as the beer capital was long forgotten. Aside from any CAMRA rivalry of course, its not forgotten. Its just that other locations have took my fancy. By way of illustration, here's a (brief as possible) who's got what of local hostelries over the past 8 days.

Firstly, The Riverside. I only ever seem to get here on busy Friday evenings after work and have never really taken to the pub. Perhaps my usual demarcation to a corner of he bar before spewing out onto the patio when its packed has skewed my appreciation, but I gained a little the other night. I had an excellent pint of Blue Bee Parenthesis, a great hoppy dry bitter which did everything it didn't say by being named parenthesis, but crucially tasted fab.

I sat down on a comfy sofa in a cosily lit part of the bar near the opened out fireplace, admiring the lights outside and listening to some fairly excellent dub. Sometimes music in pubs can be a blight, but its untypical of the traditional boozer and its slightly cafe bar intentions are well suited to decent tunes. Especially when they really are. Another pint of the Blue Bee followed, as well as a tour of the upstairs before I headed off to sample a few other boozers.

One such was the Woodside Inn. This was only my second visit, and it didn't seem much busier, but there was a steady stream of arrivees to play in a darts match. Alas, no-one but me seemed to be supping real ale,m but the halves of Sheffield Brew Co Stainless went down really well, and still on at a decent price. Also disappointing was another poor Wood Street brew, although I opted for a taste first. I understand the pubs reinvention has seen the "original" owners return - am unsure if this is true but I hope they can recapture whatever it was the losing off made them depart.

The Gardeners rest was having a quiet night, but was enchanting visitors with excellent beers as always, and another plus was that I got a chance to catch up with Pat who I've not talked to for a while.

Here I had a half of Privateer Beers Dainty Blonde, plus another half of the Parenthesis, at which point I bumped into Brewer Rich. We did have quite a detailed discussion about the punctuation theme of his beers, the details of which I would suggest neither of us could remember. I also had a half pint of the Black Swan from Vale, which was nice, but there was a hint of sweetness in the Privateer which I wasn't keen on.

The Wellington is still sort of an irregular haunt so it was nice to pop in and have a pint - despite a darkish beer being on I went for a Little Ale Cart Eldorado, specially brewed with the hop of the same name. This was a really well balanced bitter beer, which, if only I went more often and the beers didn't change every day or so, I'd like to try again.

The Ship on Shalesmoor was selling my favourite Kelham Island beer Bette Noire so that's what I had in there, which was on great form and a decent price at £2.80 a pint, before I headed off to Shakespeares, via some dubious late night scran.

On this visit I had a rather odd but not unenjoyable half of Julian Church Brewery Martyr, and a rather ill advised half of Flying Dog K9, which was easier to drink than its high strength suggested, and didn't have too much of that odd Belgerican yeast.

I was also in on Friday with Mr G, supping the last of a barrel of Raw Pacific Gem, which was nice enough, as well as a further pint of Revolutions Clash London Porter for me. Nice to see the Porter again, just a shame the Gem was so very tired.

Prior to this I had been in DAda, enjoying a couple of pints of the reasonable Lumford (now now DAda, a lack of non Thornbridge beers doesn't suit you and you know it), yet so un-tempting was the cask range (after Lumford ran out) that myself and Mr G retired to a comfy spot to very slowly drink Thornbridge Chiron and Thorny Goat. Chiron did not disappoint, but the Keykeg Goat is a poor relative of the much better cask. Bring it back dammit!

The final bit of news is not about Sheffield pubs but about Bottle Conditioned Ale. Following on from my post about the CAMRA says this is real ale logo, I discovered to my horror more sour yeasty soup masquerading as a drinkable bottle of beer. Despite Wee Fatha's astonishing claim that he would drink it because it seemed a shame to pour it away, which is heroically disingenuous, we replaced it instantly with a much safer none BCA option.

I am going to have to contact the brewery concerned to make them aware of the problem, and hopefully arrange recompense, but in a producer, retailer, promoter(logo), customer, arrangement, I'd argue that having also bought the product from the brewer the two parties looking most shoddy from this situation are the brewery and the logo owning promoters; CAMRA. I can see this issue will be long in the resolution....

So, that's all for now, hopefully I will have more news in the coming days.

Cheers!

Wee Beefy

A Sheffield pub crawl

Hoppy new year readers!

    today I shall provide you with details of my Christmas (ish) ramble round some (but not all) of Sheffield's best real ale pubs with barkeep extraordinaire Barraharri. The idea was to steadfastly avoid well known haunts in the centre of town, and the classic most popular real ale free houses of the Kit, the Cat, the Gardeners Rest and the Harlequin. Instead, we were to start at the station and make our way along back streets and byways and bus routes to some of the less central beer haunts, and to some of those worthy of visiting for no reason at all other than them being good.

 Sheffield Tap, Rutland Arms

We started here at noon ( well, ahem, I did) and sampled two excellent beers to start our adventure, the hoppy above its weight bite of Magic Rock Curious, and the heavy hammer blow roast malt of Kirkstall black band porter. Being our starting point this was but a brief visit, and we were quickly off to sample the delights of the Rutland.

Here we thought about sustenance but decided it was too early, Barraharri renegotiated his mortgage on the phone, I acquired a free Tolly Cobbold pint glass, and we each had a pint of Blue Bee Nectar Pale ale and Milton Pegasus. Barra's Milton was a bit odd, quite sweet and almost metallic, certainly a curious mix that didn't suggest a return tasting, and my Nectar was a bit limp and not very itself. Interestingly, the comparison I am making is with the best Blue Bee Nectar Pale I ever tasted, which was at the Rutland!

Three Cranes, Dog and Partridge and Grapes and Dada

We intended to pop in all of the Trippet trio but not before my only daytime arrival in the Cranes. It was a little subdued but between Christmas and New Year is a weird time where pubs don't seem to follow any set rules about opening times and expected trade - and neither do punters. More than one beer caught my eye so I opted for halves of Blue Bee Lustin for Stout and Abbeydale Black Mass. BH stuck with a pint of the Bee, and I think that may have been a better choice, the Lustin for Stout was in excellent form but the Black Mass was tired and ready for an honourable retirement.

Next we headed up to Trippet Lane. We decided to grace the Dog and Partridge owing to its precarious fortunes but for the second time in a fortnight there was no real ale on. There are doubtless many reasons why this is, but i have to say i am starting to worry that the present incumbent isn't acting in the best interests of this redoubtable institution, which would be an insurmountable loss to Sheffield. That said, this was a real ale crawl, so no lingering for us!

Round tcorner was the Grapes and we headed in here for a duo of Abbeydale - halves each of Moonshine and Absolution. Both were in OK condition but weirdly it was almost impossible to tell them apart flavour wise - has Absolution been docked hops for misbehaving? The pub was busy and there was food available on the bar, we sat in the cosy right hand room which, eagle eyed BH  spotted, seems to have quite a few wall pictures/displays devoted to the Dog and Partridge. Quite ironic considering...

Dada across the road was also a place I visited in day time for the first time and there are some pics to prove it.

A daylight visit if anything increases the coldness of the decor although some aspects are in fact less harsh, but it also makes it easier to get a feel for the place. Apart from opening out the small snug on the right as you enter (which may only have been so by virtue of a large item of furniture ) there is no structural change, and some improvements in that in the aforesaid area you can now sit at a real table in comfort and everything.

Beers wise, mainly for reasons of sense, we only had halves, and avoided the Thorngridge plus 7% Yule, opting instead for a half each of Fyne Ales Holly Days, which was a tad pricey at £3.20, but a rare if slightly odd beer all the same.

The Hop, The Bath Hotel and the University Arms

Up onto West street next and then we headed into the Hop at West One. Food was on our minds so we sensibly opted for the pie and pint deal at a bargain fiver each. Both of us had the steak and ale, and both a pint of the Ossett Pale Gold. Personally I found the Pale a bit disappointing really, am glad I hadn't chosen it as my first pint in there on that occasion, otherwise I may have thought slightly less of returning. Overall though, the deal did what it promised and the music was OK as well.

Through West One we went to the Bath Hotel, pretty busy for late afternoon, and I tried a pint of Deception, and Barraharri a pint of Smarts best bitter from Preston. The Deception was very palatable and the Smarts a signature North West real ale with a slight sweetness in it, but both were enjoyable and were a pleasant accompaniment to being sat near the fire in the cosy back room.

Our next stop was to have been the University Arms, however, as if to prove me right about weird inter festive openings, the pub was steadfastly shut, occasioning a hop on a bus up to Crookes for the next part of the crawl.

Crookes - Princess Royal, Hallamshire House and Blake Hotel.

Crookes, I often describe in jest, is in the wilds, out in the sticks, but no word of a lie it was chuffing perishing up there that night. As a result, we were grateful of a warm and a feed in the chip shop which used to be called Bolehill chip shop, and which now, having changed its name without consulting me, my brain refuses to recall the name of. Food in hand we made our way through stair rods and side siling sleat to our next pub.

The Prinny had its usual roster of ales to try, and to try and maximise the benefits of a second nosh in about an hour we stuck to halves again. Barraharri and myself both had the Farmers Blonde, if nothing else, to provide some sort of contrast or comparison with that on offer at Harrisons 1854. The Prinny version was found to be in good nick, and Barraharri seemed to enjoy discovering a pub he would otherwise maybe not have heard of and, as I pointed out, one so traditional in decor and layout.

Downhill (perhaps in more ways than one) next, and we arrived in the Hallamshire House at Commonside. I wasn't wanting to disrupt our period of reigning in excess so we opted for halves in here as well, despite a stellar range of Thornbridge offerings. I have to say though, I was fairly gobsmacked by the proposed price of a pint of Thornbridge Brachia - it was £9.60!?! (WTF). On being told this by the barman, I could only say " no its not ". He replied that it was as it said so on the clip, but I made it clear that it wasn't that price in reality here on planet earth. A truly uunbelievable price.

Still, we conquered our palpitations and Barraharri had Wild Swan and myself a very very nice McConnells Irish Stout. Alas, even this experience was soured, as I noted with dismay that they had managed to de-quirk the small snug on the left. Now, although retaining its fire, it was a clinically tidy dull grey and green tribute to asinine mediocrity, with endless unnecessary old photos on the wall. What a shame it no longer looks like it did in the image below :

Our spirits were however, lifted by a trip to the Blake. I had not been in for a couple of months so this was a nice chance to return and once again bring someone with me who had never been before. Barraharri perhaps quite optimistically went for a whole pint of the dark stuff - not the nitrogen laced over promoted gunk but the Celt Experience Dark Age. I only had a half, but also, having been a bit tired of thought and poor of seeing, mistook the "Ariel" of the Ariel Square Four pumpclip from Concertina, as Arkells, and ordered half of that. Alas, not only was it not of course Arkells, but it was also at the end of the barrel, and was swapped instead for a pleasant half of something from Salamander with the word Noel in it. We also conducted a brief customer survey of persons to find out whether £9.00 odd a pint was an acceptable price for a 9.5% beer. Resoundingly, and unsurprisingly, the answer was no. (N.B - this rigourously scientific consumer testing was carried out in 2 more pubs with the same result)

Hillsborough Hotel, Wellington, Shalesmoor.

At the hotel there was a decent range of beers but disappointingly for me no dark beers but for one that looked like I might have to go to sleep after drinking it. So we opted for two pints of their traditional bitter. At £2.20 a pint this was competitively priced, however the Double H had somewhat failed to see the bigger picture and it was a really deeply unpleasant beer to drink - and was duly returned.

The staff were a bit surprised but agreed politely, with none of the pointless muttering and lazy beer murderer quotations often used, and did not charge the difference for our replacement pints of the stronger Loxley Gold. That said, this was also not up to its previous best, but was a pleasant enough beer all the same, and the comfy settee's in the right hand room afforded us a catch up and a few pics.

The Cask and Welly was our destination as we wandered now a little less carefully along Infirmary road. Here we found a decent range of beers including a few from the Little Ale Cart Brewery. Alas they weren't brewing a dark ale at the time so I opted for a half of the Mighty Oak brewery Old Bangers porter/dark ale, which was not like their usual beers and not really to my taste.

Barraharri on the other hand played a masterstroke and picked a half of the Little Ale Cart Fairway (no pun intended). As he remarked this was "probably the clearest beer (he'd) ever seen" and I can certainly attest to the glorious effervescence of this dark golden brew which was perhaps appreciated as much as the pub itself. I don't seem to spend much time here nowadays so may have to take steps to address that in 2012.

Final stumble - Ship Inn and Shakespeares Shalesmoor, Three Tuns.

I was looking forward to a return visit to the Ship since I was in last month, and Barraharri also had it on his list of must see pubs for our trip. Luckily sufficient time had elapsed over the previous 11 pubs to make it opening time, and we found it busy, warm, and selling 3 real ales as usual. We both had pints of the Spire Coal Porter which was really nice. Barraharri agreed that, in having met his expectations, the Ship was a great proper pub, and I don't think I could disagree.

The official final stop was at Shakespeares. By now recollections were becoming non existent and guesswork was all I had so I am willing to suggest I had a pint of Abbeydale Deception, but it could have been that tasty Summer Wine Brewery beer I had the day before. Either way, BH had to run for his last bus not long after we arrived, and I stayed behind briefly to finish whatever the hell I was drinking, then to unknowingly drop my wallet on the floor and have to run back and retrieve it! (thanks to the bar staff and most particularly the kindly customers sat in the left hand room for helping me to be reunited with my cash!)

The unofficial last stop was for me only, having headed towards the bus stop I noticed a pressing need was afoot and the only obvious solution was to find a pub. The Cranes was closed so I went down the road to the Three Tuns, a pub I rarely go in, but one which I thought I might get a seat in to finish my last half and attend to my ahem, business. It was here I realised I had lost my wallet, but once back, I had ten relaxing minutes sat at the top end of the galleon like pub to enjoy a half of Bradfield Belgian Blue.

Overall we tried 13 pubs and had approximately lots of pints in the process. Best beers on the night were the two in the Tap, the Celt Experience in the Blake, the Blue Bee stout in the Cranes, The McConnells in the Hallamshire House and the Spire Coal Porter in the Ship. There are even plans afoot for a Dronfield and West Sheffield crawl in the near future!

All the best

Wee Beefy.