Hello,
in order to leach credibility from what is written below I'm going to confess to my inspiration for this post being having seen a post earlier on the Facebook from someone I know runs a pub, who observed, with some horror, that lots of details regarding his pub on a website were a bit wrong. Considerably so. As a direct result of which, I decided to have a look myself, at the CAMRA pubs database. With interesting results.
Before I share my findings, lets give the somewhat beleaguered whatpub.com website from the CAMRA a bit of credit. Keeping a database of licensed premises in the UK with 7000 closing every time we draw breath and 7000 reopening as amusement arcades selling angostura bitters every 4 seconds, is undoubtedly a massive ball ache. Every time you look round another venue has sprouted with "edgy" names like the 17th November Bar and Glittergang Lounge, and frankly, recording and updating this must be a heinous task.
Also, the fact that the CAMRA have listed none real ale venues is interesting, and not without merit since it includes the above types of establishment. Ones which, whilst perhaps less susceptible to closure than your traditional boozer, are much more likely to morph.
So after reading about its woes, and being a bit cheeky searching for the Royal Cottage, a pub which I concede until Friday I also won't know for certain is still open, I decided to try the site out properly. I was focusing on real ale only establishments that I know, to see if the gripes of licencees were born of isolated glitches, or representative of a wider malaise (counter arguments of CAMRA stalwarts that data updates went awry not withstanding)
And in summary - I have no idea.
I say this because lots of pubs I know are recorded accurately - ones specially chosen included Henry's and Interval and the Anglers Rest in Richmond/Handsworth. I reasoned that their unusual names or location outside the CAMRAsphere might trip the CAMRA up but they seem pretty much spot on. So far so good then. Lets be a little more keen...
DAda. An interesting venue not least because it attracts a lot of barely concealed ire from trad CAMRA types. Not that its a heaven in a half glass beer utopia by any means. There are faults and reasons to dislike it, but it isn't on the website. Full stop. Yet it was a recent pub of the month nominee. Hmmm...
Next the Hadfield, Barber Road, AKA the Sainsbury's Folly. Currently, in fact since May, boarded up to be converted into something no-one wants. That is still open. Meanwhile The great Gatsby, seller of two real ales on Division Street (last time I went!) is also non existent, likewise the Cwmdu Inn in Cwmdu, a landmark community run multi use pub, of which there is no trace. The Closed Shop is managed by last year's team, the Hallamshire House, open two years, is still selling Sharps Doom bar and guests, but isn't run by Thornbridge, and the Freedom House isn't shut. And so on and so forth.
In the end though, its not actually a bad try. In fact I think the only question is, should it have gone live before they were 100% sure it was accurate?
I think more work and another data upload attempt could have improved it. However, it only claims to list 96% of real ale pubs in Britain. In effect, using my own narrow search criteria, having chosen many banana skin venues, only three don't exist (this excludes non real ale searches) and only five are inaccurate, but the majority, a good twenty five, are correct. Compare that with the accuracy of most pub websites, especially whole of UK pub databases, and I think it fairs pretty well.
Perhaps the only conclusion is that the industry is slow to update and those keen to share that info are bound by the same constraints?
Wee Beefy
Showing posts with label Overreaction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Overreaction. Show all posts
Thursday, 26 September 2013
Monday, 5 November 2012
Pubs, ex-pubs and patches.
Now then,
I have a few droplets of beer news to share, what with it having been the weekend, as well as details of a beer splashed celebration.
I was out and about on Saturday with Wee Keefy celebrating Wee Fatha's 70th birthday. Chosen eatery was the Ladybower Inn, which I have reviewed before, here , and which does a rather fantastic bit of steak. I say "bit", am not sure this is accepted butchers parlance, but for the record, its fillet and its fantastic. Indeed, the last time Wee Keefy went he organised a trip with a few friends solely on the basis of the meaty delights.
That said, to focus on which is neither fair nor wholly comprehensive, in terms of the inn's charms. They also happen to sell five real ales, at usual Derbyshire prices of £3.00 a pint (although I was on the same all night so am unsure if that applies to all beers). Not only that, but on all three of my visits the beer has been in very good nick, and whats more, is usually in the main, locally sourced.
On Saturday the range was Ruddles County, Bradfield Farmers Blonde, Bradfield Poppy Ale, Acorn Barnsley Bitter and Howard Town Snake Ale. The latter was a pleasant well balanced pint, admittedly short of a hop or two, but interestingly perhaps more palatable than the incredibly pale (h) poppy offering from over the hill. All in all you can't escape the pub's food led intent (and we were glad of that on a special occasion) but I think its got to be worth a stop if you are in the area and after a well kept locally brewed beer.
Later that night I was deposited in town to try and search out Fluffy who was celebrating a mate's stag do. An early phone call and text did not help identify their whereabouts but I assumed at some point they'd be in the Rutland.
Starting at DAda, I was shocked to discover that someone was playing a selection of my CD's (if you're unsure what these are, they're like gramophone records or cylinders, or at least they carry the same outdated stigma if you are under 30). At least two of my ska collections had been borrowed whilst I was out, plus a few tracks I wished I had.
This pleasing smorgasbord of sound was washed down with pints of the excellent Fyne Ales Jarl, a beer I'd heard plenty of and seen none. Add to this some cracking olives and a half of yummy fruity Halcyon and this was a great start to my late night socialising.
Alas, no trace could be found of Fluff as the minutes ticked on and I set off for the Bath Hotel for just before 23.00 to find it less than busy. I avoided the hopelessly hopless Kipling and went instead for an Allgates beer that I forget the name of. It tasted fine in the tasting glass but its exposure to the pint pot made it tired and taste of biscuits, or cheap cornflakes. I decided, on the basis of being in a similar state of tiredness, to eschew the obvious draw of the Rutland and head home like a good boy.
In other news, what there is, I noticed that the long drawn out extinction of the East House on Spital Hill has reached a rueful conclusion, at least in terms of it remaining open as a pub. As with so many nearby hostelries, what one might describe as a change in the cultural demographic has seen Pitsmoor and Burngreave stripped of pubs. The latest fate to befall one is that the East House is now yet another "vital" Kebab shop, without who's contribution the very bedrock of Sheffield's trade and financial security would crumble. I can't see anything but further utilisation as an unlicensed premises from here on to be honest.
Finally, much gnashing of teeth proceeded news on Friday of the sale of a hangover cure patch in the UK. The Bytox patch makes some scientifically implausible and even at a casual glance highly dubious claims about wiping out hangovers before they happen by infusing the wearer with various vitamins and nutrients throughout the drinking period.
Apparently the product claims, in this report peppered by over reaction from do-gooders and joyless Methodists here, to do something that somehow enables users to therefore drink without effect. Hence, the reaction in today's Mailtro letters page was full of the rather predictable moralistic outpourings from people convinced that this would lead to more drinking, and therefore directly the destruction of family life and the sanctity of the festive period.
The point they miss is that people who regularly drink absurd quantities of frol to the detriment of their families, ergo the people apparently harming the nation's children, will do so irrespective of the availability of this mugs game wonder cure. The only heinous aspect of its sale is that the company responsible could potentially make money out of hocus pocus, rather than as feared, from any forceful pushing of society into a mire of reckless ebriosity.
No doubt this new attack on family, and the church and the Easter bunny (erm, or some other story?) will only embolden those seeking to swipe aimlessly at every aspect of alcohol production, sale and purchase. How foolish they would feel if they realised that the attacks on the average man's drinking are already being led quite successfully by the Chancellor of the exchequer and the Pubco's!
How we cried in our pints....
Wee Beefy
I have a few droplets of beer news to share, what with it having been the weekend, as well as details of a beer splashed celebration.
I was out and about on Saturday with Wee Keefy celebrating Wee Fatha's 70th birthday. Chosen eatery was the Ladybower Inn, which I have reviewed before, here , and which does a rather fantastic bit of steak. I say "bit", am not sure this is accepted butchers parlance, but for the record, its fillet and its fantastic. Indeed, the last time Wee Keefy went he organised a trip with a few friends solely on the basis of the meaty delights.
That said, to focus on which is neither fair nor wholly comprehensive, in terms of the inn's charms. They also happen to sell five real ales, at usual Derbyshire prices of £3.00 a pint (although I was on the same all night so am unsure if that applies to all beers). Not only that, but on all three of my visits the beer has been in very good nick, and whats more, is usually in the main, locally sourced.
On Saturday the range was Ruddles County, Bradfield Farmers Blonde, Bradfield Poppy Ale, Acorn Barnsley Bitter and Howard Town Snake Ale. The latter was a pleasant well balanced pint, admittedly short of a hop or two, but interestingly perhaps more palatable than the incredibly pale (h) poppy offering from over the hill. All in all you can't escape the pub's food led intent (and we were glad of that on a special occasion) but I think its got to be worth a stop if you are in the area and after a well kept locally brewed beer.
Later that night I was deposited in town to try and search out Fluffy who was celebrating a mate's stag do. An early phone call and text did not help identify their whereabouts but I assumed at some point they'd be in the Rutland.
Starting at DAda, I was shocked to discover that someone was playing a selection of my CD's (if you're unsure what these are, they're like gramophone records or cylinders, or at least they carry the same outdated stigma if you are under 30). At least two of my ska collections had been borrowed whilst I was out, plus a few tracks I wished I had.
This pleasing smorgasbord of sound was washed down with pints of the excellent Fyne Ales Jarl, a beer I'd heard plenty of and seen none. Add to this some cracking olives and a half of yummy fruity Halcyon and this was a great start to my late night socialising.
Alas, no trace could be found of Fluff as the minutes ticked on and I set off for the Bath Hotel for just before 23.00 to find it less than busy. I avoided the hopelessly hopless Kipling and went instead for an Allgates beer that I forget the name of. It tasted fine in the tasting glass but its exposure to the pint pot made it tired and taste of biscuits, or cheap cornflakes. I decided, on the basis of being in a similar state of tiredness, to eschew the obvious draw of the Rutland and head home like a good boy.
In other news, what there is, I noticed that the long drawn out extinction of the East House on Spital Hill has reached a rueful conclusion, at least in terms of it remaining open as a pub. As with so many nearby hostelries, what one might describe as a change in the cultural demographic has seen Pitsmoor and Burngreave stripped of pubs. The latest fate to befall one is that the East House is now yet another "vital" Kebab shop, without who's contribution the very bedrock of Sheffield's trade and financial security would crumble. I can't see anything but further utilisation as an unlicensed premises from here on to be honest.
Finally, much gnashing of teeth proceeded news on Friday of the sale of a hangover cure patch in the UK. The Bytox patch makes some scientifically implausible and even at a casual glance highly dubious claims about wiping out hangovers before they happen by infusing the wearer with various vitamins and nutrients throughout the drinking period.
Apparently the product claims, in this report peppered by over reaction from do-gooders and joyless Methodists here, to do something that somehow enables users to therefore drink without effect. Hence, the reaction in today's Mailtro letters page was full of the rather predictable moralistic outpourings from people convinced that this would lead to more drinking, and therefore directly the destruction of family life and the sanctity of the festive period.
The point they miss is that people who regularly drink absurd quantities of frol to the detriment of their families, ergo the people apparently harming the nation's children, will do so irrespective of the availability of this mugs game wonder cure. The only heinous aspect of its sale is that the company responsible could potentially make money out of hocus pocus, rather than as feared, from any forceful pushing of society into a mire of reckless ebriosity.
No doubt this new attack on family, and the church and the Easter bunny (erm, or some other story?) will only embolden those seeking to swipe aimlessly at every aspect of alcohol production, sale and purchase. How foolish they would feel if they realised that the attacks on the average man's drinking are already being led quite successfully by the Chancellor of the exchequer and the Pubco's!
How we cried in our pints....
Wee Beefy
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