Brighton Pubs

Hopefully they're all peering curiously at a firing squad.

The Wednesday before last I paid a visit to Brighton. Regular readers of my blog (hello mum!) will understand that I may have been feeling a little bit uncomfortable going down there. This is of course because the place is full of hipsters. I imagine that in the Brighton Pavillion there are hundreds and thousands of pods, steadily spewing out trendy bastards complete with hilariously “ironic” dorky glasses and horrific clothes, usually consisting of a bright suit jacket and trousers too short for their useless legs. They will be a sporting a haircut that looks like the hairdresser suffered a seizure halfway through. Finally they will have an ego so large they are blissfully ignorant to just how twattish they are. You can probably tell I'm not keen on them. However apart from those bastards Brighton is quite a nice little town with some good shops. I hadn't been in a while and never really tried the real ale houses down there so I dragged The Lovely Jemma (TLJ) on a mini ale trail punctuated with trips to the shops to keep her happy.

Some basketmakers.

Things got off to a good start at the Basketmakers Arms, a charming little Fullers house in the North Laines. You know a pub is going to be good when you walk in for the first time and feel like you've been going there for years. The ale selection was standard Fullers fare and I had a fine pint of the Bengal Lancer. The star of the show is the food and everybody in the pub was tucking into the grub. This is not a gastro though, it's very much a pub which just happens to serve excellent home cooked food. The menu was very appealing, and I had a delicious and clearly freshly made burger while TLJ went for the chilli which was “very tasty.”

A walk down the Lanes followed where I ended up buying a vintage suit for a murder mystery evening I was attending in Kent. As I handed over the money I was hit by the crushing realisation that I had somehow become a middle class middle aged man by the age of 30. Luckily I didn't start bawling uncontrollable in front of the jolly member of staff and just carried on my way.

The Bath Arms was the next stop, in a prime location in the Lanes. After dragging TLJ from the shiny jewellery shops outside we ventured inside. This was a lovely Shepeard Neame pub with a cosy, welcoming atmosphere. I went for the WJ King Brighton Best, which is brewed specifically for pubs which are part of the Drink in Brighton scheme. This was a pleasant pint, with a good hoppy aroma and taste followed with a good bitter finish coming through. As I'm a geek I checked the Real Ale Guide on my Android phone (yeah I know) and discovered this pub isn't featured, which honestly surprised me. Despite the somewhat high prices this was a great pub. Maybe it will get a mention next year.

We then moved on to the Evening Star, a Dark Star pub with an excellent reputation with CAMRA members. The pub is basically the ground floor of a house, where the two front rooms have been knocked through. A small bar has been shoehorned into the corner with four hand pumps dedicated to Dark Star brews, and a few extra for guest ales. If I was ever on Grand Designs I would build a house exactly like this one. 

Sadly on this occasion the Dark Star selection was unremarkable, with Hophead, Porter and the Americam Pale Ale available. I opted for a pint of the American Pale Ale which was excellent as ever. This ludicrously hopped pale ale is always a pleasure to drink.

We finished our mini trail off at the Lord Nelson. I had read many good things about this pub but when we walked in I wanted to almost immediately walk out and return to the Evening Star. This place appeared dead compared to the Evening Stars bustling, jovial atmosphere. The tempting selection of Harveys ales convinced me to venture in, ever mindful that TLJ may kill me for bringing her to this quiet, whitewashed den of ale. We found a table in a room at the back of the pub, and I scoped out the exits in case a quick getaway was needed. A table across us was engaging in loud banter which thankfully drowned out whatever the hell I was talking about with TLJ.

The Harveys Dark Mild was on good form and was a tasty, textbook version of a Mild with a very pleasant chocolate/coffee taste coming through. I also tried a pint of the Armada Ale which was a delicious, hoppy treat. As the evening went on the atmosphere started to pick up as more regulars came in and the atmosphere picked up. The regulars were all happy to be there which made the pub a much more pleasant place to be. They also were wearing shirts and weren't spectacularly racist unlike the regulars in my local pub in Edgware (which I never visit.)

I was glad to find out that it is possible to have a pleasant evening in Brighton without having to be surrounded by cloying hipsters, fizzy lager and high prices. I popped my head into the Font, a converted church that used to be a Firkin house but is now a identikit “night spot” complete with booths, funky wallpaper and glass everywhere. I looked at the dolled up girls and boys picking at their food and couldn't see a happy face anywhere. I then thought of the Basketmakers where there was plenty of chatter, plenty of characters and good beer. I wondered why would you spend a night out in a bar spending a lot of money in a place that doesn't really care that you're giving them custom, and where you have to try and be the same as every other customer there. Then I realised the ale must have been kicking in for me to think up this cod philosophy. Good night!

The Red Lion, Apples and Brains.

Last Friday I paid a visit to the Red Lion, a hostelry in-between Carnaby Street and Regent Street. If any non-Londoners are reading this, Carnaby Street is where confused tourists go to relive the swinging sixties scene of London before realising it's long gone and now just full of soulless chain shops and other confused and disappointed tourists. Regent Street has an Apple store. I once set foot in there. I was disappointed for two reasons. First of all, it doesn't sell apples. Secondly, when I asked a gurning chump arrogantly claiming to be a “Genius” if he could direct me to the Granny Smiths or the Golden Delicious if that's all they had he instead directed me to what appeared to be a overpriced novelty computer for children. When I politely pointed out that the mouse was clearly defective as it had a button missing he got visibly upset and asked me to leave.

The Red Lion is a Sam Smiths pub. As mentioned in previous posts I don't really trust Sam Smiths and their cheap beer. Well the ale is cheap – the lager and cider is now around £3 in London making it much the same as other places. I still haven't found the secret to their cheap ale but I believe the Sam Smiths brewery is located beneath a barbershop where the customers keep mysteriously disappearing. I opted for a pint of the Old Brewery Bitter which sadly was only available in keg. It tasted fine with the usual creamy, slightly nutty flavour that accompanies this perfectly functional pint. At £2.11 you can't really complain, although that is steep for Sam Smiths. I once had a pint in Blackpool for £1.30 – and that was last year, not eighties prices! Although you can't accurately tell what decade it is in Blackpool.

A Sam Smith (thanks Google)

The pub was astonishingly busy but as it's a cheap pint in Soho that was to be expected. There are three bars and the staff were coping fairly well although they were a little bit slow. The barmaid was quite attractive though so I forgave her tardiness, which I'm sure she was grateful for. Sadly the rumours of the Alpine Lager disappearing from Sam Smiths pub appears to be true and only the Taddy Lager was available. This is probably a good thing as the Alpine Lager was so named for making whoever drank it shit themselves – much like when looking at a black run in the Alps. A tenuous link but one that is strangely appropriate.

Over the weekend I made the obligatory stop into the Wetherspoons Victoria Station with The Lovely Jemma to try some more of their festival ales, and use up my CAMRA vouchers. The Titanic “Fit Out” was a very tasty bitter from the ever reliable Titanic brewery. This pleasant golden ale has been brewed specifically for the festival and worth a pint if you spot it. I also enjoyed a rather good pint of the Brains “SA Dark.” This pint is a bit odd as the initial flavour is of absolutely nothing. This gives you time to contemplate the universe and your place in it. Then a rather pleasant chocolate flavour comes through and a satisfying dry finish. Another good one to try if you spot it, although the ale festival finishes on the 23^rd October so best make it quick.

Apologies for the lack of the pictures in this update, as I'm useless and forgot to take any. You'll be pleased to know my next update is about some charming pubs in Brighton where again I forgot to take pictures. Sorry.

Wetherspoons - London Victoria Station

A reader tweets:

“Dave y u alwayz at wetherspons victoria lolz”

Actually a reader didn't tweet that. But if somebody was to contact me from the internet I imagine that's what it would look like, if newspaper coverage is anything to go by. I love when newspapers decide to quote Twitter users in a story. Nothing destroys a credible piece faster. Twitter quotes usually crop up in stories about some poor 15 year old who has been stabbed in Arsehole Estates. After the serious comment from the police and experts, there's always a bit on the “flood of tributes on Twitter and Facebook.” This usually means the paper gets to quote gems along the lines of “U woz a dog m8 piece” - @HairyKnockers or “ur ded u mong Rip” - @BITCHESLEAVE. And so it goes. Social media is an amazing tool, bringing people and cultures from all over the world in one medium, allowing you to discover things you may never have learnt from TV or radio, or even a book. But sadly it's also highlighting just how many idiots there are out there.

The "glorious" Weatherspoons Victoria "Bar & Cafe." There's a barmaid who works here who  looks like Rhianna. I think it is her on her day off but others disagree.

But I digress. To answer the fictional readers original question, I'm often at the Wetherspoons Victoria as it's where I wait for The Lovely Jemma to be delivered from leafy South London (or Kent as it's more commonly known.) It's also where I go to cry into a pint when she has to take the train back. As I've mentioned in previous posts, the Wetherspoons Victoria isn't a bad place. The atmosphere is non existent but as it's a station pub it's unlikely anybody is going to have a session there. However the beer is well kept and there's plenty on. The Wetherspoons Ale & Cider Fesitval started on the 5^th October so there was a good selection on when I popped in on Saturday, and on Sunday for the aforementioned weeping.

The Wetherspoons festival has around 40 ales with five from our American cousins, highlighting the recent interest in American craft beers. I tried a pint of “Eclipse” from the Bend Brewery in Oregon. This was a tasty dark ale with a nice roasted chocolate taste. Probably a bit much for a session but it was certainly a pleasant ale. I also tried a pint of Belhaven “St Andrews Ale” a perfectly fine if a little dull copper ale with a hint of sweetness. Finally there was the St Austell “Proper Black.” According to its description in the festival guide this ale is designed to confound the senses. It certainly did but not in a good way. A black IPA, the aroma was very much of a light hoppy golden ale, with a strong citrus aroma. The initial taste was also very much of a light IPA, with a burst of fruity hops. This then made way for the taste of a mild – a mocha flavour that got stronger with the finish. To be honest the two very different flavours didn't blend particularly well. It wasn't undrinkable but it's not a pint I would go for again.

Nachos were ordered, always a gamble in a Wetherspoons. You can't be sure if they'll be fairly respectable, or a plate of stale Doritos which somebody has accidentally spilt some sour cream on to. Luckily they turned out to be OK. We also had a read through the Wetherspoons magazine, which is always worth a chuckle. Amongst the usual letters of old men complaining about the barstaff being too noisy putting glasses into the dishwasher, we came across this heartwarming article about an employee and his brave challenge for charity:

A mighty challenge indeed.

Sixty Babybels in two hours?! He'll never do it. That's an entire Babybel every two minutes!! And those Babybel wrappers can be so difficult to unwrap, just adding to the time! Oh who am I kidding this is the worst charity challenge I've ever seen. If he failed, and judging by the “attempted” in the headline I think he did, I hope he got fired for being supremely incompetent. I once ate ten Jaffa Cakes in a minute and no sick kids benefited from that debacle. Still he does look very pleased with himself in the photo with his tray of cheeses, and he did raise £130, so maybe I'm being a little harsh. But isn't being mean to people I don't know the whole point of the internet?

Until next time.

Junction Tavern beer festival and The Assembly House

The Junction Tavern is a pleasant little gastropub in leafy Kentish Town, an area which is becoming a bit of a real ale hotbed with the Southampton Arms and Pineapple in the vicinity. The Junction Tavern is primarily a gastro and doesn't really directly compete with the aforementioned establishments but they're not afraid to put on some great ales, including local brews. They also hold frequent ale festivals and I paid a visit on a chilly Friday evening with The Lovely Jemma to their latest festival. A good selection was available. The pub has five handpubs and there were an additional ten ales in a temporary area, although not all were ready.

The Hen Harrier. That's a pint

glass. TLJ has grown a lot since

the last update. The nails have

also got even more fabulous.

Things got off to a good start with a Prospect “Panned Out.” This tasty seasonal brew was a very pleasant strong bitter with a little bit of spicyness thrown in which went down well. This was followed by the Bowland “Hen Harrier” which sadly wasn't as good. Although it had a promising fruity aroma, the taste was not spectacular. The fruity, refreshing hops tried to push through but it all tasted a little flat and lifeless. The Cotleigh “Commando Hoofing” was a fairly unremarkable golden ale. It wasn't an awful drink but there wasn't much that stood out. Things finished in good form with the Empire “Kismet” a well hopped aromatic beer with a delightful fruity taste. I also asked for a taste of the “Barmans Ghoulies” by the Tirrel brewery, eliciting giggles from those waiting in line. Sadly the ale lived up to its name with a odd sweaty taste that wasn't very pleasant at all.

The Junction Tavern is a decent place for ale, but its primary business is the gastro side of things which means drinkers are a little short changed. A charming conservatory and the large, airy main room are devoted to diners, meaning drinkers are left with a rather stuffy corridor in-between the main room and conservatory. Still the atmosphere was jovial with a nice mix of punters.

After quaffing a few ales I started to get a bit peckish. The menu in the Junction looked good but expensive, and I fancied something to nibble on before I started gnawing on my own hand. There wasn't a bar food menu available and snacks are limited to bread, olives and cashews. Olives are, of course, Satan's grapes and bread might have been fine for Jesus but I needed something a bit more substantial. I guess chips aren't good enough for the well heeled gentry of Kentish Town. We therefore decided to move on to the Assembly House near Kentish Town station in the hunt for some good old fashioned pub grub.

This Greene King pub has recently been renovated and walking in I got flashbacks of The Bull in Islington. This pub seemed to have attracted every wanker, sorry, hipster in Kentish Town and there were plenty of them. A DJ was in the corner surrounded by her acne riddled friends playing what would no doubt be described as “Phat Beats.” The décor was the usual stripy wallpaper and lamps scattered everywhere that all “trendy” pubs tend to have these days. Trendy is in quotations because no genuine trendy place would ever let me in.

Despite all these factors we decided to stay, mainly because we had the good luck to find an empty table and I'm a lazy man. Five handpumps were on with the usual Greene King suspects (IPA, Abbot Ale etc) available. I opted for a pint of Bonkers Conkers, Greene Kings seasonal ale, which was fine. It's supposed to have a nutty taste but I couldn't really detect it. It was a standard strong bitter that got the job done.

It tastes better than it looks. Honestly.

The food, however, was actually rather good. We had previously been warned by a flame haired Irish lady that the food here was deep fried greasy crap, and to be honest that was exactly what I was craving. We decided to go for the Burger Plate, which was described as six mini burgers with onion rings and chips, for that is what it was. It was presented rather nicely and against all odds tasted pretty good. Pub onion rings usually tend to be as limp and soggy as an audience of men watching the Sex and the City movie but these were crispy, fluffy and tasty. The burgers were also rather good. Just when I thought the night couldn't get any better the DJ started playing Hakuna Matata from the Lion King. I might have to return to this place.

Bricklayers Arms Derbyshire Beer Festival

Last Saturday I paid a visit to the Bricklayers Arms in Putney to participate in their Derbyshire Ale Festival. It was my first visit to the Bricklayers after hearing very good things about it. My Putney friends are always raving about it and the pub has won several CAMRA awards. CAMRA usually recommend good pubs but they do sometimes favour establishments where I'm the only customer who doesn't clearly remember the Callaghan government. Luckily the Bricklayers turned out to be a real charmer,with a surprisingly roomy interior and a pleasant, albeit concrete, garden running down the side. The atmosphere was jolly with a friendly crowd in attendance, a nice mixture of young and old folk although marred slightly by some morris dancers (more on them later.) A dog was also spotted. Sadly there was a lack of a busty wench behind the bar but you can't have everything.

Considering the festival started on Thursday there was still a fair bit of choice available. Things got off to a fine start with a very pleasant half of Spire “Brassed Off.” Thankfully it wasn't made from the ashes of Pete Postlethwaite, and instead was a lovely hopped session ale with a light fruity taste. Perfect for the sunny weather that day. This was followed by Amber “EPA,” a low strength (4%) continental style brew that reminded me of the sort of beer you may get in Belgium, without blowing your head off from alcohol strength. A good taste with a rather fine finish.

While sipping the EPA I stepped outside to watch the morris dancers perform their strange pagan ritual. To be honest they scare me. The fact that they're quite happy to dress up and dance in their disturbing way is a triumph of brainwashing and I bow down to the alien overlords behind it all. These guys were good at what they do (using ritual dance to communicate the aliens mission status to the home planet) but I was annoyed by a young hipster morris dancer wearing oh so cool dorky glasses and smacking his stick in a ironic way. I was tempted to punch him in the face in a ironic fashion but instead I just sipped my pint of EPA while glaring at him. 

Watching them dance in their unnerving way I got to thinking that morris dancers would make a great villain, and that somebody needs to make a film where evil morris dancers hit innocents with their sticks before sucking their souls out, all with the incessant ringing of jangly bells in the background. Actually on second thoughts they best not do that or I'll never sleep again. Eventually I had to stop watching the spectacle before I too was drawn into the hive mind and became a morris dancer myself. 

Plenty of further half pints were drunk. Ales that stood out were Muirhouse “Magnum Mild” which wasn't part of the festival but was one of the ales on one of the twelve(!) handpumps This was a great example of a mild with a fine coffee flavour with chocolate undertones. Very suppable. The Thornbridge “Seaforth” stood out for the wrong reasons – sadly this was probably the most disappointing brew I've had from the usually excellent Thornbridge brewery. A 5.9% IPA it had a rather average, even boring flavour and aroma. Thornbridge have been on a good run recently so I felt a bit let down.

I foolishly turned my back on the dancers at one point, and when I turned back round they were IN THE BUILDING.

Thankfully the Thornbridge “Kipling” came on later in the day and was in fine form. A combination of the previous ales and the excitement of seeing Kipling did unfortunately make me run around the pub like a twat yelling at my mates “The Kipling is on! The Kipling is on! You must drink!” over and over again. Those who did try it agreed that this fantastic hoppy ale with a distinct grapefruit flavour was a fine pint. Although they may have been saying that out of fear of the crazed look in my eyes.

After that my afternoon at the pub came to an end. A fine time all round and I will certainly be returning to the Bricklayers in the future. Hopefully without the morris dancers this time. I can still hear the jingling of bells when I sleep. They're out there. Waiting for me.