Props to the Red Deer here in Sheffield: as well as being located a handy 38 seconds’ walk from my desk, they’ve responded brilliantly to some constructive feedback. I had my lunch there last Friday. Corn fritters. Tasty enough, but overpriced at seven quid for a few mouthfuls. I mentioned this to them on Twitter … Continue reading
There’s a great irony about the Sunday dinner pub, (which I neglected to mention when I blogged about Sunday dinner pubs. It’s that even the dinner, Sunday or otherwise, is usually shit. But today my in-laws took me to the Speckled Hen in St Albans for lunch, and it was great. A sort of bean … Continue reading
They’re big, they’re bland, they can destroy your will to live, and they’re opening everywhere. Could the real future of the British boozer be the living hell that is… the Sunday dinner pub? Continue reading
One of my Rules of Pub is: never drink in a pub with a flat roof. It’s a rule with a sub-clause. The sub-clause is: except the Criterion. Five minutes ago my bandmates and I were getting off a train at Leicester station and tumbling into a taxi. Now we’re standing at the bar in … Continue reading