Rather surprisingly it turns out that Moorhouses can brew something that doesn't initially taste like engine oil that's been filtered through a camel's anus and the pub had a "custom" beer on for my brother in law's birthday do (well it had his name on it but I imagine it is one of their standards). It did rather take on a "chewy" texture though about two thirds of the way down the glass as it started to warm up.
They had Timothy Taylor's Landlord on but TTL is a fussy beer that doesn't travel well and needs looking after; this beer had not been well looked after.
So as I had to drive the following day I went onto Heineken, a beer it is impossible to actually drink enough of to get drunk.
Apart from that I didn't know anyone so stood around looking like a spare part for most of the evening until a respectable length of time had passed and I could make the excuse of a full work week and a long drive up to bugger off and get some kip.
Mind you it was a really classy joint as you can see from the flyer they were handing out advertising their Valentine's day special.
Ah how romantic, a candlelit dinner for two plus someone howling their rendition of "I Will Survive" exactly one semitone flat in your ears. Yep that'll get her knickers off for sure.
All this and the following day I get to visit Ikea under orders from Mrs Dracunculus to pick up some bits and pieces. I have this love / hate relationship with Ikea. On one claw I rather like their furniture and design and the prices are very competitive, on the other claw the whole Ikea shopping experience makes me want to set fire to "Ektingbøg" sofas and "Hürdiburgle" lamp stands. Sunday was no exception with nowhere to fucking park, the obligatory shuffle round the maze before actually getting to the bit where they keep the plates and spoons in the company of every screaming, misbehaving child east of the Pennines plus queueing up for half an hour to pay for everything.
If you were travelling past Junction 27 of the M62 yesterday and noticed a small green dragon eating Swedish meatballs on top a flaming pile of affordable wardrobes, colourful throws and screaming children, that was me.
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3 comments:
Whatever happened to the Copper Dragon? That is as good a pint as any - presumambly off? TTL is as you know a favourite of mine and the test of a good landlord/pub it comes down to my local in darkest surry where its a regular and its a cracking pint - mindyou we are talking family run freehouse who care about their beer - here in lays the difference I suspect!
The Copper Dragon was off by the evening which was a shame as they make a cracking pint, their Golden Pippin is a lovely summer beer in particular. This was one called "Black Gold" which I haven't had before.
Regrettably from what I saw an heard, including a couple of comments about the special Moorhouses that was on that it "wasn't very strong" (it was a 4.3% ABV!) leads me to believe that the primary concern of said establishment was the sale of as much high-strength idiot juice as possible with values such as "taste" and "quality" coming somewhere below "getting completely bladdered for a tenner".
I also enjoy Timothy Taylor Landlord bitter, no wonder it has won so many awards. We get it here in Cardiff at the Village Inn in Pentwyn, which is NOT a family run pub but part of the huge Sizzling Pubs chain.
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