Pub 102, Day 38 – Dog & Partridge

By Rob

Let me set the scene for you: Andy and I are in town, with our mutual friend Ali. Ali is a teacher, with too little free time, and is looking forward to a good night out on the tiles. Her Saturdays are precious to her, and are not to be wasted.

Imagine her delight, therefore, when we railroad the evening’s plans by insisting that we step into a pub, the Dog & Partridge, that we are fortuitously passing as we stroll down Trippet Lane. She is a little miffed, to say the least. But she understands that Pubquest is important to us and to our readers (who are, in the main, also us). Inevitably she relents, and we step inside.

The Dog & Partridge was, once upon a time, a vibrant Irish pub. Old men played their instruments to the delight of the Guinness-swilling punters, sat beneath half a dozen pictures of JFK, while the resident Border Collie snoozed in between the bar stools. My parents had always been huge fans of the pub, and I’d been inside on several occasions, but its glory days were behind it.

The landlady, Ann Flynn, upped sticks and moved in 2010 – taking the Irish theme, the Kennedy portraits, and the coterie of musical regulars with her. However, she didn’t move very far, relocating to the nearby Grapes, just a few yards down the street. Today, if you’re hoping to sing along to a live rendition of Black Velvet Band, that’s the place to go.

Since losing that which made it so distinctive, the Dog & Partridge has failed to reinvent itself into anything noteworthy. Indoors, it looked every inch the typical, nondescript, town pub. It was quiet, largely undecorated, and the selection of beers was far from extraordinary. That being said, there were guest ales on draft and we each ordered a pint of Welsh Black – a dark mild ale, which was a little too malty for my taste, but which flowed across Andy’s accepting palette freely enough.

Pretty unimpressed, we didn’t hang around for a second drink. Inoffensive and underwhelming, we concluded that the next time we fancied a drink on Trippet Lane, it would be at The Grapes.

Pub: Dog & Partridge (56 Trippet Lane, S1 4EL)

Rating: 5/10
Pint: Welsh Black  

Brewery: Great Orme Brewery (Colwyn Bay)

NEXT UP: EU Referendum night, at The Punch Bowl...

Pub 101, Day 37 – The Bessemer

By Rob

A few weeks ago, I was visiting my parents when my mum asked if I'd ever been to The Bessemer.

"Mother," I replied, "you're fully aware that I've been to many pubs throughout this fair city. I've been to places that stand upon the very edge of Sheffield's borders. So, of course I've been to The Bessemer, as it's located in the centre of town. It would be ludicrous to entertain the notion that I've not been there and, frankly, I'm embarrassed that you even thought to ask me."

As my mum sat there, sipping her tea and wishing – once again – that she'd understood the importance of contraception all those years ago, she explained that the reason she'd asked about The Bessemer was that she'd recently been there for a night out with some friends.

When I asked for her opinion of the venue, she launched into a speech about how fantastic the place was and how, along with her peers, she'd had an amazing time there.

I was quite surprised. I hadn't seen her this enthusiastic since the day I moved out.

As she continued to lavish praise upon the venue, I cast my mind back to my (thankfully recent) visit...

***

Situated next to Leopold Square, The Bessemer was a large venue and probably not a pub at all. In fact, both Andy and I were fairly confident that we were heading to a bar, but the small kernels of doubt in our minds – coupled with our own stupid rules – rendered us unable to avoid it.

The journey was a short one from our spot in The Museum (directly across the road). Once there, we headed to the bar and ordered two pints of Lancaster Bomber. A staple from Marston's, this chestnut ale was slightly hoppy and thoroughly enjoyable. 

The Bessemer held a special place in my heart. When I turned 18, it was the first stop on my first ever night out (although back then it was called The Fountain). Andy had been there that night, and here he was again almost seven years later. It occurred to me that I needed some new friends.

The place didn't look too different this time around. It was still relatively well-decorated, looking like a slightly improved Wetherspoons. There was very little of the 'pub vibe' to be found (although the same can often be said about a Wetherspoons).

Looking around, it was clear to see that eighteen-year-olds frequented the place no longer. In fact, the clientele was almost exclusively made up of middle-aged women.

But not just any middle-aged women.

These weren't the gin-drinking, wine-tasting, cocktail-purchasing type of middle-aged women. No, these were the pitcher-swigging, pint-draining, shot-downing type of middle-aged women. Dinner ladies off-duty, getting tanked up on ale before heading to Reflex where they 'ironically' dance on the poles and don pink, sparkling cowboy hats, before ending the night in Chubbys with a large doner kebab.

I saw a Sandra stumble over a Barbra, while a Denise whooped and hollered at a Pauline. Meanwhile, a somewhat unsteady Julie tried to convince her friend Sue that she could, indeed, finish the pint that Dawn had bought for her without being sick and ruining the night for Sharon.

Hoots and howls, screams and giggles. Chanting and swearing, mixed with crying and laughter. The sounds of middle-aged shenanigans filled the air, enveloping me...

***

... As I was brought back to the present, I blinked away the madness and sipped at my tea.

"So yeah," my mum concluded. "I loved it there."

Having now thought about it, I wasn't surprised at all.

Pub: The Bessemer (58 Leopold St, Sheffield S1 2GZ)

Rating: 7/10

Pint: Lancaster Bomber

Brewery: Marston's Brewery (Wolverhampton)

NEXT UP: Hijacking another night out, at the Dog & Partridge...

Pub 100, Day 37 – The Museum

By Rob

"There is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn."

                  -- Samuel Johnson (1709 – 1784)

Since Dr Johnson spoke those words, as reported by James Boswell in one of the first ever modern English biographies, a great deal has been contrived by man. Entertainments that, assuredly, could never have been predicted by the good doctor – how could an eighteenth-century poet and playwright possibly have imagined that, in time, most of us would possess the means to watch amusing videos of cats on handheld devices? Or that the human mind could sink to such depths of depravity and artistic bankruptcy as to conceive of Love Island, or Channel 5?

And yet, in the face of an unknowable future, Dr Johnson made a statement that remains as true today as it was during the age of the Seven Years' War. Indeed, the delights of the English pub are mighty and manifold; from pool tournaments to quiz nights, from cheap lager to real ale, and from the quiet country retreat to the rowdy student boozer – all are catered for. The dizzying hedonism of twenty-first-century Britain, with its VR headsets and Tinder hook-ups, has no better pleasure to offer than the joys of the (Sheffield) public house.

If anyone knows this to be the case, it’s the two of us. That’s because this, ladies and gentlefolk, is the hundredth ever Pubquest blog – the moment we mark a century of pints, pool, and pubs. It’s triple digits now and for evermore. But before we concentrate on this monumental achievement, let’s consider the pub that pushed us over the line and into glory…

…Andy, myself, Ellen, and Hannah were all present for the big moment, which we brought in at The Museum pub in Orchard Square. The pub was chosen, unsurprisingly, for its conveniently central location. Inside, as out, it’s a reasonably standard affair – a Greene King pub with the Greene King decoration, menu, and range of beers. About as middle-of-the-road as a central reservation.

Andy and I each ordered a pint of German Cascade IPA, a refreshing pint in which the taste of the Cascade hops came through strongly, with its citrus and grapefruit notes. We grabbed a table by the window and then, to add some pizazz to proceedings, unveiled our celebratory props.

Sitting there, drinking through our ludicrous straws, embarrassing both Ellen and Hannah, we looked back over the highs and lows of our journey and, with a little help from our calculators, started to consider the cost of our adventures thus far. We came up with the following:

Financial cost

·        Taking into account re-visits and extra pints consumed in pubs, we’ve drank 238 pints of beer

·        At a Sheffield average of £3.74 per pint, we’ve spent a total of approximately £890 on beer

·        At an average of 75p per game, over 60 games, we’ve spent approximately £45 on pool

Health cost

·        At an average of 180 calories per pint, we’ve consumed a total of 42,840 calories

·        This is the equivalent of eating, approximately, 150 pepperoni pizzas from Pizza Hut

·        Not to mention all of the terrible things that drinking 119 pints, each, does to the body

After working out these figures, and after allowing the ramifications to percolate (such as wondering how I might spend £445 if only I had saved it, instead of pissing it away) we decided that, in fact, the cost was absolutely worth it.

Sure, Pubquest might not be a financially sound endeavour – extracting a reasonably high cost with almost no prospect of any returns, of any kind, at any point in the future.

And sure, Pubquest might not be a medically advisable affair – no doubt shortening our lifespan by an unknowable degree and increasing the risk of various ugly, unpleasant, and potentially lethal adverse health conditions further down the line.

But, in response, I would point to the top of this page and remind all ye who read this: we just hit 100 pubs!

Besides, it’s not as if the drinking and frequenting of pubs ever did Dr Samuel Johnson any harm. He lived a perfectly healthy life, aside from the poor eyesight, scrofula, bronchitis, depression, poor circulation, testicular tumour, stroke, gout, coma, and death.

(Although the last one was, in fairness, inevitable).

Pub: The Museum (25 Orchard Square, S1 2FB)

Rating: 7/10

Pint: German Cascade IPA

Brewery: Acorn Brewery (Barnsley)

NEXT UP: Middle-aged frolics, at The Bessemer...