By
Rob
Occasionally
we all want to like something that we can’t, in fact, like.
Sometimes
it’s clear why. For instance, I want to like going to the gym. This
is, rather obviously, for all of the practical health benefits that
regular gym attendance would bring. And yet I find, and have always
found, exercising at the gym to be an unbelievably tedious affair:
pounding away on the treadmill, going precisely nowhere, so that I’ll
feel marginally less terrible about the lamb bhuna that I plan to
order on the way home.
Of
course, sometimes it’s less apparent why you want to like
something, but still pretty obvious why you don’t. For example, I
have always liked the idea of eating seafood, without being able to
really articulate why. I have never, however, been confused as to why
I don’t like it in practice, which is because it tastes precisely
how the sea smells.
And
then there are times when you have no idea why you want to like
something, and also no clue as to why you can’t. For me, I would
say The Banner Cross falls squarely into this category.
I
think I wanted to like it because, from the outside, it looked
like it was a good pub. Or perhaps I wanted to like it because of its
location in trendy, well-to-do S11. Or maybe the reason I wanted to
like it was that it’d recently undergone a big refurbishment and
I’m the sort of bloke who hates to see hard work wasted.
Whatever
the reason, I did want to like it.
I
think I was unable to like it because, from the inside, it
looked like it wasn’t a good pub. Now, I’m not sure why it didn’t
appeal: there were craft beers on offer, the venue would host live
music, and it placed great emphasis on showing sports. It was clean,
devoid of drunken lunatics, and the odour in the toilets didn’t
melt my contact lenses.
And
yet, something about the stripped-back wooden decor, the
uncomfortable wooden chairs, and the collection of stools dotted
about the place held me back. Maybe it just seemed too much like a
chain pub, or maybe it was the mismatch between the lovely Tudor
exterior and bland interior (like The Howard).
Or maybe, by pub 111, I was finally sick of the whole thing and
wanted to put as much distance between me, Andy, and Sheffield’s
pub scene as possible.
Pondering
this question, we ordered a pint of Iron & Steel bitter, from
Chantry Brewery. A not very bitter bitter, this bitter was better
than the bitterer bitters which litter the bitter scene. A nice, quaffable pint.
Andy
was somewhat less disappointed with the pub than I was, being less
fixated on the aesthetic and more impressed, I should think, by the
multiple sports on show. As such, his generous nature has saved the
pub from receiving a dismal score.
Which
is just as well, because I still don’t know why I disliked it so
much.
Rating:
6/10
Pint:
Iron & Steel
