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...

Pub 99, Day 36 – The Noose & Gibbet Inn

By Rob

In case you've somehow failed to notice Andy's numerous jibes, which have been directed at me over the past few blog posts, I have been away in Rome for a couple of months. While there, I didn't quite find the time to crack on with my other, pub-related responsibilities and so, from the bottom of my heart, I would like to apologise.

(Just to clarify, this is an apology directed at the Pubquest readership and is not to be confused with an apology directed at Andy. I do have some words to direct at Andy, in light of his recent comments, but there are only two of them.)

So, without further delay, let's get back to business.

***

Having just finished up at the historic Carbrook Hall, we made the short walk around the corner to The Noose & Gibbet Inn.

Sat across from the arena, it's a pub I'd seen many times as a child and had always found intriguing. Not because I had an unhealthy, pre-pubescent interest in alcohol – rather, I was fascinated by the (pretend) man languishing inside the cage of the hanging gibbet, which had stood outside the pub for as long as I could remember. (So just an unhealthy, pre-pubescent interest in corpses.)

Finally satisfying my long-held curiosity, I stepped into the pub that had piqued my interest for so long.

And interesting the pub certainly was. Old roof beams mixed with modern flooring, an almost essay-length historical narrative written on one of the walls, a pool table that was semi-separate to the rest of the seating areas and, lest we forget, the man hanging in the gibbet outside.

Immediately, I found myself liking the place.

The range of beers could've been better, with no real ales on offer at the time of our visit (although I've been led to believe that, on a normal night, the selection is slightly more expansive). Once again, Andy and I were boxed into a corner, and once again we came out swinging with two bottles of Bulmers. 

On this occasion, the precise flavouring was Bold Black Cherry, but I won't waste anybody's time by trying to review it. Needless to say it was Bulmers, and I didn't like it.

However, the disappointment at the drinks selection was greatly alleviated by the friendly woman behind the bar, who seemed genuinely interested in our pub-centric adventure. As she quickly came to realise, showing even the slightest interest in our all-consuming hobby instantly elevated a person from 'total stranger' to 'new best friend'.

After we'd chewed the poor woman's ear off for nearly half an hour, we relocated to the pool table and fired off a few games, all of which Andy won.

Similar to its nearby competitor Carbrook Hall, The Noose & Gibbet has a bit of local history to boast of. Like the street it stands on, the pub owes its name to the misadventures of a certain Spence Broughton. Back in 1791, this chap had the poor sense to rob the Sheffield to Rotherham postal service (which apparently involved little more than dragging a boy off his horse and stealing his bag).

Although his accomplices managed to evade the death sentence, Mr Broughton wasn't so lucky, and poor old Spence was found guilty of highway robbery at York Castle in March 1792. He was subsequently executed and, according to the court records, his body was displayed in a gibbet at "some conspicuous spot on Attercliffe Common".^[1]

Upon the erection of the gibbet, and within the first few days of its arrival, a whopping 40,000 people were said to have flocked to catch a glimpse of it. Oddly, the gibbet was then kept in place for the next 36 years, becoming rather a gruesome local milestone.

And so, as you might have rightly guessed, the pub takes its name from this infamous and nearby incident. So too does the street, Broughton Lane, take its name from the unfortunate (and relatively unsuccessful) highwayman Spence Broughton.

Who said history couldn't be fun?

Noose & Gibbet pool score: Andy 3-0 Rob

Pubquest pool score: Andy 45-30 Rob

Pub: The Noose & Gibbet Inn (97 Broughton Lane, S9 2DE)

Rating: 5.5/10

Pint: Bulmers Bold Black Cherry

Brewery: H. P. Bulmer (Hereford)

NEXT UP: Pub number 100! At The Museum...

---

[1] http://www.museums-sheffield.org.uk/blog/2011/10/sheffield%E2%80%99s-horrible-history 

Pub 98, Day 36 – Carbrook Hall

By Andy

Historians often agree that the history of Rome – and by extension the history of European civilisation – can be summarised into three key sacks, each of which shaped the destiny of the entire continent:

1. The Sack of Rome by The Gauls (390 BC). This defeat prompted a series of military reforms, which set the foundations for Rome's domination on the battlefield.^[1]
2. The Sack of Rome by the Visigoths (410 AD). This deepened the schism between the Western Roman Empire and the Eastern Roman Empire.
3. The Sack of Rome by the Ostrogoths (546 AD). The fall of Rome was complete as a prolonged siege ensured that the city became depopulated entirely.^[2]

However, contemporary historians may have to add a fourth event to this list, the consequences of which will be deeper and more profound than anything which came before:

4. The sacking of Rob from Pubquest (2016 AD), unless he pulls his finger out and writes a bloody blog soon!

***

 

Leaving The Wentworth behind, we made the short journey to Carbrook Hall.

The Carbrook claims to be the most haunted pub in Sheffield. In reality, what this means is that the building has a bit of history behind it.

During the English Civil War, it was owned by John Bright, a Colonel for the Roundheads. The Roundheads used Carbrook Hall as a war bunker, and devised a plan to capture Sheffield Castle from the Cavaliers. After initial attempts failed, the Roundheads acquired a larger cannon, which enabled Colonel Bright to successfully breach the castle walls in 1644. As reward for his success, Colonel Bright was appointed Governor of York, before passing away in 1688.^[3]

Legend has it that the ghost of Colonel Bright often returns to Carbrook Hall to haunt the pub's patrons. Indeed, according to the landlord he is particularly fond of Smirnoff Ice, which frequently goes missing. This is the sort of finer detail that should convince any sceptics, as the fluorescent alcopop was a well-known popular drink during the 17th-century.

Bravely pushing all this to the back of our minds, we summoned up the courage to enter. The pub's interior instantly reveals the building's history, with ornate oak-panelled walls and a 'hidden' 17th-century door.

However, the fittings fight for attention with garish modern additions, including an assortment of off-putting portraits and a cartoonish chap in a suit of armour. This artificial history actually conceals the genuine features, distracting you from the finer details.

Unfortunately the beer choice was not as inspiring as the architecture, so we were forced to sample cider: on this occasion, Thatchers Gold.

As they were being poured, it suddenly dawned on me that I recognised the landlord. Never trusting my own powers of facial recognition (I once thought Paul Daniels was a rapper, and Rob never lets me forget it), I turned to Rob, who was having the same epiphany.

It was the landlords from one of our favourite pubs, the Star & Garter!

After discovering the Star & Garter's 50p pool table, we had spent many evenings there shortly before its sad demise. Pleasingly, the landlords also recognised us (or at least they claimed to), allowing us to discuss the S&G's closure and their subsequent relocation to Carbrook Hall.

The landlords are a thoroughly lovely couple, although it has to be said, judging by their track record not particularly good at running pubs: the Star & Garter will soon become student flats, and rumours persist that Carbrook Hall will soon meet the same fate.

Picture the scene: Freshers' Week 2020, and an irate student bangs on his flatmate's door:

“This is your last warning: stop fucking stealing my Smirnoff Ice!”

Pub: Carbrook Hall (537 Attercliffe Common, S9 2FJ)

Rating: 6.5/10

Pint: Thatchers Gold

Brewery: Thatchers Cider (Sandford, Somerset)

NEXT UP: Rob's riposte, at The Noose & Gibbet Inn...

References: 
[1] The Battle at the Allia River 390 BCE, http://www.ancient.eu/article/879/ 
[2] Patrick Amory, People and Identity in Ostrogothic Italy 489-554, Cambridge University Press, (1997), p.11
[3] http://carbrookhallpub.wixsite.com/carbrook-hall/about

Pub 97, Day 36 – The Wentworth

By Andy

As Monty Python pointed out, the Romans are a canny bunch. While the rest of the world was living primitively, the city of Rome developed aqueducts, roads and wine. However, in the intervening millennia, they appear to have been surpassed as the centre of civilisation.

For example, living in Britain, if I wanted to send a word document to a friend, I could use a method called 'electronic mail'. However, this vital form of communication clearly hasn't quite made it to Rome yet, as despite repeated promises to the contrary, Rob still hasn't sent over a single word of the Pubquest blog he is due to write.

When in Rome, do as a lazy Roman student would do.

***

Arcing round the arena, The Wentworth immediately caught our eye. A quaint village pub juxtaposed next to a formidable steelworks, the view seemed to encapsulate Sheffield.

Inside, the pub was smaller than it looked yet wonderfully old-fashioned, with a central circular bar and a rustic, warming fireplace. The choice of beer and spirits was pleasing, if a little stymied by the limited space.

We chose Kashmir, a ruby-coloured ale by Acorn Brewery which delighted us with its deep, malty flavours. Rob has a particular penchant for red beers, and he considered it “a close second” to Thornbridge's Colorado Red.

Being critical, the concrete beer garden serves little purpose, as when summer arrives I would rather drink by a canal than in the shadow of Forgemasters. However, I'm sure the locals appreciate the option, despite the lack of scenery.

Pub: The Wentworth (26 Milford Street, S9 2LD)

Rating: 7/10

Pint: Kashmir

Brewery: Acorn Brewery (Barnsley)

NEXT UP: The most haunted pub in Sheffield, at Carbrook Hall...

Pub 96, Day 36 – Arena Square

By Andy

Well, dear readers: Rob's fucked off to Rome.

We've been here before of course: almost as soon as the blog began, I nobly relocated to Howden in East Yorkshire for work. I came back a couple of years later, but as soon as I did Rob selfishly fucked off to Coventry for his first job. After a few months he too returned, and for the first time in years we were both in Sheffield. Progress would be relentless.

Then, after just six months in the adult world, Rob decided that what he really needed was to relive his previous 24 years as a student, and packed in his steady 9–5 to dodge taxes once more. He began a PhD in Late Ancient History, and before you knew it, he jetted off to Rome on a 3-month “residential research course”. Well there isn't much research taking place based on the photos you're putting on Facebook mate!

So, while he's off eating pizza and driving Ferraris, I'm left looking after the metaphorical children, writing up entries for the pubs we've already visited...

***

Having ticked off the pubs surrounding Bramall Lane and Hillsborough, we thought it was high time to visit those near Sheffield's other top-class sporting venue: the arena.

We were joined by previous guest-blogger Lucy, along with Rob's girlfriend Hannah.

Our first stop was Arena Square, a large family-friendly establishment which belongs to the Table Table chain. Although technically just a stone's throw from the arena, in reality this journey involves a perilous dash across 6 lanes of traffic, ensuring your adrenaline is pumping upon arrival.

The pub was spread across several rooms, all of which were completely identical. The furniture was about as nondescript as it was possible to be: cheap, wooden and wobbling. The atmosphere of the place was flat, bordering on soulless.

Pubquest Points were awarded for a decent beer selection, from which we selected Dirty Tackle, a winter beer from Wychwood Brewery (the makers of Hobgoblin). Dirty Tackle turned out to be far superior to its more famous sibling, which felt the wrath of our review in 2012.

Having been stung once before by pubs that weren't serving food, I had called at the nearby KFC beforehand, and gorged myself on a Zinger Burger Box Meal. The others were not nearly as forward-thinking as I, and chose from the Arena Square's menu.

Rob and Hannah both opted for chicken and pea pie, which was your typical reheated fare. However, the accompanying chips were appetising enough for me to steal a few when Hannah went to the bar.

Lucy went for a salad of some sort, so I won't hold the Arena Square responsible for her catastrophic error of judgement.

As the name suggests, the pub's defining feature is its proximity to the arena, rather than any particular dedication to beer or food.

I suppose when your trade is made up of concert-goers eagerly awaiting their annual trip to see Take That, there's no need to provide Europe's finest pilsners or Yorkshire's freshest food: just be open, serve alcohol, and make sure you get your staff rota aligned with the arena's schedule.

Pub: Arena Square (3 Arena Court, S9 2LF)

Rating: 6/10

Pint: Dirty Tackle

Brewery: Wychwood Brewery (Witney, Oxfordshire)

NEXT UP: Sheffield in a nutshell, at The Wentworth...