Pub 104, Day 39 – The Ball

By Andy

We left The Punch Bowl and crossed Crookes towards The Ball, a fellow Greene King establishment. Quite why Greene King felt they needed two pubs virtually across the road from each other was anyone’s guess, but I suppose there must be a sizeable local market for microwaved pub meals.

The pub was much busier than its neighbour, with a lively buzz that can only be caused by mixing alcohol with politics. It was the night of the EU Referendum, although I’m not sure why everyone was getting so animated – it’s not like we were actually going to leave the EU.

We selected two pints of Rooney Juice – Euro 2016 was ongoing, and there seemed no better pint to drink while looking forward to England’s inevitable win over Iceland in a few days’ time.

However, after paying with a £10 note, the barmaid promptly disappeared, never returning with my change. After standing around like a lemon for a while, I decided to enquire.

“Erm excuse me, I’m still waiting for my change,” I timidly told a member of staff.

“Oh, we’ll have to check the till to make sure,” came the curt response. “Find a table and we’ll bring it over.”

I have to say this was a new one on me – although receiving the wrong change was a fairly common occurence, receiving no change at all seemed a novel way of increasing profit margins. Perhaps they were stockpiling cash in case of Brexit, but they needn’t have worried: Remain was clearly going to win.

Little did they know they had upset the wrong person. I vowed there and then to include this turn of events in my Pubquest blog, thereby exposing their shoddy customer service to our legions of fans. Give it a month, two months tops, and The Ball would be out of business, its reputation in tatters.

Locating a table as instructed, I took in my surroundings. The pub was a chain pub, but a good one: tables of regulars were dotted all around, and the central bar and numerous corners created an illusion of seclusion in what was clearly a large venue.

Rooney Juice was a pleasant pint which managed to disguise its 5.8% by being extremely drinkable – or, as ‘Chris’ from beer-review site Untappd puts it: “surprisingly good given the man’s a bellend.”

We finished our pints, and the manager eventually brought my change over, just as Rob’s girlfriend Hannah arrived to pick us up.

“The first referendum results have just come in,” she exclaimed, “and it was a massive vote for Remain.” 

Just as we expected.

“Where was it?” we asked, intrigued.

“Gibraltar.”

Postscript: I’m sure this part doesn’t need saying, but Leave won the referendum, Iceland knocked England out of Euro 2016, and several months later The Ball is still a thriving and profitable venue whose reputation took no damage from Pubquest’s exposé.

Pub: The Ball (171-173 Crookes, S10 1UD)
Rating: 6.5/10
Pint: Rooney Juice
Brewery: Naylor’s Brewery (Cross Hills, North Yorkshire)

NEXT UP: Minor celebrities, at The Head of Steam... 

Pub 103, Day 39 – The Punch Bowl

By Rob

What normal person understands, really, how the European Union works? It's made up of seven institutions, twenty-eight member states (for now), and operates largely out of immediate view. Our relationship with this organisation has never been straightforward: we're in the Customs Union, but not the Eurozone; we're in the Single Market, but not the Schengen Area.

The pros and cons of our membership are so numerous and complex that you cannot reasonably expect, say, Jeff the window cleaner to be au fait with the regular minutes of the European Parliament. Instead, we expect our politicians – whom we elect – to understand this detail, and to act on it accordingly in our best interests.

It made perfect sense, therefore, that in 2016 the Prime Minister – David Cameron – decided to hand this intensely complicated, multi-faceted question over to the people, and to reduce it to a binary choice: in or out? An attempt to resolve a many-layered question with a yes/no answer – a bit like asking someone to capture the Mona Lisa on an Etch-a-Sketch. It was always going to end well...

***

A referendum?! As we set out elsewhere in this blog, Andy and I always made sure to meet up, and drink, during the big votes. General elections were normally spent with a Chinese (a takeaway, not an individual) and some beers. Now it was time for another enormous democratic exercise, and this one would be no exception.

As with any major UK vote, the results weren't expected until late, giving us the necessary time to fit a couple of pubs in. We were planning to watch the results at mine, in Broomhill, and so headed to nearby Crookes in search of some pre-referendum tipple.

Our first stop was The Punch Bowl – a Greene King pub, more catered to selling food than pouring pints. It looked every inch the standard chain pub: clean wood benches, bright lights, spacious rooms, and an obvious focus on serving grub.

But let's not hold that against them! The beer choice was not so dismal, and we each ordered a pint of Born in the USA – a "mosaic citra equinox IPA" (no? me neither) coming in at 6%. It was, basically, a strong IPA with a lemon aftertaste – perfectly nice.

However sweet the pint might have been, it paled in comparison to Andy's glass-full of actual sweets, which he wolfed down like a crazed, juvenile diabetic.

Sitting there, sipping our drinks, with Andy bouncing off the walls in a sugar high, we started to discuss the upcoming vote. In some ways, we figured, it was more exciting than a general election – after all, this was a vote to decide on Britain's place in the world, with results that would last for a generation.

On the other hand, we thought, it was less exciting. General elections could be unpredictable, whereas the referendum was a sure thing. Nobody expected Remain to lose. Preparing ourselves for an uneventful evening of predictable politics, we drank up and headed to the next pub.

Pub: The Punch Bowl (236 Crookes, S10 1TH)

Rating: 6.5/10

Pint: Born in the USA

Brewery: Blue Bee Brewery (Sheffield)

NEXT UP: Shoddy customer service, at The Ball...

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