By
Rob
Strolling
down Howard Street – one of Sheffield's more visually appealing and
smartly constructed pedestrianised thoroughfares – we arrived at The
Howard Hotel.
Anyone
who has ever made use of the train station, or strolled by it, will
have noticed the pub. Its large, striking, half-timber Tudor exterior
is very much a part of Sheaf Square's immediate landscape. And yet,
despite its semi-iconic status as a piece of local architecture, I
had never been inside.
Setting
right this inexcusable travesty, we headed indoors.
Now,
the old English idiom that Andy and I continually find ourselves
repeating – "never judge a book by its cover" – has served
us well. Every now and then we come across a pub that, based on its
outward appearance, we think will be a rough 'un. As previous instalments have demonstrated, our initial assumptions are often
wrong.
Once
again, the time-honoured metaphorical phrase proved itself apt.
However, instead of being pleasantly surprised, this time we were
disappointed.
Looking
at The Howard's handsome Tudor facade, I couldn't help
but expect an interior that was just as aesthetically
impressive. Unfortunately, the cosy taproom with its thick wooden
roof beams and crackling log fire was nowhere to be seen. Instead, we
walked into a large, open-plan establishment that was decidedly
average in its presentation.
Of
course, I should point out that there was nothing at all wrong with
the pub. It was spacious, reasonably modern and it had a pool table.
The only issue was that in the case of this particular book, the
contents didn't reflect the cover.
The Howard pub, centre-right. (Photo from Google Maps, contributor: Alasdair Denton) |
Approaching
the bar, we eyed the reasonably decent range of ales and opted for a
pint of Ruby Liquorice Smoked Beer. Upon hearing this, the woman
behind the bar laughed at us. If that reaction wasn't enough to make
us dubious about our selection, a second member of staff
came over and asked us if we like smoky bacon crisps. However, the fact is that we do like smoky bacon
crisps. This, the helpful barman went on to suggest, meant that we
should find the ale to our liking.
Naturally,
the three of us gravitated towards the pool table and Izzy watched on
in delight as Andy and I won a match each. She also watched on in
delight as the two of us struggled to slowly make our way through the
pints we had bought.
The
notion that our positive disposition towards smoky bacon crisps would
somehow translate into an appreciation of the beer turned out to be
woefully inaccurate. I do like smoky bacon crisps and, when
I'm buying actual bacon, I always opt for the smoked variety. I like
smoked sausages and I'm also partial to certain smoked cheeses. I'm
no great lover of fish, but I think smoked salmon is at least
palatable. I can’t even be accused of being prejudiced against
smoked beverages, because I quite enjoy a cup of the smoked lapsang
souchong tea. But despite this wide range of consumables, the fact
remains that some things just ought not to be smoked, and beer is one
of them.
We later discovered that this particular beverage is part of the Marston's Brewery 'Revisionist' range, which aims to provide people with "something a little different" by allowing the brewers to "ignore the rule book".[1] While we all might like to go a little crazy sometimes, I think this proves that in most circumstances, the rulebook is there for a reason.
We later discovered that this particular beverage is part of the Marston's Brewery 'Revisionist' range, which aims to provide people with "something a little different" by allowing the brewers to "ignore the rule book".[1] While we all might like to go a little crazy sometimes, I think this proves that in most circumstances, the rulebook is there for a reason.
Halfway
through our visit and we were joined by my girlfriend, Hannah. Ever
the supportive ray of sunshine (if at any point you think I'm being
too soppy then please put yourself in my shoes and understand that
she will, at some point, read this) she had come to join us on the
evening’s journey.
As
we neared the bottom of our glasses, Andy had started to warm to the
smoked beer. By the time he reached the final few drops, he had come
to appreciate its unique flavour and distinctive aroma. Meanwhile, I
was still retching my way through the last mouthfuls of what
tasted like the pungent run-off from a swilled-out ashtray.
Eventually
the drinks were put away and the four of us left. While
the innards had failed to live up to the standard set by the
exterior, and I had found my pint almost offensive due to the savagery it inflicted upon my tongue, The Howard Hotel
is actually a perfectly pleasant pub that is worth a visit if you're
hovering around the train station and find yourself stricken with a
thirst.
Howard Pool Score: Andy 1-1 Rob
Pubquest
Pool Score: Andy 34-24 Rob
Pub:
The Howard (57 Howard Street, S1 2LW)
Rating:
6/10
References:
[1] http://www.revisionistbeers.co.uk
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