This blog introduces the first of our guest writers. In this instance, the author in question is our long-suffering friend Lucy, who was lucky enough to be selected (from a crowd of eager applicants) to join us for a few beers...
By
Lucy
Fast
approaching its 60th pub-iversary, the founders of Pubquest had
something of a celebration approaching. So, what better way to
celebrate than to head to the very heart of sophistication that is
Ecclesall Road? Situated in the second wealthiest area in the UK, it
boasts an array of upmarket boutiques, restaurants, bars, and South
Yorkshire’s only Waitrose. Except we weren't interested in any of
that, we were there for the other treat Eccy Road has to offer –
pubs, obviously.
Despite Rob and Andy's pledge to address the fact that Pubquest visits a disproportionate number of “nice” pubs, we found ourselves gravitating towards one of the more affluent areas of Sheffield (we’re not snobs, honest).
Incidentally, it also happened to be the day of my graduation! Yes,
the eagle-eyed readers among you will have spotted that neither Andy nor Rob
have bothered to blog tonight. Instead, they've decided to
introduce the concept of guest-bloggers as a “celebratory”
affair. I've known them both for over a decade now, so it comes as no
surprise that they're outsourcing their work – they're far
too lazy to write every review themselves.
Our
celebration began where Ecclesall Road meets Hunter's Bar roundabout,
in a cosy pub with a rather elegant facade (i.e: it had bay windows). Except it didn’t begin there for me, because unlike Andy and
Rob I do not possess an encyclopaedic knowledge of Sheffield pubs,
and they had failed to specify whereabouts on Ecclesall Road the Porter Brook
was. Given that we're talking about a stretch of road approximately three and
a half miles long, this was rather an important detail. So, whilst Andy and
Rob were tucking into their first pints, I was wandering around the
wrong end of the road, furiously channelling my frustration into a
group text.
“Where
are you?!?!”
Two
minutes later – which, by the way, feels like a lifetime when
you’re hanging aimlessly around, trying to look like you have a purpose – there was a distinct lack of reply from either of them.
Faced with no other option, I resorted to what every millennial
dreads: I called them.
Neither
of them answered – it’s an unwritten rule. However, as soon as I
hung my phone up after the 274th ring, a text message immediately
came through from Rob.
“Where
are you?”
“I’m
where you told me to be. By the Eccy Road roundabout.”
“Which
roundabout?”
“The
Waitrose one.”
“Oh
that’s the wrong one. We’re at Hunter's Bar.”
By
the time I had traipsed a mile or so up the road, Andy and Rob were
significantly ahead of me, drink-wise. Nevertheless, I ordered my
pint and hauled up a chair. I was pleasantly surprised by the pub; I
had expected a more middle-class affair. Despite its dignified
exterior, the Porter Brook emitted a very homely, personal
atmosphere. It boasted Sky Sports, a decent range of locally brewed ales, and
plenty of comfortable red leather chairs for which I was particularly
grateful. You can even sit outside and admire the riverside view if
your visit coincides with warm weather (the river is also named the
Porter Brook, as I’m sure you've figured out). Sadly, there
was no sign of a pool table, therefore Andy couldn’t further secure
his already substantial lead in their Pubquest sub-quest.
The
pint, a home brew called Porter Brook Ale (which we were apparently obliged to drink due to some obscure rule the guys invented), went down a treat: served
at just the right temperature and quenching the kind of thirst that
only a passive-aggressive stomp up a posh road can muster. Being
the height of British summer, the floral, slightly citrusy notes of
the ale reminded its drinkers of the sun they never get to see;
rounding off to a lip-puckering bitter finish which is precisely the
feeling we get when we realise how pathetic our summers actually are.
It
should also be said that the Porter Brook does some
delightful-sounding nosh too. Sadly, I had indulged in a carvery and
half a bottle of “Champsecco” earlier in the day, so there was
absolutely no chance I was going to sample their traditional pub grub – at least not without making myself violently ill.
So, despite its disappointing lack of pool/snooker facilities in which
Rob could further embarrass himself, the pub demonstrated the perfect
home away from home: light, spacious, yet somehow managing to exude an
intimate, welcome-home feel from the moment you walk through the door. A
very good find.
Pub:
Porter Brook (565 Ecclesall Rd, Sheffield S11 8PR)
Rating:
7/10
Pint:
Porter Brook Ale
No comments:
Post a Comment