Pub 106, Day 40 – The Itchy Pig Ale House

By Rob

Imagine the excitement when we first heard that a new micropub was opening in Broomhill, right at the bottom of my street.

But first, a crucial question: does a micropub count as a pub?

We decided that it does, for the same reason that microfibres are still fibres, and a microbiologist is still a biologist (albeit one who is very small studies microscopic organisms).

With the passage of time and a little patience, we soon found ourselves sitting in what had become, without a doubt, my closest boozer.

From outside it looked more like a butcher's than a pub, with its shopfront aesthetic and porcine branding. Inside, it was a small-yet-stylish affair with wooden flooring, and a counter decorated in a million different 2p coins. The lighting, I was later told, is that found in pig pens throughout the country, and in place of standard furniture you can enjoy resting your pint on an old Singer sewing table.

The best thing about the Pig, however, is not the decor. Speaking from regular experience, I can safely say that the selection of beers has no rival in Broomhill – David beats Goliath in the battle for providing the best booze. The Pig regularly switches up the drinks on offer and, via the blackboard, keeps its punters updated on what’s coming down the pipeline. Not only this, but it’s one of the few venues in the area to have an ever-changing series of both keg and cask beers, helping to keep the selection diverse and interesting.

No wonder it enjoys such a successful showing at the CAMRA awards, despite only recently arriving on the scene.

Andy and I each ordered a pint of Red Star IPA, from Tollgate – a nice light beer, with citrussy and floral notes.

As we sat down, we found ourselves pleasantly surprised by the Pig. Its small size and lack of music didn’t prevent it from cultivating a warm, friendly, public house atmosphere. In fact, the small size seemed to encourage conversation between people on either side of the bar, and between the customers themselves.

Without a doubt, this micropub was clearly a pub.

As I’ve desperately tried to explain to women for almost ten years now: it’s not size that matters.

Pub: The Itchy Pig Ale House (495 Glossop Rd, S10 2QE)

Rating: 8.5/10

Pint: Red Star IPA

Brewery: Tollgate Brewery (Calke, Derbyshire)

NEXT UP: Pubquest gets free beers! At Sentinel Brewhouse...

Pub 105, Day 40 – The Head of Steam

By Andy

When Pubquest first began – before we had any idea what a ridiculous impact it would have on our lives – there was only one ambition: to drink a pint in every pub in Sheffield.

However, like all men are prone to do when down the pub with their mates, we quickly got carried away.

Every pub in Sheffield would be too easy, we decided. It's barely even a challenge. Heck, we'd probably be done within a year!

So as that first evening wore on, we set ourselves additional targets. First up: to drink a different pint in each pub. With hindsight, this turned out to be a masterstroke, and has seen us sample everything from liquorice beer to ridiculous floral concoctions.

But still it wasn't enough.

When biographers write our story and directors shoot our movie, what tangible moments would we be able to point to?

“Well I'd like to win a pub quiz, at some point,” announced Rob. “Seeing as we'll be going to 500 pubs.”

“Good idea... I'd like to be recognised,” I declared, daydreaming. “Just once, I'd like to be at a new pub, and have the landlord ask if we're the guys from Pubquest.”

Presumably, this sick fantasy would conclude with him giving us free drinks, along with a guided tour of his establishment.

And so it was that these two loftier targets were added to our plan. As the years passed, and merely visiting the pubs seemed an impossible dream, we dared not mention these additional ambitions.

After all, we had already proved ourselves utterly incapable of achieving the first, with several dismal pub quiz attempts.

But one day, the unthinkable happened: a pub tweeted us.

Thanks @SheffPubquest - looking forward to meeting you! 🍻 https://t.co/oeA4Gzw43N

— Head of Steam Sheffield (@HOS_Sheffield) April 13, 2016

This was our moment – after years of toiling away for no reward, we had our very own superfan: the Head of Steam landlord! Had he been studying our photos, eagerly awaiting the moment we strolled through the door? Had he only become a landlord so he could feature on Pubquest, his all-time favourite blog? Was the beer emoji in his tweet an implicit promise of a free drink?

Pencilling in our visit for as soon as possible, we debated leaving our wallets at home – after all, this one would be all expenses paid. However, not wanting to seem too Big Time Charlie, we decided to take them along.

***

We swung open the doors with vigour, and they slammed slightly behind us. Never mind, our visit was hardly going to fly under the radar.

Purposefully striding to the bar, we caught the eye of the nearest barman.

“Hiya fellas,” he exclaimed, smiling.

“Hello,” we retorted, a large grin plastered on our faces.

A long pause. Our smile remained, but the barman's began to flicker.

“What can I get you?” he requested.

“Well you know how it is,” we replied. “Something we've not had before.”

A longer pause.

“Right,” came the response. Another pause. “Anything in particular?”

Rob caught my eye. Had staff members not been prepped for our visit?

There was only one thing for it: it was time to namedrop.

“Well here at Pubquest, we drink a different beer at each pub.”

“Right,” began the barman once more, his expression revealing that he understood none of my sentence. “So lager or...”

“Two pints of Olympian,” Rob interjected, pointing to the nearest pump clip.

While the barman poured our beers, we glanced around – there was no 'Welcome' banner, there was no reserved table, and there wasn't even a buffet to greet our arrival.

It soon transpired there was to be no discount on our drinks either.

Realising they had probably outsourced their social media to a teenager who was paid per tweet, we hurriedly headed to the beer garden, too ashamed to remain indoors.

Despite our humiliation, we agreed that we rather liked The Head of Steam – the inside was spacious and modern, and the tables outside were located slap-bang in Tudor Square. The drink selection too was impressive, with ale aficionados and spirit-lovers equally well-catered for.

Still, we didn't stick around.

Legends in our own lunchtime once more, we promptly made tracks for The Itchy Pig Ale House, where we were guaranteed a warm welcome – because Rob already knew the landlord.

Pub: The Head of Steam (103-107 Norfolk Street, S1 2JE)
Rating: 8.5/10
Pint: Olympian
Brewery: Rudgate Brewery (Tockwith, North Yorkshire)

NEXT UP: Our first micropub, at The Itchy Pig Ale House...

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...