The insidious invasion by micropubs continues apace, knocking perfectly good locals serving Jennings Bitter out of the Guide as it goes.
It was inevitable that small towns that had lost their “York National Bank ” or “Everitt the Butcher” would end up giving a recently retired couple the chance to serve beer like this,
to a room of middle-aged people forced to talk about beer festivals to each other.
I was fairly convinced that Hornsea‘s new Guide entry the Stackhouse Bar fell into that category, leaving Spurn Head as the only East Yorkshire settlement without a micro in 2017.
This was a 3rd trip to Hornsea, one to initiate an historic argument with Mrs RM over unnecessary (i.e. all) shopping at Freeport, and another to visit its sole GBG entry until this year. I’m a sucker for Mansfield livery.
Hornsea isn’t not a place where Midlanders or Yorkies set up camp for the week and drink the pub dry (I’m coming on to Cleethorpes soon), so three pubs round the Market Place, and a couple by the sea is probably enough for the daytrippers.
I feel obliged to share a photo of the sea, but with the tide in this was not a trip highlight.
Most visitors, including a worrying number of skiving school-children, were in the amusement arcades, rather than admiring the font at St Nicholas.
It’s a two-street town, the main one (Newbiggin) having the twin joys of a Heron Foods (all the best places have one) and, of course, a branch of Harper’s Fisheries of Wetwang that we discovered in Market Weighton. You can never have enough Wetwang in a post. The aroma of chips was even more alluring than in Driffield.
Newbiggin also has a bar with handpumps called Lucien’s, and our Stackhouse micro. Except that it turns out to a craft-conscious bar (by East Coast standards) of the first order.
It’s a classy little gem, apart from micro opening hours, a little bit of modern Middlesbrough by the coast.
An eclectic range of seating (church pews, cinema seats, and a chunk out of a Fly BMI plane), neat and cheery decoration, and a unisex toilet with the smallest wastepaper bin in the Kingdom. Old blokes, and mums and toddlers made up the afternoon custom.
Four well-chosen beers including a superb Ossett Inception (NBSS 4) served by welcoming staff who also know to play background music (the O’Jays, James Brown) at the right volume.
I have absolutely no idea what purpose the Mere serves. The same is true of Diss. But I do like the look of that Faszleves Bar in the island in the middle of it.