“Not another post from Newark !” I can hear Dick and Dave cry from 2,138 miles away.
Well tough, Newark is full of good beer, cheer and isn’t very dear (that should get me a tenner from the Tourist Office). It’s so good we might end up living in our campervan on the free site at Brownhills. Not much different from this couple.
Since ErlangerNick asked, this is what it looks like. The rack at the back is for carrying copies of the Beer Guide, of course.
Newark is a good base for rail journeys to Nottingham, Cleethorpes and Retford, but I’m considering taking on a full review of all the local pubs, as long as Mrs RM pops her head in first.
Last Monday night, after surviving Carlton, we thought the Spoons was our safest bet on a quiet night.
Newark is somewhere between Chesterfield and Stamford on the down-to-earth/posh scale, which is a good place to be. Plenty of independent restaurants without pretension, enough antique trade visitors to keep them in business, but plenty of basic pubs and sweet shops too. Perhaps a few too many boarded up buildings on show at the moment.
The Sir John Arderne is the sort of Spoons you expect some BRAPA-standard action, but sadly it’s a pale shadow of Royston.
If Simon had been there, he might have noted a pub blogger getting irritated by his charming wife as she took more than two minutes to choose from the menu (“It’s a Spoons !!! You know what’s on the menu !!!“) and insisting on moving seats (“Sit Down !!”)
Elsewhere there was a squeaking lady, a lady declaring “even if he takes me to court” , and much discussion about the genius of Ronnie Barker, none of it insightful. Even these slim pickings would have been better than what was on TV, I feel certain.
Two old blokes were very excited about the beer paddle, and told a story about 14 year old paper boys being paid in beer in Wisbech. It may have been biographical.
The beer was pretty good, with a better selection from their Festival than I saw in Cambridge, and we were able to offload a couple of CAMRA vouchers, even when Mrs RM cruelly went for a dish with “free” beer.
The Brouwerij ’t IJ/Caledonian was a 3.5, the Banks Brazilian thing a 3, and the Titanic Capuccino was undrinkable, purely on taste. The Banks (5%) was their Monday Club beer at £1.35 a pint, which I make 47p a unit. Excellent.
Because we had the smashed avocado and QunnWa for mains, I asked the question.
“Would you like pudding ?”
“Need you ask ?”
This is what 2,000 calories looks likes, folks.
Spoons should really accept CAMRA vouchers against sticky toffee pudding.
Mrs RM had had the better of the evenings beverages, and gained the courage to quiz the young man about the ordering App. I’m still not sure what stops a savvy 14 year old ordering six cans of Sixpoint Resin to be brought to his table.
“But can I use it to order real ale ? I drink real ale you know”
“You can order Greene King IPA or Doom Bar at the moment”
You can guess the rest.