Interesting reading Boak & Bailey’s recent post on their move from Cornwall (“Craft Central” to you and me) to the cask desert that is Bristol, and their anticipation at discovering their new local. I hope all goes well on both fronts.
Our nearest pub, in Waterbeach, is rather taken for granted, I’m sorry to say. That’s more to do with being perpetually on the move than the Sun being anything other than a high quality local. If I lived next to the Boar’s Head or the Marble Arch I doubt I’d visit them as much as you’d expect.
As so often, it takes a visit from a stranger to get you to reassess your home town again. Perennial curry mate Charles tipped up for a pint and Indian, both of which Waterbeach do well for a backwater Fen village.
Last time we popped in, the Sun offered Wherry, Broadside and a guest, which is fair enough for a Punch house.
“What’s that shiny blue tap” said Mrs RM, eyes lighting up.
“Grief. It’s Punk IPA. In Waterbeach” Cambridge still doesn’t have a BrewDog bar.
Clearly, as a CAMRA stalwart, I had the Mosaic, shameful Adnams glass and all. It was tremendous (NBSS 4), surviving our heatwave well. But I also nicked half of Mrs RM’s BrewDog, never a good idea. Charles also succumbed to the evil keg. I let them polish off the Sun’s legendary hot nuts.
But it was Twisted, a potent little Woodfordes 7% IPA that reminded me of Headcracker, that won the night. Wherry often disappoints, and you wouldn’t drink Twisted in pints (unless you’re Mrs RM and Charles), but this was a clear winner of a beer.
Charles was impressed, and even more so with a wondrous Chicken Dhansak at Bollywood Spice, the improbably named curry house at the end of our lane.
Because we’re classy, we finished with Aldi’s finest and Ecclefechan tart direct from Ecclefechan. We may have exceeded both units and calorie allowances.
Punk is a favoured beer for Mrs RM, and it needed the flimsiest excuse to pop back a week later to make sure it was still on. This was the line-up when we popped in on Friday;
Obviously creatures of habit, we both had Punk again. And hot nuts.
But what you need to know is rather astonishing.
The next 10 pints served from the lounge bar were all cask. A range of folk, mainly couples across the age ranges, came in and kept the Black Sheep, Sheps and Batemans pumps whirring, early on a Friday evening.
While we set there enjoying our keg.