Back once again to the Cheshire pain.
I’m fussy about beer glasses. To me, all glasses should look like this;
Preferably with Bass still in them. Tekus are acceptable for the evil craft keg.
The ultimate atrocity isn’t even the handled jug, it’s those ridiculous Adnams glasses that have been ruining Richard Coldwell’s holiday recently.
They’re even worse than the really thin containers I get with halves these days, like the one at the Badger in Church Minsworth, a painful bus journey from Nantwich.
The best thing about the Badger was its promise of an 11.30am start. Obviously I don’t believe GBG opening times anymore, so admired the church and timbers for a few minutes. It was a bit like Prestbury without the posh shops and footballers (unless the Crewe Alex rightback lives here, I’ve no idea what a League 2 clogger earns these days).
Just then I spotted one of those phalanxes of OAP ramblers emerging from the pub car park, headed for Aston juxta Mondrum, I guessed. They were dressed for the Alps.
Guessing the group must have negotiated parking in return for a fiver’s worth of business later, I popped my head round the door.
Yes, it’s a boutique restaurant that makes Brunning & Price look like a Toby carvery. My mum would love it.
There was no-one about, so I explored the rooms for a bit.
“Can I help you”
“May I have a drink”
“Oh. Oh. ” I have that effect on people.
Anyway, here’s the four localish beers that get you in the Beer Guide in rural Cheshire these days.
This was a dull drop of Tatton in a tiny glass that crushed any life out of a beer that may have left the brewery in good shape. NBSS 2, at best. Of course, no-one who visits will have heard of any of those beers before, or ask for any of them again once they realise that real ale really is supposed to be that warm.
I never quite made myself comfortable in the Chesterfields (I wasn’t sitting at the dining tables), even when they put on the R.E.M. (’91, not ’85 vintage).
Had this been a pint in a Wetherspoons, I’d have taken it back and swapped it for a Doom Bar. As it was, rather than scare the lady again, I left what you can see below. There’s enough beer there to buy a 2 up, 2 down on Gresty Road.
Nantwich did get better.