About time I started a post with a photo of beer barrels used as urinals.
On to Redditch, the town famous for having more roundabouts than Milton Keynes (don’t check that) and producing Steph from Big Brother, amongst lesser known stars. I also know people who live there, so I’m on best behaviour.
Rather like “The Keynes“, most GBG entries here have been dotted around the older suburbs. We’d only toyed with Redditch Central, enjoying the rumbustious atmosphere of the Wetherspoons with its 9am lager queue. And the rumbustious Wilko with its queue for Pick’n’Mix.
But with time for quiet reflection, the central square around the church looked rather handsome.
It’s a Sign of the Times (5 points for musical reference*) that the new GBG entry in unfashionable Redditch is a Brewery Tap. Except of course the brewery has already moved.
Tucked into a very leafy stretch of offices opposite the church, you could almost be in Chorlton. But it’s not that bad.
Looking a bit like the first office I worked in, without the Kalamazoo but with the wasabi nuts, the Black Tap is scruffily pleasant. Proper seating and lots of places to hide from the sole other drinker (it would be a different story by 9pm, I suspect).
I couldn’t imagine joining your mates for a game of darts at some Brew Taps I’ve been to (Cheltenham, for one), but the games room here looked authentic enough. Although I don’t fancy sitting below that dart board, either. Do Worcestershire folk have a death wish ?
All ales at £3.25, which almost makes it a micro pub I guess.
I asked what I should have. The young barman confessed he didn’t drink the ale, but made up for that with the sort of enthusiasm and cheeriness normally reserved for a branch of Café Nero, the best coffee chain.
“We have deep cellars that keep the beer cool” he told me, which I accepted at face value. The beer was cool and tasty (NBSS 3.5).
On reflection, it looks a bit empty, doesn’t it ? (the Spoons was packed). But some Mudgie-approved classic rock was playing at Mudgie volumes.
“Southern Man” sounded particularly good that Friday lunchtime.
Appropriately, the man at the bar in the Neil Young shirt then joined me in a conversation about the miraculous way the Wellington kept sixteen (16 !) beers in a pub the same size as this one.
The barman and Neil listened intently as I proclaimed the gospel of “less is more” when it comes to handpumps, entirely unconvinced.
*Not a Minneapolis one, Dave