A flimsy premise for a post, but on my return to Manchester from (historic) Cheshire I succumbed to that rarity, a return visit to a pub.
Last year GBG Northern Quarter newbie Pie & Ale House got relatively short shrift from me, mainly as I’d spectacularly failed to find the Ale side of the equation. Despite decent beer (albeit Wells & Young), and decent music (Judas Priest), I didn’t expect it to last into the 2018 Guide, such is the pace of change in Central Manc.
But what do I know ? Not a lot. It’s still there.
Simon hated it, by the way. Always a good sign.
I do like to revisit places I was probably wrong about. But I also fancied a pie. I must have been ill, as generally Manchester = This & That.
A year ago, I turned left at the entrance to Pie & Ale and got Charlie Wells in a jug. This time, I turned right and entered what could have been Port Street .
The one on the left is Bedford’s finest, the other five cask distinctly Northern class.
There’s only one problem with Squawk beers in my experience. I always choose the strong one. It drank a little too smoothly; I couldn’t fault the cellarmanship here (NBSS 4). Six pumps is still five too many, mind (etc etc)
Pub wise, it’s not very pubby (more so on the outside tables to be fair). Most folk come for the pies. But Manchester does this type of relaxed craft diner better than anywhere, and unlike Simon I don’t always smuggle a Greggs sausage roll into a pub. I even went for the high table; BRAPA would have had a field day with me.
The minted lamb pie with mash was as good as the beer. Hard crust pie, too, none of your flaky nonsense. You’ll know I’m a pie connoisseur.
But what’s with the little sheep biscuit on top of the mash ? *
No Judas Priest this time. Or Saxon.
Good job Mrs RM had stayed home for this one. Her feet wouldn’t have reached the floor, and she’d have tried to drink the Cloudwater from the bottle.
*Dramatic update – Mr Coldwell the biscuit tells you what’s in the pie.