Part 2 (of 3) our pub bloggers conference in Yorkshire’s second city* or “Traincatching” as it came to be known.
With Wapentake whacked, a fierce debate ensued about the next stop. It really should have been the Duck & Drake, but we’d all been there.
While in Wapentake I’d taken a look in the local CAMRA glossy to see what pubs might be Guide-bound next year.
Full Measure is a fine branch magazine. For a start it kicks off with pub news, takes in places I’ve never heard of (Crossgates) and then goes on to publish NBSS scores for beers consumed by its members (see below). OK, beers consumed in London, but it’s a start.
I wasn’t allowed to ask Richard which pubs might be in the next edition of the GBG (I believe the
bribes discounts haven’t been confirmed yet), but seeing the Brunswick is a recent Pub of the Month meant it was a good bet for Simon and me.
Anything that close to North Bar can’t be bad. The Brunswick is from the same mould, long and narrow and quirky. Like Wapentake, beers from Leeds, with the Nomadic Tramp again very decent (NBSS 3). All the beer I had in Leeds was served at a decent temperature.
Note the barman desperately ducking behind the bar to avoid BRAPA.
It’s a shame there wasn’t a proper pub blogger there to record our conversations properly. I suspect in the main we were owning up to weird Doom Bar fetish and arguing about possessive apostrophes.
My notes say “red fountain pen“, which I presume is Richard’s preferred writing implement rather than a ’90s indie track by Felt.
Anyway, a pub with proper seats and space for banter is OK with me.
Miraculously, the same was true of our next stop.
For some reason we popped in the Brew Dog Shuffledog, probably my fault. I wanted to revisit the Live Dead Pony Club I’d enjoyed in Norwich. But it was dead. In fact, if it had been in the Beer Guide we’d have been able to get it kicked out and become minor celebrities on Discourse.
I again enjoyed my awesome Brew Dog experience, though I couldn’t get the juke box (below) to work.
The shuffleboards downstairs were even busier than the upstairs bar. I remember when you could get people into pubs just by offering them a choice of crisps, let alone shove ha’penny.
Live or dead, the “pours” were excellent. Jet Black Stout and something in Latin.
By this time it was past BRAPA bedtime and my last train was 30 minutes away, so we had to give PacMan a miss and head for our first trad pub of the night…