Earlier this month I gave my regular squeal of anguish from a pub that should have been opened but wasn’t.
Some people would have given the Stag in Mentmore up as a bad job, but us Guide tickers don’t have that luxury. And, following our intensive training at GBG Base Camp*, we’re all prepared for the worst that Buckinghamshire can throw at us.
I phoned up before making this trip. They sounded very nice.
Mentmore does at least have the advantage of being a short hop on the train from Leighton Buzzard, and a longer walk from Cheddington.
That’s the Leighton Buzzard with this sight, by the way. Five points for identifying the pub.
Mentmore looked a little less misty, and hence even less interesting, than before. Perhaps some of my readers may live in places without trees.
I was really hoping the Stag would either be unexpectedly great, or so bad I got a good blog post out of it.
“Will you be dining with us, Sir ?”
Along with jam jars in front of hand pumps, Tap Takeovers and table reservations, nothing makes the heart sink more than these words. I answered apologetically;
“No, just a Bombardier and a packet of those wonderful Pipers crisps please“.
This was my window seat in the bar area. Two high posing tables and a large sofa.
There was no-one else obviously about, but the car park was full. So the extent of the banter was a never-ending series of phone calls looking for Sunday lunch reservations.
This is obviously a very successful restaurant, if not a great pub. That fire in the top photo would have been pleasant in a cosy boozer, a soundtrack of Bill Withers was played at decent volume and the foamy head made a nice addition to my collection.
But as Bill would say, “Ain’t No Sunshine in a drab NBSS 2.5 pint of Bombardier”.
I hope you appreciate the anguish Duncan, Simon and I go to bring you reports from places like this. But I bet you don’t.
*2 days course at Maidenhead Conservative Club