On the way we lost a Sheffield Hatter, but did find a Melox Marvel. While Mrs RM is quite taken with the shops at the Bullring I marvel at the Digbeth warehouses and street art.
And while Mrs RM will no doubt find some sort of electrical frippery to waste my beer budget in the New Street Station shops, I’ll never spend her Prosecco budget on dog biscuits.
The Big Bull continues the Digbeth theme; multi-roomed Victoriana, wide windows on the world, World Cup flags, unpretentious Brummie welcome,
and of course, just keg beers…
Yes, instead of Banks’s or Pedi it was a choice of Marston’s Oyster Stout, Carling, Guinness or tap water.
The reaction of our group was akin to making a special trip to Wetherspoons for Curry Club, only to discover that only the chickpea option is left. I thought we would be making a special trip to Heart of England Hospital, so deep was the trauma.
But having mildly chastised the first two pubs for having too much cask on, can you really blame the Big Bull for leaving the cask ale lottery altogether. It’s never going to compete with the specialists like Wellington, Lamp or Post Office, and there aren’t many old codgers making special trips for Marston’s beer, more’s the pity.
Anyway, we had some good banter here, wondering whether golf is a real sport if they don’t sledge each other in the pairings.
And contemplating more crisps as the clock ticked over to 2pm and it became clear our pub grub was being freshly cooked.
In the end I picked up the local glossy, and Pub Curmudgeon informed me who Meghan Trainor is (a Draught Bass fan, apparently).
I’m sure Ms Trainor would have the home-made burger and twice-cooked chips as much as we did.
I failed to convert the two Mudgies to the joys of keg stout.