Enough of my whining about dull beer. Anyway “It’s real ale, it’s supposed to taste like that“.
Here’s some “street” art.
It was a joy to be alive, a joy to not be in Maidenhead, a joy to be visiting my third GBG pub in St Andrews at 11:54am.
Yes folks, three before noon. Paul Mudge would be proud.
Now, this was a real pub. Despite the threat of food, The Criterion felt like the kind of Brain’s boozer you got in St. Mary’s St. before the Cardiff brewery lost its brains.
Gleaming surfaces, efficient service, uniformed staff, a boisterous order maintained.
One long room, a few tables at front and back, seats at the bar, high tables along the wall.
Sunday drinking lives on here, at least. Old Boys ordering cheese toasties at the bar. All very unfussy.
But was it all chasers and Tennents?
My third Stewart 80/ in an hour. This was stunning, at least by Scottish standards. Cool, complex, rich. NBSS 3.5+.
I almost stayed for a pint of the Edinburgh Castle, a bellwether beer.
The soundtrack in the Gent’s was Hibs v Rangers. You really don’t want Souness in the loo with you.
In the bar, we had Kylie.
“I should be so lucky” if all Scottish pubs were this good.
Oddly, the next one was.