Bit of a cheat, putting a pub in my Top 100 (373) when I only had a pint of water and Si’s dregs (which would make a great name for a beer).
But Makeney’s Holly Bush could just serve Peroni and you’d still want to drink there.
In case you’re paying attention, I did drop Si and Mark at the Spotted Cow (aka Spotted Calf café) in Holbrook, which you’ll recall I’d ticked off a week (77 posts) ago.
To be honest, it seemed more pubby on a Saturday afternoon than on the Sunday, and Si failed to annoy a Twild.
There’s another pub in Holbrook I may have mentioned before. Soon, I will attempt to capture the magic of the Dead Poets for you. Honest.
The Holly Bush has a similar feel to the Poet’s, from pashminas to poodles to Pedi. It really is a village pub, not a museum piece.
The snack board says “Classic” as much as the beer list. If I hadn’t had that pie in Bargate I’d have succumbed to the “Snack Special“.
On a previous visit I remembered a packed pub and a marvellous conservatory,
so well done Mark for nabbing the best seat in the house, next to the serving hatch.
It was just wonderful, and not at all preserved in aspic like some of those National Trust pubs can be. Actually, the best comparator for any of you unlucky enough to live in the South would be the Queen’s Head in Newton, but that’s just a bit more aware of its legendary status.
We were joined by a normal looking couple who seemed a bit scared by our intense pubby conversation, or perhaps it was BRAPA. Speaking of whom, I didn’t see him sneak any food into the pubs. Hope he’s alright.
The natural froth on the lads’ Pedi settled, they sighed contendly, I sneaked a sip of their dregs and judged it “lovely”.
Not that Mr Coldwell will ever be convinced, mind.