The last pub on my first excursion of the Summer into Zummerzet had been on my list for years.
A short hop from Taunton, a safe distance from the terrors of Bridgwater, tucked into the Blackdown Hills, home of 97 year old landladies and Otter.
I hoped I might get Otter in the Lamb and Flag on Blagdon Hill.
No such luck, but I did get a pub with a drinking porch, flagstone floors, a good mix of custom and flawless staff.
If in doubt, ask the barman what’s going quickest when you can’t lean over the bar and see what’s dripping most.
It just had to be the Dartmoor with a handwritten paper label, didn’t it.
Now, the reaction to my previous post was to suggest I get a fault finding card and book an appointment to discuss diacetyl in my half drunken half with disinterested bar staff.
But when it looks like this, there’s no need for scientific analysis, is there?
It was drinkable, but not worth the effort (NBSS 2).
I took my glass on a tour of the skittle alley, failed to find a pot plant and the Gents had to suffice.
But the staff were SO nice I gave the Lamb & Flag a chance to redeem itself, and had a half of Sheppy’s from the barrel.
It was great. Sometimes you’re best drinking what the locals drink, instead of what CAMRA reckon, you know.