Straight into the new GBG20 entries, then. I expect Duncan did them in 1987, mind.
None of you guessed No.1.
Of course, it was the Red Lion in Maldon. Almost a clue in the name. Sort of.
Mrs RM and I met Joan and Dave Southworth there and used up lots of Spoons vouchers on Shefford’s SOD, which was a very Essex NBSS 3.5.
But if I had to use one phrase to sum it up, it wouldn’t be NBSS 3.5. It would be “detritus“.
Look how different the same beers appear pulled 30 seconds apart;
The next day I headed to one of a mere two Cambridgeshire new entries.
The Three Horseshoes in Houghton is a pleasantly dull hour’s walk from Huntingdon station, a bit less across the Ouse from Godmanchester.
I’m certain I’d been here before, possibly as a two year old when my parents brought me to Houghton Mill for boat trips on the pond. My sister, six months old at the time, will remember the scores for the lemonade.
Houghton is a pretty village, but you can only live here if you thatch your house with a key historical scene. Preferably not Cromwell.
In this scene we see Duncan and Simon arguing about who gets to post about the new GBG first.
Huntingdonshire pubs always look old because;
a) They’re old
b) That Mann’s signage really dates them.
It’s just gone twelve, the sun has brought the grey pound out to the Mill, and I prepare for the greeter.
But there’s no greeter. In fact it’s quite pubby, and the menu of paninis and cheesey chips in very 1987, if not 1967 (what was on a pub menu in 1967 ?).
All the beers are from the barrel, and you’ll have heard of nearly all of them.
Roger Protz has alerted us to a change in the recipe for the 2004 Best Bitter award winner.
“Why change perfection ?” I hear you say. No idea if this was pre- or post- makeover, but it was easily the best IPA for a long while. NBSS 3.5 at least.
The New Yorker and cheesey chips were best described as “filling”.
A proper pub lunch, in fact, accompanied by all your favourites ’70s hits. “Billy Don’t Be A Hero”, “All Right Now”, “
Anarchy in the UK“.
I’m mentally prepared for being the only customer at lunchtimes, so I was pleased when a couple of gentlefolk did turn up for lunch after half an hour.
“What’s your lowest alcohol beer ? Do you have Ghost Ship”
“Our lowest is 3.6%”
“Oh. That’s far too strong. I’ll have a lime and lemonade”
And we wonder why real ale sales have fallen off a cliff.