My most diligent readers will note I’ve used that title for Blackpool before. And will probably use it in Grantham and Kilmarnock as well now.
Mrs RM was still preparing her Monday presentation when I returned with a can of Vocation Pride & Joy and a fudge brownie from some indie shop called Tezcoxprs or something.
So I headed off to the new craft place myself, via the raging sea and exciting newspaper headlines.
I think the obvious comment here is that condoms are more edible than halloumi. And leave it there.
There was no-one in the sea, which just shows you what a
cowardly sensible lot they are in Sussex.
I wouldn’t say Brighton is my favourite town, it’s probably 15th. But no other town (yes, yes I know) seems to offer so many surprises on my annual visit.
Like this bit a mile north in what might very well be called Round Hill. Or possibly Seven Dials.
You could be in Bucharest around here.
But Romanians would turn there noses up at the scruffy looking UnBarrd Taproom, which of course has already changed its name from the one in the GBG to foil BRAPA.
Inside there’s some shiny brewery kit, but none of you are interested in that.
You want to know how much I paid for my craft.
£4 for a schooner of the one that wasn’t called Bueno Shake or Chai Latte or Apricot Sour.
In fact, the only cask, and it was a bit meh, so I should have had the Wimpy Milkshake Sour.
The tacos were weird too.
Still, let’s not complain, it’s the real Brighton and a tick. And Duncan had confirmed that Haus on the Hill was just a renaming of the Southover so a freebie tick there.
Mrs RM hadn’t really missed out on the beer, I reasoned, but she made up for it in Tinto Taperia with this robust loganberry sour.
You always assume Brighton is expensive, but the Tinto provided big plates of squid and octopus I’m still dreaming of now for New Brighton prices.
Showing huge restraint, we then resisted a nightcap in the gorgeous theatre bar.
I sense Mrs RM failed to exercise such restraint the next night, but I’ll leave that for her blog.