One more pub for the Southworths in Leek last Thursday, and one more for me before the obligatory curry.
Across the road to the Wilkes Head, Paul Mudge’s pick.
It looks inviting during the day,
but comes into its own at dusk.
A Proper Pub always has a raffle of some sort, even if this one appears to have a prize of Doris Day, which is a bit macabre.
My first visit for 15 years, the Southworth twins had been here last night and described the pub beautifully as “an extension of the owner“.
They’d met someone from Arkansas, my notes say. Except they pronounce it Ar-kan-saw.
As in the other pubs, three pints of Hartington Bitter, the obvious choice. Pub Curmudgeon swears by it.
I nabbed the best seat in the house, Dick and Dave nabbed the cheese and biscuits laid out for our pre-curry tea.
Bench seating, cool beer, unintelligible banter, scruffy (but clean) loos. Magic.
“It’s not a buffet” said our Landlord, in a friendly tone.
“Does he mean it ?” said Dick, mildly alarmed.
When the regulars started tipping up at 6.30 he went back for more. The cracker thief of Leek.
The Hartington was cool and chewy, another NBSS 3.5 in a town of NBSS 3.5s, but we needed curry after all that cheese.
I was right about Naz, you know.