BECAUSE YOU CAN’T GO TO CORNWALL AND NOT DRINK DOOM BAR

Yes, just like visiting the Cotswolds and NOT slagging off Donnington BB, or staying in Burton and NOT downing a gallon of Carling, you MUST sample Doom Bar in its spiritual home.

So I did, leaving Mrs RM to her crochet or whatever women do when left to their own devices.

Only 14 minutes to the Ploughboy, with the added bonus of a takeaway from Mr Kuet next door. Hoorah !

It was a strange Friday night. An accident at Carkeel had left the A38 over the Tamar empty, but the streets of Saltash full of beeping horns and screaming toddlers.

In contrast, the Ploughboy was a scene of relative calm.

Weird locals, though.

It’s not the pub I’d have chosen in Saltash, home of the Union Jack bedecked Union and a micropub I’ve only just noticed.

But the Ploughboy was closest had life, and the promise of carvery style Friday night drama, and probably a Kelly’s ice cream for pudding.

In all honesty, it was a down-to-earth Hungry Horse, redeemed by a cheery Landlord who successfully made me feel grateful to him for finding a table by the pool table and the obligatory dog.

He even brought the card reader over with the pint, so I didn’t have to make my pathetic attempt to flag down someone to pay 10 minutes later.

Blur’s Greatest Hits in its entirety, which beats Queen of the Stone Age, I guess.

A superbly presented Doom Bar for you cynics to admire; it was GBG quality anywhere except in my Top 10 GBG Counties.

Which leaves Mr Kuet, which is a unique name on my list of Chinese takeaways. Only two in at a time, so the only banter you’ll hear is;

Are you waiting to order or pick up ? “. Ah, 2020.

Mrs RM said she wasn’t hungry but then had 41% of the Sweet & Sour Chicken and Singapore Rice, which would just make my Top 50 if I ever bore you with that.

I bet I’m back soon for that Saltash micro.

11 thoughts on “BECAUSE YOU CAN’T GO TO CORNWALL AND NOT DRINK DOOM BAR

    1. You’re the 577th person to spread this malicious rumour about little Doom Bar ! It’s the bottled version that’s brewed in Burton, not the cask. One of the few authentic beers left I guess.

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      1. Take heart! There are still over 10,000 independent Craft Breweries!

        Of course, it’s getting harder to find one that’s local. ๐Ÿ˜‰

        Cheers

        PS – and that pic is from 2018! Goodness knows what it’s like today!

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      2. Of course, the joy of pubbing as opposed to beer ticking is that you’ve no idea what you’ll have to drink inside. Not that you can see the bar with table service ๐Ÿ˜ฅ

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  1. “or staying in Burton and NOT downing a gallon of Carling”

    LOL. That most assuredly gives away your sarcasm. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    “or whatever women do when left to their own devices.”

    I’d say something but, as a married man, I learned long ago there are certain things you do NOT comment on.

    “An accident at Carkeel had left the A38 over the Tamar empty,”

    Pfft. Wankers. Jump on the Royal Albert Bridge (provided no trains are nearby).

    “Weird locals, though.”

    The 21st version of the Three Stooges?

    “and the promise of carvery* style Friday night drama,”

    Blimey! Are we talking Compton, the south side of Chicago, or perhaps… London? ๐Ÿ˜‰
    (by ‘carvery’ I’m assuming you meant ‘knife’ night life?)

    “He even brought the card reader over with the pint, so I didnโ€™t have to make my pathetic attempt to flag down someone to pay 10 minutes later.”

    Sigh. Welcome to ‘norm’ over here when out for a drink.

    “Ah, 2020.”

    Indeed. As the Chinese say… we are living in interesting times. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    “Mrs RM said she wasnโ€™t hungry but then had 41% of the Sweet & Sour Chicken and Singapore Rice,”

    I’d say something but, as a married man, I learned long ago there are certain things you do NOT comment on. ๐Ÿ™‚

    Cheers

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