You left us, what feels like years ago*, on the pavement outside the Bakers Vaults, son and father enjoying a rather foamy Unicorn.
Matt could sense my unease at the gaggle of Old Boys standing impatiently outside the Angel, my real target as the first new GBG entry in central Stockport since the wonderful Petersgate Tap with the brilliant Bass but irritating opening times (i.e. never open when I visit at odd times).
His running commentary gave me hope “They’re still waiting, anyway“, then dashed it “No sign of life, bet they’ve decided to stay closed to annoy you“.
But then some staff emerged at 12:30 to put some tables on the pavement, which promptly filled up to send me into panic mode.
So I was rather nervous after necking that 2nd pint unadvisedly quickly and rushing to plead with the Angel for a seat.
Matt is used to this sort of behaviour, thankfully, and calmed me down.
No idea why they were so busy, though frankly there wasn’t a lot else open (the Sams were shut) and the Angel looked a pleasant boozer from what I could see on the journey through to the beer garden.
Now, here’s where it goes awry. Despite my assumptions, NO FOOD (not even hot dogs) in the Bakers and no food in the Angel.
I suppose beer IS a sort of food, isn’t it ? A pint each of the House Beer, which I guess might have been Beartown and was pretty good. Matt didn’t grimace at the BBB, which is good.
But not as good as the can of Nightjar I sort of HAD to have because Matt was drinking so slowly.
Matt seems to have acquired enough local knowledge from cutting Manc hair to know that beer is cheaper outside the Northern Quarter, and that Phil Foden is the Stockport Iniesta. Which is all you need to know.
And that’s all I have to say on the subject of the Angel. Oh, the staff were REALLY good, chatty and informed.
And they’ve got Frank in the Gents, so they get my vote.
Now we REALLY needed some food.
*I’ve given up trying to do blog posts on my phone in a campervan so unfortunately have about 37 to do tonight.