I somehow managed 3 pub-less days last week, which means I let pubs die.
But with the plasterers in the house, Mrs RM and I needed to get out by the Wednesday.
So we wandered down to central Hillsborough, celebrating both the line-up for Tramlines in the local park and the continued capitulation of “Wayne Rooney’s Derby” that meant the big battle to reach Division 3 would go to the final day of the season.
Despite the arrival of £5 loaves and craft beer, Middlewood Road remains a Proper High Street packed with butchers, bargains and Big Breakfasts.
We picked the last outside table at Ruby’s, where there was absolutely no chance of a Flat White and Eggs Benedict.
How Mrs RM resisted the Potted Meat and Dripping I’ll never know, but the cheese and onion toastie and big mug of capperchino did the trick. We felt like locals !
To be honest, I wished I’d had Fred Funk’s Pork Sandwich with crackle, but it wasn’t match day. What are match days ?
Mrs RM needed a “comfort break”, but I cruelly made her accompany me round the delights of B & M Bargains, which may be just the biggest B & M in the world.
Their beer range is a joy for fans of The Time Before Craft. Didn’t Cains make Faxe before the Dusanjis ruined Liverpool’s finest ?
Ultimately we settled for a Ginger Tom and a giant bottle of Leffe, which Mrs RM finished off in one evening while I was away. It made such a CLANG ! when I threw it in the brown bin that my hearing feels permanent wrecked. If that doesn’t put you off Belgian beer I don’t know what will.
Weaned on Potted Meat Cobs, still get cravings for them now and then, but the potting of meat seems to have been banned south of ‘The North’ following the late 20th Century vCJD Pandemic (of which I note Cattle were ‘not’ banned from gathering and ruminating in pubs!). Dripping however is very nasty stuff, best avoided. I was tricked into eating some on posh rounds of Deli France Baguette, served up as the after match skittles supper at the now closed (natch!) Catholic Club in Market Harborough. NDSS 0.5, nasty!
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There’s loads of the stuff about.
It just gets called pâté these days.
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Ooh! pâté de carne recuperada mecánicamente.
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E conservato da nitrito di sodio.
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Is the Faxe any good ? I interpreted this as a Norse swear word given the Viking on the can… 🙂
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I resisted it Graeme. It used to be sold in the ’90s in large tins (a litre I think) for about £2 and was pretty decent. If I go back to B & M I’ll buy one.
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“I somehow managed 3 pub-less days last week, which means I let pubs die.”
Nonsense. It’s because they were FULL.
“But with the plasterers in the house, Mrs RM and I needed to get out by the Wednesday.”
No argument here!
“and the continued capitulation of “Wayne Rooney’s Derby” that meant the big battle to reach Division 3 would go to the final day of the season.”
Ah. End of season. That explains the laser like focus on footy for you lot lately.
“Despite the arrival of £5 loaves ”
No comment on that, but thanks for the OS map. I saw ‘Allot Gdns’ and it allowed my brain to remember the word ‘allotments’. I’d been trying to describe a communal garden thingy in the UK to a friend and for the life of me couldn’t remember the word ‘allotment’. (blush)
“where there was absolutely no chance of a Flat White and Eggs Benedict.”
And shouldn’t they ‘temporarily’ change the menu where it says ‘EAT IN’. 😉
“How Mrs RM resisted the Potted Meat and Dripping I’ll never know”
No 6% or higher beer to go with it. 😉
“and big mug of capperchino”
What?
“What are match days ?”
They still have the TV version I hear. 🙂
“Mrs RM needed a “comfort break”, but I cruelly made her accompany me round the delights of B & M Bargains,”
My many years of married bliss (hah!) concludes that you should really look into getting your man cave thingy up to scratch.
“Didn’t Cains make Faxe before the Dusanjis ruined Liverpool’s finest ?”
Good lord. I can get Faxe over here.
(not that I’d buy it)
“If that doesn’t put you off Belgian beer I don’t know what will.”
According to my brother, who lives in northern France, Leffe is an acquired taste… which he has. 🙂
Cheers
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“Capperchino” is how they pronounce Latte in Sheffield.
Oh, go on, buy Faxe and give us a review.
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I live in a place which is fixated by Vikings, but I’ve never heard of Faxe.
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“Oh, go on, buy Faxe and give us a review.”
After my first 20 day stint in camp (no alcohol allowed) I may just do that. 😉
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Latte is how they pronounce caffellatte in the US.
If you ask for latte in Rome – like my workmate did – then you may well get a glass of milk, as she did.
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I suddenly find myself desperately wanting to try a Fred Funk’s Pork Sandwich!
My friend in Macclesfield is a big fan of Belgian beers, and I confess he’s made me an admirer as well. British ales will always be my most preferred, but when those aren’t available (which is all too often over here) I turn to whatever Beligian-style ale they’ve got as a next best option.
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My mother used to have bread-and-dripping in the 60s – I always thought it was traditional in Lancashire where we lived. My father hated it though so the rest of the family weren’t obliged to eat it – and didn’t.
I tried Faxe years ago in Denmark but don’t recall it as anything special, although I did also try the Stout and I think that was much better. I haven’t been to Denmark for years so can’t say if you can still find it. There was a Danish counterpart of CAMRA that might have more information.
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The Danish counterpart of CAMRA are too busy arguing over whether Mikkeller is better than Cloudwater.
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Mikkeller is probably more expensive than Cloudwater, but whether it’s better is open to debate.
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Duncan (Pubmeister) knows someone (Rikke) who’ll have an opinion on that !
I went to the main Mikkeller bar in Copenhagen and it was a stunning experience.
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It would be for your wallet…
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They do a FAXE 10 in my local B&M which is (of course) 10% ABV. Perhaps they only sell it in Skipton. Never tried it, I don’t think it would be looked on with favour by Mrs MadProf….
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That would definitely looked on with favour by Mrs RM !
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wallpaper stripping the hall stairs and landing and painting it all, including the ceilings, all 5′ 0″” of me. Once I’m doneI think that certainly sounds like a prize!
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But best once I’ve finished or I might fall off the ladder!
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I believe match day was an ancient custom from many years ago when people were allowed to drink alcohol inside and there as a quaint league called the Premier League
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No, doesn’t ring a bell.
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