Watch the wet floor, flower

That’s the first thing I hear on entering the new Oldham GBG pub, the first for a decade, in mighty Tommyfield Market.

I’ve been called petal, but never blossom. There’s still time.

A market micro. Blimey, you could be in Lancashire*.

Specifically, you could be in the wondrous Bob in Chorley. The Cob & Coal is THAT good, but then Tandleman has been telling us so for ages now.

Pubs are rarely about the beer, even if the guvnor (what’s female for guvnor?) knows their beer.

It’s not yet 11:00, a civilised hour for drinking, and the lads are settling in to discuss life.

Actually, most of the discussions is about plants, but not the plants on the tables. Bob Marley sang “Is This Love”, which seemed to fit.

That one’s gone, flower

I don’t like choices, but luckily the first bloke had just picked the Pictish so I followed him.

“Are you CAMRA?”

“Er, yes, but not like those weird local CAMRAs who just want cheap beer“.

“£2.80 then”. OK then.

It were great, as they say in Flowery Fields. Cool, crisp and chewy. NBSS 3.5 +

With a roaring fire should temperatures drop by 20 degrees, I could have stayed all day.

But I needed curry, and Lucknow Junction had stuck their ad on every entrance to Tommyfield, with a sign saying “we’re next to the pub”.

But which pub?

I spent ages staring at coloured signs,

and in despair even thought of giving up and going muffin.

But then realised, sheepishly, that Lucknow was next door to Cob & Coal all along and I’d walked past 3 times. Blooming micro curry houses.

This was cheap, homely and terrific, just like Oldham.

Those fritters are aubergine, not black pudding, by the way.

Proper food, proper pub, proper town.

*Irony intended

3 thoughts on “COB & COAL. AND MUFFINS.

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