My third Charnwood pub of the day had the best beer and is the hardest to write about. Yes, it’s a brewery tap.
Not quite on an industrial estate, tucked away in the southern half of Loughborough, well clear of studentz in the sort of location enjoyed by the Falstaff or the Free Trade.
I setd my crack team of blog title writers a poser;
come up with a title based on “Loughborough”. As you see from my reaction, they failed.
Anyhow, Moonface has loads of naff possibilities.
And it’s easy to find. If you reach the inspirational mural commemorating Johnnie Johnson you’ve gone too far.
At the entrance to Moonface you’re faced with a barrier to entry and a wall full of instructions to “Sign in”, “Stay alert” and “Drink Burton Extra”, all Covid requirements.
The Guvnor shouts something at me from the bar which after a second attempt turns out to be “Takeaway or coming in”.
I take the last table in the single room packed with folk across the ages, and eavesdrop on what appears to be a meeting of Nanpantan & Quorn Sub-branch of CAMRA, one of whom is recalling their 5 pints of Everards Old Original at the White Hart after joining the Campaign in 1979 (the year punk broke, Simon).
It’s easy to forget that once upon a time people joined CAMRA because they liked drinking large quantities of real ale.
The real ale here was wonderful, and you know my take on homebrew. Cool, chewy, a lasting taste that seemed familiar but I couldn’t place it (NBSS 4, beer of the month).
Whether really great beer is enough to tempt you to sit on a beer barrel is a matter of personal choice.
I’d have nipped back to the county town on the train to finish Leicestershire’s GBG entries in Queen’s Road, but I reckoned I’d have just overdone it in that Ale Wagon place where I always come to grief, so let’s save it, eh ?