You left me urging my in-laws forward to the front door of the Fat Cat, the busiest pub in Sheffield whenever I visit.
This is the pub where I met 3 legends of the pub world in 2017, and I was keen to bag the cosy room on the left for the in-laws to show them what Kelham was all about.
Frustratingly, we were 7th-9th in the queue at 12:02, but the other folk all wanted the garden. Ha !
So the best room was ours, all ours ! The in-laws seemed unimpressed.
I’m not sure if this is a feature of all Old People but they were quite happy for me to order for them without questions. None of that “What hops are in the C-Bomb ?” or “Is the steak vegan ?” nonsense.
Just 3 steak pies, 3 pints of Pale Rider, please.
See, women DO drink pints*.
They seemed to love the Fat Cat’s signature beer (a cool, crisp NBSS 3.5+), and their signature dish, anyway, and my notes reflect a fascination with Northern accents and Barbara Windsor, presumably unrelated.
It was wonderful(and cheap); so good we stayed for a Jarl (not THAT one) and one each of the puddings, all from the Old School cookbook.
Mrs RM joined us about 13:30 for a pint and a bag of crisps after something called work, and looked jealously at our empty plates.
Sheffield and the Fat Cat, you did the Southerners proud.
*Is this a contender for my PubMan of 2021, RIGHT HERE ?