That should have been that, but I had this nagging need to find a recommendable pub in central Nottingham., which has looked a bit bare of GBG entries in the last decade (specifically, since Greene King became persona non grata with local CAMRAs).
Back in the day, my main job in the NHS seemed to be as the person folk turned to for a pub pick.
I remember my old boss standing in Nottingham’s Market Square during panto season and phoning up for a recommendation.
“It’s behind you” I said, guessing the Bell was a better bet than a micro in Arnold.
Wandering aimlessly from Hockley to the Christmas tree, I didn’t see an obvious candidate. One group of four gentlefolk headed for the Brew Dog, the only customers. Nottingham rushed around, carrying cardboard.
I would have gone to one of the GBG pubs dotted round the edge, but many of them (notably the Crafty Crow) didn’t open till 4. Pubs not open till late afternoon in big cities is a worrying trend.
I phoned a friend. Well, I texted Will, anyway.
“The Lord Roberts” he replied, confidently.
It wasn’t behind me, quite, but I was there in 90 seconds.
A smart looking inter-war pub with theatre theme, it seems to pick up the “Everyman” trade in a way few pubs (except Spoons) do these days.
Pashmina people, sportswear people, shopping people, Prosecco people, Dog people. Much busier than the Brew Dog.
The cask offer is low-key, put Pedi is rare enough in the centre.
Lots of solid seating options, so I pick the one where I can see most people at the same time. It’s What Simon Would Do.
Another pub with R’n’B rather than ’80s pop. It’s either/or these days.
The bloke opposite attempts conversation with his disinterested wife.
“That weren’t bad, that Newcastle game last night, were it ?”.
The Pedi wasn’t bad, but it started as a 3 and drifted to a 2.5, something to do with the gravitational pull of the Trent I expect.
But I liked it, Will, I really did. Though the much vaunted “Naughty Corner” was a bit of a let-down.