Think of this as a short bonus post on a day when other news may take your attention from my blog. (Congratulations Carrie and Boris).
On Sunday I became the first person ever (ever) to visit Cheadle, Staffs four (4) times in a calendar year. Even Mrs RM said “Cheadle? Not again !” and she missed half those trips.
Twice to tick GBG entries, once to find the Bakers Arms unexpectedly closed, and of course once to recover Mrs RMs coat. #hero
The latest trip saw me nip in an unexpectedly open Eastern European bakery for a salt heavy feta and spinach pastry, and be second through the door in the Bakers.
It’s a smart little place that wouldn’t feel out of place in t’other Cheadle, and if the main trade seemed to be Carling rather than cask then that’s no problem.
Actually, the cask was “OK”. And I mean that in the strict CAMRA definition of the word.
But I’m afraid my take home from Cheadle was the manner I was asked what I wanted as I was still walking to the bar.
If you always drink Carling, that’s no problem. But even the most unfussy cask drinker in the world (that’s me) is entitled to 1 second staring at 3 pumps to make sure they’re not ordering a 10% Bbarley wine, surely ?