Sheffield has made Time Out’s list of “city breaks you must do before the next variant” or whatever.
Clearly this simply reflects my own move a year ago, and if I move again in 2022 you can expect Carluke to make that list.
No mention of Sheffield’s pubs in Time Out, which is rather like recommending a trip to Liverpool and not mentioning the “attack a visiting team coach” free activity.
What better sight is there in a pub on a winter’s day than a plasma screen displaying a real fire ?
This one is very much the community pub for the upmarket area bordering the string of parks out west, with support for the world’s oldest football club much in evidence.
We arrived straight from church across the road at 11:45 on Sunday, surprised to find it open, relieved to get a table for lunch, and disconcerted to see a string of handpumps in a dining pub. Thornbridge is the Black Country Ales of the Peaks, desperate to show off its shiny range of excellent beers and sometimes seeming to overreach a bit.
But not here.
Jaipur for the lady, a new Dark Mild for me, casual sexism in action.
Instantly I can tell they’re good. Better than good, clean and crisp, NBSS 3.5+ stuff. Blimey.
We get the nice window seat so we can observe the joy of a family Christmas meal opposite, and Mrs RM gets a bit misty eyed as the Grandparents coo and fuss over their grandchildren before Mum and Dad arrive.
A classic Christmas soundtrack at just the right volume, though sadly no “Stop the Cavalry” so we can assume Old Mudgie won’t be heading here any time soon.
The Stag’s is a classy, unfussy pub with an unfussy menu, even in Christmas month.
Observe the size of that Yorkie, but also observe Mrs RM’s nearly drained Jaipur glass.
“Another Jaipur please” she asks, and gets.
And she gets a mulled wine outside Peaks Sports Bar as the Sharrow Vale Christmas market makes us feel unusually festive.
No, only joking.