You probably think my blog aspires to be BRAPA but lacks the qualities you need to get kicked out of pubs for being a bloke. Actually, I want to be Blackpool Jane, where beer comes second to niche museums, Sally Army bands and great British food.
On Tuesday night before the match (for any Leeds fans, the 7-0 one), I dropped in to make a booking with Matt at his barbers in Albert Square. The fact he’s doing a useful job, unlike his dad, gives me great pride.
I wasn’t up for a big session, or tea, so Cafe Beermoth was just the ticket. It’s tucked in that lovely muddle of just north of the City Arms, a muddle of graffiti and alleyways and bijou hotels, and even the odd I’ve never seen before.
What’s the Town Hall Tavern like, anyone ?
Most people know what the Beermoth is like, though like Port Street and Cask and the Blackjacks it’s not a place I go in often.
Perhaps I should, particularly if they have live music from blokes with woolly hats.
I always get a little lost in places with those electronic beer boards, and ended up with something hazy and cool. Craft beers are very distinctive so one of you will be able to identify it.
Oh, here’s a clue. Pom*na.
I like the mixed crown Beermoths attracts; couple, suits, beer boys, old loners. Never seen anyone eat there, so I had a cheese platter which they recommend you allow to settle at room temperature for 20 minutes before scoffing.
TWENTY (20) MINUTES !
Well, I’ll need another drink while I’m waiting, so had the Squ*wk Imperial Stout, which didn’t really follow the keg fizz but don’t expect cask/keg matching advice from me.
Lovely. Unlike Leeds performance an hour later.