When I was drawn back to Ossett the other week for a first new tick in a decade I remembered with affection the local brewery tap in that town.
So I thought I’d go back and find it.
I might need a third visit to do the Horse & Jockey, an ultra-rare OPEN Sam Smiths.
But which is the Tap ? Simon was confused on his visit this year, and there’s an actual place called THE Tap,
as well as the “Ossett Brewery Tap” in the actual brewery down by the river.
But it’s the Brewer’s Pride I always considered the tap. None of them in the Guide, oddly.
A classic West Riding multi-roomer; why’s it fallen out of favour (if it has) ?
It’s a 3pm opener these days, and with it being a mile out of town I wondered if custom was holding up.
“Allo Fred”. someone shouts.
Tere’s a queue at the door, and within 10 minutes there’s a dozen in midweek.
They’re not all here for the cask, mind.
The White Rat is top of the board so I have that, an imperfect but lovely, sherberty NBSS 3.
“Blimey, it’s warm in here” says a bloke in ripped shorts just back from Lanzarote.
And it is warm, the sort of warmth my octogenarian parents demand but which makes me take off layers.
I sit in the corner and admire the brass.
“Norwegian Wood” gives way to the first bars of “I Don’t Like Mondays” which floors the Old Boys for a second.
“The most recognisable opening notes in musical history” I suggest.
A younger bloke sings “No reason……..no reason” and the talk turns to Saint Bob.
“He was a Remainer” laments the Oldest Boy. “They (politicians) ALL are“
I tried to convince him that the Prime Minister (the ACTUALPrime Minister) was a Leaver, but he wasn’t having it.
“That’s enough politics” shouts someone, and the discussion turns, as all things must, to cavity insulation*.
“Your cavity’s there for a reason” seems to be the conclusion, and I can agree with that.
A great pub, but perhaps not the ale shrine it once was. But that’s OK.
*I have literally no idea what cavity insulation is.