December 2023. King’s Heath. Birmingham.
The first tick of the day is always the hardest, and from Boldmere I was able to catch a train directly (“dreckly” as they say in the Fens) to the second.
But first at Chester Road I had that joy of suburban Brum stations,
folk having long, unintelligible conversations about relatives across the train line.
And on the train, my notes record,
“emily says spageddi juncshun
Mummy don’t talk like that
Where’s moi tkt
Old it saife or they won’t let you off the train and you’ll be stuck here forever
Oi need a wee“
Today’s Brum trip seemed a repeat of July. Start in Sutton Coldfield, head straight down to Cadburyland, wonder where you were.
But while in the summer Bournville brought brewery tap opening hours irritation, I knew I’d have no such problems a stop further down at King’s Norton.
I don’t think I’d ever been to King’s Norton before. Ever.
It’s a bit drab, a bit Stevenage to Bourneville’s Knebworth if you like.
But the churchyard has a few timbered gems reminiscent of Knowle which allow me to impress Life After Football with my Brummy knowledge.
My Spoons is a noble building in its way,
packed with local flavours,
and this map of Brum micros from 1768.
It’s packed. Which is odd, because all the comments on Twitter deriding Tim’s knighthood tell me Spoons is a failing business while the evidence of my eye says otherwise.
Somehow I resist the sticky toffee pudding starter and head straight for the beef Madras with “all the trimmings”.
Look, I’d have preferred something from the “Desi Pubs” guide, but life has told me to eat when drinking. And I have too often ignored life’s lessons.
A Spoons curry is OK, the calories will last you till next Tuesday, and a free pint of OK Bishops Finger makes eating out affordable for pensioners, as well as families and students.
And there is something blissful about being the first one to use a new jar of mango chutney.
retiredmartin 
I feel the same about a new jar of Marmite. It seems a shame to violate that smooth sheen of yeasty goodness. But I do anyway.
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That’s not proper mango chutney without lumps of mango in it.
But the curry’ll be microwaved, not a proper one, so it might not matter.
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You are definitely the prosecution’s first witness when Spoons go on trial, Paul. Will is second.
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But I’m still traumatised by my nasty experience in Tim’s Wolverhampton venue just over four years ago.
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Love the noted conversation and recorded in perfect pukka Brumspeak!!!
Kings Norton has some nicer parts than you’d think but the arrival of spoons is a massive bonus.
Not only does it provide some rare cask in an area with estate pubs shutting regularly but it also provides drinkers somewhere to go and saved a pub that was already there….
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I lived in Cotteridge when I was at University in Birmingham in the late 70s, although we tended to call it King’s Norton as it sounded a bit posher.
Never made it into the Navigation, though, which was a Davenports pub back then.
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And Peter Allen lived in Stirchley just up the well. Actually, Stirchley seemed a lot more interesting than any of the south and western Brum suburbs.
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Another post I can really relate to Martin, Mrs TM hails from Kings Heath and we pass this pub on route to her Mum’s. You’ve inspired me to pay it a visit rather than sticking to the, admittedly excellent, Red Lion.
Are you aware Birmingham City’s permanent training ground (it’s under redevelopment following a fire) Wast Hills is based nearby? Rumour has it that footballs from sliced clearances by full backs from the early 1990s were found on the roof during the recent refurbishment by Wetherspoons !! Life After Football maybe able to confirm, or more than likely deny, this story !!
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