retiredmartin

Parked up at our “Boutique” Bed & Breakfast, it was time to explore Sunderland.

There’s a lot of dead pub here,

but we’re off to a live one, an actual new GBG entry in the heart of the city.

I can’t believe I’d never been in the Peacock (or its Londonderry predecessor); I love a wedge pub. There aren’t that many real ale pubs in central Sunderland compared to Newcastle.

The exterior screams “student central“, and it’s the sort of place you can imagine a 19 year old BRAPA drinking Holsten Pils and Vaux (same glass, dash of Tabasco sauce) in 1998, but the students have gone wherever students go in July (Seaton Carew ?), and it’s a bit deserted.

You’ll never forget you’re in Mackem land, mind.

The soundtrack is resolutely ’70s. Bowie, The Kinks, this classic;

and at the bar a selection of Maxim’s finest.

That Landlord is ubiquitous, isn’t it. Bet you it’s the UK’s top selling cask by 2026.

Simon wrote “The Lambton drinks better than Lambton ever did in the late 90’s“, and both the Double Maxim and Mrs RM’s Pick’n’Mix were solidly (and unexpectedly with so little trade) NBSS 3.5+, cool and chewy.

But it was the food that amazed. I know Simon thinks that eating’s cheating, particularly as a Sunderland student in the late 90s, but this bargain soup and sandwich combo (NS&SSS 5) was one of the best lunches I’ve ever had. And I’ve just come back from Albania.

The staff were just as good, smiley and chatty; the young chef came out to say hello, and suddenly at 2pm the place started to fill up a bit with gentlefolk,

and blokes with Hull City socks.

We stayed for a second unwise pint of the Pick’n’Mix, admired the lacings,

and wondered if we might just sit here all afternoon listening to ’70s classics.

But a blogger cannot just sit still. We had work to do. Mainly involving fish.