March 2026. Sheffield and the Peak.
Last weekend we “hosted” (ugh) Meighan and Dave from Chicago during their whirlwind tour of Europe. I have never seen Mrs RM go into such a cleaning frenzy, which sadly extended to getting me to mow the lawn. What happened to the wild garden craze ?
I knew nothing about Meighan and Dave before meeting them at Sheffield Station, and was delighted to find they were more interested in asking about Wetherspoons and “service” and trams than inane questions about jobs and the like. They were absolutely great company, but then I’ve never met an American I didn’t like.
Mrs RM had big plans for a “curated survey” of Kelham pubs on that Saturday, but it seems that a night in Covent Garden on Friday,
had left them in need of a more pastoral afternoon.
20 minutes from RM Towers you’re in the Peak District, and I reckoned Winnats Pass would impress Americans.
It did. Castleton felt more like a village than a tourist honeypot at 5 o’clock, and we managed a walk to the Devil’s Arse before deciding on a pub,
though the GBG George was, again, a bit too foody for me.
If it was your first pub visting England you’d think “Aren’t Brits nice giving up seats so we can sit by the fire” and “Why isn’t the beer fizzy ?” and “Does everyone have a dog ?“.
We’d booked (ugh) tea at the equally dog-friendly Old Horns in Bradfield,
a Thwaites house we’d never been to but seemed to be regarded as one of Sheffield’s destination dining pubs.
So it was a bit surprising to find FA Cup football on the telly,
an unfussy bar,
and a huge menu of pub grub.
A huge and largely unreadable menu, small white letters on blue we could only interpret by taking and enlarging photos.
And when it came, the meals were on the Texan side of large, more Hungry Horse than Brunning & Price.
But…Dave’s steak and black pudding pie was exactly what he wanted, and I somehow finished Mrs RM’s superb liver and onions after that whale of a fish.
Sadly, as DES for the day, I could only adnire her Thwaites from a distance.
retiredmartin 