I'm pregnant with beer and pie's baby!!!
Actually I'm not but that thought came to me last night and it was too good to waste. But if I was, it'd be a healthy pie. Damn.
Well, back in between the shafts; back at the fun factory after three moochilicious weeks off mooching; the funbuggy's got about another thousand miles on the clock and the cat's still speaking to me after I temporarily infested his house with that evil energetic entity called "kitten". Been playing genial host here at Fortress Shadey for a few days, and they that were hosted came with a small playful black thing called Tab in tow, almost a min-Giz. Did they get on? Well, Tab's still alive. Giz in fairness was a gentleman, he played dutiful host to a small mad thing that only wanted to chase and pounce all day, when he is in fact WAY too cool for such things with only minimal poor grace and an occasional smack in the chops given out.
Been out west for a few days.... if anybody actually has ever BEEN to Chester, would they tell me what it's like? Coz there's a certain amount of one way system driving involved around the place which doesn't seem to involve actually finding car parking, just lots of burning of fuel which when the fuel light's lit, isn't really good news, and that's from someone who's already had the mile walk to the petrol station and back with a can once this week. They don't design their airfields to be found either, hiding them under about four different names and not signposting them, and causing my quest for something tasty to eat that's not going to kill me to end up in a damned Subway in some place near New Brighton, when I never much liked the original Brighton in the first place. Found a couple of decent pubs in Scouse though, and even got to keep my hubcaps.
If you're in that neck of the woods, you've got to hunt out the Philharmonic; town centre pub crowd which may be a bit dull, but the beer's really decent and it's an architectural wonder. It's on CAMRA's national inventory and here's what they say....
"Quite simply this is the most spectacular pub in England - indeed,?throughout the whole of the UK it is only matched by the Crown in Belfast. It was rebuilt in 1898-1900 to designs by Walter Thomas (see also the rather later Vines) for Liverpool brewer, Robert Cain. Thomas and Cain?went on to build the other prodigy pub of central Liverpool, the Vines. Craftsmen and artists from the then University Department of Architecture & Applied Art worked on it under the superintendence of G. Hall Neale and Arthur Stratton. The exterior is a freely-treated Tudor style with all sorts of odd details. The stunning thing about it are the entrance gates to Hope Street; they are an amazing display of Art Nouveau metalwork by H. Bloomfield Bare. The interior, which is what everyone comes to experience, has an unusual, complex plan. There is a relatively small front bar parallel to Hardman Street and behind this what is effectively a much enlarged drinking lobby in front of a bar counter encrusted with mosaic. The floor is also mosaic. Behind this are a pair of rooms - one a smoke room, the other a news room (they are now rather stupidly called Brahms and Liszt): the news room has stained glass depicting St Cecilia, patroness of music, and the inscription 'Music is the Universal Language of Mankind'. A corridor between these two rooms leads back to a cavernous hall built as a billiard room. It has copper panels by H. Bloomfield Bare and Thomas Huson; the roof lights have stained glass. The sheer scale and richness of decoration attest to the importance that billiards had in end-of-the-nineteenth-century pubs (see also the Vines). As elsewhere in the pub there is superb mahogany joinery. The gents' loos are all part of the essential sightseeing with mosaic flooring and marbled stalls and luxurious washbasins. "
Mike say's "a pint of Brain's Reverand James, and Theakson's Paradise. Can't be bad. Bugger me, this art deco stuff ain't bad either, must come back when it's daylight". Saves on key strokes, more time for drinking.
Also a pint of Swans "Sharps French Resistance" in the Swan; and Biddenden's cider in the Cracke which normally makes for a dreadful morning. CAMRA like this place, it's been about since the Boer war and is pretty unpretentious. There was more beer had in here but I'm damned if I can remember what it was, other than dark and tasty. Then the hassle of travelling back avoiding the kebab shops, as I'm not allowed those anymore as they've got flavour, and onwards.
The east coast beckoned; defeat at Rugby, incredible amounts of Australian lager consumed (once again a bad idea), amounts of certain cocktails consumed (not much better in the idea stakes really), a certain amount of stylish brokeness but ended up with Italian for supper, attempting to suss the wheat from the chaff in the healthy eating stakes. A certain amount of mooching about and a pint in the world's smallest pub later, followed by healthy curry.
This health kick will be the death of me.
Well, back in between the shafts; back at the fun factory after three moochilicious weeks off mooching; the funbuggy's got about another thousand miles on the clock and the cat's still speaking to me after I temporarily infested his house with that evil energetic entity called "kitten". Been playing genial host here at Fortress Shadey for a few days, and they that were hosted came with a small playful black thing called Tab in tow, almost a min-Giz. Did they get on? Well, Tab's still alive. Giz in fairness was a gentleman, he played dutiful host to a small mad thing that only wanted to chase and pounce all day, when he is in fact WAY too cool for such things with only minimal poor grace and an occasional smack in the chops given out.
Been out west for a few days.... if anybody actually has ever BEEN to Chester, would they tell me what it's like? Coz there's a certain amount of one way system driving involved around the place which doesn't seem to involve actually finding car parking, just lots of burning of fuel which when the fuel light's lit, isn't really good news, and that's from someone who's already had the mile walk to the petrol station and back with a can once this week. They don't design their airfields to be found either, hiding them under about four different names and not signposting them, and causing my quest for something tasty to eat that's not going to kill me to end up in a damned Subway in some place near New Brighton, when I never much liked the original Brighton in the first place. Found a couple of decent pubs in Scouse though, and even got to keep my hubcaps.
If you're in that neck of the woods, you've got to hunt out the Philharmonic; town centre pub crowd which may be a bit dull, but the beer's really decent and it's an architectural wonder. It's on CAMRA's national inventory and here's what they say....
"Quite simply this is the most spectacular pub in England - indeed,?throughout the whole of the UK it is only matched by the Crown in Belfast. It was rebuilt in 1898-1900 to designs by Walter Thomas (see also the rather later Vines) for Liverpool brewer, Robert Cain. Thomas and Cain?went on to build the other prodigy pub of central Liverpool, the Vines. Craftsmen and artists from the then University Department of Architecture & Applied Art worked on it under the superintendence of G. Hall Neale and Arthur Stratton. The exterior is a freely-treated Tudor style with all sorts of odd details. The stunning thing about it are the entrance gates to Hope Street; they are an amazing display of Art Nouveau metalwork by H. Bloomfield Bare. The interior, which is what everyone comes to experience, has an unusual, complex plan. There is a relatively small front bar parallel to Hardman Street and behind this what is effectively a much enlarged drinking lobby in front of a bar counter encrusted with mosaic. The floor is also mosaic. Behind this are a pair of rooms - one a smoke room, the other a news room (they are now rather stupidly called Brahms and Liszt): the news room has stained glass depicting St Cecilia, patroness of music, and the inscription 'Music is the Universal Language of Mankind'. A corridor between these two rooms leads back to a cavernous hall built as a billiard room. It has copper panels by H. Bloomfield Bare and Thomas Huson; the roof lights have stained glass. The sheer scale and richness of decoration attest to the importance that billiards had in end-of-the-nineteenth-century pubs (see also the Vines). As elsewhere in the pub there is superb mahogany joinery. The gents' loos are all part of the essential sightseeing with mosaic flooring and marbled stalls and luxurious washbasins. "
Mike say's "a pint of Brain's Reverand James, and Theakson's Paradise. Can't be bad. Bugger me, this art deco stuff ain't bad either, must come back when it's daylight". Saves on key strokes, more time for drinking.
Also a pint of Swans "Sharps French Resistance" in the Swan; and Biddenden's cider in the Cracke which normally makes for a dreadful morning. CAMRA like this place, it's been about since the Boer war and is pretty unpretentious. There was more beer had in here but I'm damned if I can remember what it was, other than dark and tasty. Then the hassle of travelling back avoiding the kebab shops, as I'm not allowed those anymore as they've got flavour, and onwards.
The east coast beckoned; defeat at Rugby, incredible amounts of Australian lager consumed (once again a bad idea), amounts of certain cocktails consumed (not much better in the idea stakes really), a certain amount of stylish brokeness but ended up with Italian for supper, attempting to suss the wheat from the chaff in the healthy eating stakes. A certain amount of mooching about and a pint in the world's smallest pub later, followed by healthy curry.
This health kick will be the death of me.
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 10:43 am
1 Comments:
Always have a tofu and quorn chilli, nice and healthy. But not with the pints of DM to wash it down. Tabs is asleep claims Giz is a good guy but he's human is a bit nuts as he kept asking for hubcaps.
Post a Comment
<< Home