How to run a gastro-pub / how not to run a pub

Pub 14. The Prince Albert, 23rd December 2011.

Why have a Google and take pics yourself?




I've always quite liked this pub, and always wanted to too. Saved from the brink of closure thankfully (the exterior tiles are gorgeous), it's not too bad a gaff as gastropubs go. Four ales on, which seem to change a lot - although on this occasion consisted of 2 porters and 2 bitters. Not quite something for everyone! I chopped and changed between the Truman's Runner and some Fuller's brew, best bitter I think. The Camra discount they offer always raises eye-brows, but is always given making for £2.95 a pint. Not bad. And a pleasant evening ensued. Until it happened...


The chairs go up, people go out.

About 10.20pm they rang for last orders - how peculiar we thought. But then told us they were closing early because they weren't very busy. ????. Oh for the old licensing laws! Then they started putting chairs on the tables around us. I think we, and another couple of people - who may have just left - were the only people in. Then, about 10.30pm, they came over and asked us if we wanted anymore drinks, they weren't closing yet but just didn't want anyone else coming in as they were quiet. When people started putting chairs on the tables around you it's quite clear they don't want to be there and they don't want to be there either. (Apart from when you know you're getting a lock-in of course...) Now call me a scoundrelous-patriot or a xenosceptit if you like, but the 2 very pleasant barmaids were foreign (one of whom had spent a very boring looking evening 3hours or so, folding napkins in half), and so was the chap who I assume was the manager - all European but not quite sure where. I can't see a 'proper old British publican / landlady' doing such a thing.

Anyways, we upped and left for a more welcoming boozer. Thanks Prince Albert - your unintended rudeness means I won't be going in again. And to make me go off it more, the picture of a regal looking fellow on their chic website isn't even the Prince after whom the pub is named. (Unless I'm mistaken - answers on a postcard...)

I won't miss the pretentious lights - a result of their recent 'refurb'.

Goose is getting fat

Pub 13. The Crown and Goose, 21st December.


Firstly apologies for the awful photos, if you're at all concerned. I forgot my camera and so had to use a very crappy old mobile phone. I trust your enjoyment of this entry won't be comprimised. But then this is one of those annoying pubs where they think that's cool to be sitting in darkness.
I never really go in here an awful lot because I wasn't crazy about the two choices of ale they had - Adnam's and Adnam's Southwold. But on this occasion they had Adnam's Lighthouse (£3.20) instead of their Best, which is a bit more palatable.













It's an ok place, and Ben the boss is very pleasant fellow. But it does like to think that it's very cool. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, as it matches the clientele. This is the place to come if you're hip but so over the Hawley. Or perhaps if you'd like some food - I hear the nosh here is pretty good. Although ages ago when I had a Sunday roast here it was awful. The veg & Yorkshire pudding were spot on, but the beef was like chewing a dish-cloth. But having said that my mate finished it off no problem. And it was the first time they'd done roasts too, so valued our feedback. Nice Yorkshires I told him. On this occasion one chap who'd ordered the rabbit pie was visibly disappointed when he was told it was off, and who wouldn't be? Such a bunny-bake is a rarity in pubs in the borough.














The tables outside on the spacious pavement are lovely to watch the world come & go along Arlington Road. But that seems a long way off at the moment. Points for no fruit machine, and no jukebox - but the bar-staff controlled iPod music was very loud. A common complaint from me.
And that's about it. A nice pub, nothing wrong with it at all really - but I never really feel totally comfortable in there. Perhaps too dark? Too small? Too loud? Too few beers? I dunno. But I sure hope they don't knock it down which has been on the cards for years. They've already started on the snooker hall next door, but a notice has appeared from the Council which is all written in development-legalese mumbo-jumbo but I think is saying "don't knock this down". Or at least I hope so, Camden does not need another gastro-pub, which they shamelessy describe their plans as without a hint of irony - but it does need pubs like this.


The building formerly known as...

Pub 12. The Parr's Head. 10th December 2011.

Regular readers will know that in my quest I'm always looking for an excuse to visit a battle cruiser which I normally would have no cause to go to.
Our washing machine was on the blink this weekend, indeed it still is, and I had run out of smalls. The nearest laundrette is on Plender Steet, and so is the Parr's Head. Spendid I thought, I can pop in for a pint while my clothes are laundered a few doors down and have a peek round a formely unvisited pub. Off we go! But imagine my shock when I saw this...


Actually to my shame it turns out it closed in late October. I'm sure I've been past since then, maybe I haven't. But what a shame. One hundred and fifty year of continuous pub business gone. I've sure real ales were not high on the list of priorties (I could be wrong of course), but these are the real pubs that we should cherish. I'm sure there wasn't a single tourist seen in here for yonks. And is a reminder why such places are worth a quick peek at least - you never know when they're going to go. I think this is the first one to go since I started my adventure. How many more...? Maybe I should prioritise. Nah too much effort. I read on the internet it's destined for flats. Of course. And there were a few moist eyes when they rang the last last orders. I bet.

The Parr does not have a head for apostophes.
On returning from the laundrette I was greeted with a rather lovely sunset, signalling the end of another honest no-frills locals' boozer. (Which actaully ended some 6 weeks ago...) I thought this would make a nice photo, laden with meaning and metaphor. A young chap stood by me said "I was just thinking the same thing mate", and we briefly commented on the loveliness of the view. I was actually thinking "What a shame a grotty old pub I'd never been in has closed down. And I hope my washing machine is fixed soon." I bet we weren't thinking the same thing at all.

Plender Street Sunset la la laaa

Camden Brouhaha

Pub 11. Camden BrewDog, 10th December 2011.

Tanks a lot
After the old glory days of the Laurel Tree I'd heard so much about it's been a shame that this building has been empty for so long apart from such ill-judged ventures as a sushi place and an Italian (read: pizza) restuarant. Needless to say this part of Camden isn't short of trendy little eateries, so neither of them lasted long. And then along come BrewDog - whom I'm assuming you dear reader are already familiar with and the opinions people have about them. But any running pub is better than a closed pub, so well done them.
I had heard word that they were going to be opening tonight, so on my way home from a midday visit to Sainsbury's I strolled past laden with bulging oranginess to check out what time they might be opening. But hello! What's this? They looked open already - people standing outside. These people turned out to be bouncers, or doormen or customer liason operatives or whatever they call themselves. But bouncers at 12.30pm?? But very polite they were and the door was opened for me, also making the decision for me whether to go in or not.

Bar-ren
No place for a session!

BrewDog say of themselves "We are not cool. We are not pretentious. We just care. And we are your friends". ("Beer for punks"...?) I must say that my first impression was that the first 2 statements are quite wrong. The barmaid who was busy cleaning something at the bar did that thing whereby they think they can communicate "Hello there - what would you like to drink today?" just by looking at you. To me it appeared that she was just looking at me. So what am I supposed to do? But she was very nice and explained that she was quite capable of serving me as she can multi-task. She cared but I'm not sure if we're actually friends yet. I got myself a pint of Zeitgeist for £3.50, at 4.9% it was the lowest ABV on draft. Cripes, I'd only just had breakfast! This turned out to be a black lager, but very nice it was too.
Better say now if you're not aware, that all BrewDog's beers are keg. Craft indeed and although they say "No Tennents. No Carling. No Smirnoff." which is of course a good thing, I do like a hand-drawn pint. I reckon tha they're not doing their craft beers justice by serving them cold and fizzy. Another claim they make is "No Televisions" and I'm sure I heard music in there either. Two hurrahs! They're also careful it seems not to call their outlets "pubs", always "bars" - which I approve of, given the nature of the gaff. Despite the title of this weblog.
At this point I spotted two mates whom I'd not seen for ages, and had been attracted by the PR tank outside. Yup, park a tank outside a pub (oops - bar!) and it's guaranteed to attract at least two people. So I was chatting to them, and forgot to take anymore photos, so nipped back later - about 4pm to snap a couple more.

Upstairs
Downstairs















And I couldn't believe how busy it was! Very crowded, loud with mirthful chit-chat and the condensation was streaming down the windows. All very nice, and friendly. I'm sure it'll be popular with the young 'uns, but I like my ale served the ale-way. I think they'll do well, and I do hope so, but I myself won't be rushing back. I prefer a pub to a bar.

Toilet humour

A load of Boulogne

Pub 10. The Bull and Gate, 3rd December 2011.


Pic robbed off Google.


I often walk past here on my way up to another place across the road, and often peak in to wonder at the splendour within, ignoring the strares of the scruffy old locals smoking outside. And even by Kentish Town's high standards the interior and indeed the exterior are a pretty splendid, Victorian gin-palace loveliness but without going too OTT. Built I think in 1850 it has to be one of oldest original pubs certainly in this part of the borough.And surely it must be listed? Apparently it used to be called the Boulogne Gate, but I can't see that myself. It was certainly a lot more rural round here than French and Bull & Gate is such a common name anyways it sounds much more likely. But if you know different...
I had planned to meet a friend here who was going to a gig at the Forum just the up the road, and it's always handy to visit a pub I wouldn't normally go in - for no real reason having said that. The last time I went in we were a bit nonplussed by lighting, I think we decided it was too bright. That was certainly the worst thing about it on this visit. And that's too bad a thing anyways.
Friendly bar staff, proper landlord and landlady who are prepared to do the work themselves and dress up smartly too, the longest serving in Camden I believe. Not a huge place but spacious and lots of seating that all seems to be out of the way of the other seats. A pleasant pint or 2 of Pride at £3.80 (I think... i wrote it down somewhere as i'd had a long day already - will have to go and check and revise if need be!).

Well, my friend never turned up but I bumped into another pal which was nice. And the black-donned big-booted long-haired people who were all off to the gig were all quite pleasant too. And even if not I could have entertained myself studying a large version of thingy's lovely old panorama of Kentish Town.
Everything is right about here but there again it felt like it was missing something, but I'm blown if I think what. I think maybe it would have been nicer if I'd been sat up the other end - see top right pic. I believe it's up for sale, and I do hope that the Lynskeys get a good price - they deserve it. But also that the new owners don't change a thing! Dimmer lighting and a few more ales perhaps?


Nice bar
Nice inside

Nice pagan imagery

Nice staining in the toilet
Nice ceiling and candles
Nice people





Nice carpeted heating vents


The worst London Pub of all??

Pub 9. London Pub, 1st December, 2011.


It's a pub (of sorts), and it's in London.


I approached this place with much caution, trepidation, and even a little excitement and a soupçon of curiousity.
I'm still confused as to whose idea this place was and what made them think of the name, and I was genuinely expecting to the be the worst pub I had ever been in, in London or without. So let's go in.

Yup, that's London.

Abandon all hope, all who enter here?



















It's a huge big empty place, but not as awful as I was expecting. Although I'm not too sure what I was expecting, only for it to be really really bad. My first surprise was the sight of two hand-pumps huddling together towards one end of the lengthy bendy bar. Greene King IPA & Abbot Ale. It still being just past tea time I opted for the IPA, and was convinced it was going to be a rotten pint. I mean, for £2.80 how good could it be?? But it was fine. As fine as Green King IPA can get. And what a bargain. The Abbot Ale was a full English quid more though.


As I sipped and looked around my second surprise - this place wasn't too bad. The NME TV music on the tellies wasn't too loud, and the atmosphere wasn't as horrible as I thought it might be. It was very quiet, a group of lads in one corner and a couple of solo drinkers and that was that.







But I think that the pub is serving its purpose perfectly well. It's not for signed-up Camra members, or people interested in wonderful historic pub interiors. For tourists, pub-crawls or Wetherspoons fans I'm sure this pub would do just fine. It actually reminded me a bit of a students union, or one of those pubs that live in 70s shopping centres. So maybe students and shoppers might like it too. And for £2.80 a pint why not?




I didn't want to hang about, but not because it's uncomfortable to scary - I'm sure there's some 'flat roofed pubs' to come that will meet that description, but I just would rather be somewhere else. But having said that, now it's ticked off the list there's really no need to go back there. Unless it's your first trip to London and this is the place you see after a long coach journey... and you don't mind dropped definite articles.

London Beer Garden

Hey Mabel - no label!

Pub 8. Mabel's Tavern (also known as Mabels Tavern). 1st December, 2011.

A warm looking welcome on a damp evening.

Ahh a pub with a made-up name! But I suppose they're all made up in a way. Anyways, apostrophe usage is either wrong or right, even though here they offer a choice. But never mind. Let's go to Mabel's Tavern - I'm going for the +apostrophe option. Very nice and warm and cosy it is. Lots of post-work drinking going on, and I assume what are early Christmas dos. Nowt wrong with that - not a locals' pub though from what I can initially ascertain, but nothing wrong with that either. To the bar. I'm not particularly overly familiar with Shepherd Neame, I think the only place of theirs I go in with anything approaching regularity is the Betsy Trotwood. I do like their pump clips, they are how pump clips should be. Big, and solid and shiny and ceramic looking and GOLD! But they also seem to have 3 different names on them... confusing to the casual drinker, like myself.

"They're all Kentish Ales", durr.

So opting for the lowest abv I go for ummmm Master Brew/Kentish Ale/Local Hero at 3.6%. Now Master Brew doesn't sound like a beer to me, it sounds like a 70s-keg era name for a beer, but Kentish Ale sounds like a proper name for a standard session beer from Kent. Although I should have deduced from the other pumps that the big letters in the middle are the name of beer, but also none of the others say 'Kentish Ale' on them either so I ask for "a pint of Kentish Ale, please." "Which one? They're all Kentish Ales" says uniformed barmaid, with a hint of strop which might only have been my perception. "The one that says 'Kentish Ale' on it" I say pointing humourlessly to pump 2. When barstaff where uniforms it makes the whole place seem like a shop, rather than a pub. Anyways, I got my beer after handing over a hefty £3.80. The barmaid was perfectly pleasant though, well at least as pleasant as you'd expect.

Mable's apostrophe
Pump action














Other than that there's not a lot to say about this place. Very nice. Warm and busy, full of chat. The jukebox/music player device playing generic pop turned right down - always nice. But there again why bother? A choice of 3 tellies provide BBC and Sky News, just in case that's what you want to go in a pub for. A brief chat with another punter about people putting cola-pop-beverages in scotch - even poor old Bell's, on which we both agreed whole heartedly. The barmaid didn't proffer any opinion.
A quick look round at the rather nice olde-railway pictures on the walls, and a read of the history of the pub. Tourists love a ghost story, and how many pubs can claim to be haunted by a mechanical device?? This one can, and by Mabel too of course.

The most interesting thing about here though is that it is where the RAF Escaping Society Museum was founded in the1960s, and was full of WWII POW escape memorabilia. It was even called The Escape, up until the late 1970s when it closed due to lack of interest from the local student population and all the items were shipped down to Devon.

Read all about it
Christmas spirit via two tellies.
A very nice pub, nothing wrong it but I won't be rushing back. It just seems to lacking that certain j'en c'est quoi. (or jen cest Quo if youd rather).