Apr 12 2020
Reminiscing. A Mid 80s Pub Crawl – Rochdale Road.
Like most people I know, I started drinking underage.
Memories of nursing two halves of Guinness, aged 14, at a Joy Division gig (08/04/1980 at Derby Hall, Bury), a sneaky (and squeakily ordered) half of Carlsberg at The Apsley Cottage pre my first ever gig (Damned, October 1979, Machine Gun Etiquette tour)
I have some very clear memories of my Real Ale adolescence too. They involved guys I first met in a god forsaken prefab in Trafford Park. And those work colleagues introduced me to places I’d otherwise never have found (John Fishwick RIP – I owe that man),or have taken years to discover.
So we start with my first Xmas do. In 1984. The beer – and pub – landscape would be unrecognisable to most now. Beer in Manchester City centre was mostly Wilson, Tetley’s, Robinson’s, Marstons, some Boddingtons and – bizarrely, given the brewery location – no Holts. In short, variety was in short supply.
We started in The Hare & Hounds on Shudehill, a pub that – physically – has barely changed a paint flake. And it’s all the better for it. I adore the fact that I can drink in a pub first opened in the 1770s. Back then, it was a Tetley pub. In fact, it wasn’t that long ago that the ‘Huntsman’ logo was still on the exterior wall
The pub remains beautiful, with the most exquisite tile work across the bar area and the front room. The pub had – and almost uniquely in the city centre, still has – the feel of a “Local”. Back then, on that Friday evening, 35 years ago, it was rammed with people guzzling Tetley Bitter and Mild.
We moved on. To a Manchester landmark – but back then, it was “another pub” – The Marble Arch. It felt like a long walk up Rochdale Road, but in reality it’s less than 300 yards. There was no brewery back then (we were 10 years or so away from that historic installation). It sounds like heresy to say this, but – at that point – it was “just another pub”. Albeit, one that had recently been turned into a “freehouse”. At that time, “The Arch” was yet to bury her claws into my consciousness. The next pub was one that claimed an early place in my heart.
The Harp & Shamrock was one of the smallest pubs in Manchester. It was legendarily “tucked away” in the (then) warehouse district – what have since become luxury apartments. It was tiny, with two rooms (both ‘petit’) with the main bar in the room to the left, which, whilst itself small, still managed to accommodate a well used dart board. It was a Marstons pub. And that thing about being ‘tucked away’ meant that it didn’t get much attention when it stayed serving “after hours”.
The Harp & Shamrock was my first real “pub crush”. These days it would be regarded as a Micro Pub, given its size. It was always friendly, the beer was always excellent (Marstons almost qualified as “exotica” in those days). Later on, the pub was bought and renamed “The Pot of Beer”. It became locally known for its Polish bar menu – the food was ace. We’d travel as a team at lunchtime from Old Trafford to sample its delights.
I loved that place. Now long closed – the building, strangely (given the surrounding development of the Angel Meadow area) still remains functioning – the building is a bit of a fantasy of mine. Just give me an 8 figure lottery win and I’d get that pub back….
From there – and it had been a long day / evening – we were nearing the end. And, fortunately, it was a short walk along New Mount Street, left onto Ludgate Street then right onto Dyche Street to a pub that has gone through some changes in the intervening years – including two name changes. You’ll now know it as The Angel. But back then, it was The Weavers Arms.
According to the exceptional “Manchesterhistory.net” website, this pub has been called “The Weavers” since – at least – the 1850s
Before it’s “transformation” into the freehouse that was “The Beerhouse” (where it was created as an open plan pub, the Weavers was (technically) 3 roomed, with a small “Snug” type room at the rear, with a larger room to the front with an upstairs performance space. (On that night, the legendary Manchester Bluesman Victor Brox was playing upstairs)
We went in the Snug, which – despite its size – managed to accommodate a pool table (a rarity in the City Centre). That pool table ended up covering a “tired and emotional” colleague before we finished……
The Weavers was a straight up Tetley pub, bustling with Friday night custom and an excellent pint of Tetley Bitter. Pool was played – no doubt unsteadily – beer was further consumed and the evening, for me at least, ended here.
For me, I preferred the pub as The Weavers. But then, I love multi – roomed pubs. Yes, it had the “Robert Owen Brown” years of gastro pubbery as The Angel and the pub feels run down and an almost “awaiting an offer from developers” kind of feel, but that’s “progress”
This post is a bit of a love letter to people who’ll never read it. My first colleagues in the Civil Service. They introduced me to now long gone pubs like The Castle & Falcon, The Coach & Horses, The White House, places I may never have experienced if it wasn’t for Hig, Fish & Co.
I owe those fellas. Johnny Fish passed away a few years back (I only heard after the event) and the last time I saw Hig was wobbly at the bar of The Marble Arch about 6 or 7 years ago.
These fellas were my educators, both in work and in beer. And – like I said – I owe a debt.
And yes. Even after only a month, I miss pubs. I’ll be raising a glass, virtually, with friends, tonight. But it’s not the same. Back soon. Stay safe. Jx
May 23 2020
Adapt To Survive
It’s almost like I needed a reminder of what the inside of a pub looks like….
I’m not a religious man. The opposite is true really. But if I was, I’d describe organising The Independent Salford Beer Festival as my penance for past sins. Like a “slightly” more stressful “Three Hail Marys, Two Our Fathers and a wotsit……”
This year, that penance hurt me round about early March *Checks emails* (the 13th to be exact). That was the day that I sent out the initial invitations to supply what WAS to be #ISBF7. The replies started to arrive within minutes. And all were looking forward to the event…. But more than a handful had a suffix to the message. A proviso. A phrase that was repeated “…. if we survive”
Of course. Covid-19 has wrought profound sadness and grief. The loss of family and friends is a truly terrible thing. Of all people, of that I am perfectly aware. But from a business perspective, it brought home to me the fears of many associates and friends in this business. The entire hospitality sector was in state of fear. Pubs, bars, cafes, restaurants, all boarding up like Florida beachfronts in the face of hurricane season.
However, after a week or two, things – the feeling – started to change. There was a distinct sense of determination (in some quarters), like a survival instinct had kicked in. Fight or flight. And many businesses, breweries and bars in particular, started to think about adapting their MO. Sensing that not all was lost….
Breweries that package beer in bottle and can started to think about diverting production, getting beer out to independent Micro pubs – themselves adapting to an off sales and delivery ‘model’ – setting up direct Web sales, regulations compliant deliveries. But breweries that only produced cask ale were faced with the heartbreaking thought of pouring entire brews and cold store stocks down the drain. I speak as someone who – yearly – pours fabulous beer down the drain at the end of each ISBF. It brings real tears to these eyes.
Then I heard of breweries starting to “Bag in Box”. A common thing in Cider, but not so in beer.
The day that delivery (above) arrived, I danced like a fool. Pictish “Brewers Gold”. It felt (and tasted) like a dream. A classic session pale. And that night I slaked a month long thirst on one of my favourite beers. Nectar.
With breweries increasingly bottling & canning, actually BREWING again, it felt like Spring was on the way. OK, maybe not the end of this social winter, but the blizzards were now reduced to flurries.
There is an increasing feeling of positivity. That there is a light to reach out to. That survival isn’t just possible, but a realistic prospect for many, certainly in the area I call home.
And in my area, there are three businesses that I want to applaud. Three businesses that not only haven’t given up, but have maintained. And reached out to others. Helping. Sharing. Lifted.
Marble. In particular, the owner, Jan Rogers. In those incredibly dark early days, the reaching out on social media work advice on how to deal with “The Man”. With HMRC and other arms of Government. Advice on how to deal, entitlements, that all wasn’t lost. Brava.
Jason & Jules Bailey at GRUB. For keeping going. For advice. Help to small businesses. Small street food vendors might just get through this because of these two. For delivering draught beer and food across the area. And the most lovely Chicken Katsu from Sutikku..
Last – and buy no means least – Cloudwater. For being quick to reach out to smaller local breweries and availing them of the use of their well established and successful Web sales facility. That’s collaboration. And Mancunian.
Stay safe. Shop (and drink) independent. Shop local.
Be kind to one another. Jx
By BeersManchester • Uncategorized • 0