Classic scooterists – banish forever those critics who call your mighty steed an underpowered moped. Here is empirical evidence that a Series 2 Lambretta is perfectly at ease lugging you and your spouse. And a sidecar with a child in it. And your luggage. And a folding caravan with a stock of pink Witney blankets. And a rowing boat.
Check out that commentary. Why does nobody sound like that any more?
Some years ago, I was in the Aprilia Centre on Commercial Road when I heard a loud bang. I glanced through the window just in time to see a motorcycle, a motorcylist and the 1980 Vespa P200 I’d left parked outside all in the air together, like a film still of a ballet. The biker had overtaken a lorry at speed, lost control and smacked into my scooter, writing it, his bike and his kneecap off in the process. A day later I was showing my documents at Leytonstone police station. The desk sergeant clocked my CAMRA membership card.
“Like a pint, do you son?”
“Er, yeah.”
“Take my advice. Stay away from every pub on the High Road. All of ‘em. Except the Bell. The Bell’s alright.”.
That was nearly ten years ago, and the rough pubs that kept the local coppers busy are almost all gone. They’ve been converted to flats or mini-supermarkets or demolished altogether. Some have even been gentrified. You wouldn’t think twice about visiting the remaining pubs. And the sergeant was correct about the Bell – It was alright. A big, friendly 30s roadhouse bookended by the red brick former Police station and the Cuthbert-Dibble-and-Grub Fire Station. There’s been an Inn on the site since at least 1718.
Packed on a friday when the Karaoke was on, likewise on sundays with Billy Stevens’ Famous Quiz with its prizes for losers, the Bell wouldn’t be on many beer nerd’s tick list. Unless you liked Greene King, that is – two meagre pumps of decently kept Abbot and IPA – but as a beer nerd, sometimes you need a night off the Mikkeller and the Magic Rock just to swig Carling prem to the click of pool balls and the fruit machine. Punters were an affable mash of firemen, regulars from neighbouring streets and a smattering of contractors from the Olympic park. Lots of different accents, ages, modes of dress and skin tones. East London in microcosm. It had a large, L-shaped bar and smaller back room. Decor cues were from an episode of Changing Rooms, circa 1995 – but none the worse for that. Nosh was famously cheap and popular with blokes in hi-viz with betting shop pencils tucked behind an ear.
You can see the demise of some pubs coming a mile off, but often it comes as a shock. When the guv’nor of another local told me of the Bell’s demise, I thought he was joking. It seemed so unlikely for a pub reputedly making a decent profit to close so suddenly, but the Bell sold its last pint in the wee hours of New Years Day.
Exactly why it closed is a bit of mystery. Some say the landlady has retired, others say the pubco has flogged the building for housing. Whatever the reason, it’s proof positive that if you don’t keep an eye on your pubs, they can vanish.
It’s become a bit of a tradition at work that on the day we finish for Christmas, I bring in some ‘interesting’ beers for my lager-favouring colleagues to try. I nipped over to the London Bridge Oddbins and picked up some bottles from Kernel, lovingly made one bridge further East along the Thames at Bermondsey. That afternoon we got stuck into some of their Stella IPA and M.A NZC Pale, with measures getting ever-smaller as more colleagues came and joined in. “I never knew proper beer could taste this good” said one, who normally drinks Magners. Every now and then a brewery pops up that deserves the hype. Kernel is one of them. I kept back an Export India Porter for Christmas dinner.
A few days later. The turkey’s carved. The pigs are in blankets. The bottle of Porter has been settling on a cool shelf. I gently ease the the Kernel’s cap off, and a spout of sticky black liquid blasts from the bottle, coating the microwave, the kitchen worktop, the floor and the window sill – and me – in the best part of five quid’s worth of beer. The two fingers I manage to rescue into my La Chouffe glass is swimming with sediment. Down the sink, and I reach for an Old Peculier instead. A Theakston bottle may not be as modish as Kernel, but you can be sure you won’t need a mop on standby.
A picture a day from my first week back at work. Happy new year!
This slideshow requires JavaScript.
Well, what a year it’s been. Some downs, but a lot of ups – 2011 was the year in which our son was born, and nothing will ever top that. Sincere thanks for visiting me ‘umble blog – I’d like to wish all my visitors a happy and peaceful Christmas and New Year. See you in 2012!
Just returned from a fortnight away to find that Leytonstone has grown another pub, the Shepherds Inn. Until about ten years this was the Cowley Arms. When we moved to the area it was boarded up, having been ‘enthusiastically’ closed by the Police due to the shenanigans of the clientele. Later on it became a decent music venue, the Loaded Dog. That closed after three or so years when the parent company went belly-up. After that, it was closed for a bit until taken over by a former publican of the nearby Colegrave arms (more of which in a following post), before shutting yet again due to ill health. It’s the last of three (rubbish) neighbouring pubs, all of which have been recently demolished with the sites earmarked for – yawn – new flats.
A bit of digging around on the internets reveal that ‘bernelių užeiga’ is a small chain of Lithuanian pub-restaurants based around ‘traditional country cooking’, so another real ale venue is unlikely – but i’ve always been partial to the odd Svyturys.. Whatever it is, it’s certainly a welcome addition to the dreariest bit of Leytonstone High Road, and by the looks of it they’re sparing no expense. You’d never confuse Leytonstone with Kensington, but it’s yet another improvement to the area. I’ll be sticking my nose in when it opens – even if their sign promising ‘European Music’ does mean i’ll need a drink before I actually set foot in the place.
I’m sure it was more design than accident that TapEast was built right next to Stratford International Station. Nobody seems to know if continental trains ever will stop there, but it’s very handy for visitors from oop North. If you come into Kings Cross, neighbouring Saint Pancras is a mere seven minutes from Stratford on the new High Speed line. On saturday it was where I met my brother, down to see his new nephew. I hadn’t seen Our Lad for six months – time for a brewski. Nowadays, I don’t get to the pub much – so every minute and every beer counts. TapEast, then.
My first visit to Westfield’s brewpub was underwhelming. My second, where I enjoyed a superb pint of Oakham Citra was heartening. Our Lad orders a Sierra Nevada Pale. I order a half of Tap East’s 6% Extra Stout, made about 15 feet from the pump in their new brewhouse.
I am presented with what looks like a half of flat coke.
“Er, is this meant to come with no trace of a head?” I asked the barman.
“Nah. You don’t get a head with this one”. And he’s off.
You what? A loose, ‘bubbly’ head I can deal with. I’ve lived in the South a long time. But this had nothing, not even the faintest ghost of a vicar’s collar. Once in the mouth, the Stout had a few, if meagre, signs of life despite appearances. A fair bit of liquorice. Treacle toffee. But it was thin and dull. I didn’t even finish it. I’ve now had three beers in TapEast, and two have been dismal. Ordinarily, I would have argued. But I simply couldn’t be bothered. I took the coward’s way out and Tweeted about it instead.
A bit later, and two stops up the Central Line to the Red Lion, Leytonstone. Outstanding Standing Out for me, Brodie’s Hackney Red for our Lad. Yep, this’ll do. Light, bitter. A good saturday afternoon pint. The Brodies was more copper than red – well balanced, clean. Our next pint was a Brodies Shoreditch Sunshine. Brimful of orangey notes and grippingly hoppy – dry, dry, dry. A much bigger drink than you might expect for 3.8%. Makes you wonder what Brodies can do with a 2.8% ‘peoples pint’.
This was the first time I’d done a proper visit to E11′s newest boozer. Usually i’m in and out after one pint. It was nice to sit and take it all in. The right kind of busy. Hum of conversation. Unobtrusive music. Bloke having a swift pint while the wife’s in Primark. Read the papers. Bring your dog. Bring your kids. The couple on the table next to us playing Cleudo and drinking La Chouffe. Another beer? Same again. Cheers. Then off to meet Mrs and Little Wheels at our favourite restaurant.
Sunday morning. Bacon sarnies all round.
Eyup. A direct message from Twitter. Don’t get many of those.
Hi, this is Glyn, Manager of @TapEast. Deepest apologies for your terrible service yesterday. I have already reprimanded the person involved. As far as I can tell, you got a terrible pour yesterday because I’ve poured a half this morning and it kept it’s head for 25 mins. I agree with you, beer brewed on site should be A1 and I’m extremely unhappy that you were treated so badly obviously I realise you may not be inclined to return but if you do, please come say hi and I’ll try and make it up to you somehow!
Oh, blimey. The internet does work after all. Being British, I instantly reply, worrying that I’ve got the barman into big trouble.
tbh – he deserved to get in trouble for that, it was lazy service and I won’t have it. Thanks for your understanding and your best wishes.
After this last visit I was indeed going to give up on TapEast, for the time being at least. To be fair, nobody else seems to have a bad word to say about the place, and I want to be the same. I have to assume I’ve been unlucky, but these days I just don’t have the time or money to play Real Ale Roulette. But Glyn, after this response, I certainly will be back – and soon.
You wait years for a beer festival in Leytonstone. And then two come along at once.
According to the guv’nor at the Red Lion, after a slow start their North/South festival turned out to be so popular they’re planning another for April. Meanwhile, Leytonstone’s other real ale rendezvous The North Star is having (to my knowledge) their first ever festival – kicking off on the tenth of November for three days.
Here’s what’s on:
Cairngorm trade winds 4.3
Orkney red macgregor 4.0
Orkney dragonhead stout 4.0
Rudgate viking 3.8
Rudgate jorvik blonde 3.8
Springhead maid marian 4.5
Dark star american pale ale 4.7
Blindmans mine beer bitter 4.2
Loddon shrimpers 4.1
Skinners betty stoggs 4.0
Skinners ginger tosser 3.8
Skinners cornish knocker 4.5
Tring jack o legs 4.2
Plain arty farty 3.9
Hewitts brewery :
Unhung hero 5.0
Urbane gorilla 4.3
East london brewery
Foundation bitter 4.2
Elb pale ale 4.0
Redemption brewery
Trinity 3.0
Big chief 5.5
Urban dusk 4.6
Mighty oak brewery
Oscar wilde 3.7
Old banger 4.3
The North Star has a special place in my heart. It was one of the few pubs in this area that held ground for real ale until reinforcements came in the shape of The Red Lion and Tap East, among others, and one of the reasons that its now possible to do a decent pub crawl in East London.
Saturday. A rare free day in London, with Mrs and Little Wheels away in Devon. On my way to the Commando Comics exhibition I gave TapEast another go. You may recall that my previous visit just after the Westfield brewpub-to-be opened was pretty mediocre. I’m happy to put that down to teething problems, because the Oakham Citra they served me this time was bang on – absolutely in the peak of condition. I wasn’t keen on the barman wiping the froth off the glass with his fingers after he poured it, but i’ll let that slide. Their new brewkit is shining shinily in a glassed-off back room. First beers will be available on the 4th of November (although Meerforbeer thinks it’s the 9th – hopefully one of us is correct).
In other news – here’s the Euston Tap as it appears in the National Railway Museum‘s model of Euston Station, in need of a update with a portaloo and Bernard-branded umbrellas.
|
