Beer-aeth

I was quite overjoyed to be crossing the threshold of this particular hostelry for several reasons. For two, mine and mine companion's bus journey had been quite hellish, and upon alighting the omnibus a cloudburst immediately began to saturate our garb.  Besides the above, my limited research of The Golden Ark showed it to have a fine selection of cask ale and kegged beers, but I was also aware that our attendance coincided (not coincidentally) with a beer festival. For reasons unclear to me, a beer festival taking place in October must now be marketed as an Oktoberfest, even though the Munich Oktoberfest takes place in September. Some of these events are utterly dreadful, as anyone who has spent an afternoon ankle deep in mud queuing in the rain for mediocre overpriced beer surrounded by braying twats in plastic lederhosen can attest. As The Golden Ark's festival was taking place indoors within the confines of the premises, I was hopeful. The bar itself (I don't feel it...

Rule 96. Don't let the cat near your pork scratchings. I've lost count of the times I've been in a mediocre pub and behind the bar is a wooden sign reading something like: Rules of the Pub Rule No.1: The bartender is always right.  Rule No.2: If the bartender is wrong, see rule number one. It's the public house equivalent of a Live, Love, Laugh sign. I think we can do better. I've started the process of codifying a non-exhaustive list of what I think the rules are for a great pub. They are a mixture of aesthetic guidance, behavioural rules, and stock suggestions. They are all eminently achievable, so long as you can desist from selling spoiled beer and are capable of putting up a stud wall. The fist ten are: 1. You can't please everyone. Trying to please everyone can actually lead you to pleasing no-one. 2. Open plan is bad. A quiet, solitary, contemplative pint can take place in the next room to a riotous orgy, but not in the same room.  3. The customer is NOT ...