Sunday, 29 June 2025

No errors at Tonbridge Cardinal's

This post is written with Retired Martin in mind, after he commented on one of my recent posts. He wrote that he was looking forward to reading about the Cardinal's Error, which might be the only Tonbridge pub he hadn’t been in. For those who don’t know the town, and I’m assuming that probably means more than a few of you, the Cardinal’s is an attractive, old tile-hung pub which dates back to the 16th century. Surrounded by a post-war housing development, the pub seems a little incongruous, but it’s worth remembering that following World War II, the country faced an acute housing shortage. The solution was the construction of a large number of housing estates, under the control of the local authority, and then rented out at an affordable rate to local people.

Known as “council housing” at the time, and “social housing” today, the planners of the estate just to the north of Somerhill House, had the foresight to provide occupants of the new dwellings with their own public house, in conjunction with local brewer, Frederick Lenny & Sons Ltd. Leney’s, who brewed at the Phoenix Brewery in Wateringbury, acquired the two farmhouse cottages in 1946, with the intention of converting them into a public house. They transferred the liquor license from the old White Hart beer house on Tonbridge High Street, and the pub opened for business a few years later.

The pub was named the "Cardinal's Error” with the figure of Cardinal Thomas Wolsey featuring on the sign. Wolsey had suppressed Tonbridge Priory (plundered the place for its wealth), with the blessing of his master, Henry VIII, but much against the wishes of the townsfolk. By way of reparation, the Cardinal promised to build a grammar school in place of the priory, but unfortunately for him, and the good people of Tonbridge, he fell from favour before he could carry out his promise. His “error” of course, was putting his trust in the bloodthirsty tyrant, that was Henry VIII.

It's interesting to note that Leney’s had been a subsidiary of Whitbread & Co Ltd since 1927, but in 1961 sold their tied estate to Fremlin’s Ltd of Maidstone. That situation didn’t last long, because six years later, Fremlin’s was purchased by Whitbread & Co Ltd, returning the Cardinal’s Error to its original brewery. In 2002 Whitbread sold its pub estate, to Enterprise Inns, and today the pub is run by Pendry’s Pubs LtdThat’s enough history, apart from saying that at one time, I was a regular visitor to what was then, a two-bar local, on the edge of town. 

That was when I first started working in Tonbridge, which was some five years before I moved to the town. The Cardinal’s was a good place for a lunchtime drink, back in the days when enjoying a couple of pints at lunchtime was perfectly acceptable. The pub served a particularly well-kept pint of Fremlin’s Bitter, and you could also get a decent sausage sandwich there, as well. The Cardinals had two bars, back then, which were quite distinct from one another, but this arrangement worked. Things changed a decade or so later, and whilst I can’t remember exactly when the changes took place, they were to the detriment of both bars. The cosy atmosphere of the former saloon bar vanished, as did the more down-to-earth feel of the public bar.  

Today, the Cardinal’s remains divided internally into two distinct drinking areas by a massive brick chimney, with open fireplaces either side, although the addition of a games area, for pool, darts, plus TV sports, has now left the former public bar as the quietest part of the pub. Over the years the Cardinal’s has become much more of a local’s pub than it had been previously, which is probably due to the demise of the lunchtime, office, drinking crowd, but the main thing is it is still trading. The Cardinal’s had been unknown territory since before the pandemic, and whilst I’d contemplated calling in there for a while, when push came to the shove, I kept backing away. 

This situation continued for the best part of a year, and whilst I’m not usually a procrastinator, I was in this instance. I’m not quite sure where this reluctance stemmed from, although it may have been because I perceived the pub as being a bit rough. It might well have been, back in the day, but following the piecemeal sale of a large chunk of the former council estate, under Thatcher’s “right to buy scheme,” the area has undergone a transformation, so that argument no longer holds true.

So, last Thursday lunchtime, I bit the bullet and took a wander along to the pub. It was just over 5 minutes’ walk, so nice and convenient then, but would it deliver on the beer front, plus the “somewhere to go for a nice quiet drink” front as well. I’m pleased to report that the pub ticked both those boxes, as well as wiping away all my negative expectations. I would guess there were a half-dozen or so customers in the pub, some sitting at the bar, some playing pool, plus one or two nicotine addicts standing outside. They were all male, with the landlady the only member of the opposite sex. Quite a few of the blokes seemed a similar age to me, which was a good sign, as far as I am concerned.

I spotted pump clip for St Austell Tribute, affixed to one of the beer engine handles, and whilst I am quite fond of this beer, I asked the landlady whether the pub also stocked Harvey’s. They didn’t, apparently as it’s an expensive beer when bought wholesale, I already knew this, plus I was told, it didn’t keep particularly well. She also mentioned that there wasn’t the turnover for the pub to stock two cask ales. It was then that the penny dripped, because, as mentioned earlier, the Cardinal’s is owned by Pendry’s Pubs Ltd, a small pub-co that also includes the Chequers in Tonbridge High Street, as part of its estate.

The beer was fine, so seeing as I was a nice day, I tool my pint outside, and sat under the semi-covered pergola area, adjacent to the games area and over looking the pub garden. The latter seems to count include a marquee as a semi-permanent fixture, so possibly the pub caters for weddings? At other times, the food offering is confined to hand prepared, stone- baked sourdough pizzas plus bar snack sides, and these seem restricted to Saturday and Sunday afternoons.

All in all, I was impressed with what I found, and I shall definitely be returning. The thought of a nice quiet pub where I can sit and read a book, or engage others in conversation, should I wish, appeal to me. The fact that this particular pub is just a 5-minute stroll away, appeals to me even more, so in the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger, “I’ll be back!”

 

Saturday, 28 June 2025

A Pub For All Seasons - a year long journey in search of the perfect British local

After the previous post I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that this one is a lot lighter as well as more uplifting. It revolves around the book I’d been reading, since the end of April, and which I finally finished a couple of days ago. It was the publication I took on our recent cruise, and whilst I didn’t finish it on the voyage, it’s the sort of book you can dip in and out of, without losing the thread. It's a light hearted sort of book and one you can put down when needed, and then pick up on afterwards, whilst knowing exactly where you left off. The book I am referring to is the latest publication from former British Beer Writer of the Year, Adrian Tierney-Jones, an esteemed individual whom I have had the pleasure of meeting on several occasions.

Adrian had been diligently working on this latest offering for quite some time, and whist he didn’t come straight out with it, reading between the lines, the break in normal activity (especially pub going), that was such a depressing feature of the pandemic, must have influenced his choice of subject. 

The book is titled "A Pub For All Seasons," with the subtitle "A Year Long Journey in Search of the Perfect British Local," and is the chronicle of a year-long journey which saw Adrian exploring various pubs across Britain. The quest, which begins with the simple aim of finding a pleasant place to sit and enjoy a pint of beer, ultimately reveals to the author the essence of what truly constitutes the perfect British local.

Throughout his travels, Adrian engages with locals and landlords alike, listening to their stories, and whilst experiencing the food, drink, and general ambiance of each pub. He states that during a lifetime of dedicated pub going, he’s come to believe that there is a pub for every season, and it is this seasonal effect that is the main theme of the book.   

He kicks off with autumn, that mellow, and often gentle, time of the year, but one which can also mean events such as Halloween(an unwelcome import from across the Atlantic, in my view), Bonfire Nigh, Remembrance Sunday, plus the grand-daddy of them all, Christmas. Despite its overblown commercialism, Christmas does brighten up the dull and often dreary days of winter, and the cheer associated with parties, and festive dinners, provides a welcome, and often much needed boost to a pub’s finances.

 

 Moving towards spring, there is Valentine’s Day, if that is your thing, followed by Easter, followed by a cluster
of very welcome Bank Holidays, all of which can help give businesses that extra boost to help them stay afloat. Summer, of course is where pubs really come into their own, and this is where the cycle of the seasons turns full circle. So, from providing dimly lit and cosy retreats, where one can hide oneself away during autumn and winter, preferably in close proximity to a roaring log fire, through to spring when the first green shoots start to appear, the circular nature of the seasons continues, into summer. This is where life really returns, after the drab, and chilly days of autumn, winter and sometimes spring too. It is where things move outside – think pub beer gardens, barbecues, beer festivals, or just generally chilling out with friends, whilst enjoying a few welcome pints of refreshing, and lightly chilled beer.

Adrian believes that many pubs and bars exhibit seasonal variations in their atmosphere, impacting the experiences of dedicated pub goers. As the weather warms, outdoor seating becomes more common, yet April may still bring a chill, before summer arrives in a blaze of glory. Then, as autumn begins, the feeling of solitude starts creeping in, and may become more pronounced as the days become shorter and the nights longer. During this time, dark and malty beers often replace the pale, hoppy beers of summer, with stouts and porters becoming more appealing – evidence again of the effect that the seasons have on the nation’s pubs.

There’s nothing here that I’ll take issue with, and "A Pub For All Seasons” is one of those books that is a joy to read. Whilst it's obviously been written from the author’s perspective, it also rings a bell with its intended audience, due to the similarities with their own pub-going experiences. It certainly had this effect on me! There’s a reasonable percentage of pubs in Adrian’s book that I have visited, just as there are quite a few others that I would like to set foot in, given half the chance. 

Topping the list is the Bridge Inn at Topsham which the author refers to several times, revealing that it is one of his favourites. Seeing as he lives in Exeter, this is perhaps, no surprise, but there are others such as the Haunch of Venison, in Salisbury, that I visited last year, plus a couple of classics that I remember from my early days of pub exploration, that I would definitely like to experience again, before my time is up. I am referring here to the Square & Compass, at Worth Matravers, in the splendid, setting of the Isle of Purbeck, plus the Three Tuns, at Bishop’s Castle, close to the border between Shropshire and Wales. Both are real classics, with the latter, doubly so, because of its long-standing, home-brew credentials.

There are many other pubs I could list out that I am either familiar with, or would like to become acquainted, and they all have that elusive quality that, whilst difficult to define, is what makes a pub so special. In his quest for pub nirvana, Adrian is seeking out the atmosphere and ambience associated with all good pubs, along with the way in which these elements seem change over the course of the year. He manages to do this with the use of specific examples which highlight what is unique about each season, but there are also some pubs which he describes across all four seasons. Unsurprisingly, these places are usually ones he is very familiar with, such as those in the areas around Topsham and Totnes in Devon.

So, what started as a simple quest to sit and drink in a few favourite pubs, ends up revealing much more regarding the secret to what truly makes the perfect British local, when viewed across all four seasons. For someone who has just spent a fortnight, cruising around the British Isles, and experienced parts of these islands that in many cases, were just names on a map, the opportunity to visit a hostelries, in some of these far-flung places, was too good an opportunity to miss. And whilst the voyage provided just a brief snapshot of what’s available on home turf, Adrian’s book proved the perfect travel companion, for a good holiday read.

 

 

Wednesday, 25 June 2025

Martyn Cornell - a few thoughts, and some recollections

This post was always going to be a hard one to write, and even now three weeks after the event I'm still not certain where or how to begin regarding what I'm writing. However, once I reveal the individual’s name, then I’m sure many other people will feel the same way. I'm talking, of course, about Martyn Cornell who passed away suddenly, and quite unexpectedly at the beginning of the month, and just in case you are unaware of Martyn’s achievements, he was almost certainly, one of the most knowledgeable and most successful beer historians, of his generation.

He was highly sought after as a lecturer about beer, its history and development, an at the time of his passing, he was preparing to travel to Iceland to visit a number of breweries there. Four years ago, he moved to the Norfolk town of Cromer, home of the Poppyland micro-brewery, and operated by his brother Dave and Dave's wife Mandy. His final, and much anticipated book, "Porter and Stout: A Complete History," which explodes some of the myths surrounding that great Victorian beer, Porter, will be published this month and is expected to be well-received.

Now unlike those writers, who have posted their own tributes to Martyn, I didn't know him particularly well, in fact I only met him on a handful of occasions. Primarily these were events organised by the British Guild of Beer Writers. In June 2016, the Guild’s Annual General Meeting was held at the historic George Inn, situated just off Borough High Street, and close to London Bridge. According to the article I posted at the time, Martyn was present that evening, although I never managed to speak to him.

That opportunity occurred several years’ later at one of the Awards Dinners that the Guild organised in London, during the run-up to Christmas. 2021’s event was held in the sumptuous surroundings of Institution of Mechanical Engineers, close to Westminster, and I remember both Martyn and I being seated at the same table, alongside Gillian Hough who, at the time, was one of CAMRA’s national directors. 

Apart from me spilling out my reasons for leaving the Campaign, to Gillian, I can’t remember what else cropped up in the conversation, but five years’ earlier, Martyn and I were both delegates at the 2016 European Beer Writer’s Conference, held in Amsterdam. Although we didn’t know it at the time, that year’s event, proved to be the last, because Zephyr Adventures, the US-based organiser of these events, decided to call it a day. Whether Zephyr just got cold feet, or whether they found the logistics of organising such an event in a different continent, too difficult or too taxing, remains unknown, but for budding beer writers like me, these conferences were excellent. During the mid-teens of this century (2014 – 2016), I attended conferences in Dublin, Brussels, and finally Amsterdam, and it was at that particular event that I first saw Martyn in action. He was one of two speakers who addressed the conference’s opening session, along with Tim Webb, another writer from what I call the “old school” of beer writers.

Tim’s conference address, stuck in my mind more than Martyn’s, but that’s not to detract from a person who was quietly spoken, and extremely knowledgeable, without any no hint of wishing to show off to the audience. Although Martyn could be a stern critic of other writers, he was always pleasant company when meeting for a beer.  Prior to the conference, along with a dozen or so other beer writers, the pair of us were guests of Visit Brabant, the tourist agency which looks after this province of the Netherlands. The agency had certainly pulled out all the stops to make us feel welcome, and to show off this attractive and inviting area of the country. The excursion included an overnight stop in the historic city of ‘s-Hertogenbosch; normally abbreviated to Den Bosch.

Earlier that morning, our group was transported by coach, to the Abbey of Koningshoeven at Berkel-Enschot; home to the Dutch Trappist Brewery of La Trappe. Koningshoeven is one of just two Trappist breweries based in the Netherlands, out of the 11 currently in existence world-wide. The abbey is home to a community of 16 Benedictine monks, and as well as brewing beer it also produces cheese. Brewing began at Koningshoeven back in 1884, as a means of financing the monastery, and whilst the monks originally produced the beer themselves, it eventually became necessary to obtain outside commercial assistance.

After a tour of the brewery, we adjourned to the shady beer garden, next to the visitor centre, for a lunch of local ham, cheese, salad, and bread rolls. More beer followed in the form of a 7.5% Isid’or beer for me, whilst others went for either the 4.7% Puur (a pilsner-style beer), or the Witte Trappist 5.5%, wheat beer. The garden was crowded with visitors, most of whom appeared to have arrived by bike. Afterwards it was our turn to cycle, although those who preferred not to, were transported to the next destination by coach. Ten years ago, I was still a regular cyclist, so I was definitely up for a bike ride, even though our route along the bank of a canal, was a lot longer than expected.

Later that afternoon, after visiting a couple more breweries, our coach transported us back to Den Bosch, where we enjoyed a boat ride along the network of canals which ring the city. After checking into our hotel, we had an evening meal, plus several more beers the Café Bar le Duc, a brewpub and beer-café, situated right in the historic centre of the city. I’ve looked back at the photos of that day, and picked out both Martyn Cornell and Bryan Betts, another much missed beer writer, who was also taken from us, far too soon, (Bryan, sadly passed away in February, last year).

Midway through the conference, we given a tour of the legendary Jopen Brewery in Haarlem - a city that lies to the west of Amsterdam. The brewery visit was followed by an excellent, beer-related dinner, held in the almost ecclesiastical setting of Jopen’s original brewery, situated in a converted church. At the end of the conference, there were several, optional, beer-related activities, and the one I chose was a trip out to the renowned Brouwerij De Molen, housed in a converted windmill, in the small town of Bodegraven.

Martyn was present on that trip, which involved taking a train from Amstel station, and then making an hour’s rail journey, south-west from the Dutch capital to Bodegraven. It poured hard with rain, for much of the day, and we arrived at De Molen, looking like a group of drowned rats. Regrettably, much of the narrative surrounding not just this brewery visit, but the conference in general was lost when my old laptop decided to die on me, but I do remember we were well looked at renowned Brouwerij De Molen. Although the brewing originally took place in the old windmill, the majority of the company’s production is now concentrated place inside a couple of modern, industrial units, just a couple of blocks away. We were shown this during the tour, along with brewery’s impressive setup for producing different, barrel aged beers. 

By the time we arrived back in Amsterdam, the sun was shining, and we enjoyed a pleasant walk stroll to the hotel, along the banks of the Amstel river. I took a few photos which demonstrate that with Amsterdam being built on water, you can't go more than a few 100 yards without stumbling across a canal.

 I learned the sad news of Martyn’s passing, the day after I returned from holiday and thinking about both the writer and the man, is what prompted me to pen this tribute. Martyn was only three years older than me, which makes this loss particularly poignant, even though we are all unaware of how much time we have left on this earth. I am confident that Martyn's work will continue to inspire, both through his published writings and his blog. Apart from offering my heartfelt condolences to Martyn's family and friends, there is not much more I can say. His passing, far too soon, leaves a significant void, and his extensive knowledge, factual insights, pleasant nature, and friendly demeanour will be greatly missed.

 

Friday, 20 June 2025

An expensive make-over for the Vauxhall Inn, Tonbridge

There are two pubs within easy walking distance of Bailey Towers, and by this, I mean a 10-minute stroll. Both pubs are quite ancient in appearance and form, as evidenced by the attractive, period buildings, they are housed in. Both date back several centuries, and interestingly the first of these establishments only became a pub shortly after World War II. That particular pub is the Cardinal’s Error, and I shall deal with it in a subsequent article, but for now I want to talk about the second of the two pubs, which is the Vauxhall, a former coaching inn, situated on the edge of Tonbridge and close to the main A21 Hastings – London highway.

When I first moved to Tonbridge the Vauxhall was a fairly basic and perhaps a trifle run down boozer, but it had character and a welcoming open fire in the winter. Like many local pubs at the time, it was owned by Whitbread, and back in the mid 80’s was the perfect place to take the family dog to, after she’d had been exercised around the nearby fields. Several years later, Whitbread sold the Vauxhall off to a small, and recently established pub company, who had a handful of pubs scattered across West Kent. The pub was extended to the rear and also joined to a former stable block, that was originally a “stand alone” building.

This effectively trebled the Vauxhall in size, with the original part of the pub forming an extended bar, whilst the rear extension, plus the old stable block acting as the main dining areas. The real open fires were replaced by fake, gas-fuelled "log-effect" fires and the place re-opened as a "Chimneys" restaurant.  Dogs of course were no longer welcome, so I too decided that my custom was not wanted either and took myself elsewhere. In 2012 the Vauxhall returned to the Whitbread fold and became a Chef and Brewer pub. It was a pleasant enough place to go for a quiet drink, even though prices were on the dear side, and as far as dogs were concerned, we had lost our hound 10 years or so previously.

Since then, I’ve had a pretty much indifferent association with the pub, as had my wife primarily, because the Vauxhall was chosen by her group of friends as a convenient meeting place. I’m right in saying, that pretty much every time she’s come back disappointed. She’s also convinced that the pub is haunted, because things are continually going wrong there. Somewhere along the line, the pub passed into the ownership of Greene King, leaving Whitbread to concentrate on running the Premier Inn, situated at the rear of the pub. If you can put up with the traffic noise, the Premier makes a good base for those visiting the area and wishing to explore it further.

Apart from last weekend (see below), my last time of dining at the Vauxhall was in July 2023. Matthew and I ate there at a time when Mrs PBT’s was feeling poorly. I won’t go into too much detail about that, but you can read more about it here, should you wish. That evening, whilst there was a reasonable number of customers in the pub, it wasn't exactly heaving. Also, as most of the diners were already there when we arrived, Matthew and I ended up being the last to leave. The quality of the food was good, and I enjoyed a chicken and ham hock pie, served up with mash, vegetables, and gravy. Matthew went for his usual choice of a burger.

Moving swiftly on, last Sunday, Matthew took me to the Vauxhall for a Father's Day. It was the first weekend that the Vauxhall had been open since closing last month for a major renovation ahead of the summer season. If the reports are true, Greene King spent a six-figure sum, on a facelift designed to achieve a new look inside, with new furnishings to modernise it while honouring its “rich heritage”. This was a bold, and possibly a brave move too, given it was Father’s Day, although I’m guessing that Mothering Sunday, is THE special occasion when families enjoy taking their mother out for lunch, to show appreciation and express gratitude for their mothers.

It was a bold decision by the Vauxhall management to reopen during over such a significant weekend, although I’m not certain that it was the right, or indeed the wise one. Our mid-afternoon arrival was probably after the peak lunchtime period, but the staff were obviously still adjusting to the changes, brought as a result of the makeover. Space management seemed to be a challenge, and whilst Matthew and I were waiting to be served, I overheard a staff member expressing concern about running out of glasses. In actuality, it seemed the problem was not a lack of glasses, but rather that no one had collected the empty ones and loaded them into the dishwasher. A more obvious issue seemed to be lack of space behind the bar counter, as the expensive upgrade hadn’t addressed what must have been an issue prior to the makeover.

I was left thinking what had the money been spent on, as apart from the chintzy-looking furniture, not much seemed to have changed. Being a warm day, many customers were sat outside, so the pair of us had little difficulty in finding a seat. The beers on sale were the obvious duo of IPA and Abbot, plus a new one for me in the form of a golden ale brewed specially for Chef & Brewer, called, rather unimaginatively Golden Nectar. This 3.4% abv offering was pleasant enough, although it’s no Taylor's Landlord, or Fuller's London Pride, but it was in good condition. I can’t say how much it was, as the round was Matthew’s “treat”.

In summary, I am unlikely to be returning, and whilst she wasn’t present, I doubt that Mrs PBT’s will either, given her previous experiences of the place. As for the bad vibes surrounding the place, the pub, rumoured to be haunted by the ghost of a young girl who was brutally murdered nearby in 1901. You can read the full story here, should you wish.