Sunday 17 September 2023

Summer slips slowly away

 

Having struck gold last week at Lidl’s, I was not so lucky a week later at Aldi, the other German cost-cutter. Lidl had certainly turned trumps with their Wiesn-Tragerl 10 bottle, presentation pack, containing beers brewed to celebrate this special time of year in the calendar of beer lovers in both Germany, and increasingly in other parts of the world, as well.

Following on from my success with the Lidl’s packs which, according to seasoned bloggers, Boak & Bailey, was the cause of much excitement – hype, or hysteria amongst beer enthusiasts in Britain, thanks to social media allowing them to share an odd collective moment, I headed down to rivals, Aldi. This followed another couple of social reports I stumbled upon, including one from the Craft Beer Channel, indicating that Aldi were selling Paulaner and Erdinger Oktoberfest beers, along with Spaten Helles for £1.99 a bottle.

I’d missed the boat, or certainly most of it, as on Friday evening although Spaten Helles was still available, the offerings from Paulaner and Erdinger had already sold out. Oktoberfest is certainly proving a real hit, this year, here in the UK, and as if further proof was needed, son Matthew arrived home from Lidl’s laden with a number of typically Bavarian food items, all appropriate for the time of year. Last weekend we enjoyed some pork Schnitzels, and we've also chomped our way through several servings of Bratwurst. We've also got some of those spherical and spongy Bavarian potato dumplings Knรถdel, which we will have tomorrow served up with some goulash.

Finally, we have several tubs of Obatzda, a kind of soft cheese based on Camembert, but flavoured with various herbs and spices, forming the ideal beer garden snack. Matthew bought a sufficient quantity of this cheese to withstand a siege, but with a reasonably lengthy shelf life I'm sure it will all get eaten. As I say, Lidl’s certainly went to town with this year’s Oktoberfest celebrations.

Now some boring stuff. We had the boiler serviced yesterday, and it's hard to believe that it was a year ago that we had this new, and much more efficient model installed. The only thing that needs doing on that front now is to have the chimney swept, so that we can light the log burner. That won't happen until we return from our cruise at the start of the last week in October. We've also booked our Flu vaccinations for the end of next week. I think this will be the third year I've had this particular jab having never bothered until recently, but when I remember just how ill and debilitating flu can be, it's definitely worth it.

One of the other things I've done recently, is to join a beer club. The club in question is the Braybrooke Lager Club, operated by the Braybrooke Beer Co, a specialist lager brewery situated on Braybrooke Farm, just outside of Market Harborough. Founded in 2017 by three friends with the stated aim of making really good, proper lager. This is achieved through the use of state-of-the-art equipment, great care, and the best ingredients available. The result is a selection of unfiltered, unpasteurised, and naturally carbonated beers that have complexity whilst retaining the refreshing drinkability every great lager should have.

Members of the Braybrooke Lager Club receive a box of 12 bottles delivered free to their door every month. It is a mixed case of the brewery’s core beers (including their famous Keller Lager), specials and collaboration beers plus guest lagers. There are plenty of other brewing companies I could have supported, but I really liked what Braybrooke were doing so was quite happy to subscribe to the club. I should perhaps have read the small print, as the bottles are 330 ml size rather than the 500 ml I was expecting. Small matter said Mrs PBT's, if it's something you’re keen on, and you're going to enjoy the beers, then sometimes it's worth paying a little over the odds for something a bit special.

Moving on, and there’s bad news concerning yet another brewery closure, with the Wychwood Brewery, in Witney, Oxfordshire, the latest casualty. Wychwood’s flagship brand is the well-known Hobgoblin ale, although the brewery also produces beer for other companies. The current output is around 50,000 barrels a year, nearly all of it cask. Wychwood is also the United Kingdom's largest brewer of organic ales. The brewing plant is sited at the old Eagle Maltings which at one time produced malted barley for the nearby Clinches Brewery. Its current owner is the Carlsberg-Marstons Brewing Company, a multi-national giant formed by a joint venture between Carlsberg UK and Marston’s PLC, who are both shareholders.

Unfortunately, since their formation in 2020, CMBC have a track record of closing breweries, despite boasting of 300 years of shared values, history, and heritage in UK brewing. Jennings Brewery, at Cockermouth in the heart of the Lake District, closed last year, and back in June the closure of the Ringwood Brewery, in Hampshire was announced. Now Wychwood too, is due to bite the dust, with closure scheduled for November. The weasel words uttered by the chief executive of CMBC to excuse the closure of Wychwood, have been quite widely, but they are just that, platitudes and pathetic hand-wringing excuses from a company that has little or no interest in brewing ale, traditional, or otherwise.  I shan’t waste ink, or my time, by repeating them all here, although here’s a quick taste. “We can consolidate our brewing network to achieve greater efficiency and productivity supporting outgoing investment in our people and businesses.” The rest of this Orwellian themed double-speak is out there, all over the internet, should you desire to read it.

Moving on to books, and especially ones to read whilst away. "Cask – The real story of Britain’s unique beer culture," has just been published.  Written by respected London Pub Guide author, Des De Moor, Cask is a comprehensive, 334 page book about this country’s unique contribution to the world of beer. Within its pages, Des covers a wide array of beery topics, presented as a series of chapters with subject titles and a narrative about each. Strangely enough, Des turned up at the tour of Hukins Hops, I attended last year. One of the reasons he was there, was to gather further material for the book on Cask he was writing, so it will be interesting to see what he has to say about hops.

Veteran blogger Tandleman, gives a thoughtful, and well-balanced review of the book on his site, so it’s well worth taking a look, here. In the meantime, I have ordered a copy to take away and read on our forthcoming cruise, and I will let you know my thoughts, when I return. With the “C” season rapidly creeping up on us, Des’s book may well be the perfect present for the beer-lover in your life, so look out next month, and see what I have to say.

 

Wednesday 13 September 2023

Wiesn-Tragerl from Kalea - a real bargain at Lidl

Last Thursday morning I saw a tip off on one of the CAMRA WhatsApp groups I belong to. It concerned some special presentation packs of Bavarian Festbiers that were on sale at Lidl. The person who notified members of the group about these beers claimed they were selling fast, and urged those who wished to acquire a pack, to get down to Lidl’s quickly, before stocks ran out. 


Although I was definitely interested, I had other things to do that morning, and if truth be known thoughts of these Bavarian beers had vanished from my mind. My carefully laid plans that morning were thrown into disarray, by young Matthew who asked if I could run him over to Tunbridge Wells, to collect his car that had he’d dropped off at the main dealership for a check-up, the previous day. It was only during the return journey, that the idea diverting into Lidl entered my mind.  

Luck was on my side that morning and there still a number of these special packs left, although I imagine if I’d left it a day longer, they would all have gone. I left the store as a happy bunny, despite being twenty-five quid lighter, but to someone who enjoys German beer, what I purchased was worth its weight in gold. As you can see from the photo the pack contained 10 x 500 ml bottles and according to the blurb on the side, all are beer specialties from privately owned breweries.

The people behind this promotion might be pushing the point somewhat with one of the beers - Hofbrรคu Oktoberfest, as the brewery is owned by the Bavarian state, but leaving ownership issues aside, there are no foreign investors involved with the company. The other offerings are all, in the main, produced by small to medium family brewers all based in Bavaria. The pack itself represented good value at £24.99, so for a fraction under £2.50 a bottle, I now possess a variety of beers that are probably hard to come by in Bavaria (unless you know where to look), let alone south east England.

Most of the beers are marked up as either Mรคrzen or Festbier. Mรคrzenbier is German for “March beer,” and is a golden to deep amber lager style with a full body and a moderate bitterness. It closely resembles Vienna lager, a copper to reddish brown coloured beer that is characterized by a malty aroma and slight malt sweetness. Until the final quarter of the last century, Mรคrzen was the dominant style of beer served at Munich’s Oktoberfest, but gradually the beer was superseded by Festbier, which although brewed to a similar abv of around 6% strength, is a more normal golden-yellow in colour.

It was developed by the Munich-based Paulaner brewery during the early 1970’s and gained rapidly in popularity following its first appearance at the event, due to it being easy to drink and its attractive appearance. By the 1990’s all beer served at Oktoberfest was Festbier, and Mรคrzen had been officially replaced. Fortunately, a couple of Mรคrzenbiers are included amongst the 10 beers that are neatly packed in the sturdy presentation box, which comes complete with a carrying handle plus the Bavarian emblazoned across the front of the pack.

It was only after opening the box that I discovered the enclosed booklet, which I thought would give some specific details about the various beers in the pack, but instead gives more general information about tasting and beer appreciation.  It also tells the reader about Kalea, the company behind the pack. Kalea is derived from the Hawaiian word meaning “to give joy” and the Kalea company was founded in 2010, in Salzburg Austria. Starting with a beer advent calendar, the company became the first German language beer writing platform, and they now also provide micro and gypsy brewers with a platform where they can promote their speciality beers.

I haven’t looked any of the beers yet, and the only ones I am familiar with are the Hofbrรคu Oktoberfest beer, plus one from Schneider, who are exclusively a wheat beer brewery, plus Bischofshof from Regensburg. I shall certainly enjoy getting stuck in to these beers during the approaching winter months, but for the time being I intend leaving the pack unopened.

For the record, and for those who like these sorts of details, the beer specialities contained in the pack are:

 Wildbrรคu Grafing - Kirtabier Mรคrzen 5.7%

Ettl BrรคuTeisnacher 1543 Festmรคrzen 5.4%

Hohenthanner Schlossbrauerei - Mรคrzen Festbier 5.6%

Erl BrรคuErlkรถnig Festbier 6.1%

FalterPichelsteiner Festbier 5.9%

Bischofshof - Original Festbier 5.4%

Schlossbrauerei IrlbachIrlbacher Premium 5.8%

Kuchlbauer - Gillamoos Bier 5.2%

SchneiderFestweisse 6.2%

Hofbrรคu - Oktoberfesbier 6.3%

Saturday 9 September 2023

In praise of the public bar

I first started going in pubs when I was aged 16 going on 17. I can't remember the first pub that I had a drink in, but it was almost certainly one in Ashford, the town where I went to school and grew up in, but it would have been a place where underage drinkers could be served alcohol, without too many questions being asked. My friends and I we're under 18, and whilst physically a number of us looked old enough to drink, I imagine our behaviour would have given the opposite impression.

The pub was probably the long-demolished Park Hotel, a traditional, multi bar establishment, that had seen better days. The pub was under threat of closure and demolition, to make way for Ashford’s new shopping centre, which explains the lack of investment.  Shortly afterwards my friends and I gravitated to the Invicta, a three-storey, corner pub in the Godington Road area of the town.

It was named after Invicta, the White Horse of Kent, and was the pub where our friend Roy drank. His parents were regulars there, which was probably why we were allowed to drink there. John, the landlord, and his wife Mary knew we weren’t old enough to imbibe, but as long as we behaved, the couple were content with our presence. The Invicta was owned by Courage who, along with Whitbread, operated the majority of Ashford's pubs

We occasionally frequented the Bybrook Tavern, another Courage house in the nearby suburb of Kennington. Despite its ancient appearance, the Bybrook Tavern was a relatively recent addition to the town's stock of pubs, having been converted from a couple of old cottages back in the 1960’s. Today, it is part of the adjoining, and recently opened, Holiday Inn, but still retains the name of the former pub for the bar area. 

I remember Roy issuing a reminder, in advance of a group of us meeting up at the Bybrook, that “Shirts will be worn! This was a reference to a sign put up by the pub landlord, a former military man, as were many licenses in the decades following WWII. The major, quite rightly wasn't enamoured with the presence in his pub of builders, tradesmen and other labourers, stripped to the waist, during hot weather. These were the sort of people my father described as “sweaty oafs,” so even within the confines of the public bar, or pub garden, I wholeheartedly agree with the landlord’s sentiments.  

The era I'm talking about was the early 1970s, a time when both the country as a whole, and places like Ashford were undergoing major change. The pubs hadn't changed much, apart from perhaps the switchover to keg or top pressure beers, so the interior of many of them was much as it would have been in the two or three decades that followed the Second World War. Almost without exception, every pub had more than one bar, usually a Public and Saloon bar. A handful offered additional drinking areas, called either Private or Snug Bar, and my favourite example of this was a smashing late Victorian pub, close to Ashford town centre, called the Lord Roberts.

The Lord Roberts boasted a small and cosy Private Bar, sandwiched between Public Bar at the front of the pub and the Saloon at the rear. The only access was externally, from the alleyway, at the side of the building. From the time I could drink legally in pubs, the Lord Roberts became one of my favourite watering holes in the town, and if you were lucky enough have a girlfriend, it was a place to take her for a quiet and respectable drink. Unfortunately, the Lord Roberts fell victim to Ashford Borough Council’s wrecking ball, as it was demolished to make way for service road, for a hideous Y-shaped monolithic office block, constructed in the heart of the town.

The reasons why so many pubs had different bars during that period, reflects the way in which the public house evolved over the centuries. Writer and columnist, Richard Boston devotes several pages to the subject, in his excellent book Beer and Skittles, and he covers in some depth, the differences between the various bars, and the way in which they developed.   

My own memories from that time, are that public bars were often rather basic, with a tiled or lino floor covering, or even just plain wooden boards. There wasn't much in the way of wall coverings either, although sometimes there was painted matchboard at the base, below a wooden dado rail. The upper half of the walls, was normally bare plaster, painted in colours ranging from cream and pale yellow, through to various shades of dark brown. 

Boston describes this effect as a “Symphony in Brown” but, as others pointed out, these are the colours of beer ranging from pale ales, through to bitters and stouts. The darker colours were often reserved for the matchboard section of the lower half. Public bars tended to be male dominated or had a preponderance of men - the classic, “lads of the village” type of thing, and were also home to traditional pub games, such as darts, bar-billiards, dominoes, or cards - the latter being strictly non-gambling games, of course. 

Perversely, despite their male dominance, public bars were often looked after by a female member of staff, most of whom suffered no nonsense from any of the customers, regardless of their sex. 

One example I recall well, was the Dog & Bear at Lenham, a large village between Ashford and Maidstone. The Dog & Bear was formerly a coaching inn, and like most pubs at the time, had two bars. The Public bar was called "Joyce's Bar", whilst the Saloon was called "Squirrel’s Bar" after the nickname of the characterful landlord, with his trademark handlebar moustache and mutton-chop whiskers. So Squirrel looked after Saloon, with its preponderance of female drinkers, whilst his wife Joyce kept stock of the male dominated Public Bar.

Saloon bars were nearly always carpeted and were decorated with much more ornate wall-coverings, including that ghastly gold and burgundy, "flock wallpaper" that became all the rage as the 1970’s drew on. The seating too was more comfortable, compared to the rather basic wooden bench seating and chairs, traditionally found in the public bar. In the saloon the chairs and benches would be covered and padded, providing seating that was far more comfortable, and also appealing to women. If you wanted a lunchtime or evening meal, this would normally be served in the saloon bar, unless of course the pub had its own separate restaurant.

When I went up to Manchester to study at Salford University, I had to get used to a whole new vocabulary when it came to pubs. Public bars were invariably known as the Vault, whereas saloon bars were more likely described as the Lounge Bar. Some northern pubs had a Smoking Room, and I recall one establishment that even had a Reading Room. If anything, the Vaults in some of these straight-talking northern towns, were even more male dominated then their southern counterparts.

The same situation applied in the small number of pubs the operated an exclusively male vault. Women were barred from the vault, in these places, and I remember as a student, taking part in a demonstration against such obvious examples of sexual discrimination. Several months later legislation was brought in outlawing, such practises. This, of course, was a result of pressure being applied in parliament, rather than a scruffy bunch of students conducting an impromptu protest!

Despite the claims of some historians, separate bars for different sectors of society was not an anachronistic survivor from a class-ridden age. Instead, there were sound practical reasons behind the styling of the different bars. Public bars, for example, were often frequented by men in overalls, covered in dust or plaster from nearby building sites. These were working people who would drop in for a quick pint, either at lunchtime, or on their way home. It wouldn’t have been practical for them to go home and get changed first.

Conversely, city business men, dressed in expensive suits, want to be rubbing shoulders with other men, or women, wearing the same attire, rather than with tradesmen straight off the construction site. This is just one example of the benefits of a multi-bar pub, and another one that Richard Boston was keen to remind us of was, prices were usually lower in the public bar. As stated earlier, the public bar was traditionally the place where games were played. In addition, if a pub has two bars regardless of what they might be called, it is relatively easy to avoid a group of people or an individual you don't particularly like, but the most important factor for a traditional pub is it’s a place where people can feel at home.

Despite these sound reasons for retaining multi-bar pubs, their numbers have continue to dwindle. Back in the mid 1970’s, when Boston was writing his book, the trend towards the abolition of the public bar and it's replacement by a barn-like interior was on the up. Unfortunately, that trend continued to gather pace, steadily but also stealthily, so much so that many of us didn't even notice it happening. Eventually a tipping point was reached, and now multi bar pubs are very much the exception rather than the rule, certainly in this part of the country.

I have however felt heartened after recent visits to towns and cities such as Bath, Burton-on-Trent, Sheffield, Henley on Thames, Norwich and of course Manchester. If you know where to look, and you're a connoisseur of good pubs you can still find pubs offering a variety of different rooms to drink in, including some with traditional public bars, so good hunting!

 

Wednesday 6 September 2023

In anticipation?

With just 25 days to go before Mrs PBT’s and I depart on what, for us, will be the longest holiday we’ve ever taken, and the most time we’ve spent away from home, excitement is beginning to mount – palpably. Unlike my good lady wife, who’s been amassing whole collections of garments to parade herself around in, I haven’t given much thought at all, as to what to wear. 

I don’t think it’s sexist to say that things are a whole lot easier for us fellas, but several casual shirts, a few T-shirts, two or three pair and trousers – pants, for any Americans out there, a fleece, to guard against chilly evenings at sea, or ashore, should the weather turn, plus a raincoat, will suffice, as far as I am concerned. I will probably also take my suit, plus the odd smart shirt, in case we decide to dress up posh – dinner at the captain’s table and all that.

A pair of bino’s is always good, when coming into port, or leaving for that matter, plus a couple of books to lose myself in, although to avoid being described as “anti-social”, I don’t want to overdo the reading matter. There is also the matter of a laptop, so for days at sea, I can get a few blog posts typed up. On the last two cruises, I brought my late mother’s ancient Toshiba laptop along, but it takes ages to boot up, is annoyingly slow, and is portable, in name only – in other words, it weighs a ton!

It's treat time then, and buy myself a new one, but with the age-old problem of far too much choice, I’m struggling to find one suitable, not just whilst onboard ship, but one that will be useful in other situations. We’ve got a couple of nice, lightweight, Hewlett Packard machines at work, small and compact with a 13.5” screen, and easy to carry too, but most of the laptops the geeky “tech-guys” at Curry’s are trying to sell me, have larger screens, plus processing speeds designed for spotty gaming nerds, as opposed to slowly aging beer and travel enthusiasts, rapidly approaching the end of their seventh decade on planet earth.

Powerful, hi-spec machines command high-end prices, which is not what I want, but with only three weekend left, before departure, time is running out for making that all important purchasing decision. It’s also Mrs PBT’s birthday next week, but apart from a small token on the actual day, I might leave the buying of her main present, until we are safely onboard the cruise ship.

Going back to the packing, for a moment, whilst I still prefer to travel light, with no limit on the amount of luggage that can be taken on board (within reason), the temptation to pack too much remains. My good lady wife may well take advantage of this allowance.  If you’ve ever seen the episode of “Keeping up Appearances” where the Buckets, "it’s Bouquet, actually", embark on a cruise with several trolley loads of suitcases, plus the odd hat box or three, you will know what I mean. Poor Richard was left struggling to manoeuvre the trolleys, whilst domineering Hyacinth implored him to get a move on. It won’t be like that, even though it remains as a dark thought at the back of my mind!

The cruise has been long in the planning, having been booked as far back as February, but with the option of paying in installments, without incurring any interest charges, this pay as you go option, has worked to our advantage, and meant there was no dipping into savings. Being away from work for three working weeks, meant a request for special dispensation from the company, but with plenty of notice, and a written letter of permission, everything is set as far as my employer is concerned.

Both Eileen and I have been counting the calories, in what so far has been a successful bid to shed a few pounds. I appreciate that food onboard ship is almost limitless in its supply, but on last summer’s Norwegian cruise, neither of us gained any weight. Portion control, combined with healthy eating and plenty of onboard exercise – circuits around the promenade deck and using the stairs rather than the lifts, all help and then there’s all that fresh sea air.

As with previous cruises, we shall embark at Southampton, and this means driving down the day before and an overnight stay, close to the port. We’ve booked a package whereby we can leave the car at the hotel, for the duration of the cruise, with pre-paid transfers by taxi, to and from the cruise terminal, included. A number of well-known “chain hotels” offer these packages, and we’ll be staying at a different one this time.

The Holiday Inn, on the edge of Winchester, has proved the best so far, with the Double Tree by Hilton, on the edge of Southampton less so. None of this really matters, because all these hotels are much of a muchness, and we’re only spending one night there anyway. The only slight concern I have is will the car start, after 19 days standing idle?

As previously, Matthew will be in charge of the house, whilst we’re away, and jokes about wild parties aside, having the place to himself for a long period of time, will be a good break for him, along with the chance of clearing out accumulated “junk” from his room, and keeping the house in good order, ready for our return. That’s it for the time being, and now it’s just a question of keeping our heads down and waiting for the end of the month.

 

 

Saturday 2 September 2023

Finally, the Chafford Arms

Have you ever been in one of those situations where there's a pub you've been longing to visit, and somehow, despite your best efforts, circumstances and situations seem to work against you. You end up being thwarted, sometimes even at the last minute, and before you realise months or even years have passed by, and you still haven’t paid the place a visit. It’s even worse when the pub is a local one, and there’s been no real excuse why you couldn’t have visited it before.

One such pub, that is only about 8 miles away from here, is the Chafford Arms at Fordcombe - a small village, situated between Penshurst and Groombridge. The Chafford is an attractive, part brick and part stone, tile-hung pub dating back to the middle of the 19th Century which stands on the edge of Fordcombe, at the top of the steep and aptly named Spring Hill. There is an extensive garden at the rear of the pub, affording fine views over the upper Medway Valley.  

I've known the Chafford Arms on and off, for the past 20 years or so, but looking back, the last time I visited the pub was in 2010. That was when a small group of us walked there from Tunbridge Wells, following a route that took us out across the town's extensive common. Earlier, the same year, I called in at the Chafford, with a friend, whilst walking the Weald Way long distance footpath. On that particular occasion, Eric and I stopped at the pub for lunch, after setting off earlier that morning, from our homes in Tonbridge. We were looking to complete what, for us, would be the third stage of the walk, after setting off two days previously from the start of the Weald Way on the banks of the Thames estuary, at Gravesend.

We were heading for the tiny hamlet of Withyham where we would spend the night, before carrying on towards the end of the trail at Eastbourne. The Chafford Arms was the ideal stopping off point, and somewhere we could get a meal, sink a couple of pints, and refill our water bottles. I therefore retained fond memories of the pub, particularly as both the food and the beer, were top class, on both previous visits. Given all those years in between, it's surprising I hadn't managed a return visit, but the Chafford is not that easy to reach by public transport (it's not impossible, but there's only one viable bus in each direction, during daylight hours, and none at all of course in the evening).

It’s a traditional pub in every sense of the word, meaning that it closes between 3 and 6 pm, so this is another thing to factor in when planning a visit. Matthew and I attempted one about a year ago but were unable to get in the car park. Thinking back, it was a Sunday, which probably wasn't the wisest of moves, as the Chafford is popular with diners at the weekend. Another point to bear in mind is the pub is closed on Mondays, as Matthew and I discovered a couple of months ago. Perhaps you’ll appreciate now, whilst it’s taken so long to achieve that return visit.

As luck would have it, Thursday evening provided the ideal opportunity. Mrs PBT’s was meeting up with a group of her girly friends for a meal at the Ivy House pub in Tonbridge, so after dropping her and two of her mates off at the pub, Matthew and I were free to head out to Fordcombe. I took the precaution of phoning in advance because I didn't want to be disappointed again, but Thursday proved a quiet night, possibly due to the dampness of the weather and the fall in temperature. The last day of August and the last day of summer, proved something of a damp squib, as could be said the summer in general.

We arrived at the Chafford bang on the dot of our stated arrival time, and we were obviously expected. A table for two had been laid out in a section of the Lounge Bar, and after a group of diners seated, a short distance away, finished their meal and departed, we had that particular part of the pub to ourselves. A couple of young female graduates were sat in the area behind us. I know they were graduates because they’d been talking about coursework and final examinations, and we couldn’t help overhearing their conversation, but apart from the two ladies, we had the bar to ourselves.

Things were different in the Public Bar, where there seemed to be quite a lot of laughter and banter going on. I'm delighted to say that the Chafford has that rarest of things these days, namely two bars, although some of us are old enough to remember when two or more bars in a pub, was the norm. It’s no exaggeration to say that having two, or sometimes even more bars in a pub was a good idea, and the misguided brewers, pub companies and private landlords who knocked down the dividing walls, to create a barn-like space, in the name of egalitarianism, have a lot to answer for.

I didn't recognise the landlady, but I certainly recognised her husband, due to his distinctive Geordie accent. Having just two cask ales on the bar seems to work well for the pub, with Larkin’s Traditional and Harvey’s Sussex Best representing a line-up that has been unchanged for many years, and I'm pretty certain this choice has not changed since my last visit 13 years ago. I went for Harvey’s, which was in fine form, whilst Matthew, who had to be different, went for an Amstel.

Food wise I opted for the fish pie, always a favourite in my book. Matthew chose scampi and chips, and his plate was really piled high with both chips and Dublin Bay prawns (was that really what people used to call scampi?). The fish pie was excellent - smoked cod, salmon & crayfish in a creamy sauce topped with cheesy mash, according to the menu, served with fresh steamed vegetables, for those who like to get their five a day.

The pub itself was spotlessly clean and well kept, with a friendly welcome and a good all-round ambience. For those not offended by 1960’s seaside postcards, there was some really corny examples in the gents. I couldn’t resist a photo, so for fans of “toilet porn” here are a few relics from a bygone, and much simpler age. We didn’t venture into the Public Bar, on this occasion, but as I discovered, 13 years ago, it’s ideal for walkers – with potentially muddy boots, people with dogs, or just those who appreciate slightly simpler and more basic surroundings.

Matthew, who was rather dismissive when I suggested a visit, “it’s never open,” was his comment, ended up being won over, and I shall also be taking Mrs PBT’s along to the Chafford, next time she fancies a meal out. The ladies she dined with, that same evening, were also full of praise for the Ivy House, so perhaps after a slightly bumpy recent history, that pub is also delivering in terms of good food and ambience – no reports about the beer, though!