#pub review

Edinburgh is a gorgeous city with tons to offer for first time visitors and locals alike. On my second visit to this city I was on a mission, nay, a journey, to experience Edinburgh through its many pubs and local watering holes. I loved hopping from pub to pub and experiencing the unique atmosphere in each one- not to mention the history! Some of these pubs are older than America. It’s…

Updated Review - Duke of York *****

Update review now online, here’s the summary:

Situated in a prime location on King’s Square on the site of a former estate agents you would never know that The Duke of York wasn’t always a pub. The sense from entering is that it has such a welcoming and homely atmosphere that’d you’d believe it had been established for years. With low black beamed ceilings, wood floors and an open brick fireplace amongst the warren of cosy little rooms adorned pictures it has the feel of a slightly steam punk country pub. Beautifully lit with vintage Edison style lighting it generates a kind of atmosphere that is attractive to a good range of clientele. It can be peaceful and secluded in one of the sides rooms, private and relaxing in the first floor dining rooms or busy and bustling in the main entrance bar.

With 12 casks and 6 kegs you'll never be short of choice, featuring predominantly Leeds Brewery and Cameron's beers with a couple of good guests to make up the numbers all at normal city centre prices. With their latest refurbishment in 2018 the most noticeable change is the new toilets, a much larger modern space which is a vast improvement over the old ones. Access to the ground floor is very good although the narrowness of the rooms and first floor access could be a little problematic. Unfortunately there is no outside space as York Council denied them use of any of King's Square, which is a big shame but considering what else the Duke has to offer with acoustic music nights, quizzes and regular Tap Takeovers there's plenty else to keep you entertained.

All in all the Duke of York is exactly what we look for in a pub, a warm atmosphere, thoughtful decor, extremely friendly and helpful staff and a good enough range of quality beer to keep you there for couple of pints. The food is pretty top notch too, but that's by the by. The Duke firmly remains as one of our best pubs in York and deservedly retains our 5/5 status. We'll be back again soon.

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Updated Review - The Cross Keys ****

Update review now online, here’s the summary:

The Cross Keys is a grand example of a Victorian corner pub situated on the busy thoroughfare of Goodramgate in full view of the East Wing of The Minster. As a Nicholson’s run establishment it retains all its history while being fresh and modern, they clearly invest a lot in its upkeep as can be seen from the regular refurbishments. The Main room is a large airy space with traditional pub seating, predominantly round the edges leaving plenty of standing room at the large L shaped bar. This in turn is extremely well stocked, with 12 hand pumps and 17 taps. It’s mostly safer standard ales and your usual commercial brews, but with so much to choose from you’ll definitely find a few things to keep you interested.

Prices are about average for the location. The main room also has a couple of TV screens for sport and is certainly more of a drinking area, whereas if you follow the bar round there are a series of smaller rooms with a more cosy intimate atmosphere that in turn leads you out to their reasonably sized yard. This is where you'll get those prized views of The Minster and even a bit of cover from a smart wrought iron canopy. Access throughout is superb with plenty of space although the toilets are situated on the first floor they are some of the plushest we've seen in York. As an all-round traditional pub The Cross Keys ticks all the right boxes, family friendly, good food, large range of beers, separate spaces for sport, dining and alfresco. It's a smart looking but fairly straightforward pub that lives up to the usual standards of a Nicholson's.

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WETHERSPOONS PART 1  Spoons. We’ve all been there. Cavernous yellow light waiting rooms of despair. Now hang on a minute, let us not get too macabre. They're alright, y'know. On paper at least, the set list is tight. It's a tour de force. They're opening with £2.19 pints of super chilled Guinness on a Monday? My god, where do they go from here? No fear, straight into a faithful £1.99 rendition of Sixpoint's seminal craft can hit, Bengali. It must be downhill from here, right? The behemoth don't quit! Look, she slid some churros under your nose for a £2 bit of sugar at track 3. And so on, and so on. Greatest gig of my life, every night.

It's so silent in here. They famously don't play music. They do show football and other sports, but with no sound. Gives it an eerie feel if you're sat out of sight of the TVs but in view of whoever is watching them. They look like they're gazing motionless into the abyss. Any one of these drinkers looks like they might rise, at any given moment, and go throttle their neighbour unknowingly. Quite often you'll get  a mid range couple chobbling on a couple of pints, no conversation nor interaction, but each gazing off stage somewhere. Took me a while to remember there was a football match on. What the hell are they looking at, I thought. How are so many of these no-talking couples just sat rigid staring off in disparate directions. How are they all waiting for death?

It feels like we're in an airport, or worse, with this yellowing light that's bathing everything in hopelessness. Argh God, the silence. The servers become prison wardens, the jangle of their keys mid-parade the only semi-noise that rises above the sad silent seas. Even the food is silent. Who gets crisps when the hot stuff is this cheap? I long to hear the sound of a crisp shattering, a fat fist struggling inside ambient foils. All the hot stuff is designed for no note consumption, I'm sure of it. The nachos are an obvious sticking point for that conspiracy but I feel they pile enough pulled pork, or five bean chilli, atop the tortillas that shards and chaos become soft and safe. Even the fruit machines are silent. Did they turn the brightness down? They don't seem anywhere near as abrasive under these yellow lights. Not that you'd need to wait for them to pay out, it's a jackpot win every time you go to the bar. It's so cheap in here. The meal and drink combos verge on indecent.

The craft beer offering, varying between 'spoons, is oft strong. Be careful to sidestep the 'fake' craft that makes out like it's imported but is actually brewed in Shitchester, UK, by a major(ly crap) brewery. Not that it's awful but they do taste like two beers piled on top of each other, the one on top is good but then the one underneath is a rotter. The aforementioned Sixpoint cans are decent, particularly Bengali. I've also seen Stone, Anchor Steam Porter, Founders All Day IPA, Roosters, others. Occasionally some of these have a quid or more knocked off. As if they weren't cheap enough already. It's often cheaper in 'spoons for craft than it is for premium lagers et al. Bonkers.  

One header on the 'spoons drinks menu reads "avoid isolation - join our congregation", hmm. Other words speak of relocating "pre drinks" (if you've ever proposed that notion unironically then you're probably a dick) to 'spoons. They're trying to become the drink-in supermarket by being cheaper than the supermarket. Interesting stuff. I guess they keep it cheap so you come for the prices but then also stay for the prices. It might take you three hours to spend £20 but then you'll probably stay enough three hours and eat 20 burgers. Clever Trevor.

Wetherspoons is the death row of pubs.

What are you in for, mate?

Beer and a burger.

How long have you been here?

Seven years.

It's got that IKEA trick of no daylight so time loses all meaning. Having said that, most do have windows but you're prolly sat so far away from them that they look like specks of a brighter younger self on the horizon.

Is that...me over there? Running, dancing, full of beans? Look at my skin! I'm shimmering. It was before the yellowing. Curse these yellow lights. I only came here for a beer and a burger.

Occasionally someone breaks the silence. Lad-like, dead rowdy. It rises above the melange. Stiff peaks on the soundboard. This isn't in the Wetherspoon design. This fellow is bellowing. I can't see him, I'm on level 2 and he's below. Sounds like chaos on the deck, mutiny. What could possibly be his grievance? How dare he come in here, into this plateau of silent contention, these rolling no-hills of emphatic price points, and raise...a stink? I think that's what it used to be called. I don't remember. I only came in here for a beer and a burger. Too much of a good thing, I guess. That must be the only reasonable assumption. I shouldn't worry, we've seen this before. They'll take care of it.

10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...it's over.

He stopped. Someone, or something, sucked him under the carpet.

I turn, half laughing in my head, and catch sight of old Irish in the corner. He half laughs back at me, in his head, and let's out a knowing wink. We didn't have to say anything, besides the fact we couldn't, we just knew. Order was resumed.

Arriving at the train station after a hard days work to see the timetable painted with delays and cancellations will bring horror to most peoples lives, but since I started commuting from Charing Cross, I’ve welcomed these problems with open arms, whilst heading straight to The Beer House.