We're tavern a laugh

A chastened Hempsall advances some whys and wherefores re: the plight of the pub

So the boss dragged me into his office after I filed last month.

Old Furry Face apparently didn’t like my constant “I had/they had, epicurean Tourette’s” and sent me to the inaugural Manchester Food & Drink Summit at The Ramada Piccadilly Hotel to “meet some real people” instead of “culinary naval gazing”.

In fairness, there was much to anticipate: industry heavyweights Jean Christophe Novelli, Matthew Fort, Paul Heathcote, Sheila Dillon and Tim Bacon plus break-outs and demos in-between.

The item closest to The Chimp’s heart, though, was the panel on the putative demise of the Great British Boozer. And what a thoughtfullyselected panel it was: Oliver Robinson of Robinson’s Brewery, Jan Rogers of Marble Brewery, Cleo Farman of Odd Group and John Quilter, former proprietor of now defunct Marmalade in Manchester 21.

John was a gift to this discussion if only for his brutal honesty. Let’s face it, who better to contribute to a debate on the death of any business than someone fresh from the coalface? He looked suspiciously healthier than when I last saw him, which just so happened to coincide with Marmalade in its death throes. Garner from that what you will.
He put the malaise partly down to the MMC’s decision to take pub ownership away from the breweries and into the hands of private companies before bravely admitting some of his own mistakes. He’d been, after all, fully cogniscent in signing a rather one-sided lease with landlords Punch Taverns… but this prefaced a sideswipe at former CEO Giles Thorley, whom he described as the sub-prime daddy of the licensed trade. Indeed, closer inspection reveals that shares in Punch have gone from £13 each down to 31p at the time of Mr Thorley’s resignation in March 2010.

By the same token, if you will insist on swimming with sharks…

There was operational input from both Cleo and Jan, two people who opened new, drink-led operations in the last 12 months, and their remarks put a positive spin on the current climate with regard to opening a new venture.

Everyone agreed some pubs deserve to close because the world has changed and they haven’t. No room for sentimentality there, then. Interestingly, while Oliver Robinson said he prided himself on the amount of pubs they’d kept open in difficult times, he also pointed out that, on the rare occasion they HAD announced a closure, locals might well be up in arms but on closer inspection, the most vociferous apparently never drank in the place. The panel also concurred that the smoking ban had had zero effect on their bottom line, and at least two of them enjoy a fag now and then to our knowledge, so no baccy-free evangilism here.

All this in front of over 300 people on one of the hottest days of the month.

After watching Lloyd Grossman rock out on electric guitar with his pub rock band – yes, honestly – there was nothing else for it but to head straight for a classic example of the English pub. So it was that we finished off at The Angel on Rochdale Road, just around the corner from The Band on the Wall.

This was mere days after they’d been awarded the Northern CAMRA Pub of the Year Award, and looking at the bar, it was easy to see how they’d clinched such a prestigious award. A bewildering display of perfectly kept, hand pulled bitters such as White Lion and Dinting Archer sat side by side with an unusual selection of lagers including Dortmunder and Mahou.

At least a taster from their tempting menu was in order so I tried the salmon and chive fishcakes. These were served promptly and tasted great. They were very light in consistency and the crumb coating was crisped to perfection. This was washed down with a large glass of Pinot Grigio. They’ve even opened a separate dining room upstairs to cater for people who’d rather eat way from the likes of us at the bar.

The Angel attracts its fair share of regulars and even has a baby grand piano and some sheet music for those who can’t resist the urge to burst into song after a few pints. For my part, once again I decided discretion was the better part of valour.