When the secret society that is actually in charge of Reading* was deciding who should write reviews about the town, I definitely won. Restaurant reviewers can only realistically review one restaurant a night, and event reviewers need to wait for someone to organise an event. I however, as one of the officially appointed pub reviewers, am in the lucky position of being able to sample as many places in one night as my brain and liver will allow – yay! Of course, I won’t drink just one pint in a pub and move on – I need to sample a few to be fair. That means in reality that about three pubs a night is my upper limit, a limit I pushed in the next series of reviews.
*you didn’t think it was the council, did you? Continue reading “The Alehouse”
You know how sometimes you find a pub, and you think “that’s not where a pub should be”. Well, the White Horse in Emmer Green is like that. In fact there are two pubs opposite each other, The White Horse and The Black Horse. No other pubs for miles around, but two directly opposite each other. Continue reading “The White Horse”
When Big Gary said he was in the Clifton Arms to watch the football, I knew I had to double check. Last time I thought he said that it turned out that he was in the Prince Of Wales, and I simply couldn’t read. But no, this time he genuinely was there. Other than walking in by mistake and walking out again , I haven’t been to the Clifton Arms in some time, so with a little reluctance I agreed to join him. Why a little reluctance? In my mind it’s not the nicest pub in the area. But this time I was going with my reviewer’s hat on (that’s figurative – I’m not Sherlock Holmes), so in the interest of fairness all preconceptions were buried. Continue reading “The Clifton Arms”
The Nags Head has a reputation that’s hard to ignore as you set off for a review session. They have won pub of the year in Reading so many times that I’m not sure even they could tell you how many. I took a photo of their awards, thinking that I had done some sterling research, but then when I was at the bar I noticed that they have a bunch more hidden in the cider cupboard – too many to count.
Continue reading “The Nags Head”
“Fancy coming down the pub to watch the Champs League Finale?” asked Big Gary. I fancied at least half of that activity, and figured that I could have a nice drink and a chat while the football played in the background. I was even prepared to shout the occasional “come on ref” to fit in if necessary – I’m pretty good at picking an appropriate moment to do that. And it turns out Liverpool were playing. I had a Kevin Keegan pencil case when I was at primary school (one of those long ones that could fit a full length ruler), so to be honest it was all falling in to place for me. Continue reading “The Prince Of Wales”
The Caversham Rose (formerly The Grosvenor) is the only pub in Caversham Heights. Does that make it the most under-beveraged part of Reading? If you know anywhere more unfortunate areas in terms of numbers of pubs, let me know. Anyway, it’s Caversham Heights, so it must be a good pub, mustn’t it? Continue reading “The Caversham Rose”
I’m sitting in the garden, enjoying the late May sun, and thinking back over the pubs I’ve visited in the past few weeks. Of all of them, the Fisherman’s Cottage is the one that would draw me away from the garden to sit by the river on a nice sunny evening. Continue reading “The Fisherman’s Cottage”
Full disclosure – this review is based on a lunchtime visit to the Lyndhurst. Is that cheating, going at lunchtime? Perhaps, but Mrs. Quaff and I went to sample their reputedly good food, and it was an obvious opportunity to test out their beer credentials too. The Lyndhurst is apparently known locally as the Lyndie, according to a friend who used to live next door. Continue reading “The Lyndhurst”
After a warm sunny Friday, what better way to spend the evening than with a few pints with a friend, so when Mr. Affable messaged to see who was free I was on my way to the Fox & Hounds like a shot. It appears that half of Caversham had the same idea too, because the car park turned beer garden was heaving. Continue reading “The Fox and Hounds”