However, we went to a couple of pubs and The Sister's Fiancé is an aficianado of same, having been a chef in pretty much every pub between Banbury and the Lake District.
Pubs are definitely not bars; people go to pubs to watch the football, have a pint before going home or go there for supper. In a lot of ways pubs are like Spur (God help them). They're even franchised out; one of the most common lot are Hungry Horse which seem to be everywhere and come complete with jungle gyms outside and cherry machines inside.
What did intrigue me is that everything is self-service. Food or drink, you go to the counter and order it and then they bring it out (with a poor attitude I hasten to add). You don't even tip the barman for drinks. When I asked The Sister's Fiancé if I should he practically recoiled in horror so no wonder everybody working there would rather be elsewhere.
Atmospheres vary. There was the decorated-by-an-eccentric-aunt-and-her-scruffy-mutt-who-came-to-visit-at-the-table one in Pangbourne amd the run of the mill one on the way to Banbury where you had to wait for the leeks to grow and the potato famine to end before you got your soup.
On our way back from Chawton (Jane Austen's home - the signpost for Hampshire says "Welcome to Jane Austen country", how cool is that) The Parents and I visited Watership Down. We found this pub on our previous family holiday when I was 11. It was an accidental discovery brought on by six people crammed into a peugeot cramping at once. It's lovely, with a beautiful view and chickens scuttling about. There used to be bunnies around the back but the waitress told us they'd pegged it and the staff now prefer poultry. I was struck by the lovely conservatory-type dining room and the retro 60's toilet seat cover decorated with perspex flowers. And of course the Ploughman's Lunch. The most wonderful lunch imaginable with gherkins, pickled onions, pate, cheese and Branston Pickle, washed down with a nice cold Strongbow Cider. Made up completely for the lack of bunnies.
The other pub that I'll remember is lovely for other reasons. The Sister, Fiancé and I all went to this place in Stratford and munched an awesome lunch. In that moment, when we were just talking, rubbish and otherwise, I thought: this is my family.
This is my family waiting for potato and leek soup. The Mother, The Sister and I get giggly:
The Sister and The Sister's Fiancé get nauseating:
The Father just keeps his head down:
6 comments:
Before there are any complaints about the dodgy quality of my photos, blame photoshop. There's nothing I can do about it. This is just one more of the problems with working on macs in a pc world.
Your dad looks angry, like he's about to thump the people who are taking so long to bring out your food.
euuuwww strongbow. Cider equivalent of Castle. Bleagh.
I really like strongbow; probably cause it's not as sweet as other ciders. And I'm really into fosters. It's the only good thing to ever come out of Australia.
i would just like to say, that i have great affection for the rat on a friday afternoon. considering that we always spend every friday there on the new improved deck or outside. plus where else can you get a chicken burger, salad and chips for R18.50. nowhere! and its really good. I challenge the pubs in england to be half as good as the dear old rat.Plus if you wait long enough and drink enough youre eventually going to see some pyscho grahamstown local wearing rabbit ears and spouting shakespeare. Long live Grahamstown, who needs the culture of england when we have Rhodes drama and (in)elegantly wasted rhodents.
Where is part the third? In particular I'm waiting for a more complete description of the peanut butter-filled KitKat.
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