][1]There is a thirst-provoking piece in today’s Guardian about the perfect pub with people like Guy Garvey from Elbow and James Dean Bradfield of the Manics singing the virtues of their favourite boozer.
It also has Carl Barat, formerly of The Libertines, spraffing about his love of the French House in Soho while posing with a glass of brandy. I was completely ambivalent about Barat before reading his contribution and now feel a strange hatred for the man.
Anyway, the piece also has link to George Orwell’s classic essay on the pub: The Moon Under Water. Fair brings a tear to the eye.
I quite like a number of brash and bling city centre bars but I prefer my pubs a little worn around the edges. They’ve got to have a bit of character. A few real ales is a plus point along with some decent malts.
Good pub grub is a must and while music is fine, you have to be able to hold a conversation without the use of an ear trumpet.
All of which makes me sound as though I’m a couple of months off my bus pass.
This list changes on a fairly regular basis but, in Edinburgh, I’m a fan of the Cafe Royal, The Windsor and for something a little more lively, Joe Pearce’s.
In Glasgow, Rab Ha’s ticks a number of my boxes as does Black Sparrow and, if I can be bothered applying my fake tattoos, The Variety Bar.
Incidentally, we hear that the team behind the left bank and two figs is to open the bungo, a new Southside bar, over the weekend. More info on Monday.
To finish, what makes your perfect pub?
Great cocktail list and the latest chart hits or a promo on a hauf and a nip for the domino flyer?