Later on the way back across the M62 I spot a second Bass-signed pub somewhere in a village on the border of Yorkshire and Lancashire. “Like buses these Bass pubs” I tell myself. Nice to see the logo still peeping into modern life despite it’s fall from grace.

And then we nip to our local Toby Carvery (and my interesting first pint for Cask Ale Week) the only place in our area you can rely on (semi-decent at best) food on a Sunday evening. As we leave to retire to a re-run of Desperate Housewives and an early night, I somehow can’t miss the framed beer pictures in the entrance hall. Bass, naturally, albeit less fancy type face, but plenty of that brand-building triangular logo.

Bet I won’t see or here another Bass reference for months now…

You might have to change your pronunciation to get it...

Six brown bottles...all Bass of course

Under the scaffolding may or may not be the Bass signage that caught my attention

The Hop, live music and real ale pub opening in Leeds this March

Wakefield’s finest are coming to Leeds in the guise of The Hop, the live music and real ale venue of Ossett Brewery’s pub armada. Situated in the Granary Wharf area of Leeds overlooking the reinvigorated quayside, The Hop will sit under two of the previously disused railway arches that are tucked away between the confluence of the Leeds-Liverpool canal and the River Aire.

I’ve been watching the empty unit over the last few weeks and months, gradually turning from a blank canvas to a vaguely pub-like skeleton as I pass by. Today’s walk to the bank was considerably brightened by the sight of a new sticker in the window, shouting loudly ‘Opening on Friday 26th March!’

The Hop will take the tally of great pubs within a five minute walk of where I work to new heights, with the ‘thes’ of Grove, Commercial, Adelphi, Cross Keys and Midnight Bell fame all located a short stumble from each other.

Photos by me and my good friend Rick

Bridgewater Place towers over Granary Wharf form across the Leeds-Liverpool canal and is one of the views from The Hop. Pic (c) Mark Fletcher 2010

The 3 new buildings and canal basin at Granary Wharf near Leeds train station. Left to right: Candle House (apartments), City Inn (hotel) and Watermans Place (apartments). Pic (c) Rick Harrison 2010

The striking angular form of Waterman's Place at Granary Wharf, just a moment's walk from the site of The Hop. Pic (c) Rick Harrison 2010

Opposite, with one side to the road and the other to the lane, was The Plough. Old Jim who ran it was an irritable character, reminiscent of a grumpy adult from a Roald Dahl book. He even looked like he’d been hand drawn by Quentin Blake, all crooked lines and scruffily shaded in. Jim brewed himself (not a beer I would part with hard earned cash for!) and held a beer festival of sorts each year. The pub had no telly, a few handpulls and served food on tables built from ancient Singer sewing machines.

Less than a very short stones throw away was the pub I spent most time in, The Bakers (officially The Bakers Arms). I played for the pool team, had a brief stint behind the bar for a few months and learnt to play 3s and 5s with Mo the landlady. The bar was small, with an even smaller lounge to one side and down a hall a smaller again pool room. Atleast 3 Leeds fans frequented it and whilst the beer was all kegged big brand brews, there was one handpull (Hooky or a cask from one of the larger national breweries). I learned to drink with John Smiths smooth, Snakebite & Black (or Diesel if you prefer) and cold, crisp Carling –  valuable lessons for my first weeks at university.

There were weeks I’d not step in The Plough or the Jockey at all, and then days where I’d do all three. Each one was different and each one had different regulars. Each one also had drinkers who went through stages of favouritism and all had odd deserters who jumped ship from time to time. Each pub was needed and they are all still there, open for lunch and evenings where possible.

I returned this Christmas. Popping up the Bakers I bumped into two old friends within seconds. The sports teams still compete all through the week: darts, pool, dominoes, Aunt Sally in the summer and a weekly quiz. I spotted Scott, the pool team captain, still popping in for an after work pint. Mo, since retired, was starting up dominoes in the corner. Hannah was behind the bar. I nipped to The Plough with my Dad.  Surprisingly they’d invested in a single flat screen tv in the bar area and dolled up the lounge, it almost looked like a restaurant. Jim had handed over to his son and possibly even someone else since but no-one quite knew.

These pubs are real pubs. Community pubs. They don’t make huge margins on beer sales, no matter how its served or what brand it is. They feed the local football team on a Saturday, they play cards on a Friday; people go there for warmth, to imbibe and to leave the day or the week behind.

These pubs won’t win a CAMRA award. But they are the most important community centres in the area they serve.

Ok to be fair it’s this months ‘What’s Brewing’, but I love the story on page 10 about Martin Brunnschweiler.

More than a decade ago Martin went to visit his sister at her pub on the Isle of Man and ended up staying there to set up a brewery called Bushy’s. The paper is a bit hazy on the details (I’m intrigued as to whether he drank the pub dry and then set up because he was thirsty and what he left behind) but I like to think the Martin fell in love with the island, the pub, the atmosphere and the opportunity. His brewery has ties to the nuclear industry (and sounds like it could double up as a bunker should a Dr Strangelove armageddon arise) and the equipment is based on a headache inducing tower arrangement that requires a certain amount of agility from head brewer Curly (yes, Curly!).

The best I can do is that I have on two or more separate occasions walked into a pub and ended up 1) working behind the bar and 2) doing the dishes, but never quite made the leap to brewing.

Accidental brewer: Martin of Bushy's brewery on the Isle of Man

A new permanent ale to their armory is ‘Proud of Pubs Best’, a beer launched to support  The Publican’s ‘Proud of Pubs Week’ in July.  This appears to be the brewery’s attempt at traditional mild; a suprisingly rare approach these days by modern brewaries who tend to break away from the English traditions and throw more and more hops into ever-paler beers

The dark caramel colour looks like it should be surrounded by a fog of woodbine smoke, making me feel particularly underdressed without a flat capcovering my work-beaten head. It’s a terrific throw back.

A smokey-yellow head, perhaps more commonly seen on darker ales looks great and stays with the beer for the vast majority of the pint.

The malty aroma makes me anticipate a heavy ale that may be hard to stomach in a body used to lighter ales, but the toffee flavour and creamy mouthfeel dissipates with only the slighest of warm traces remaining in the throat.

If I’m honest, it’s a little warm today for such a style as this, but it manages to remain a strangely satisfying pint. As the cold winter nights approach, this is definately one I will be seeking out for a session.

In our quest for new and innovative beers, it is perhaps forgotten occaisionally that there is still a market for a good quality traditional mild. Sometimes it’s nice to be reminded!

http://www.viewleeds.co.uk/prizes/win-a-copy-of-a-new-book-on-londons-best-pubs-details-379.html

Gotta be worth an entry to complement my notebook for my next expedition to the capital!