The Drake, 1 Lyndedoch Street, Glasgow G3 6EF
I’ve made a few references towards The Drake already but not given it the in depth-treatment (whatever that means). A recent Saturday gave me the chance to remedy that omission, and to see how the place is developing a few months in.
Halfway through a normal Saturday eve I arrived at the basement doorstep accompanied by LJ, who can count this joint as a local if he so wished. I noticed the recent utilisation of upstairs into a - now almost de rigueur- private dining space, or a way to charge that little bit more for the same food.
A few people were taking advantage of the pre-rain interval to sit at the front of the building in a pebble filled area below the street level, complete with decent quality furniture. Opting to try the back area instead we entered the bar to the sound of jazz. This form of music always divides opinion I reckon. Musical Marmite. One thing is definite, though, it keeps the neds away, especially in the live form as was happening in the adjoining room, the area predominantly occupied by diners.
But the wrong sort of clientele (if bar owners these days can be that choosy) is not likely to be a problem in this sophisticated space. Wooden floors and stylish use of deep browns and blacks create a homely yet smooth atmosphere. It looks like an expensive basement flat that happens to have more than one set of table and chairs. I guess that’s why I previously described it as a clubby, yet non-staid environment. And with the actual bar placed at the far end from the door, meaning you don’t immediately see it, then the impression is doubled that you have walked in on someone’s trendy abode.
The welcome I’ve received each time I’ve been in has dispelled this though, certainly no feeling of trespass. Same guy on the bar each time- he being one of the owners it seems – and every time a cheerful greeting, always a good start to any drinking experience. This evening it was a perfectly acceptable “How’s it going, guys?” but no recognition in his eyes. Bad for the ego, good for the reviews’ business.
LJ is not one for waxing lyrical on interiors but he did notice, without prompting, the various touches such as the palm leaf wallpaper, black beams, pink sphinx (yes, indeed!) and Easter Island masks. I was nodding, impressed by his observations, but impatient to show him the highlight of the place.
I led him past the bar and out the back. I felt like a child showing his wee pal a hidden Santa’s grotto. The area is improbably squeezed between the building and the back lane, a high wall trapping any sun that happens to be around. The area is enclosed by the screens you get on beaches and back garden decking areas.
I almost felt like opening my arms and saying “Ta, da….!” but LJ just gave the slightest head movement signalling appreciation. There were double figures out here, of different ages, but all looking comfortable with the place. The TV stuck against the back wall was off on this occasion. (Another time I watched Messi’s Argentina in bright sunshine, the glare putting me off, though not as much as they guy with the drill attaching various signs to the wall). Still, the TV is sheltered from any rain by a special shelf, which means that if you’re getting pissed on at least the TV is dry.
Talking of getting wet, the expected rain arrived. We could have sheltered in the covered passageway, right at the back door, but who knows, perhaps there is slightly more than 50% of that area enclosed, so rendering us liable for a fine from the roving smoking enforcement officers. If you ever see one let me know what they look like.
So back insid. The diners in the ‘jazz’ room seemed to be having a good time. Not surprising because the menu is an interesting little thing with a healthy lack of carbohydrates- an overabundance of these is a sure sign of an eatery on the make– and an imaginative interspersing of the drinks choices through that of the food.
The food-hatch is obtrusive though, placed too near the bar counter. And on a previous lunchtime visit the chefs in their less than pristine whites were too visible also. Unlike some folk I don’t want to see a joint’s inner-workings, back of house, the bowels of the kitchen, forgive the metaphor.
This is a small complaint though, because The Drake is a good place to sit and eat at any time of day, from brunch - just don't order their eggs benedict - to dinner.
It was well past dinner time now though so me and LJ were off on our customary travels. As it happens, the night went downhill from then. Quiet bars and the sense of decay. “What!?” you may say. Let me explain: The Ivy for example, along in Kelvingrove, was that dead that we left without ordering, and its eponymous plants
hung outside were just as lifeless.
And the end of the night was in the main upstairs bar in Oranmor; here there was a stench I couldn’t quite place until LJ pointed out that it was stale beer. He was right. It was if some giant bar towel, wringing with ale, had been left behind the counter. Do something about it, Oranmor. The whole depressing scene there, people desperately unwilling to go home but too old (they think) for the nightclub downstairs, reminded me of Hogarth’s series of paintings. But it was dissolution without the fun.
Thursday, 16 September 2010
Thursday, 9 September 2010
The In-Crowd
The Corinthian Club, 191 Ingram Street, G1 1DA
One of the many benefits in being The Bar Biographer is the invites you receive. And I don’t just mean on Facebook (though these are, rest assured, gratefully received). No, I’m talking film premieres, book launches, gallery openings. Well, the pub equivalents of these, anyway.
The latest was the re-birth of Corinthian. This was received via my parallel working life – an RSVP email to be specific – but who cares. An invite is an invite.
It was the night before the casino/club/restaurant complex opened for the general public and I was striding to the grand entrance. A bit too busy for a select gathering I thought, as we moved through the crowd, past the outer doormen and up to the reception desk.
A pleasant lady smiled but said nothing. “I’m on the guest list,” I volunteered. She looked at no list nor reached for a clipboard. “****** plus three guests” I continued – my companions being The Muse, LJ and HT – but she just smiled and handed us all some bits of card. That was it.
So on in we went. Through the impressive lobby and by the grand staircase – the maelstrom of folk all around making it impossible to stand, observe and admire – and then in to the Teller’s Bar & Brasserie, the largest area within the complex.
I believe they also call it the networking bar. There are two actually, at opposite ends of the room on either side of the 26ft glass-dome which is one of the design highlights. Sumptuous cornicing and elaborate panelling are features obvious even to design laymen like myself. Blurb I’d read beforehand emphasised the employment of local craftsmen within the overall Graven Images contract – a company behind many Glasgow pub/club refurbs – and here their work has found full expression.
Fine period furnishing: drop chandeliers, wing-back chairs, heavy-based tables, live up to the standards set by the room itself. A more modern touch is the full-length wall couch in purple, offering bling that doesn’t overwhelm the classic feel of the room.
After a drink and a mingle we aimed for the basement. In its previous incarnation the access downstairs was via the narrow corner stairway, which now seems to be a staff area, but now a broad staircase drops from the middle of the room.
From this wide, open scene upstairs we descended into the confines of the Mash & Press Rooms and Club. Probably the vaults from the building’s use as a bank in the 19th century or the cells when it operated as courts from 1920 onwards, the ceilings are low and large stone pillars further cramp the space.
But this aids the atmosphere in this more communal, casual area. As does the clever lighting, white-tiling and benches. Less effective are the beech doorway frames, they just don’t fit the colour or feel of the underground space, the shape of which is largely unchanged from Corinthian of the early 2000s, where it was a sweaty hangout – similar to downstairs at Aarta – in contrast to the space above it. The designated club area is probably smaller now, accessed through the only closed door in the whole area.
Small snacks – most of which are finger-food - and craft beers seem to be the staples down here. The craft beers are marketed on a level with the wine selection, a further confirmation that nowadays beers are being treated as near equals in the connoisseurship and high-end hospitality stakes with fine wine. It’s a little disappointing though that the speciality beers only really cover the Brewdog range in any detail, but their 77 lager is a welcome addition as a draught.
Returning to the ground floor, the numbers had lessened in the main room presumably they had dispersed to do their own exploring of the 5 floors and 14 rooms. Now there was space to admire the way that this area has now been opened out. Windows previously blacked out have been reinstated allowing us the privilege of seeing outside, placing this building in its city context. Daylight will add another dimension.
The 1920s conversion of the building into a judiciary court covered much of the Victorian features – the bank itself a replacement of an earlier mansion dated from 1752 – and this latest version of the building is touted as being a restoration rather than a simple refurb; revealing the interior’s original glory, but how much of this was done on this occasion and how much from the 1999 makeover is hard to tell, I don’t have the photos to compare.
But this is now, I reflected, so enjoy it. I tried, but my realisation that this was not the select evening I had expected dampened my enthusiasm. This may have been re-invigorated had I realised that names such as Carol Smillie and Suzy McGuire were in attendance, but then again maybe not. The less said though the more my chances of a decent night in 29 again.
A new thing is the view from the Tellers bar through to the glass-sided suspended gallery above the gaming room. This is a grand perspective, like viewing the main chamber of an art gallery. We strolled through to the tables. Not many were gambling tonight, most preferring to watch or pose, some from the floor, some from tables above in the gallery, and from the small bar also overlooking the room.
The impression I had been given was that gaming would be throughout the complex but it seems it is only in this room. And it is in here and the main room that the bulk of the £5.7m investment seems to have been spent. Viewed as a whole it does remind you of a Regency palace or French chateau. (No, I hadn’t drunk too many sherbets, thank you very much).
We had been given a gaming voucher each – in effect a free chip – from reception on arrival but we decided to keep on moving. Back into the reception area, which remained as busy as before. This bottleneck would be a problem and a hindrance on any busy evening, too much come and go through this area. The main toilets were accessed from here and smokers headed through to the only smoking area – outside the front entrance – as well as those entering or leaving. The lack of smoking provision remains an issue in this venue, I guess the listed nature of the building and its central location prevents alteration such as a new door or terrace.
To the right as you enter the building there is the Boutique bar, previously a piano bar which was tending towards the shabby before the rebirth. The centrepiece in here is a catwalk-style table. The fashion/retail theme is continued with display cabinets and drawers, the content supplied by high-end designer labels from shops in the nearby Style Mile. The ladies in here – for this is a definitely a girlie space – seemed more comfortable than those who had looked slightly bewildered in the gaming area – maybe because there is no doubt in here, you won’t be getting your money back -especially those in the fabulous window booths.
Across the hall the emphasis is more masculine. Bootleg concentrates on ‘mature spirits’ in a prohibition setting. This ‘theme’ has been explored in quite a few new bars inside the last year, lessening this joint’s impact somewhat but there are some nice touches such as delicate silver tankards and safe doors built into the bar. The staff wear flat caps straight out of The Sting which complement the grey suits and black shirts wore by the rest of the Corinthian staff.
The Malt Whisky Flight is a good idea. For the decent price of £7.50 you get a taster of four nips of malt, said to fit the main flavours you’ll find within the range of Scotland’s national drink: Light & Floral; Fruity & Spicy; Rich & Rounded; Full Bodied & Smoky. In addition to a big range of whisky they stock some less well-known US whiskey such as Elijah Craig and Jefferson’s Reserve. The rum selection is extensive too.
The upper floors are largely occupied by private function rooms but there are reasons to go upstairs for the ordinary punter. And the main staircase is worth the hike alone. The Laird’s Room is billed as a private space but I’m not sure if it was on this occasion. Seems to be Corinthian’s concession to Scottishness. Nosey Parkers is similarly, a place to hire. That is a pity, because it overlooks the ground floor, the general public thus denied a great view.
Somewhere everyone can access is Charlie Parkers, also on the first floor. It is named after an early style bar in Royal Exchange Square which closed around the early 80s. A legendary place, in some circles, but beyond even my vintage. The new version is good fun. Lowered lighting and décor that you would expect in uptown Manhattan.
Just like Boutique downstairs this lends itself to the ladies’ requirements and will be doing a great trade in champagne and cocktails. This evening there were many people of a certain age, enough to make one wonder how many had been regulars in the original CPs. But not faces I recognised from the Vroni’s, All Bar One, Rogano, One Up/29 circuit. Where have they been hiding all these years?
Charlie Parkers is a live piano bar with the bar counter itself shaped so that bar seating surrounds the piano player. Those said ladies crowded round the pianist, one Tom Urie. He had a reasonable repertoire and a good voice, in an old-fashioned crooner-ish way. This man also appears in our very own River City so is a moonlighting crooner to boot. There are many detractors of RC – including me - but it says something for the quaintness of this soap that Big Bob can appear here and no one bats an eyelid. Can you imagine Phil Mitchell tinkling the ivories in such a manner?
My shattered dreams of reaching VIP strata withstanding, an interesting time was had. Corinthian is large enough to offer a variety of experiences and the millions have been well spent, creating a complex that is, in parts, magnificent.
However, the 1500 people reputed to have attended this opening evening were easily swallowed up by its sheer size and it will need this amount of people on many nights if it is to be viable. Is Glasgow big enough or rich enough to provide those numbers? The roulette wheel is spinning; place your bets ladies and gentlemen.
One of the many benefits in being The Bar Biographer is the invites you receive. And I don’t just mean on Facebook (though these are, rest assured, gratefully received). No, I’m talking film premieres, book launches, gallery openings. Well, the pub equivalents of these, anyway.
The latest was the re-birth of Corinthian. This was received via my parallel working life – an RSVP email to be specific – but who cares. An invite is an invite.
It was the night before the casino/club/restaurant complex opened for the general public and I was striding to the grand entrance. A bit too busy for a select gathering I thought, as we moved through the crowd, past the outer doormen and up to the reception desk.
A pleasant lady smiled but said nothing. “I’m on the guest list,” I volunteered. She looked at no list nor reached for a clipboard. “****** plus three guests” I continued – my companions being The Muse, LJ and HT – but she just smiled and handed us all some bits of card. That was it.
So on in we went. Through the impressive lobby and by the grand staircase – the maelstrom of folk all around making it impossible to stand, observe and admire – and then in to the Teller’s Bar & Brasserie, the largest area within the complex.
I believe they also call it the networking bar. There are two actually, at opposite ends of the room on either side of the 26ft glass-dome which is one of the design highlights. Sumptuous cornicing and elaborate panelling are features obvious even to design laymen like myself. Blurb I’d read beforehand emphasised the employment of local craftsmen within the overall Graven Images contract – a company behind many Glasgow pub/club refurbs – and here their work has found full expression.
Fine period furnishing: drop chandeliers, wing-back chairs, heavy-based tables, live up to the standards set by the room itself. A more modern touch is the full-length wall couch in purple, offering bling that doesn’t overwhelm the classic feel of the room.
After a drink and a mingle we aimed for the basement. In its previous incarnation the access downstairs was via the narrow corner stairway, which now seems to be a staff area, but now a broad staircase drops from the middle of the room.
From this wide, open scene upstairs we descended into the confines of the Mash & Press Rooms and Club. Probably the vaults from the building’s use as a bank in the 19th century or the cells when it operated as courts from 1920 onwards, the ceilings are low and large stone pillars further cramp the space.
But this aids the atmosphere in this more communal, casual area. As does the clever lighting, white-tiling and benches. Less effective are the beech doorway frames, they just don’t fit the colour or feel of the underground space, the shape of which is largely unchanged from Corinthian of the early 2000s, where it was a sweaty hangout – similar to downstairs at Aarta – in contrast to the space above it. The designated club area is probably smaller now, accessed through the only closed door in the whole area.
Small snacks – most of which are finger-food - and craft beers seem to be the staples down here. The craft beers are marketed on a level with the wine selection, a further confirmation that nowadays beers are being treated as near equals in the connoisseurship and high-end hospitality stakes with fine wine. It’s a little disappointing though that the speciality beers only really cover the Brewdog range in any detail, but their 77 lager is a welcome addition as a draught.
Returning to the ground floor, the numbers had lessened in the main room presumably they had dispersed to do their own exploring of the 5 floors and 14 rooms. Now there was space to admire the way that this area has now been opened out. Windows previously blacked out have been reinstated allowing us the privilege of seeing outside, placing this building in its city context. Daylight will add another dimension.
The 1920s conversion of the building into a judiciary court covered much of the Victorian features – the bank itself a replacement of an earlier mansion dated from 1752 – and this latest version of the building is touted as being a restoration rather than a simple refurb; revealing the interior’s original glory, but how much of this was done on this occasion and how much from the 1999 makeover is hard to tell, I don’t have the photos to compare.
But this is now, I reflected, so enjoy it. I tried, but my realisation that this was not the select evening I had expected dampened my enthusiasm. This may have been re-invigorated had I realised that names such as Carol Smillie and Suzy McGuire were in attendance, but then again maybe not. The less said though the more my chances of a decent night in 29 again.
A new thing is the view from the Tellers bar through to the glass-sided suspended gallery above the gaming room. This is a grand perspective, like viewing the main chamber of an art gallery. We strolled through to the tables. Not many were gambling tonight, most preferring to watch or pose, some from the floor, some from tables above in the gallery, and from the small bar also overlooking the room.
The impression I had been given was that gaming would be throughout the complex but it seems it is only in this room. And it is in here and the main room that the bulk of the £5.7m investment seems to have been spent. Viewed as a whole it does remind you of a Regency palace or French chateau. (No, I hadn’t drunk too many sherbets, thank you very much).
We had been given a gaming voucher each – in effect a free chip – from reception on arrival but we decided to keep on moving. Back into the reception area, which remained as busy as before. This bottleneck would be a problem and a hindrance on any busy evening, too much come and go through this area. The main toilets were accessed from here and smokers headed through to the only smoking area – outside the front entrance – as well as those entering or leaving. The lack of smoking provision remains an issue in this venue, I guess the listed nature of the building and its central location prevents alteration such as a new door or terrace.
To the right as you enter the building there is the Boutique bar, previously a piano bar which was tending towards the shabby before the rebirth. The centrepiece in here is a catwalk-style table. The fashion/retail theme is continued with display cabinets and drawers, the content supplied by high-end designer labels from shops in the nearby Style Mile. The ladies in here – for this is a definitely a girlie space – seemed more comfortable than those who had looked slightly bewildered in the gaming area – maybe because there is no doubt in here, you won’t be getting your money back -especially those in the fabulous window booths.
Across the hall the emphasis is more masculine. Bootleg concentrates on ‘mature spirits’ in a prohibition setting. This ‘theme’ has been explored in quite a few new bars inside the last year, lessening this joint’s impact somewhat but there are some nice touches such as delicate silver tankards and safe doors built into the bar. The staff wear flat caps straight out of The Sting which complement the grey suits and black shirts wore by the rest of the Corinthian staff.
The Malt Whisky Flight is a good idea. For the decent price of £7.50 you get a taster of four nips of malt, said to fit the main flavours you’ll find within the range of Scotland’s national drink: Light & Floral; Fruity & Spicy; Rich & Rounded; Full Bodied & Smoky. In addition to a big range of whisky they stock some less well-known US whiskey such as Elijah Craig and Jefferson’s Reserve. The rum selection is extensive too.
The upper floors are largely occupied by private function rooms but there are reasons to go upstairs for the ordinary punter. And the main staircase is worth the hike alone. The Laird’s Room is billed as a private space but I’m not sure if it was on this occasion. Seems to be Corinthian’s concession to Scottishness. Nosey Parkers is similarly, a place to hire. That is a pity, because it overlooks the ground floor, the general public thus denied a great view.
Somewhere everyone can access is Charlie Parkers, also on the first floor. It is named after an early style bar in Royal Exchange Square which closed around the early 80s. A legendary place, in some circles, but beyond even my vintage. The new version is good fun. Lowered lighting and décor that you would expect in uptown Manhattan.
Just like Boutique downstairs this lends itself to the ladies’ requirements and will be doing a great trade in champagne and cocktails. This evening there were many people of a certain age, enough to make one wonder how many had been regulars in the original CPs. But not faces I recognised from the Vroni’s, All Bar One, Rogano, One Up/29 circuit. Where have they been hiding all these years?
Charlie Parkers is a live piano bar with the bar counter itself shaped so that bar seating surrounds the piano player. Those said ladies crowded round the pianist, one Tom Urie. He had a reasonable repertoire and a good voice, in an old-fashioned crooner-ish way. This man also appears in our very own River City so is a moonlighting crooner to boot. There are many detractors of RC – including me - but it says something for the quaintness of this soap that Big Bob can appear here and no one bats an eyelid. Can you imagine Phil Mitchell tinkling the ivories in such a manner?
My shattered dreams of reaching VIP strata withstanding, an interesting time was had. Corinthian is large enough to offer a variety of experiences and the millions have been well spent, creating a complex that is, in parts, magnificent.
However, the 1500 people reputed to have attended this opening evening were easily swallowed up by its sheer size and it will need this amount of people on many nights if it is to be viable. Is Glasgow big enough or rich enough to provide those numbers? The roulette wheel is spinning; place your bets ladies and gentlemen.
Monday, 30 August 2010
The Top Ten of Summer 2010
I don’t tend to like doing lists, the style here is more freeform and impressionistic, as followers may have gathered. As Dostoevsky said, when asked about his work, “My job is not to reason and compare, but to create”.
But something in the air this time of year makes me want to look back. A wistful time is late summer. Things done; things not done. You think of pubs, too…
And in the very process of turning those thoughts over, hey presto, they suddenly form a list. So its an organic process after all, he convinced himself…
This list of ten from summer 2010 comprises some new bars that have made a good impression, some drinking establishments that really come into their own in the long days and nights of summer and others that continue to pursue excellence.
As they say, in no particular order, here are the ten *
(1) The Drake, 1 Lynedoch Street, Glasgow G3 6EF - An optimistic new beginning for a location that has failed many times. Quirky design- including Easter Island heads on the toilet doors - that is fresh and yet still has that established, clubby feel. Beer garden is hewn out of the tiny area between the building and the back lane; the epitome of a suntrap.
(2) Souter Johnnie’s Inn, 47 Main Street, Kirkoswald, Ayrshire - Inn, coffee house, ice-cream emporium, topped with master-crafted thatched roofs. Despite the scale, this place is the village’s own, a meeting place for good drink and food . Grab a seat or a barrel at the back by the fireplace and the full-length Rabbie, and listen to the night. Even dedicated urbanites will stay well beyond their planned departure time.
(3) The Gun, 27 Coldharbour, Docklands, London E14 9ES -A revelation in a quiet end of Docklands. Two outdoor seating areas giving unparalleled views over the Thames oxbow and the Dome. Barbeques, weddings and all-day birthday parties all catered for in style. Interior as pristine as the antique firearms hung above the bar.
(4) The Quarter Gill, 232 Dumbarton Road, Partick, Glasgow G11 - Now party-central Partick. Old and young come together to sing and listen to karaoke or just drink. A cultural counterpoint to The Liosmore that has come back stronger after its re-brand. Even sitting outside in the sun no longer looks incongruous.
(5) The Bailie, 2-4 St. Stephen Street, Stockbridge, Edinburgh EH3 5AL - An outstanding introduction to the village-within-a-city that is Stockbridge. A darkened interior of black walls and red ceiling is welcoming rather than seedy and the island bar brings punters together. The best improvised smoking area of any basement bar hosts the overspills of gatherings from weddings to wakes. This place even smells as a good pub should.
(6) Waverley Tea Room, 18 Moss Side Road, Shawlands, Glasgow G41 3TN - Adjoined to nightclub Tusk, the awkward narrow interior of the Waverley has been offset with the now excellent two level outside seating area complete with ‘covered’ conservatory. Just a pity it overlooks nothing more than a sleepy side street. The best pre-club buzz in the southside.
*(7) The Inn at Kippen & The Cross Keys, Kippen, Stirlingshire FK8 - Two for one here because they sit virtually back-to-back and offer the ying and yang of countryside hospitality. The Cross Keys is an old, coaching inn (1703) with small rooms, thick stone walls and a humble entrance; The Kippen Inn is rural chic with abundant space and soft furnishings. The beer gardens are contrasting too, both excellent.
(8) French House, 49 Dean Street, Soho, London W1D 5BG - The Resistance, Francis Bacon and Mark Steel in a pork-pie hat come together to create a Soho focal point. With the sash-windows open and the half-pints flowing (no vulgar large measures here) the world and the French House mingle. Don’t know if the legendary, late dandy Sebastian Horsley drank here, but I hope so.
(9) The Thistle Inn, 74 Main Street, Baillieston, Glasgow G69 5SL - A great place to start a pub crawl through Baillieston and beyond. Interior has a touch of the mock-Tudor about it but don’t let that put you off, that or the reputed ghost. Beer garden is spacious and well parasoled. Eavesdrop for colourful stories from the night before, complete with the marks to prove them.
(10) Jinglin’ Geordie, 22 Fleshmarket Close, Old Town, Edinburgh EH1 - A place of rest half-way up the steep Fleshmarket Close. Still overshadowed by The Halfway House – even though it sits above and to the south of its neighbour – Jinglin’ does have the advantage of a designated outdoor area; shabby and amongst the ancient back area of medieval Edinburgh but that is the charm. A more edgy clientele than the Halfway, which can lead to some fun.
But something in the air this time of year makes me want to look back. A wistful time is late summer. Things done; things not done. You think of pubs, too…
And in the very process of turning those thoughts over, hey presto, they suddenly form a list. So its an organic process after all, he convinced himself…
This list of ten from summer 2010 comprises some new bars that have made a good impression, some drinking establishments that really come into their own in the long days and nights of summer and others that continue to pursue excellence.
As they say, in no particular order, here are the ten *
(1) The Drake, 1 Lynedoch Street, Glasgow G3 6EF - An optimistic new beginning for a location that has failed many times. Quirky design- including Easter Island heads on the toilet doors - that is fresh and yet still has that established, clubby feel. Beer garden is hewn out of the tiny area between the building and the back lane; the epitome of a suntrap.
(2) Souter Johnnie’s Inn, 47 Main Street, Kirkoswald, Ayrshire - Inn, coffee house, ice-cream emporium, topped with master-crafted thatched roofs. Despite the scale, this place is the village’s own, a meeting place for good drink and food . Grab a seat or a barrel at the back by the fireplace and the full-length Rabbie, and listen to the night. Even dedicated urbanites will stay well beyond their planned departure time.
(3) The Gun, 27 Coldharbour, Docklands, London E14 9ES -A revelation in a quiet end of Docklands. Two outdoor seating areas giving unparalleled views over the Thames oxbow and the Dome. Barbeques, weddings and all-day birthday parties all catered for in style. Interior as pristine as the antique firearms hung above the bar.
(4) The Quarter Gill, 232 Dumbarton Road, Partick, Glasgow G11 - Now party-central Partick. Old and young come together to sing and listen to karaoke or just drink. A cultural counterpoint to The Liosmore that has come back stronger after its re-brand. Even sitting outside in the sun no longer looks incongruous.
(5) The Bailie, 2-4 St. Stephen Street, Stockbridge, Edinburgh EH3 5AL - An outstanding introduction to the village-within-a-city that is Stockbridge. A darkened interior of black walls and red ceiling is welcoming rather than seedy and the island bar brings punters together. The best improvised smoking area of any basement bar hosts the overspills of gatherings from weddings to wakes. This place even smells as a good pub should.
(6) Waverley Tea Room, 18 Moss Side Road, Shawlands, Glasgow G41 3TN - Adjoined to nightclub Tusk, the awkward narrow interior of the Waverley has been offset with the now excellent two level outside seating area complete with ‘covered’ conservatory. Just a pity it overlooks nothing more than a sleepy side street. The best pre-club buzz in the southside.
*(7) The Inn at Kippen & The Cross Keys, Kippen, Stirlingshire FK8 - Two for one here because they sit virtually back-to-back and offer the ying and yang of countryside hospitality. The Cross Keys is an old, coaching inn (1703) with small rooms, thick stone walls and a humble entrance; The Kippen Inn is rural chic with abundant space and soft furnishings. The beer gardens are contrasting too, both excellent.
(8) French House, 49 Dean Street, Soho, London W1D 5BG - The Resistance, Francis Bacon and Mark Steel in a pork-pie hat come together to create a Soho focal point. With the sash-windows open and the half-pints flowing (no vulgar large measures here) the world and the French House mingle. Don’t know if the legendary, late dandy Sebastian Horsley drank here, but I hope so.
(9) The Thistle Inn, 74 Main Street, Baillieston, Glasgow G69 5SL - A great place to start a pub crawl through Baillieston and beyond. Interior has a touch of the mock-Tudor about it but don’t let that put you off, that or the reputed ghost. Beer garden is spacious and well parasoled. Eavesdrop for colourful stories from the night before, complete with the marks to prove them.
(10) Jinglin’ Geordie, 22 Fleshmarket Close, Old Town, Edinburgh EH1 - A place of rest half-way up the steep Fleshmarket Close. Still overshadowed by The Halfway House – even though it sits above and to the south of its neighbour – Jinglin’ does have the advantage of a designated outdoor area; shabby and amongst the ancient back area of medieval Edinburgh but that is the charm. A more edgy clientele than the Halfway, which can lead to some fun.
Sunday, 22 August 2010
Any Port... Part 2
The Quarter Gill, 232 Dumbarton Road, Partick, G11
As I was saying…a good time to get out and away. Not far away though, across the road to The Quarter Gill. A place given its own facelift only two or three years back. A good attempt was made with discerning use of dark wood; fairy lights; ornate, contemporary wallpaper and an extended seating provision to attract a younger, slightly more style-conscious clientele. Nothing too drastic though, nothing that would alienate previous regulars nor detach the pub from its community heritage and connection to the locale.
The refurb was largely successful, attracting a diverse (in Partick that’s a relative term) range of punters. Any time I’ve been in the atmosphere has been appropriate for that particular time; midweek afternoon, quiet Sunday evening or New Year’s Eve – when a friend of mine made a celebrated big mistake with a large, local lady in red.
We entered this Saturday to be greeted by a sweating, heaving mass of folk which rivalled the frantic biz of the above-mentioned Hogmanay. I had squeezed in beside the bar counter beside a pillar bound in rope – a feature more suited to the establishment over the road - before I realised the reason for the buzz and heave: karaoke. Great. Out of the frying pan…
But regular readers will realise I’m not unduly anti-social (how could that be possible after all) but an early Sunday morning start was crowding into my head and no amount of singing nor liquor was going to shift it. I looked across at the help-yourself fridge of specialist German beers – Krombacher, Bitburger, Kneitinger amongst the number if my notes serve me well - installed in that afore-mentioned refurb and thought about selecting one, but the throng prevented even that option, so it was cooking lager and a short for The Muse.
After a couple of songs we retreated to the small side area; quieter with a decent number of tables. We couldn’t get a table but were happy standing watching the various acts and other goings-on. There were plenty of staff around too, the night’s popularity evidently anticipated. And talking of staff and observing let’s go on to the toilets. Here they are absolutely tiny. When in party mode you hardly notice and are even taken in with the sociability (yeah, honestly) small conveniences bring.
The female equivalents are even smaller, easily dominated that Hogmanay by the lady in red, who declared to everyone without eyes that her posterior was massive and they would have trouble getting past it. It was hard to disagree, I was informed.
But The Quarter Gill has re-established this area as a decent place to do more than just enjoy a quiet pint, karaoke or not. Sure, a lot of the punters will head into a club in town or along to Boho for the main course of their night but for some it would be right here. Kind of balances up the options for local folk, and we all know that balance benefits everyone.
No partying for us though, we were off within the hour to The Lismore/Lios Mor, again a short distance, across the edge of Mansfield Park. In some ways The Lismore and its sister The Ben Nevis are the inspiration for the transformation of The Quarter Gill and many other bars over the last decade. Traditional materials like slate, granite, copper and Scottish timber utilised within a contemporary design structure; modern Scotland encapsulated inside four walls. The high standards they set have inspired but they can also inhibit the design attempts made by other bars since.
Settling in to a corner seat in the lower bar, the relative excesses of the Gill were soon just a memory as the more sophisticated, even intellectual, atmosphere of The Lismore- established over many visits - re-asserted itself.
But it was quiet in here at back of ten on a Saturday night. No music, as standard. The only music here is fiddle sessions and occasional more official gigs outside during the West End Festival. Yeah, quiet tonight; boring, even. Just depends on your mood.
Our Bacchanalian instincts were on hold this evening, with no intention of taking it further. The party in The Quarter Gill would continue without us, it would continue whatever. And there’s no better recommendation than that.
As I was saying…a good time to get out and away. Not far away though, across the road to The Quarter Gill. A place given its own facelift only two or three years back. A good attempt was made with discerning use of dark wood; fairy lights; ornate, contemporary wallpaper and an extended seating provision to attract a younger, slightly more style-conscious clientele. Nothing too drastic though, nothing that would alienate previous regulars nor detach the pub from its community heritage and connection to the locale.
The refurb was largely successful, attracting a diverse (in Partick that’s a relative term) range of punters. Any time I’ve been in the atmosphere has been appropriate for that particular time; midweek afternoon, quiet Sunday evening or New Year’s Eve – when a friend of mine made a celebrated big mistake with a large, local lady in red.
We entered this Saturday to be greeted by a sweating, heaving mass of folk which rivalled the frantic biz of the above-mentioned Hogmanay. I had squeezed in beside the bar counter beside a pillar bound in rope – a feature more suited to the establishment over the road - before I realised the reason for the buzz and heave: karaoke. Great. Out of the frying pan…
But regular readers will realise I’m not unduly anti-social (how could that be possible after all) but an early Sunday morning start was crowding into my head and no amount of singing nor liquor was going to shift it. I looked across at the help-yourself fridge of specialist German beers – Krombacher, Bitburger, Kneitinger amongst the number if my notes serve me well - installed in that afore-mentioned refurb and thought about selecting one, but the throng prevented even that option, so it was cooking lager and a short for The Muse.
After a couple of songs we retreated to the small side area; quieter with a decent number of tables. We couldn’t get a table but were happy standing watching the various acts and other goings-on. There were plenty of staff around too, the night’s popularity evidently anticipated. And talking of staff and observing let’s go on to the toilets. Here they are absolutely tiny. When in party mode you hardly notice and are even taken in with the sociability (yeah, honestly) small conveniences bring.
The female equivalents are even smaller, easily dominated that Hogmanay by the lady in red, who declared to everyone without eyes that her posterior was massive and they would have trouble getting past it. It was hard to disagree, I was informed.
But The Quarter Gill has re-established this area as a decent place to do more than just enjoy a quiet pint, karaoke or not. Sure, a lot of the punters will head into a club in town or along to Boho for the main course of their night but for some it would be right here. Kind of balances up the options for local folk, and we all know that balance benefits everyone.
No partying for us though, we were off within the hour to The Lismore/Lios Mor, again a short distance, across the edge of Mansfield Park. In some ways The Lismore and its sister The Ben Nevis are the inspiration for the transformation of The Quarter Gill and many other bars over the last decade. Traditional materials like slate, granite, copper and Scottish timber utilised within a contemporary design structure; modern Scotland encapsulated inside four walls. The high standards they set have inspired but they can also inhibit the design attempts made by other bars since.
Settling in to a corner seat in the lower bar, the relative excesses of the Gill were soon just a memory as the more sophisticated, even intellectual, atmosphere of The Lismore- established over many visits - re-asserted itself.
But it was quiet in here at back of ten on a Saturday night. No music, as standard. The only music here is fiddle sessions and occasional more official gigs outside during the West End Festival. Yeah, quiet tonight; boring, even. Just depends on your mood.
Our Bacchanalian instincts were on hold this evening, with no intention of taking it further. The party in The Quarter Gill would continue without us, it would continue whatever. And there’s no better recommendation than that.
Friday, 13 August 2010
Any Port... (Part 1)
Storm Queen, 243 Dumbarton Road, Partick, G11 6AB
Around a month ago the news was out that the Clyde Valley, one of Partick’s stalwarts had re-branded to become Storm Queen. A strange name for this bar and this part of town; a different style of moniker from neighbours such as The Smiddy, The Ettrick, and The Victoria Bar. I then learned this name had been used in a previous refurbishment by Scottish & Newcastle back in the 70s.Still it had to be checked out, to see if this really was a break from the past, and from the neighbourhood.
A Saturday evening on a busy weekend on Dumbarton Road, but that wasn’t immediately apparent walking down the amazingly steep Gardiner Street. Very few peeps about. And the same on the main road. Just a few stragglers returning from a day’s shopping.
The exterior of Storm Queen has been rendered black, the gold lettering standing out clearly. Inside, first impressions were that nothing much had changed. Tables and chairs and a couple of Chesterfields in the front part of the room, more tables and a stage further back. And the fake brick wall, an earlier and crude attempt at a design staple of today.
Getting the drinks in confirmed that things in that department hadn’t moved on from my last visit either. Careless service: two drinks, a lager and a G&T, and the barmaid still had to come back to me after pouring the beer to check my tiny order. And then once she had the drinks in her hands she forgot where I was standing. There are still very few professionals working in Scottish bars.
We took the recessed double seat, which faces the counter, and watched the evening progress. A group of around 8 people gathered, split, then reformed, and so on into the night. A cosmopolitan mixture of folk that we learned later were celebrating a reunion. More people joined the group as a wee band warmed-up beside us.
The feel of the place had seemed to go upmarket since my last visit when a guy was singing ‘My Way’ on karaoke. Not so unusual you may say, but it was the Sid Vicious version. I enjoyed that, I must say, though some people around were just glad he hadn’t attempted ‘Friggin’ in the Riggin’’.
Storm Queen –research has suggested the name is of a famous steamship, rather like the rough and ready Jeannie Deans on Argyle Street - is steaming on a course well away from neighbours like The Partick Tavern and the sadly diminished Ettrick.
As we left, another well-kempt couple arrived, and the band, including a rather incongruous saxophone, were on their opening bars. As good a time as any, I said…
Around a month ago the news was out that the Clyde Valley, one of Partick’s stalwarts had re-branded to become Storm Queen. A strange name for this bar and this part of town; a different style of moniker from neighbours such as The Smiddy, The Ettrick, and The Victoria Bar. I then learned this name had been used in a previous refurbishment by Scottish & Newcastle back in the 70s.Still it had to be checked out, to see if this really was a break from the past, and from the neighbourhood.
A Saturday evening on a busy weekend on Dumbarton Road, but that wasn’t immediately apparent walking down the amazingly steep Gardiner Street. Very few peeps about. And the same on the main road. Just a few stragglers returning from a day’s shopping.
The exterior of Storm Queen has been rendered black, the gold lettering standing out clearly. Inside, first impressions were that nothing much had changed. Tables and chairs and a couple of Chesterfields in the front part of the room, more tables and a stage further back. And the fake brick wall, an earlier and crude attempt at a design staple of today.
Getting the drinks in confirmed that things in that department hadn’t moved on from my last visit either. Careless service: two drinks, a lager and a G&T, and the barmaid still had to come back to me after pouring the beer to check my tiny order. And then once she had the drinks in her hands she forgot where I was standing. There are still very few professionals working in Scottish bars.
We took the recessed double seat, which faces the counter, and watched the evening progress. A group of around 8 people gathered, split, then reformed, and so on into the night. A cosmopolitan mixture of folk that we learned later were celebrating a reunion. More people joined the group as a wee band warmed-up beside us.
The feel of the place had seemed to go upmarket since my last visit when a guy was singing ‘My Way’ on karaoke. Not so unusual you may say, but it was the Sid Vicious version. I enjoyed that, I must say, though some people around were just glad he hadn’t attempted ‘Friggin’ in the Riggin’’.
Storm Queen –research has suggested the name is of a famous steamship, rather like the rough and ready Jeannie Deans on Argyle Street - is steaming on a course well away from neighbours like The Partick Tavern and the sadly diminished Ettrick.
As we left, another well-kempt couple arrived, and the band, including a rather incongruous saxophone, were on their opening bars. As good a time as any, I said…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)