|Dodgy toilet decor in the Blacksmiths Arms, Lastingham|
Our now legendary SatNav woman loves her rural outings, and having negotiated the busy Scarborough road and the centre of Pickering, we were soon at a pub which was a real 'monkey off the back' for me.....
|Me and Mummy Everitt at the New Inn, Cropton|
Ah yes, the fabled New Inn at Cropton as revered by local CAMRA and walkers all over the county, this was a real "oh my god Si how have you never been here before?" pub, I was expecting big things. It was only just gone 11am so the pub was perhaps not at the peak of it's powers, with a huddle of locals chatting at the bar like extras from Postman Pat. Cropton brewery is a great one, though their decision to change it's name to 'Great Yorkshire Brewery', thus losing their local identity, is one which I'll never understand. Luckily, the beers were the same quality as before, 'Yorkshire Pale' on top form and probably good I hadn't spied the 6% Monkman's Slaugter or Chocolate Orange as I was still fragile from yesterday's Horsforth Beer Festival. They had a huge range of non handpulled fonts as well, but you won't get many hipsters to the dozen in here. A bit like Danby last week, you felt this pub had lots of hidden rooms, nooks and crannies with a pool table in one room, a collection of Teddy Bears suffocating behind a glass case, t-shirts and carry-outs for sale, a restaurant luckily hidden away, and rooms to stay overnight in. No prostitutes to be seen. The brunette barmaid was a nice lass, and after much jiggery pokery with my loose change, I was able to somehow get a £5 note back in change from seemingly nowhere. Some pubs work better in the daytime, most probably work better on an evening, and you felt this was in the latter category with a lot of pot polishing and glass clinking as the staff worked hard to get organised for the inevitable influx of Easter scum (I mean visitors). One man staying overnight insisted on parading his baby around the pub, cute the first time, irritating after that. When the whole family arrived, it was time to move on, but I still had time to return a lost hat to the rightful owner, to a vague degree of gratitude, It was that kind of place.
|Teddies and indoor view of the New Inn|
|Mummy Everitt does the 'book work' on her first BRAPA appearance of 2016.|
|At the sign of the Blacksmith|
I'd been so caught up in the anticipation of Cropton, I hadn't considered that this pub might actually be brilliant, so imagine my surprise when it actually was! As soon as we walked in, the smell of real fires, and busy hub of friendly locals in the main bar, a low ceiling made even lower by tankards hanging from the ceiling. We ordered ales from a new brewery, Dick's of Brough, and three bowls of tomato and basil soup with crusty bread. Acceptable pub food, cos I just said so! We sat towards the back and after a bit of calamafludging (if that's a word) about whether we were at the one reserved table, we settled down in a room with flat caps hanging from the ceiling - classic Yorkshire touch. There were jars of jam, honey, chutney, marmalade (basically anything you could 'jar') for sale, this was a classic rural pub. The decor in the loos left a bit to be desired (see top photo) but the mood was friendly as a strange old woman sat behind us and started coughing in a musical way. Dad commented the soup was a bit herby (errm, that might be the basil) whilst I ordered a treacle tart which I'm still digesting now and found it too 'treacly', good job we're not food critics isn't it? But what a cracker. So the next time you hear people waxing lyrical about the New Inn, tell them to make the short journey here aswell/instead.
|Sitting down to digest my treacle tart.|
|Enjoying the range of flat caps|
|If you can put it in a jar, they'll sell it here.|
Remember to put those clocks forward!