And so it came to pass that I was walking from Interchange station up through town on a relatively mild February evening - the dark evening sky stifling my inner core in a way which only a place like Bradford can. And then, my pub/bar/cafe appeared on the street corner like a beacon of hope ......
|A beacon of hope?|
1022. Record Cafe, Bradford
"Mood" lighting combined with glaring spotlights coming from behind the bar meant that I could barely see what was on the handpumps at all - the blackboard was no clearer - and if you throw into the equation three stubborn old barflies who were reluctant to move, a perfect storm was created whereby I had no idea what I was ordering. Just my luck then that I later discovered it was a 7.4% hoppy pale ale. No wonder one of the men turned to me and nodded in a sage manner! It made no sense at the time. So what is this place all about then? I'll tell you, vinyl, ale and ham. And a sweaty Steve Coogan in his suit was sucking up a plate of salami, also stood at the bar. Because when they say "ham" in these places, they actually mean "cured meats". Gimme a bit of tinned spam any day. I sat down facing the bar, back resting on a cushion against a brick wall. So for the vinyl then .... and I spied an upstairs with records. I went to explore, very retro, very 'cool', shame you couldn't sit up here. And the record collection itself? As you'd expect - boring Bowie, boring Beatles, Glumford & Sons, and just enough rare pressed pink Sex Pistols vinyl to make it semi-interesting. Back downstairs, to my right, three elders greeted each other in French but became increasingly northern. By the time I left, last thing I heard, and a direct quote "Eeeee corned beef hash! Wi' brown sauce n Yorkshires, aye." To my left, a beardie on a laptop. He started on the ale but then ordered a pint of water with cranberries floating in the top with a side of olives. Twat. I liked this cafe's atmosphere though, and when the two bar girls wrestled a huge slab of pig into a vice like meat cutter, I had to stay for another half and observe. A young Jesus finally came to their rescue. You could do worse than visit this place. A less pretentious Friends of Ham for an older crowd, and I do actually like that place too.
|The pub's mantra|
|Pint of 7.4%, and flowers in an empty Beavertown can (classy!)|
|Meat n Merch, hanging from the rafters|
|Retro upstairs vinyl area|
Only 21 GBG pubs left to do in the whole of Yorkshire (13 North, 8 West). I'll be doing a couple of North ones over the weekend, see you Friday. And work have promised me I can finally, finally get back to a few 4pm finishes which will help with some of the West Yorks trips that require a bus ride.
Still on for a late March finish, so this is my main BRAPA focus for the next few weeks. Some, as you'd expect, have weird opening days and times so I will have to adapt my days a bit to achieve the goal.