Posts from 9th July 2010

Jul 10

The FT Top 25 Pubs of the 00s No 1: Glasshouse Stores

FT + Pumpkin Publog10 comments • 4,280 views

So we get a winner, down on Brewer Street in Soho, the Glasshouse Stores was voted the number one pub of the noughties by those of us who voted. A nice pub sure, but so much better than the others? To find out why it scored so highly I thought I would canvas a number of opinions – feel free to add your own at the bottom.

Tom Says:
My memory may be cheating me but I think the first time we ended up in the Glasshouse Stores it was due to a power cut a pub or two along. Marvellous serendipity if so, and appropriate: an accidental pub becoming a shrine to the unintended social consequences of setting up an online community. This is the top pub of the 00s and is tied firmly to the 00s: I can quite imagine never visiting it again, which isn’t something I can say about several others. The regular ILX meet-ups we held there are mostly a thing of the past, for the happy reason that participants basically stopped being “message board posters” and started being simply ‘friends’. What that misses out is the random element, of course – the sense on entering a get-together that you never quite knew who would turn up. Sometimes new faces, occasionally unwelcome ones – the internet meet-up pitches itself halfway between the cosy drink with mates and the party.


Old Ford (cheesy lover #89)

FT + Pumpkin PublogPost a comment • 536 views

I didn't even have a knife for cutting the cheese - you don't expect me to have a PHOTOGRAPH of it for you, do you?

A hard unpasturised goat’s milk cheese, made in Somerset and bought from Neals Yard Dairy.

Kat joined me for an impromptu picnic lunch, and we bought a wedge of this. (Note to self: next time choose a SOFTER cheese if you have no knife!) It’s a very pale parchment-coloured cheese, hard and smooth and with a smattering of tiny gaps, covered in a crumbly wrinkled light grey rind.


THE HOLLIES – “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”

Popular58 comments • 6,612 views

#615, 24th September 1988

Furrowed-brow gospel rock which risks being weighty in all the wrong ways. The title phrase is from a 1940s magazine cover, said by a cute li’l scamp in a “from the mouths of babes” moment. Transpose it to a rock song and you get a stodgy mix of wartime folksiness and King James solemnity (“no burden is he”). The arrangement echoes this unhappy combination: dustbowl harmonica and churchy string section in a forced marriage of two quite different kinds of seriousness.