Desert Island Pubs – Simon Potts, CEO, The Alchemist Bars & Restaurants
Simon Potts, CEO, The Alchemist Bars & Restaurants
1. Earliest Memory of a Pub
I have one of those memories that has perhaps been forged more from my Dad’s retelling over the years – we were on the Isle of Mull on the annual holiday that we took with another couple of families. One day he and I ducked into one of the classic pink-washed hotels on the Tobermory Harbour front – to escape the inevitable and incessant rain storms that always featured – with his pal a few yards behind us. Upon entry and not clear on the licensing laws (and me being 10-years-old) he pointed at me and asked the barman if I was ‘okay?’ To which he gave a gruff nod. My Pop then promptly asked for ’two pints of bitter and a lem…’ but before he could finish the order, the barman said ‘Aye, he’s welcome tae come in, but dinnae take the pish’.
2. Most Inspirational Pub to my Career
The Friary in Lancaster initially a Firkin and later a Scream pub is firmly etched in my mind; I was in the city as a student but by the second year I had begun working in hospitality. I realise now that subconsciously I was learning about the idea of the pub as ‘a Place, not just ‘a place that served drinks’. As well as being my local, it leant heavily into the city’s sporting student culture and was the go-to for televised football at the height of the early 00s Arsenal versus Man United rivalry. I had friends that worked there and it was the start point for most of our nights out and I felt very connected to it as a customer.
As the name might suggest, The Friary was a converted 19th century church and they had retained the mezzanine seating strip that ringed the first floor – so on big days you ended up with this sort of stadium effect with what felt like thousands of people bouncing along to the music, the football or whatever. It had an incredible, joyful energy as a space and I reflect often about how cohesive, curated, and committed the operation must have been in order to create that experience.
3. My Current Local
I live in Didsbury and am a cheery five-minute walk away from the brilliantly named Ye Olde Cock Inn. It’s a Greene King outpost and is fun, friendly and a bit knockabout in the way all good local pubs are. It knows its market well and although the bar team seems to be a fairly interchangeable bunch of sixth formers, service is always friendly and Otto the dog gets a good fuss each time we visit. It’s the second stop on the infamous Didsbury Dozen tour, so at the weekend the atmosphere is effervescent and festive with some questionable fancy dress normally at play. I don’t recommend visiting pub #12 on that tour mind you.
4. My Favourite Pub
My favourite pub is The George on Great Portland St. I’ve loved that Soho/Fitzrovia pub culture ever since my oldest and dearest friend from school, working in town, introduced me to it in our early twenties. These days he owns a media agency on the adjacent street and The George – a modern classic of the genre – is their local. I quite often join them for post-work pints. I think the current ownership has really got it singing as an operation with a classic Pub vibe. It’s boisterous but polished and the food’s brilliant. A few years back, I was delighted to come across a more historic reference to it in one of my favourite books, Any Human Heart by William Boyd.
5. The Pub you’d like to take to the Island
I’m going to flip this one on its head and give you a pub – well a bar really – that actually is, an Island. The Pelican Bar, perched on a sandbar off the south coast of Jamaica. You have to motor boat out to get at it, and dock on this ramshackle pearl of a spot with bleached driftwood and where cold Red Stripe is the order of the day. Yet somehow they manage to knock out a fairly comprehensive food offer despite the obvious logistical and lack of power challenges. Ostensibly it’s built by and for the fishermen of the nearby village but it’s become an unashamed tourist-centric destination and is all the more charming for it – decorated with license plates and sporting pennants from the world over. It’s a very visceral reminder of the universal energy and appeal of a really great bar. There’d definitely be worse places to get washed up.
6. The beer (unlimited supply) you’d take to the desert island
I don’t have a go-to beer – like many of us, what I’m drinking tends to be dictated by the environment around me: a Guinness in Soho; a cold Continental lager on a sunny afternoon in Manchester; and a well-treated best bitter in a country pub with the dog. But, if I’m going to be stranded with a supply, I’m going to go for romance and a taste of home. I grew up in the Chilterns, and although I ‘grew up’ on Foster’s Export and Carling, in later life I discovered the wonders of the Chiltern Brewery. The first that I can recall opening its doors and activating the dull mechanics of brewing with a friendly customer fascia. Take away kegs in back gardens on hazy summer afternoons and taps across the region mean it always sparks a sense of calmness and family for me, and the very sessionable IPA would be a nice nod to happy times, while I waited for the airlift out.
Glynn Davis, editor, Beer Insider
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