Cask and Barrel, Broughton – Taking pubs for granted pt. 2
We are lucky to have pubs like this.
What’s it about?
A few months ago, when I asked about the pubs you take for granted, reader Jackie suggested the Cask and Barrel. I couldn’t agree more.
It’s only when I really think about it that I realise: I go here far more often than I thought. That means it must be doing something right.
On the roundabout at the bottom of Broughton Street – past the independent restaurants, coffee houses, gastropubs, organic food stores and artsy lifestyle shops – a circular corner building sweeps around into East London Street. On the ground floor sits this old-school, no-nonsense pub.
The large interior is divided by a beautiful, domineering U-shaped bar in its centre, offering eight different cask beers. You’ll find a selection of classic British ales such as Deuchars, Landlord or Old Speckled Hen. While it may be a risk to offer so many, the quality of the cask is generally good and can occasionally be excellent. The staff won’t rush in their service, helped along by sprinklers to give a frothy head to the pints.
Despite the building being a bank until the 1970s, the Cask and Barrel certainly looks like a pub inside. It’s got the usual trappings of framed posters and mirrors on the walls, green leather banquette seating and, appropriately, a few barrels to perch beside with a pint. But it also smells like a pub. Every time I pass it I catch a whiff of malt from inside, or the cigarette smoke of someone standing outside, and it transports me to any one of countless nights sitting around with friends, in pubs like this, around the country.
And we are lucky to have such pubs. They are situated in neighbourhoods, not city centres. They have regulars, but you can also walk in at any time of the day and find a cross section of society. And I’m not sure there is really an equivalent in any other country in the world.
The pub’s also incredibly versatile: I’ve been in on Saturday afternoons, midweek evenings, Friday nights. I’ve been in to watch football or rugby. (Despite having seven screens, this isn’t a sports bar and is not dominated by the tellies. In fact, there have been many matches where there are just as many people not watching as there are watching.)
We all know the way the industry is heading. Customers can afford fewer nights out. The costs of raw materials, energy and staff have all gone up. The aftershocks of lockdown are still being felt in a sector which was inadequately supported during Covid. It’s no wonder pubs are closing in record numbers. Once they go, they aren’t coming back. So next time you’re walking past your local and the smell of the beer catches your nostrils, drop in and buy yourself a pint. You’ll be doing your community a service.
Where is it?
Where next?
Just up the hill is Mather’s Bar, a pleasant place with a storied musical history.
Or head east to The Cumberland Bar, well worth the seven-minute walk.
The chaser
In last week’s post, I mentioned being fooled by the interior of The Percy, which had done a fantastic job of recreating a Victorian boozer despite only being decorated in this way in the 1990s.
There are a few pubs around Edinburgh which were also given a historic refit in the same period, including The Blue Blazer, The Bow Bar and The Cumberland Bar. The man responsible for many of these is Ian Whyte. if anyone has any more information about him or his restorations I would be greatly interested. Because I have a lot to thank him for.
Leave a comment or email edinburghpubreviews@substack.com.
Plus, I’m always interested what pubs you might place in the take-it-for-granted-but-would-miss-it-if-it-shut-down category.
Many a fond memory of pints at this pub!
And one not so fond, watching the Scotland-Kazakhstan game a few years ago.
Thanks so much for highlighting it!
I have memories of drinking in this building in 1970 and 1971 - I remember it as 2 separate bars (one of which was the Claremont), so I am intrigued to hear that it was one bar.