Return to the Coopers

Last week saw our return to the Coopers, once the local for the people of Stamford Green, sometimes a haunt of youth, presently a casual dining establishment, although drinking is also allowed. A place we have eaten at on several occasions, perhaps most recently that noticed at reference 1, around four years ago.

Started the day with a spin around Jubilee Way. Overcast and muggy. But a slight breeze, so neither hot nor wet. Overtaken by a carpet lorry in East Street: rather too close and rather too fast for comfort. Overtaken by one of those posh, unmarked and anonymised coaches at the lights for the first turning into Ewell Village. Dark glass windows. The sort of thing used by important football teams and important executives for their outings. And much improved by having registration plate No.33, a near miss for the No.34 I have been looking out for for weeks. But not so anonymised that there was not a small label below the door saying that it was operated by Bruton's Coaches of Morden. Who are now tracked down.

Back at the Coopers, settled for eating in, in what used to be the saloon bar. A place where a veteran once told me about his time in Sheffield in the run up to D-day, most of which was spent in swimming up and down the municipal swimming pool in uniform, if not in full battle dress. I forget whether he ever actually made it to Normandy. But it was probably more than twenty years ago now.

Presentation of the food rather better than the Blenheim. Much more lady friendly. And my beefburger came with far fewer additives, which was good, although I did come across what tasted like a dollop of Branston's at one point. Which I shall ask them to omit on a future occasion. Also that I prefer my burgers to be slightly less cooked, with this one being a little dry. 

Plus, while they had a large bottle of Bells being used to collect coin for charity, they couldn't actually sell me a Bells. I had to settle for a Jameson. To think that Bells was the big brand in saloon bars of my youth. Preferred by saloon bar cognoscenti to the better selling Teachers. Haven't seen that one for a while either. Notwithstanding, Bing rapidly turns up their web site (reference 5), so I shall have to take to asking for it in bars which make something of a parade of their single malts.

But otherwise entirely satisfactory, complete with entertainment provided by a nearby table, very full of all the cruises they had done over years.

Home past a hopeful team member minding the entrance to the Cricketers, to enter a ballot for Wigmore Hall tickets, the results of which were reported in the previous post. Scrabble off; can't remember why. It is not as if the afternoon would have been very far advanced by the time we got home,  with the time stamp on the picture above being just after 13:00.

PS: I have just remembered about the micro-brewery operated at the back of the Coopers. I should perhaps have allowed myself a half, for old-times sake. Maybe next time.

Reference 1: http://psmv3.blogspot.com/2017/05/hay-fever.html.

Reference 2: http://jollycoopers.co.uk/home-1/.

Reference 3: http://www.brutonscoaches.co.uk/.

Reference 4: https://www.brutons-executive-coaches.co.uk/. Slightly more informative, and including a snap of the sort of coach in question. Reproduced above.

Reference 5: https://www.teacherswhisky.com/.