Wet January
Hello,
Writing what’s basically an article but like, to people is weird, isn’t it? Writing at all is weird. A strange, unused muscle that still knows how to do a motion but the rest of my body’s forgotten it, replaced with the kind of sheer heft that can pick up barrels.
Anyway. No need to get existential this early, January’s bad enough. Actually that might be a lead-in: January absolutely fucking sucks, for pubs. If I didn’t have a hardcore cohort of regulars and it wasn’t Rangers v Celtic this week I would’ve made absolutely bugger all money and as it is I’ve basically paid my staff and will be thinking of the pre-Christmas good times when it comes to myself.
January is a barren month for a lot of people anyway. A five-and-a-bit week paycheck gap, the expense of Christmas and New Year and anything bought in the sales: it’s a time when even anyone with disposable income has bunged it on a gym membership or a PS5 and won’t be coming out.
It’s never been good for pubs. It’s got worse, with the rise of Dry January. I’m not a booze-pusher, I’m absolutely happy for people to come into my pub and drink softs and I’m trying to extend our non-alcoholic offering to include more fresh juices, better coffees, etc. Pubs are, at this time of year, a warm space to come into and nothing about that says you need to be slinging back pints to be here.
Equally, I totally understand why people feel the need to take a month off drinking, reassess their relationship with alcohol at this time of year. Some might stop drinking altogether, some might drink less, some might be 36 jagerbombs down on February 1st.
(if they are, could they do it in my pub)
But god. It sucks. It’s the worst month anyway and there’s a nationwide push for people to not come in. How is it only the 4th? January has lasted at least seven gruelling years already.
My railing against Dry January is, I know, unreasonable. And biased. If I worked in healthcare I might think actually it was blimming great if, after getting smashed and hurting themselves all December, people laid the hell off it for a month. But from one industry on its knees to another: pubs really don’t need over a quarter of our potential punters staying away for the month. (apparently 29% of British people have at least stated the intention)
It’s my job to do something about this and try and get people through the door, obviously. I’m open to anything, up to and including the idea of doing a séance I’ve had bouncing around my head every time I think about the demon in the master bedroom.
We’re going to have Saturday night pub quizzes, because my Saturdays can’t get any deader. We’re getting real ale back on five of the taps and I’m inviting three different chapters of CAMRA in to test my stillage mettle. (yikes?)
We’re going to do stew. Actually, I’ve already done stew. Enough for about 8 portions are currently simmering in a slow cooker behind the bar, ready for the launch of beef & ale tomorrow. I’m going to the local bakery, Crumbs (EXCEPTIONALLY large viennese biscuits from which probably kept me alive in December) to get nice bread. It’s only gonna be £4.50 and I’ll make it fresh every day.
(tomorrow's is beef & ale, Monday's will be kharcho for Georgian Christmas so spiced beef with walnuts and rice, Tuesday will be chicken and mushroom, Wednesday will be chicken and tarragon, Thursday lamb & aubergine and Friday pork and apple, Saturday and Sunday I might get a little more creative if it’s going well - or slip into despair if it’s not)
My thinking here is if I start small I won’t be throwing much away (and can freeze it anyway) and if it goes well then, well, I’ll be making a lot of stew I guess. Judging by reactions so far, I think it might well go that way but a January spent stewing isn’t the worst one.
If I can’t get wet sales through pints, I’ll have to find another way. And who doesn’t want a nice bowl of stew in a bitterly cold month? A warm space to eat it in, a bit of chat. I’m pretty sure I annoy the staff by spending 90% of my time yapping to customers (not if we’re busy but…) but it does mean everyone now knows me and knows the pub’s under new management.
Handy, when you sometimes have to throw people out. I got called a “rugmuncher” for the first time in about 20 years last night by some men very much making the case for it. “You’ll be out of here in a few days, you scum,” one of them said. No I won’t, don’t make me laugh, I already know more people in North Heath than you do mate.
Other than that, what have we been up to here? I feel like nothing and everything all at the same time - I’ve only got two staff members (and two new trainees) and me so I am not getting outside the building anything like enough. But that does mean I’ve done quite a lot of things in it.
One of the ones I’m really enjoying is a project about Crayford Race Track, the last remnants of which are slated for shut-down in February. It’s fucking criminal to lose all that heritage, especially as the Crayford Kestrels were a successful speedway team and there was stock car and banger racing too. It’s been great finding people with the memories and passion of the place and I’m gonna turn it all into a short film to show in the pub some time later in the year.
(as well as finally making a trip to the dogs with my most unhinged regulars but needs must for footage, not sure about the plan to start in Bexleyheath spoons beforehand though)
Other than that I forget both what I’m doing and what I’ve done about 90% of the time. I definitely had something I was going to write about here but then I had to pour a pint and it went out of my head.
Oh, I’ve just remembered - I’m getting a bit frustrated trying to work out the history of my pub. There’s been one here since 1866, drastically rebuilt in the late 1920s in a way that’s meant the upper part of the building doesn’t correlate to the cellar. Or, I swear, most of the floors. Something entirely non-euclidian has happened here.
I’ve found some scraps of information online, including some old photos but if anyone’s got any advice where to look to get more, I’m all ears.
Someone wants another pint, now, so I better sign off. God, don’t they know it’s Dry January?
Hazel
x