CoffeeBeer >> Pint Pleasures >> Ripon 3


Once again last September, when my friend Mike and I visited Northumberland and Edinburgh, we then drove down to the city of Ripon to spend our final night. I had passed through Ripon once, and I spotted the outside of the cathedral. But that was all I saw of the city.

Located at the confluence of tributaries of the Rivers Ure, Laver, and Skell, the city of Ripon is probably most famous for its beautiful cathedral, as well as boasting a racecourse and being within an easy drive of Fountains Abbey. Originally called the nearly unpronounceable Inhrypum, Ripon was founded in the mid-7th century around a monastery established by Saint Wilfrid, and its cathedral houses the oldest crypt in England. A couple of hundred years later a nightly curfew called the Hornblower began. This involves a horn being sounded every night at 9pm in the market square to mark the setting of the watch. Over the next few centuries the current Cathedral was built, and Ripon became known as a centre for wool and cloth. By the 16th and 17th century it was famous for its production of spurs, and in 1836, following the Diocese of Ripon, it gained its city status. It is currently the third smallest city in England and the smallest in Yorkshire. So it was easily walkable for the two of us.

When we arrived early on a Friday evening, as soon as we had checked into our AirB&B, our first port-of-call naturally had to be somewhere for a pint. And within a very short walk, right in the city centre, we found the Portly Pig. This bottleshop and taproom consists of a small bar downstairs, with fridges full of cans, and more rooms upstairs. It was convivially crowded when we walked in, and the bar, where a couple of regulars were standing, seemed to reach out and pull us in.

After perusing the hand pumps and the keg list, I went for a pint of Static Kingdome (3.8% ABV, Wensleydale Brewery, Leyburn, North Yorkshire), which was a pleasant little hoppy cask pint, and a perfect choice for my first beer of our evening in the city. Mike went for a cask pint of Birdie (4.6% ABV, Copper Beech Brewing, Worcester, Worcestershire). Brewed with Simcoe hops, this offered a good grapefruity hoppy character. We took our pints upstairs into one of the three small lounges. All three were cosy and inviting, but we were drawn to one furthest from the noise so we could relax and unwind from the day’s long drive. We seated ourselves by the window where we could admire the gallery of framed portraits of famous and infamous porcines. I was a bit disappointed when I discovered the long shelf of LPs on the far wall were mostly disco collections. Apparently one can play these LPs; but I’m sort of happy nobody was at that moment. I mean, alternative, jazz, classical, or even country & western would have been fine with me, but not disco, please.

According to a sign in the middle room, the pub hosts an hour-long book club on Thursday evenings, and a sign described it as "a bus reader’s safe haven". It sounded quite inviting. They also host live music nights, quiz nights, and on Friday to Sunday nights they offer pork pies, Ploughman’s lunches, and cheese boards. So basically one can come here on the weekend, have a nice pint, and pig out.

Moving on, we walked north toward the Prison and Police Museum to the One-Eyed Rat. As we walked in, the place was very crowded with both people and dogs, which made me happy because I love animals. Once we got through the crowd and up to the bar, we found a good list of both cask and keg beers, as well as a very friendly barmaid. Mike ordered a pint of White Rat (4.0% ABV, Ossett Brewery, Ossett, West Yorkshire). Described as a hoppy session beer, this was just a nice drinkable pint of cask ale. I went for a pint of Serge Citra IPA (4.5% ABV, SALT Beer Factory, Shipton, West Yorkshire), which turned out to be actually quite wonderful.

Because of all the dogs, I was more than happy to go sit outside in the extensive beer garden which had quite a few four-legged patrons in attendance. We seated ourselves at a picnic bench located at the far end of the garden, where we could take in our surroundings. Toward the front there were patio chairs and glass tables, with a covered heated section just beyond that. Overall it felt quite warm and friendly.

Apparently the pub’s name comes not from a particular one-eyed rat, but from the sign which shows only one of the rat’s two eyes, like your average profile portrait does. I mean, if this were the general habit of naming pubs, we’d have a lot of One-Eyed Kings Heads, One-Eyed Red Lions, One-Eyed Duke of Yorks, etc.

I really liked this place, and I think if I lived in Ripon, for whatever reason, this could easily become my local. But actually I wouldn’t really choose to live in Ripon, because I’m a city person. It does have a nice spectacular cathedral, though.

Our final stop of the evening was another rat-inspired establishment, the Water Rat. Situated directly on the River Skell, this place was also really crowded. By this time we were hungry, but we were disappointed about what was currently on offer beerwise. We both ended up with pints of Jorvick Blonde (3.8% ABV, Rudgate Brewery, York, North Yorkshire), which is a very light ale, very lightly hopped so as not to offend anyone, I suppose.

We then took our pints out into the beer garden, where I mistakenly made a comment to a man sitting at the table behind us. Suddenly we found ourselves in a very short political argument, where we ended up "agreeing to differ", because the two gentlemen were on the other side of the political spectrum from me and Mike. But one of them was so interested in talking to us in general, especially with me as an American expate, that the evening ended up slipping away. When our food was finally served, my Portobello mushroom burger, although tasty, was impossible to eat because the brioche bun immediately disintegrated, and the two Portobello mushrooms insisted on slipping off of each other. In the end I finally sort of gave up, realising I should have gone for perhaps the smoked salmon starter instead.

In the end it was kind of a weird visit, and although I had been curious to go over and take a look at the river and see what the garden looked like in the daylight, we’d been distracted for too long and the night was already quite dark. Oh well, if I ever find myself in Ripon again, perhaps I’ll see.

Apparently the menu ingredients at the Water Rat are all locally sourced, and they have a Sunday carvery as well. The pub is within walking distance of the Cathedral and the Racecourse, and the calendar is quite full, with special evenings for the Real Ale Club, Thursday Burger Nights, Friday Fish & Chips nights, and a quiz on Sundays. So at least it’s serving the community well. It would have been nice if it had more interesting beers, though.

I couldn’t really find out why there are two pubs in Ripon named after rats. From what I’ve read, the names of Ripon’s pubs have changed frequently, and it’s probably just a coincidence. Still, as I said I like animals, and I did have a charming pet rat when I was young, I sort of wish there were more pubs around named after rats.

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  • HALLAMSHIRE HOUSE, SHEFFIELD: I stopped in here one afternoon in mid-March, just after I returned from a week in Porto. I first had a taste of Cloudy Lemonade (4.2% ABV, Vault City Brewing, Edinburgh, Scotland), which is a session sour. And it’s actually really good, just like all Vault City sours I’ve tasted have been. It was lemony in just the right amount, and sour in just the right amount, and there was almost a tiny hint of something vanilla about it as well. Of course, it’s Vault City!

    And as it was Sheffield Beer Week, where they’d just had a tap takeover by Black Iris Brewery, I managed to get a really nice pint of Endless Summer (4.5% ABV, Black Iris Brewery, Nottingham, Nottinghamshire). This made me feel like I was back on holiday again, in an endless summer, even though it was still very cold outside.

    Out of curiosity I tried a taste of Raddlesnake Grapefruit Radler (2.8% ABV, Black Iris), just to see what a radler was like. And I got the same impression as all of the bar staff: you can’t really taste any grapefruit, and it’s just bland. So there. I also had a tiny taste of Blackbeard’s Bounty (4.2% ABV, Black Iris), which is a coconut and chocolate stout. It’s really coconutty, but in a good way, not overdone, and there is a base of chocolate under the coconut. So it’s not bad; but I don’t think I could drink more than a third pint of it before I tired of it.

    Most recently, I’ve discovered the unfathomable joys of Red Mountain IPA (4.3% ABV, Thornbridge Brewing Company, Bakewell, Derbyshire). Basically Green Mountain IPA, but using red malts that create a wonderful red ale flavour, this is pretty much heaven. And Doug agreed with me. He assured me he had some extra kegs in, and there was also a cask version that would go on in a week, which I was really looking forward to. I immediately messaged Mistah Rick, a fellow beer-loving friend of mine in California, telling him that he needed to somehow come meet me here next week for a pint or two of this. I also took a photo of my glass of this wonderful coppery-red nonhazy beer and WhatsApped it to him. I mean, this is simply a glorious beer, absolutely glorious. And I’m so happy to say that donald trump and his MAGA cronies have no exclusive rights on the colour red. After all, here in the UK, red is the colour of the Labour Party, red happens to be my favourite colour, and red ales are just pretty goddamn special.

    I also had a cheeky taste of All Hands Are Human (5.8% ABV, Shiny Brewery, Derby, Derbyshire), with mango, papaya, guava, and passionfruit. And I have to say this was a perfect fruity sour, absolutely perfect, and quite gorgeous! I would have gone for a pint of it, or even just a half, if it hadn’t been quite so powerful for a quick afternoon pint away from the safety of my own sofa. But I highly recommend it.

    Another time I had a taste of Raspberry & Vanilla Chocolate Stout (5.4% ABV, Neptune Brewery, Liverpool, Merseyside). As it’s part of their "10 Years of Neptune Stout" series, I had to have a taste of this wild baby. The rich chocolate hit the nose first, followed by tart raspberry and extremely subtle vanilla. And there you have it: old fashioned tasting notes. But the taste was actually more like romping in a rosy glen with a very camp Robin Hood while friendly Tasmanian tigers watched from the trees.
  • TWO SHEDS, SHEFFIELD: One day, perhaps a month or two ago, I flew into this pub and had a pint of Wingsuit Gliding Pale (4.3% ABV, Triple Point Brewing Company, Sheffield, South Yorkshire), which was wonderfully hopped with Cryo Strata, Cryo Sabro, Cryo El Dorado, and Harlequin. Sipping this wonderful beer felt like a blow dryer on my drenched soul. Everybody I knew was getting really sick of the weather being exactly the same, every day for weeks: drip drip drip, with the only means of bipedal locomotion involving stepping through puddles everywhere while the murky sky crushed way too many people's spirits, sort of like the futuristic Los Angeles in Bladerunner. But this beer, oh my god, there was absolutely nothing here that didn’t thoroughly delight me in a whoop-whoop! way. It was like a refreshing clear sky in my face as I glided above the murky nimbus clouds. I felt like running out and singin’ in the rain!

    On a later visit, I went for a pint of Hormuz Island Pale (4.4% ABV, Triple Point Brewing Company, Sheffield, South Yorkshire). Hopped with Goldings, El Dorado, Idaho 7, Olicana, and Sabro hops, this was the brewers’ idea of what a Persian gulf-inspired beer should taste like, although none of the people at Triple Point had ever actually been to the Persian Gulf. With that interesting combination of hops, it was quite an enjoyable excursion, even though at this particular moment in modern history, I was quite happy to be physically far away from the Persian Gulf. But I thought maybe I’d have another half of this...

    And on a more recent visit I had a pint of Antelabbit Pale Ale (4.1% ABV, Abbeydale Brewing Company, Sheffield, South Yorkshire). Part of the brewery’s Mythical Creatures series, this quite excellent beer is hopped with Galaxy and Centennial, offering both tropical fruit and pine resin, which to me is a fine, fine combination. An antelabbit is believed to be a cross between an antelope and a rabbit, which is sort of difficult to picture how that could happen. But it’s like a jackalope, which is a jackrabbit with antelope antlers. So I figure an antelabbit would be an antelope with rabbit ears. Like mules and hinnies, which are both horse/donkey hybrids but with different parents in each case, I wonder which animal is which parent. I mean, a jackrabbit humping an antelope might be quite difficult, unless the rabbit has a ladder and the antelope is patient, but I can’t really see the other way around…but then I suppose methinks far too much. Just drink the beer, dear! (Or is that deer?)
  • WALKLEY BEER COMPANY, SHEFFIELD: Back in February I stopped in here and had a pint of Hollis Session NEIPA (3.8% ABV, Little Mesters Brewing Company, Sheffield, South Yorkshire), which was hopped with Cashmere and El Dorado hops,.I was surprised by the broad announcement of its star-quality hops from such a sensibly, quietly ABVed cask brew.

    A week after I’d returned from Porto, I stopped in and first had a taste of Sensoria New Zealand Rye Pale (4.8% ABV, Little Mesters Brewing, Sheffield, South Yorkshire) on cask. Hopped with Moutere and Southern Cross hops, this is really quite interesting and made me stop and think. I very nearly went for it. But then, because I really like the band, I had to have a taste of Blur (4.2% ABV, Farmyard Brew Co, Cockermouth, Lancashire), a Kohia Nelson Pale on keg. Hopped with Nelson Rakaia with Passionfruit added, that good ol’ Nelson produced that Ooohmh! swoon when I lifted the glass to my lips, so I naturally had to have a pint. I mean, I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help myself! I could only help myself to a pint of it and marvel in its beautiful glory. We’ve all been victims of love, and I’m so in love with Nelson hops.

    On another more recent visit I had a cask pint of West Coast Centennial (4.7% ABV, Blue Bee Brewery, Sheffield, South Yorkshire). What a pleasant surprise it was to see this fine Sheffield brewery again. Single hopped with Centennial, this beer was just a welcome classic Sheffield drop. And then, as I was thoroughly enjoying myself, I went for a quick keg half of Hoopla (4.0% ABV, Only With Love Brewing, Uckfield, West Sussex). Hopped with Citra and Motueka, this was refreshingly splashy, like a pale green icy cocktail in the guise of a pleasantly hoppy beer.

    On another busy Sunday, I went for another of my growing-in-frequency half-pint pairings this time of two light-skinned beers. But one was on cask and the other on keg, so perhaps I was sipping the idea of a traditional parent and their trendy child discussing the problem of racial intolerance. The cask beer was Toxitracy (4.4% ABV, Black Iris Brewery, New Basford, Nottinghamshire). Sadly, to my tastebuds, this seemed disappointingly nontoxic: an extremely light beer with just a hint of lemony citrus. I sort of wish they'd thrown in a magic dose of Mosaic, just to be traditional. The child was Conifer (4.6% ABV, Glasshouse Brewery, Birmingham, West Midlands). Fortunately this was a bit more exciting, but with that name I was really hoping for pine resin, which I wasn’t really getting. It could be that my tastebuds were just off on this particular day.
  • OLD SHOE, SHEFFIELD: On a somewhat boring Thursday after work, after a friend had cancelled out on meeting for a pint, I decided to stop in here on my own. And I was quite happy I did, as usual. Nath recommended another pale ale, which was all right but just didn’t really float my boat. Besides, since my mother grew up in the state of Oregon, in the town where the Lewis & Clark trail ended, I simply had to go for a slightly dangerous pint of Oregon Trail West Coast IPA (5.8% ABV, Elusive Brewing, Wokingham, Berkshire). And yum, this was nicely hoppy with a good touch of those Pacific Northwest pine trees I miss so much. It was also malty, but in a nice dry way, so it was more amber in colour. In fact it was really more of a red ale, a style which I always associate with my years of living in Seattle, and which I’m happy to see is making quite a few appearances in Sheffield these days.
  • ITCHY PIG, BROOMHILL, SHEFFIELD: Recently, on a Friday after work, I met a friend here before our meal across the road. Olly went immediately for her traditional glass of pinot noir, whereas I tasted a few before deciding. The Hop On Board (4.7% ABV, Tapped Brew Company, Sheffield, South Yorkshire) was a West Coast Pale on cask. Hopped with Bramley, Galaxy, and Simcoe hops, with caramel malt, this was distinctly bitter in a traditional British way, with a touch of tropical and stone fruits. But I ended up going for a slightly safer and much more interesting pint of Quizas, Quizas (4.2% ABV, Cloudwater Brewing, Manchester, Greater Manchester). Hopped with Mosaic and Loral and dry hopped with the lovely Nelson Sauvin, this most hoppy New England IPA was quite satisfyingly hoppy in a fruity way. It was a good start to the tasty evening before us.

BOTTLED/CANNED BEER UPDATE:

  • APA Edição Aveiro (5.0% ABV, Barrica Exemplar Cervejeiros, Aveiro, Portugal). I bought this bottle from a shop in Aveiro, on the Atlantic coast of Portugal, after an excursion down the coast from Porto. While in Aveiro we rode on a traditional barco moliceiro through the canals, and we were rewarded with a free ovo mole, which most of us found disgustingly sweet. But I enjoyed tasting the Aveiro mint-flavoured liqueur, and I also bought a bottle of this locally brewed beer. When I drank it back at my flat in Porto, I found it to be a simple ale with a slight bitter taste from a fairly even hops-malt mixture. It wasn’t bad, but it was a bit of a disturbingly hazy colour. I mean, not all American pale ales are hazy, by any means.
  • Harvest Bohemian Pilsner (5.0% ABV, Letra Brewery, Vila Verde, Braga, Portugal). I had a bottle of this when I was at the wonderful O Porto Dos Gatos cat cafe in Porto, while eating a delicious vegan sandwich with two cats taking naps on the bench next to me. What heaven! This tasted just like a good, sharply hopped pilsner should taste. I would have tried their IPA, but at 6.5% ABV it was just too strong for early afternoon, as I still had a lot of walking and climbing left to do.
  • Pink Marshmallow Sour (3.2% ABV, Censurada Cerveja Artesanal, Fortias, Portalegre, Portugal). Billed as an artesanal beer, this was just not very good. It poured into the glass as a pretty red colour, but I quickly got totally bored with it.
  • 2501 HOPulence WCIPA (5.6% ABV, Cerveja Artesanal Vadia, Oliveira de Azemeis, Portugal). After pouring my disappointing pink marshmallow of a sour down the drain, I opened this, and my hope was restored! A West Coast IPA with Cascade, Golding, Chinook, Wakatu, Nugget, and Rakau hops, I mean, now we were talkin’! This was just a proper hoppy IPA, amber in colour, with a full palette of hops character. Thank you, Vadia!
  • Super Nelson IPA (6.5% ABV, BAdlands Brewing, Caledon, ON, Canada). Hopped with Superdelic and Nelson Sauvin with the taste described on the can as tropical gooseberry, purple grape, and soft danky pineapple, I could actually taste the purple grape. But it was contained in a lovely classically hoppy drop. Strangely enough I found this Canadian beer in a micropub in Porto, Portugal. Just goes to show ya, you never know, as they say. It was a bit of an exciting ride on a funicular (which I had just done earlier that day), with the promise of a simple grilled cheese sandwich and a glass of purple grape juice at the end. Can a beer actually bring somebody back to their childhood? This was actually a really good beer. I kept falling asleep because I was on holiday, but then I’d wake up with a jolt, realising that what I was drinking was quite wonderful. It didn’t grab the sides of my tongue threateningly, but it definitely had a strong handshake.
  • My Barn My Rules (5.0% ABV, Shiny Brewing Company, Derby, Derbyshire). This is a West Coast IPA hopped with Chinook, Centennial, Sabro, Mosaic, and Nectaron. I drank this on a surprisingly hot and then cold day, back and forth and back and forth, prompting all of the university-aged women to expose their arms and as much of their bodies as possible. I mean, c’mon, it wasn’t that warm! And this was a day when my new jeans kept falling down because nobody makes a proper Size 6 skinny jeans any more. So just shut up and quit whining, JC, because this beer is like a romp through the hay near a tropical salad, with the ocean nearby.
  • Don’t Give Up WCIPA (6.5% ABV, Two Flints Brewery, Windsor, Berkshire). The can said that this beer, hopped with Mosaic, Strata, and Columbus, was hoppily balanced with resin and citrus, and "crushable". The can was actually very pretty, with layers suggesting green grass, red sunrise, and lavender skies. The beer was a very promising sparky lift to my palate after I’d recently experienced things like an expensive taxi ride across the foggy Snake Pass at night, and arriving home to find Andrew traumatised with no car or phone, and no oven, and the neighbour’s car being smashed in the middle of the night. But hey, I had just had a great holiday in Portugal, and this all would pass, so I wasn’t giving up!
  • Moment of Clarity West Coast Pale (4.8% ABV, Vocation Brewing Company, Hebden Bridge, West Yorkshire). Hopped with Chinook, Simcoe, Amarillo, and Nelson Sauvin, this was mmm-chop-chop citric resin heaven, and just what I needed after working on trying to organise so many things while keeping my head above water. Hopefully this would do what it promised. Just a moment, here and there, that was all I was asking...
  • In My Mind IPA (6.0% ABV, Burning Sky Beer, Firle, East Sussex). This is hopped with Citra and Nelson Sauvin, then dry hopped with Nelson, Citra, and Riwaka, and then some Nelson SubZero Hop Kief was added. Mmm, it was nice! I’d love to have been sitting in a really nice beer garden at sunset, with a light warm sea breeze passing by, and my accommodation only a two-minute walk away, so that I could have maybe two pints of this. But this was all just in my mind.
  • All Hands Are Human (5.8% ABV, Shiny Brewery, Derby, Derbyshire). This is a fruit sour with mango, papaya, guava, and passion fruit, and also wheat and oats, and the blurb on the can said something about polydactyl cats who have hands. But hands can also refer to bananas, or ship crews, or even the 1980s band Human Hands. This beer poured apricot-coloured, and since I tasted it on draft in the Hallamshire recently, I knew it was going to be good. And it was! Just the right amount of sour, balanced with just the right amount of fruitiness. This was a fine, fine sour, oh yes it was! Will Shiny become Northern England’s new Vault Brewery?
  • Minnesota (5.7% ABV, Nothing Bound Brewing Company, Bewdley, Worcestershire). This pale ale is hopped with Citra and Strata, and that's really the only information on the can. But since it's 2026, I guess the name of the beer says it all, doesn't it? This tastes quite great, just like a perfectly done US craft beer can be. I've never been to Minnesota myself, but I've known people from there, and I really liked the late artist formerly and then more latterly known as Prince, whose Paisley Park studio was in Minneapolis. The pretty magnificent taste of this beer heralds in the finally (and thankfully unfrigid) days of late spring in Sheffield, along with the hope that we shall all overcome the horrors of this era.