So far, in the Cidersense blog, I’ve only written about ciders, but I’m branching out into venues. I’ve been listening to the BBC ‘Uncanny’ podcast, about ghosts and stuff. It’s canny good, and I was inspired to visit a haunted pub. Today, I’m on the loose in Spitalfields, east London. The Ten Bells would have been ideal – it’s riddled with ghost stories, even someone I know heard kids running around upstairs when he used to sleep on the floor with a Rottweiler, when it was a strip bar – but it’s standing room only on this Saturday afternoon. In fact, most pubs around the market are jam-packed with people wearing tiny hats and massive trousers, but I know one that might be quieter, and has some dark history, so I turn off Brick Lane and down Cheshire St …
The Carpenter’s Arms was bought by top 60s gangsters, The Krays, to give to their mother, Violet. And it’s where Reggie Kray drank before they went off to a party in Stoke Newington and killed Jack ‘The Hat’ McVitie. It still retains an independent, traditional pub feel, and hasn’t been turned into one of those baby-friendly gastro pubs, where you have to have a screaming child just to get in, and you feel vulgar if you only ask for a pint, without the sweet potato, pumpkin seed and tarragon wellington. And a glass of mineral water.
They do do food though – snacks, and several burger options, by chef Enrico Casti. The cider selection is minimal (though there’s a decent beer selection), but they do have a Crafty Apple, so, my choice is made.
The front section is full of hipster kids and posh people. The back section has a proper East End couple, – complete with flat cap, and faded star tattoo behind one ear – and a bloke on his own. I feel I fit in there much more, and take a spot in the comfy bench to people watch.
I imagine Ronnie and Reggie sitting by the roaring fire, sharpening their knives. Apparently, they liked the pub because it was narrow, with only one entrance, so they could see who was coming in. Before they killed them. The place would have been filLed with fag smoke then, now, the gentle sound of world jazz lilts through the chatter.
“Oo, but what’s the décor like?” I hear you say. The pub has dark wooden panelling and buttoned leather benches, and the traditional cast iron-based pub tables. And lots of old East End photos.
Thankfully, today, I’m not off to exterminate any rivals – as it’s a Saturday. It’s just gone 4pm and the joint is hotting up now, as hipsters finish shopping for tiny hats, massive trousers, the most unusual tote bag, and shorts for dogs.
Crafty is a medium, slightly hazy 4.5% cider, but you can taste the real apples in it.
I’m tempted to stay for a porter, but it’s not as peaceful as it was. However, I bundle my way through a massive pile of geezers,crowded round the bar – some wearing German scarves – and I return to the Freaks & Geeks corner with a pint of porter, to contemplate the possibility of me wearing a flat cap and suit next time I visit, for added authority.
Back in the day, when Shoreditch was cool, this place was always packed, but I’ve read it suffered poor custom, and might have been turned into trendy flats if it wasn’t for the new owner. I hope you’ll give a thought for public house history and check it out. Especially mid-afternoon, when the staff aren’t so busy.
Chatting to my East End couple neighbour, her granny used to live round here and knows all about it. I’m pleased they don’t give me the old “Salt of the Earf, they was, never done noffing to no-one what didn’t deserve it!”.
But now … I’m off to a party.
And I’ve got a Swiss Army knife …
cidersense 