By Phil Mellows
Last night, The Gun Inn at Findon (pictured) was crowned Great British Pub of the Year (GBPA) by the trade’s magazine, The Morning Advertiser. I had the privilege of being the judge who visited The Gun, a quirky village local a couple of miles north of Worthing, West Sussex, as part of the thorough process of choosing from hundreds of contenders, which began back in June.
It stirred in me a vicarious welling of pride. Weirdly. After all, I am independent. Without favour. I am expected to set aside emotions and stare relentlessly at the hard facts and figures. Which I did. Head judges have to fill in a checklist, scoring each pub against certain criteria, and coming up with a number.
This is helpful, but not conclusive. Out of the six finalists that reach the visit stage you often end up with two or three pubs with very similar scores. And the pubs are so different from each other, with different strengths and weaknesses.
Having done this job in one form or another since 1998, I’m increasingly convinced that what I end up judging is not the pub but the people who run it.
Unlike awards that focus solely on the consumer experience, trade awards like the GBPA try to get below the surface of what the customer sees, eats and drinks. A judging visit will include the kitchen, staff areas and the beer cellar, the most treacherous duty in an old pub, often requiring the descent of precipitously steep steps and ducking, frequently unsuccessfully, low ceilings. I have the bumps to prove it.
What am I looking for? Good standards of cleanliness and organisation, a sense that the people running the pub are as attentive to detail back-of-house as they are in front of the customer.
I can’t try every beer, I can’t taste every dish, so it’s really this operational underpinning that I’m looking at. And more important than anything is the approach, the understanding, the attitude, the ideas, the passion – a much-overused word, but there it is – of the licensee and how that transmits to their team.
So I spend time talking to them, hoping I get that feeling that the pub is in good hands, that the publican cares and has the know-how and skills to make it work.
Now, these visits are unannounced, and could happen at any time over a period of a few weeks. Sometimes I arrive and the licensee isn’t there. But that shouldn’t matter if they’ve left someone in charge who embodies the same values. In any case, there’s a follow-up online interview to clear up anything that might have been missed.
On one occasion last year, I turned up at a pub that was closed – but I met the cleaner who was able to show me around and make me comfortable until the licensee arrived. That turned out to be a plus. Though I had to mark them down for not properly advertising their opening hours!
The past couple of years have obviously been a huge test for the trade, and the awards have subtly changed. There’s more emphasis on the pub as part of the community, and how it engages with the people who need it as much as the business needs them. Those who’ve come through not merely surviving but thriving are especially close to their customers. If you want to be scientific about it, there’s an energetic symbiotic relationship.
And that came through the other night. Winners saw their pub as not just a business, but as something that’s important to people who rely on it socially and emotionally - and it’s something they’ve worked incredibly hard to keep alive.
There were celebrations and there were tears, too, because pubs are made of people, not mere bricks and mortar.
You can watch the Great British Pub Awards 2022 for yourself, and check on all the winners, here.
That's a real beauty. The sort of pub you yearn for when you're abroad. The type of pub you dream of during COVID lockdowns. Picture perfect.
Oh, and (almost forgot . . . ) a fascinating insight into the judging process as well !