Fox and Firkin man keeps on brewing his ale

Press, 19 April 1985, Page 12

Fox and Firkin man keeps on brewing his ale

By

KEN COATES

Remember David Bruce, the young Englishman who was making a name for himself buying up run-down London pubs, installing mini brewery plants on the premises, and producing real ale? He is still at it, and has just opened his seventh London pubbrewery, the Flounder and Firkin. I reported the opening of his second brewery-cum-pub in Lewisham High Street, south London, five years ago, and had the pleasure of sampling his excellent product. He had turned a notorious trouble spot, Flannaghan’s Blackpool, into the up-market Fox and Firkin. (A firkin is an old-time measure equivalent to nine gallons, or almost 50 litres.) At the time, Bruce, who was on the dole only 12 months before, had mortgaged his Clapham house and borrowed heavily to open the Goose and Firkin, in Southwark, and then the Fox. The old lame-duck Duke of York, just across the Thames from the City, boarded up and in disrepair, soon became a golden goose, especially under Bruce’s policy of providing tasty lunches, and a pint. With the Fox helping him towards his dream of $1 million turnover a year, he talked optimistically about making a survey of prospects for doing the same in New Zealand — that is, if the strict licensing laws and the beer barons would allow him. Since then, the man with an eye to Britons’ liking for beer he claims is superior and stronger than the mass-produced product,

has had more than enough to keep him busy at home. His latest venture is a $700,000 investment in the transformation of a former Allied Breweries pub into a freehouse with its own brewery. The pub, formerly the Highbury Brewery Tap, is on the original site of Willoughby’s Brewery, which brewed between 1815 and 1914. Not only can Highbury again boast its own brewery, says David Bruce, but customers have a choice of either viewing the brewery through port-holes in the floor, or watching shoals of tropical fish in a huge aquarium. As the big brewers close down even more of their breweries and convert many of the pubs into “cocktail bar-brasseries,” Bruce continues to expand by sticking to his “back to the basic boozer” concept of traditional pubs with no space invaders or fruit machines. Since leaving the dole queue six years ago, David Bruce, aged 36, has created 120 new jobs and founded a business with annual sales now in excess of £2.5 million. He hopes within the next two years to sell some of his equity on the unlisted securities market, enabling customers and staff to own a share of his company. A man with a certain flair, Bruce as usual sent out invitations around London for the opening of the Flounder and Firkin. (Unfortunately, mine arrived just a little too late for me to make it to Holloway Road N 7.) A pity ... for the come-on was well up to his usual standard: “If you’ve BREAM around as LING as David Bruce and also feel

that good pubs in London are a little FIN on the ground, then cheer up: you can now CARP on to your friends that you’ve just FLOUNDER ’nother Firkin pub worth going to. “A free house, with its own small SCALE brewery, it really is a PLAICE worth WHITING home about. However, don’t over enthuse in case they say you’re just CLOWN-ing around, SPINNING A LINE, or that they’ve never heard a TRAWLER story. “If they don’t believe you, then don’t stand any CRAB from them, just insist you’re not telling TAILS out of SCHOOL, and that once they’ve tried it, they too will become HOOKED. “For those who find it easy to RAYS a laugh and are the life and SOLE of the party, get your SKATES on, OYSTER trousers up, and come and join the rest of us crammed in like SARDINES having a WHALE of a time. “However, if you feel your life lacks PORPOISE, or that you haven’t yet realised your true po-TENCH-ial, don’t waste time seeing a brain STURGEON, or repeatedly asking yourself Shakespeare’s question, “TURBOT or not TURBOT?” _ “All you need to do is come and see us — you can always be SHORE of a WHELK-ome and on cold, chilly days, we’ll soon warm the COCKLES of your heart by putting more COLEY on the fire — Scar-GILL permitting of course.

“Some of the Big Brewers may well think David Bruce runs a FLY by night operation and that his efforts are just small FRY. “Other brewers think that what he has done to some of their old pubs is money for old TOPE, and in fact they are now beginning to MUSSELL in on his act. “However, he knows SPRAT you can’t play a new TUNA on an old fiddle. In any case they’ll never manage to WINKLE any secrets out of him as they are as secure as a CHUB lock. “Some people CAST aspersions and even think it’s a load of POLLACKS to say that draught BASS tastes better than any of Bruce’s beers, but it’s no FLUKE that his pubs continue to thrive. “Now and again some silly old TROUT who’s GRAYLING around the temples comes in wearing a HERRING aid, and sits down near the vase of DOLPHIN-iums. “Sadly, there’s NET much chance of her appreciating the beer as her taste buds are probably already KIPPER-ed and it looks as if it won’t be long now before she drops off the PERCH anyway. “One hardly dares ROACH the subject for fear of ROCKLING the BOAT, but if you ever get a STICKLE-BACK of your throat, don’t forget it can be a BRILL idea just to SINKER PIKE of Bruce’s. “Don’t make a ROD for your own back by ordering your drinks with BAITED breath, otherwise you may well find they are just

PLANKTON the bar without even so much as a thank you. “If there happens to be a POUTING BLONDE or brunette in your life, don’t let her BARRACUDAseIf in at home in high GUDGEON. Try to get her out sometimes by asking ‘SHOAL we go out for a quick drink?’ “If she refuses, then don’t SNAPPER ’ead off, but ask her to MULLET over for a while, after which you can TACKLE the subject again. “To help soak up the booze, we pride ourselves in being DAB hands at producing home-made GRUB. “After a busy morning, you may well feel like stopping for a BITE of LOACH, in which case why not try our FISH pie — you’ll never have SMELT anything like it, and there’s no chance of catching SALMON-ella. “Although our menu is extensive,

we were CAUGHT out recently by a SPAWN-again Christian asking if we served MONK-fish, but unfortunately we had to apologise and say we had NUN. “When you feel BLOATER-ed after eating, take off your 818, have a coffee or a cuppa CHAR, which can be sweetened with either caster sugar, or LUMP SUCKER, and hopefully you won’t suffer from HALIBUT-osis. “Musical entertainment varies from listening to a German OPAH band, dancing the CONGER or a few Scottish REELS, but every evening ends with a solemn rendering of COD Save the Queen. “If you feel as if you’ve HADDOCK ’nough to drink then don’t DACE with death by trying to WEEVER in and out of the traffic. Leave the car. It’s only two MINNOWS walk to the Underground, or you could always hitch-HAKE home. . .”