The Ackhorne
Website: http://www.theackhorne.co.uk/
Walking time: Two minutes 38 seconds
Real ale: Yes
Food: Yes
Pickled eggs: Yes
The Ackhorne is one of my locals. (As a resident of York I am allowed to have more than one.) The Ackhorne is on St. Martin's Lane, a snickleway between Micklegate and Bishophill running next to the spooky (is there any other kind?) medieval church of St. Martin-cum-Gregory. A snickleway that, alas, can sport more than its fair share of pavement pizza. While the pub is neatly tucked away, its proximity to Micklegate leaves it vulnerable to visits from the wasted and scantily clad. However, it is far more likely to be used as a pre-club warm-up rather than the scene of irritating hen night shenanigans, and weekday nights tend to be quiet. There is a resident black cat, who, while she does not express interest in you, graciously does not mind if you sit in her pub.
The Ackhorne is open from noon and serves food, so it makes a nice place for a break. The afternoons see a handful of regulars who stop in for a pint and a skimming of the papers. There is usually a copy of The Press (York's local rag) around, and also, unfortunately, the Daily Mail. And I am not the only person to sit with Old Rosie and do some writing.
I don't think I've actually ever had a beer at the Ackhorne. This is only because they always have Old Rosie on tap. Old Rosie is my favourite scrumpy in all the world: cloudy, not too sweet. A half of that makes you feel like everything is going to be all right. More than one and you are ready to take on the world. Geoboy has had the real ale here and gives it the thumbs up. He recommends the Roosters Yankee.
The food is standard hearty pub fare, nothing special, but good value: generous portions for not much money. A giant bowl of vegetarian chili with chips set me back a fiver and kept me sated for many an hour.
The popular Ackhorne pub quiz is held on Sunday nights. I've done it once, and found it a bit hard, but it was fun. They put free food out which is a nice touch. Anyone caught using his phone to cheat gets the pub cat thrown in his face. And the team with the lowest score wins a pickled egg. With an incentive like that, why try to win?
