Until recently, people would say Tamworth has “seen better days”. These people referred, presumably, to sometime around 700AD. Back then, Tamworth was the seat of King Offa, leader of Mercians and oft-regarded as the most powerful English king pre-dating Alfred the Great. From his base at the town’s Norman Castle, Offa oversaw Mercia’s transition to a ruthless and feared Kingdom, such to the extent that he wrested power from the hands of Jænberht, the Archbishop of Canterbury, to lord over Kent, Essex, Sussex, and East Anglia. But it was mostly downhill after that.
Until 2017. Like a pre-Offan Mercia, the Midlands CAMRA (that’s the Campaign for Real Ale) branch never really got a look in in the annual CAMRA pub of the year contest. Elsewhere kingdoms, say Sheffield or East Anglia, reigned supreme, while we took solace in our other specialities: iron ore and balti. Now? All change. Tamworth has modernised; it has ‘got with the programme’. It has done this by alighting on two cutting edge means of asserting its prowess in this tricky 21st century: beer and potatoes.
Let’s not waste our ink on potatoes, except to nod appreciatively at Spud Man, the pink Mohawked jacket potato salesman who has, in recent years, achieved global fame from his Tamworth potato van by means of his social media videos. No, today is about beer, which is why I greet you at the doorway of the Tamworth Tap, T minus two hours before the ribbon is cut on Tamworth’s great Anthesteria of Ale: The Tamworth Beer Festival. But I’m not here to make merry. I’m here to try and work out how this pub has cemented its status as the UK’s best, such to the extent that there are now murmurings of discontent in the smoke-filled backrooms where the nation’s CAMRA branches gather. The Tap has been voted the best pub in the country three years out of the last four – a record – and is the favourite this year, having just been crowned West Mids pub of the year (again). As one of my CAMRAmen says: “can’t they let someone else have a go for once?”
The beautifully curated Tamworth Tap exterior. Photos: Aaron Law / The Dispatch.
CAMRA was of course started, as its name suggests, as a Campaign for Real Ale. It began life in 1971, back when British beer was essentially alcoholic dishwater, and to be a craft ale drinker was a confession of some vile perversion. But that campaign has proved as successful as Offa’s subjugation of East Anglia and the West Saxons, and real ale is now everywhere. So now they campaign for other other things, or else just hang out and have a beer. They also give out awards.
“It’s deeply political,” says Matthew Curtis, CAMRA member and author of several books about pubs. Curtis has never been to the Tap, but he plans to soon. He is one of many in the beer world of the view that the same pub shouldn’t keep winning. “I think there’s some favouritism and bias among the selection committee. I think it's quite narrow minded that they keep giving it to the same pub”. Do landlords get pissed off when the Tap wins every year? “Absolutely,” he says. “When a pub wins it gets a lot of attention. Any pub worth its salt would want to win.” I’m told separately of another Midlands landlord who threw a “big tantrum” about the awards and has since been refusing to acknowledge the competition at all as “there isn’t any point”.
This story is free to read - you just need to join our mailing list. And why wouldn't you? By becoming a Dispatch subscriber, you'll get our scoops, features, and insights, in your inbox, the second we hit publish. No card details required.
Already have an account? Sign In
