04-06-2016-The Red Pump Inn, Bashall Eaves

What a year this has been! Busy isn’t a strong enough word. Sue is finding retail work harder and harder all the time as the Sector strives for more profit from less staff, and most of her weekends are tied up with either horse shows or preparation for horse shows. I have been equally as busy, and am now mid-way through ripping another property apart and putting it back together. I have also gained a new granddaughter who I am trying to visit regularly as well as getting out in a dress from time to time! The result of such Ÿ??busynessŸ? is that when we go out, we tend to go somewhere last minute and it’s usually somewhere we’ve been before. Hence the lack of new reviews on here of late. However, the sun is shining, and we are trying to get our social life back on track. What better opportunity than the other day when our 28th wedding anniversary crept up and smacked us on the back of the heads. It was on the Friday, and by Thursday night, we had plannedŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?í. Nothing. What a surprise! A quick conversation revealed that we did fancy going out to celebrate, and Sue was happy to go out with Paula rather than the man she walked down the aisle with. Strange, but true. I left it to her to book somewhere, and she came up with the Red Pump Inn. Located at Clitheroe Road, Bashall Eaves, Clitheroe, Lancashire, BB7 3DA, you can check it out on http://www.theredpumpinn.co.uk on the good old interweb. We had tried to book here before in January, but it was closed for some refurbishment works, so we went elsewhere and put it on the back burner. It was now time to move it forward, and a further attempt to book was successful, with a table being left especially empty for us at 8-00pm on the Friday evening. I finished work, a quick visit to the sunbed, and rushed home for a shower and the usual transformation from something male and plain to something slightly less male, and plain. I chose a Khaki bodycon dress, complete with suitable matching accessories, black shoes and handbag, and the usual blonde hair. A small amount of makeup was applied, and by 7-15pm I was fit to travel. Sue had raced in just after 7-00pm and was Ÿ??whooshingŸ? around the house multitasking as only a woman can. By 7-40pm we were sitting in the car ready to drive the short journey to Bashall Eaves, arriving there about a minute early. The car park was pretty full Ÿ?? only two available spaces left, but I’m not sure where everyone was. The restaurant wasn’t particularly busy Ÿ?? about 20-25 people I guess. In fairness there is a bar section into which I couldn’t quite see, and there are also letting bedrooms, so that may account for the abundance of vehicles. We trotted in and made our presence felt, and were soon being shown to a nice central table in the dining room. The welcome we received was pretty disappointing Ÿ?? no one seemed to notice anything different about us. I haven’t quite worked out the psychology of it all yet Ÿ?? I spend ages trying to look as feminine and Ÿ??normalŸ? as possible, then I walk into a room and want everyone to stare at me. On the odd occasion I do get stared at, I then feel offended! What exactly do I want? Answers on a postcard please. Anyway, we sat down, and were soon offered drinks and presented with menus. Sue had a nice glass of dry white wine with ice, and I had the obligatory diet coke. Then, we poured over the menus, seeing what tempted us and what didn’t. It didn’t take long, and I had chosen my first two courses. Sue was only seconds behind me, and we were in a position to place an order. I started off with garlic and chilli king prawns, and Sue went with the woodland mushrooms in garlic sauce. The prawns were proper king prawns, served just as they had come out of the water, and I was also provided with a proper finger bowl complete with hot water and lemon and a serviette so that I could tackle them in a Ÿ??hands onŸ? way. I didn’t get to see much of Sue’s starter, as it disappeared pretty rapidly, but I managed to extract a report from her that indicated it was very good. Main courses soon followed on and saw Sue taking on butterfly chicken, served with the usual Ÿ??green sh*tŸ? whilst I fancied the belly pork which was served in a dish type plate along with a rich sauce containing mushrooms, tomatoes, onions, and all the usual things a cheffy type person puts in such a sauce. We added a side dish of onion rings, a side dish of hand cut chips, and a side dish of cauliflower cheese. The food was well presented and tasty, and after a few minutes silence, we were both sat in front of empty plates. The service was pleasant, but did tend to be a little amateurish. My first diet coke came in a wine type glass, and our second drinks order returned to the table missing my drink altogether. When I reminded our waiter about my drink, he returned with a pint glass of diet coke Ÿ?? a definite change from a wine glass. They also forgot the ice in Sue’s wine. The waitress asked who was having the chicken, so when we informed her it was Sue; she then asked who was having the belly pork. There were only two meals and two people. Having established who was having one of the meals, I would have thought that the most simple of logistical calculations would have revealed who was likely to be having the other? Maybe not. Perhaps I’m being over critical? To be fair, they were all young, and all polite. There is also a good chance that they hadn’t come across a real life TV before, so perhaps they were a little Ÿ??nervousŸ?. We thoroughly enjoyed the food, and can’t honestly say that anything detracted from it. As always happens at this stage of proceedings, we were presented with the dessert menus. There was a good choice, but both Sue and I were petty full and it had been a hot day, so we both opted for the ice cream. It was ô?1-50 a scoop, and there were several flavours to choose from. Sue had mint choc chip and strawberry, whilst I had chocolate and strawberry. Northing to report about the ice cream, other than it was cold and fattening. More calories to fight off! Sue finished off with a Cappuccino, and we had an interesting debate about the view out of the window. We had become slightly disorientated whilst entering and walking through the property, and so the view we could see didn’t seem to be in the right direction. Sue was adamant it was Waddington Fell, but I knew it was Wiswell Moor. They are exactly opposite each other, so you can see, it was a pretty strong debate, but I must hasten to add, it was a debate, not an argument. Not on our 28th anniversary! Further investigations after we left the building proved me to be correct, but we knew that already! Lol. Whilst dining I had checked in on Facebook, and one of our friends responded by telling us they were regulars at the Red Pump, so when the lady who we believed to be the proprietor arrived at our table, we introduced ourselves as friends of the said couple, and it was enough to spark off a more than friendly conversation. One thing for certain, she was more than happy to have Paula as a customer, and made it clear that she hoped to see us again. Once we had exhausted the debate about which direction we were facing, and Sue had finished her coffee, it was time to head for home. We paid the bill at the bar, and were made to feel more than welcome by the girl who took our money, once again being asked to return soon. The total bill was ô?65-65, so a tip rounded it off to ô?70-00. More than fair as far as I’m concerned. A different route home took us back through Clitheroe, and 15 minutes later we were back at home, kicking the shoes off and reflecting back over the day, and indeed, over the last approximately 10,220 days (not taking into account leap years). The conclusion of that conversation was that things have definitely changed! SoŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?íŸ?í. The usual three questions have to be asked, and then of course, answered. Is The Red Pump Inn TV friendly? Yes, no more to say. Not a second glance from customers or staff. Value for money? Already touched on this above. As far as IŸ??m concerned, no worries. Would I go again? Yes I would. Nothing jumped out that makes we want to go next week, but I certainly wouldn’t have to be dragged back screaming!