THE PIG & FIDDLE - BATH, AV

Many years ago I was employed as a barman in the centre of Bristol. The pub was vast and a focal point for the jeering chavs and honking oiks of the city. Other than the occasional theatre-goer beating a hasty retreat within seconds of entry, it was primarily frequented by loud, vulgar and crass individuals with all the charm of asbestos, many regularly guzzling alcopops and lager and going all out to explode their own kidneys. Food was almost always served in baskets with chips, and the Old Bill would often be stationed outside in eager anticipation of the booze-fuelled idiots fighting within being dragged out to them by the doormen. The Pig & Fiddle in Bath is nothing like this. It has never been so, and I hope - saluting a magpie of a morn and wielding a cat around my head at midnight while barking like a sea lion at the moon - it never will be.
Anyhoo...
In a pseudo-descriptive kind of way, I think of The Pig & Fiddle as a really good old friend; the type of friend you can see every day for a coffee and a quick chat, or not see for ages and pick-up immediately where you left off. It won’t judge you or laugh about you behind your back, and it will always share its pork scratchings and its crisps.
It’s a friendly, welcoming place with a clientele evidently absent of jeering chavs. Sure, you’ll observe the occasional knife-licker or boisterous oik, particularly when football oozes out of the large-screen TVs. But proper people don’t have to get involved, often preferring to enjoy the vastness of the beer garden (nay patio, nay outdoor bit) as the afternoon sun bathes us all in a warm puddle of pleasantness, keeping us toasty on a chilly evening with patio heaters the size of a giant horse.
Food-wise, The Pig and Fiddle’s menu is pleasant and so fairly priced that on occasion you could be forgiven for thinking that you’ve received too much change. It is not flash - does not describe a cheeseburger as ‘drizzled’ with ketchup or offer anything with a whatever-berry coulis or jus. But it’s way more betterer than other places quite good an’ that, innit. Locally-sourced and prepared by chefs too relaxed and professional to hurl insults and pans at kitchen porters, bowls of organic fair-trade grass at thirty-quid a pop are pleasingly omitted from the menu - although if you enjoyed the TV show ‘Skippy’ (about a kangaroo), you’ll be delighted with the option to order bits of his relatives mashed-up with chopped onion and salt and shoved inside a bun with some cheese and a side order of chips. Bonzer!
For those preferring to ingest an alternative to animal-based bellycheer The Pig serves green stuff too. And the odd carrot. And plenty of things with cheese. There’s occasional live music and a table-football... table as well. Blend it all in with decor as interesting as a book, and with the good food and the generally exceptional service you’ll undoubtedly conclude the same as I: that the Pig & Fiddle is one of the city’s truly outstanding outlets for booze an’ that.

The Bog Report:

Sadly there is little to prevent ill-educated plebs either urinating on the seats of loos or realising the function of a flushing mechanism. Therefore it is a testament to the civility of the venue whether the toilets are maintained in accordance with this understanding. A bog without ‘things’ floating across the floor is equally as important as a kitchen without rats and fungus and in finality I’m happy to report that Bath’s Pig & Fiddle pays an above-satisfactory level of attention to its facilities. It would achieve a rating of about seven (out of ten), if indeed I had a rating system like that.