When I realised I had an opinion on that old pub maxim of+ whether they should serve food. I am sat in the new Pilcrow Pub in Manchester. I’m alone amongst the fresh, pristine surroundings of the community pub supposedly built by the people. I’m not feeling the need to write about this new addition whilst enjoying my beer; other pens will write the reviews I’m sure. But I am peckish; specifically desiring something warm and tasty in a way that a bag of crisps will not appease. I’ve been soaking in the new build for over an hour and a half at this point and the fourth beer of the day is making me crave something to settle the beer. I realise at this point I have been somewhat spoilt in more recent times with the availability of food in pubs/bars. Yet is spoilt the right word? It is more that I’ve had the choice for substance when it’s been necessary. Just seven days earlier to this moment I was visiting London and some of its various open bars and breweries