The truth about getting behind the bar

Daniel Pearce

It's 8pm on a Thursday evening in late summer. I'm standing on the bar in a London pub and having to explain to the packed throngs of 150-odd people exactly why the service tonight may not have been up to their usual standard.

The thing is it's a team of journalists from The Publican pulling the pints tonight, raising money for MacMillan Cancer Support and completing the first stage of a trip around the country which will see us get to grips with the realities of working behind bars across the UK.

Our first port of call was the Butcher's Hook & Cleaver, a Fuller's managed pub in West Smithfield in the City of London.

It was 14 years since I worked behind a university bar in South East London serving up Diamond White and snakebite to the great unwashed. The Publican's deputy news editor Michelle Perrett and James Wilmore, our senior reporter, were jumping in at the deep end for the first time.

From my point of view, when it comes to running a bar everything - and nothing - had changed since 1992. The till looked like you needed a degree in mathematical engineering just to work it - but thanks to manager Paul Bancroft and his team we soon got the hang of it. Most difficult was remembering to take each order and put it through the till before getting it, resisting the temptation to dive straight in and pull the perfect pint.

And does everything really have to come in a branded glass these days? It seems like a system designed to complicate life for the poor barstaff - not only when it comes to grabbing the right glass for the drink but with stocking up the shelves with the clean ones as well!

But, of course, the people side of the business is the same. Whenever, wherever you work behind a bar, you're bound to meet some a***holes from time to time, but most people simply remind you just how friendly the human race really is. Just look at how much money they threw into our charity pot!

There was plenty of capacity for surprise on the night. We've all heard about the Magners effect but it was still a revelation to see it in full flow. Most

surprising was the fact that, despite Magners' over-ice proposition, many drinkers just wanted another bottle to pour back into the same glass.

Despite the excellent range of ales on offer, and the popularity of London Pride, all many customers

wanted was another pint of Carling. Among the bottled beers it was Corona which flew off the shelves, sending us flying down to the cellar on three occasions early on in the evening as sales heated up. Snakebite, however, was strictly off limits.

What didn't surprise me was that taking the money and serving the drinks is just the beginning of life behind the bar. Whizzing down to the cellar, stocking up the chillers - not forgetting to face the bottles outwards - and remembering not to grab the glasses by the rim were some of things we got to grips with on the night.

The three of us were all frustrated that just as we were getting our confidence up it was time for our shift to end. A big thank-you to Fuller's and Paul for making it happen - and roll on the next one.

Michelle Perrett​

Well, what can I say, my intention of wowing the City boys with my ability to pull the perfect pint

à la Bet Lynch (although not with the hair, those leopard skin skirts or that ridiculous make-up) was not quite as easy as I thought.

Being a typical girl wearing an unflattering shirt, uncomfortable shoes and trying to bat my eyelids all in one go didn't really have the full effect I intended.

In fact the pint of froth I tried to serve up as Carling and the pure disgrace of a seasoned vino drinker being unable to uncork a bottle meant I was truly excrutiatingly bad. Although I was enjoying the banter across the bar with rather stunned (at how long it took to get a pint) customers. And my total inability to work the till was a joke!

However, the customers were very sympathetic when I explained it was all for charity and were happy to donate their change to a good cause.

My bar buddy Shem was determined to show me what working behind the bar is really like, including trawling the floor to offer table service, heading to the cellar for replacement products, and cleaning ash trays (bring on the smoking ban as it really made me want to heave) while I tried ridiculously to chat to the customers.

I think I may have to stick to journalism as a career path but I did get a great insight into what goes into running a bar in the City. Lager and Magners sold like hot cakes, and the odd bottle of wine and even a couple of champagnes were sold across the bar.

The most frustrating part of the whole evening was my real desire to crack open a bottle of red wine for myself… Although it was not all bad news as I made more money behind the bar than either James or Dan!

James Wilmore​

Ok - so I'm a fraud. I write about pubs for a living, but have never actually worked behind a bar. Shocking isn't it? I've done stints in record shops, bookshops and convenience stores, but have somehow avoided working in a boozer.

So it was with trepidation that I agreed to get behind the bar for a night at Fuller's pub the Butcher's Hook and Cleaver.

How would I deal with the baying hordes demanding pints while I fumbled around searching for the appropriately branded glass? Would customers immediately rumble me as a charlatan?

It began with a whizz through training, which involved a tour of the pub, a demo of the till and a chance to familiarise ourselves with the products.

But within half an hour of stepping into the pub we were behind the bar and pulling our first pints of Discovery.

Fortunately we were each assigned a "buddy" for the night, who held our hand (not literally) and led us not into the temptation… of drinking the pint we had just pulled. And a grand job they did too. My "buddy" was called Monika, a sweet Polish lady who had enough patience to put up with my initial incompetence.

My only really hairy moments came when Fuller's PR chief Georgina Wald ordered two Bloody Marys and my mind went blank as I couldn't remember the ingredients. But it did introduce the debate of whether it should include Worcestershire sauce or tabasco sauce, or both. (I've subsequently been told it's both.) Orders over five drinks were also a severe memory test.

Thankfully the customers were sympathetic - perhaps they sensed I was a novice. But as time wore on I began to really savour the experience and the interaction. So much so, that when the manager Paul announced it was the end of our shift I was genuinely disappointed. It was a fantastic experience and one I hope to repeat sometime soon.

The Butcher's Hook & Cleaver manager Paul Bancroft gives his verdict on whether The Publican team was up to the test:​​

Michelle​

I've never seen a face so scared at the start of a first shift! However, the light shone through - Michelle with her bar buddy Shem came out tops, with the pair taking it on themselves to get out in the bar among the busy Thursday evening crowd offering table service. I'm sure this gave Michelle the edge on her sales figures. You need to watch those till errors though Michelle… I think a second trial shift might be necessary.

7 out of 10

Daniel​

Very eager to start, biting at the bit to get to those pumps and pull pints. Supported by Marta, Daniel had a good rapport with customers and seemed to be attentive to the customers' needs. Great effort. With practice and some guidance would make a good solid team member... job offer possibly.

7 out of 10

James​

The quiet one of the trio… except when it comes to chatting up the pretty girl at the end of the bar! James and bar buddy Monika were a solid and reliable part of the team for the evening. A little slower than the rest but then speed isn't always the way forward... job offer yes.