John Keenan's Qype profile

UPDATE: Currently at the Hanover, artist Julian Cloran is staging a retrospective, which traces the development of his painting across the last 20 years. It’s well worth catching – not least for the voluptuary ‘Tight Work’ and ‘Visual Diary’ and the visceral ‘Melting Doll’s Head’ and ‘Alex’. There are more fashionable artists in Brighton, but there are few that match Cloran’s energy, wit and power. Catch it while you can.

Some people believe the Hanover is all a good modern pub should be – discreet lighting, great food, cool music, understated decor; others find its patrons unbearably pretentious and prone to allow their little Tristams and Daisys to climb over the pool table as if it was some kind of play area.

Me, I go for the great ales, friendly staff and good company. Undeniably, the USP is Alexander’s Gastronomy. Light starters include Crayfish Cocktail (£5.95); white crab and avocado (£5.95); and smoked salmon (£5.95). Among the main options are Mixed Roast (hearty helpings of beef, lamb, chicken and pork with all the trimmings £10.95); saffron, squash and pea risotto (£9.50) and homemade pie of the day (£8.95). Pudding lovers can enjoy apple, berry and ginger crumble (£4.50) and Vahlrona dark chocolate tart, honeycomb ice cream, kirsch berries (£4.95).

The walls are currently adorned with works by Swedish street artist Hop Louie – and if you like Bansky, you’ll like these.

Qype reviewer Samantha said this place could do with a spruce up – and boy has it got one!

Out go the old regulars – no doubt drowning their sorrows over a shared tin of Special Brew on a park bench in nearby Dyke Road Park; out go the billiard table and sports TV; out go the dreary furnishings. In come soft leather upholstery, trendy lighting and smart decor.

The menu features, among other things, Tuscan layered bean and bread soup (£4.95), braised shoulder of rabbit with confit fennel and soft-herbed polenta (£12.50), and Sussex rib-eye steak with garlic butter and hand-cut chips (£18.00). At lunchtime you can choose from Italian deli sandwiches (£4.95), Ploughman’s with Torta Gorgonzola £8.95), and pea and courgette pappardelle (£9.50 - the old crowd thought pappardelle was a striker for Torino, but we know better, don’t we? Don’t we?)

The wine list meanders from Navarra to Napa County by way of Piedmont and Provence. Real ale buffs will enjoy the Harvey’s and Doombar. Some may find it all a bit ‘Preston Park pretentious’ but judging by the packed bar over the recent sunny weekend, most will find it a welcome improvement to the area.

Full disclosure: I was invited to a ‘beer and fish and chip supper’ at Bardsley’s by the PR people for BeerGenie (www.beergenie.co.uk), a new website which aims to deliver, it says here, “a treasure trove of trivia (and fact) on the sociability of 'beer' - together with a wide selection of free-to-use photography.”

Inviting a gaggle of hacks to drink booze while scoffing fish and chips is like asking a Year 10 drama group if they’d like to appear in Skins – try not to get trampled underfoot. Anyway, it was a sociable crowd which gathered last week, and if we didn’t learn a whole lot about beer, well, that would be like giving keyboard tips to Stevie Wonder. I went for Lemon Sole with San Miguel which, my crib sheet told me, ought to present a perfect match. And so it did.

Bardsley’s is a legend in Brighton and its location on Baker Street is only off the beaten track if you think the beaten track comprises Churchill Square, Sydney Street and the beach. It’s a stone’s throw from the Level. Don’t take the kids to the McDonalds on London Road – give them a life-affirming experience and bring them to Bardsley’s.

When the old brutalist Churchill Square was finally erased from the centre of the city, like the removal of a seborrheic verruca from the face of an attractive acquaintance, and the abominable sculpture ‘The Spirit of Brighton’ was consigned to the dustbin of art history, the Prince of Wales pub remained in situ, presumably to remind generations to come what pubs were like when people went out for a convivial drink, rather than getting lashed up in their own homes prior to inflicting their personalities on the rest of the world: an old-fashioned boozer, in other words.

It’s a Shepherd’s Neame pub and is festooned with the curious wartime-nostalgia that the brewery seems to think fits its brand. “They Don’t Like It Up and Under Them” says the blurb for Spitfire. What they make of the Bishop’s Finger is anybody’s guess.

The outside seating area allows you a prime spot from which to view the squabbling seagulls, fractious children and irritable adults which comprise the Saturday shopping experience.

The good news: the Dumb Waiter is what happens when an old-fashioned greasy spoon caff collides with a Tex-Mex short-order joint and a little North Laine hippiedom gets chucked into the mix. I plumped for the Dumb Huevos (chorizo, peppers, onions, wrapped in poached eggs) but the Full English also looked good and no doubt the Nut Burgers will satisfy the stomach while soothing the conscience of non-omnivores.

The bad news: the staff. The attitude seems to be that they have called in to catch up on each other’s social life and that customers are an impertinent interruption. Waiting to be served is a bit like listening to a group of friends read their Twitter-feeds to each other. Fascinating. I’m all in favour of slow food, but not because it’s held up by inane prattle. That’s my job.

If only the waiting staff were as silent as the name suggests...

Almost 20 years after Nelson thwarted the axis of evil off the south-west coast of Spain, this pub was rebuilt, refurbished and renamed. Perhaps in 2525 (if man is still alive) it will get a new lease of life as a gastropub called The General Petraeus; perhaps not.

It features a mish-mash of naval knick-knacks, Victoriana and 1920s tiling. The menu is similarly diverse - fish pie, Moroccan tapas, ribeye steak, Greek Meze. It must be like the United Nations in the kitchen. “Get me Kofi!” “Do you want that decaff?”

There’s plenty to feast your eyes on at Madame Geisha at the moment. Artists from Brighton to London have gone head-to-head in a creative battle for imaginative supremacy. There’s no spirit of collaboration here: “It’s our chance to show those coastal numpties who’s the boss!” declares one capital-based guerrilla. Cripes!

The payoff for diners and drinkers is a broad and lively show of current art: Jo Peel, Sinna One, Ryca and Remi Rough are among those doing battle from now until August 5.

You don’t have to know your MOMA from your Dada to have a good night out at Madame Geisha, but for the next few weeks it might help.

The good people at City Socialising reserved a few tables at the Sidewinder yesterday and a large and enthusiastic crowd gathered to watch England progress to the quarter finals of the World Cup. Enough ink has been spilled and blogosphere space filled with verdicts on that debacle, so I’ll confine myself to the venue.

It’s spacious, sofa-strewn and staffed by friendly, helpful types. Judging by the flyers and posters pasted around the place, it goes big on theme nights and booze offers. As it was Sunday lunchtime (or thereabouts), I went for the roast beef – not incredible, but it was tasty and filling and fair value.

The outside area was perfect for smokers, sun-lovers and those who could bear no longer to watch the sorry saga unfolding on the television screens...

Any hardy souls in Brighton, who hadn’t sung themselves hoarse during England’s noble victory over (ahem) Slovenia, were given the chance to do just that at Lucky Voice last night. Qype launched its brand on the Sussex seaside with a multi-pronged attack.
In the live lounge, set up conveniently near the bar, a raft of local talent provided musical entertainment. Singer-songwriter Gemma Williams performed a heartfelt semi-acoustic set including a rousing Jamie T cover. Mike Wilton turned in a bluesy performance demonstrating an expert handling of the Gibson SG. A particular highlight was one of my all-time favourite songs, ‘Thirteen’ by Alex Chilton (‘Please tell your dad get off my back/Tell him what we said ‘bout ‘Paint it Black’/Rock and Roll is here to stay). A very rock and roll moment occurred in the form of an avocado-shaped maraca hurled in the direction nose of drummer Box, who along with Louis forms half of local combo Spoken Spires. Bloodied but unbowed, Box played on. Keith Moon would have been proud.
Upstairs, karaoke king Steve channelled Michel Jackson, James Brown, Robbie Williams and a host of lesser gods while cocktail-fuelled wannabees joined him at the mic for the ineluctable ‘Don’t You Want Me’ and, somewhat more surprising, a vigorous version of Sid Vicious’s ‘My Way’ performed by Sussex Healers. It was a bit startling to hear these usually sedate and charming ladies declare ‘I’m no effin’ ceeee’ but that’s the effect of a Kamikaze Blue, I guess.
Delicious Thai canapés were provided by Lemongrass.
Today Brighton, tomorrow... well, like Fabio Capello, let’s take things one game at a time.

Pool Valley coach station is not the most scenic of Brighton spots, but if you just got into town – or are waiting to head out – you could do worse than check out this new kid on the block.
The stir-fry favourites are here - sweet chilli and holy basil; fresh ginger sesame and soy; Thai oyster sauce. Noodle soups feature Tom Yum (rice noodles in hot and sour coconut broth), Yen Ta Pho (a light and sweet broth served with fresh bean sprouts, greens, coriander and spring onion), and Laksa (egg noodles cooked in coconut milk, star anise and tamarind pulp).

If Thai food really doesn’t do it for you, you needn’t go hungry. Celebrate your departure or arrival with an all-day English breakfast – with two black puddings. That should set you up for a long journey...

Coming soon - take away, catering, cooking lessons, food hampers

QYPE DOES BRIGHTON

Any hardy souls in Brighton, who hadn’t sung themselves hoarse during England’s noble victory over (ahem) Slovenia, were given the chance to do just that at Lucky Voice last night. Qype launched its brand on the Sussex seaside with a multi-pronged attack.

In the live lounge, set up conveniently near the bar, a raft of local talent provided musical entertainment. Singer-songwriter Gemma Williams performed a heartfelt semi-acoustic set including a rousing Jamie T cover. Mike Wilton turned in a bluesy performance demonstrating an expert handling of the Gibson SG. A particular highlight was one of my all-time favourite songs, ‘Thirteen’ by Alex Chilton (‘Please tell your dad get off my back/Tell him what we said ‘bout ‘Paint it Black’/Rock and Roll is here to stay). A very rock and roll moment occurred in the form of an avocado-shaped maraca hurled in the direction nose of drummer Box, who along with Louis forms half of local combo Spoken Spires. Bloodied but unbowed, Box played on. Keith Moon would have been proud.

Upstairs, karaoke king Steve channelled Michel Jackson, James Brown, Robbie Williams and a host of lesser gods while cocktail-fuelled wannabees joined him at the mic for the ineluctable ‘Don’t You Want Me’ and, somewhat more surprising, a vigorous version of Sid Vicious’s ‘My Way’ performed by Sussex Healers. It was a bit startling to hear these usually sedate and charming ladies declare ‘I’m no effin’ ceeee’ but that’s the effect of a Kamikaze Blue, I guess.

Delicious Thai canapés were provided by Lemongrass.

Today Brighton, tomorrow... well, like Fabio Capello, let’s take things one game at a time.

I must belatedly add my congratulations to Zoe for her sterling work in getting the Brighton Gurus and guests into fine vocal shape for the performance of ‘Don’t You Want Me Baby?’

This was no mean feat – if I am a rock vocalist then Phil Oakley got his hair cut at Mr Toppers.

Many years ago I used to work for a trade magazine that served the licensed trade. Every now and then I would answer the phone to a voluble Yorkshire man who would announce himself thus: “Hello! It’s Mr Karaoke here. I invented it you know. I sold it to the Japanese!” He would then demand to know why I wouldn’t print this scoop on the front page. Lucky Voice is as removed from the world of Mr Karaoke as a Long Island Iced Tea is from a glass of Babycham and a packet of pork scratchings.

Like the cocktails served at the bar, a night at Lucky Voice is irresistible – you are unlikely to stop at just the one...