I’m a wine critic with a secret – I adore Wetherspoon’s

When British drinkers were asked to describe a JD Wetherspoon pub to someone who’d never been in one, their accounts – ‘sticky tables, grubby floors’, ‘toilets have their own postcode’, ‘hell’ – were both faintly damning and surprisingly misty-eyed, writes fan Rosamund Hall. The pub chain certainly has some of the best sticky pub carpets in the country

Wetherspoon’s has been, for many people, an introduction to the world of pub-going (PA)

JD Wetherspoon – affectionately known as “Spoons” – is a (questionably) Great British institution. Like or loathe its pubs, it’s a staple of the high street up and down the country.

It’s known for many things, not least its outspoken founder Tim Martin, a barrister by trade who bought his first pub in 1979, naming it after a teacher who had told Martin he wouldn’t amount to much. Eight hundred or so venues later, he is one of the most vocal British entrepreneurs – a vociferous supporter of Brexit, donating heavily to the Leave campaign, who continues to lobby the government about issues facing the hospitality sector, such as charging VAT on food sales.

Wetherspoon’s has been, for many people, an introduction to the world of pub-going. Famed for its inexpensive booze and food, it’s popular with both young and old.

If you’ve never had the pleasure, you might have been interested in responses to the request to “describe Wetherspoon’s to someone who’s never been to one before”, which went viral on social media recently, with nearly 3 million views and thousands of replies.

Highlights included: “Sticky tables, grubby floors, but always full of lovely people”; “The toilets have their own postcodes”; “Like a pub, but cheaper – and without music that sounds like an explosion in a pan factory or a car alarm going off”; “When I took my American wife for the first time, I said: ‘First fight will happen before midday.’ I was accurate.” And my personal favourite: “One of Dante’s circles of hell.”

Despite my antipathy towards the Wetherspoon’s owner, I have a real soft spot for his pubs. I currently have deep pangs of nostalgia, as the Spoons local to where I grew up is under threat of closure. It is a grand old Victorian watering hole, with an elaborate upper balcony and a huge dragon throne in the centre. On Friday nights, it would buzz with late-teen customers making the most of the cheap drinks before venturing “out out”. During the daytime, its vibe was more laidback, with seniors, students and solo alcoholics alike enjoying the quieter atmosphere over a full English – remember, there’s no music in a Wetherspoon’s.

Sadly, I fear that my old haunt will become yet another gastropub – which, ironically, is where you’d be more likely to find me now – but that’s just the point. If every pub is a gastropub, where do you go if you want an inexpensive meal, all the better for being served on a nice china plate made in Stoke-on-Trent?

Yes, the food is mostly bland, and the coffee decidedly average – but the local Spoons has served as a haven for many during the cost of living crisis. It may be frequently mocked as being a “seniors’ daycare”, but what’s wrong with there being somewhere that’s cheap, welcoming, and above all, warm, when utilities bills are soaring and you’re cold and lonely at home?

And while the carpets may be sticky, they’re probably some of the best sticky pub carpets in the country. Each one is unique to each single branch of Wetherspoon’s, and is handmade on a traditional loom by Devon-based luxury carpet producer Axminster Carpets. Such geekery about the carpets even has a cult following, with numerous blogs and Instagram pages dedicated to them.

And what about the drinks? In 2018, Brexiteer Martin ridiculously decreed that Wetherspoon’s would move away from selling EU-produced sparkling wines and beers. Though he did stop selling champagne, he has backpedalled slightly, as you can still buy prosecco. The chain sold approximately 100,000 bottles of Moet et Chandon NV Champagne annually, which has been replaced by Broadwood’s Folly, a traditional-method English sparkling wine made by the Surrey-based Denbies estate. While I dislike the reasoning, I’m always happy about pubs supporting English sparkling wine.

So while my preference now leans more towards “modern British cooking” served on non-sticky tables in non-disinfectant-smelling surroundings, I hope Spoons remains a staple of the British high street, despite some threatened closures. Everyone needs somewhere people might know your name – and for many, that may just be the 10th circle, created by Mr Martin.