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Now you may be reading the title to this piece thinking that I may be about to ramble a derogatory tirade on a well-loved Leeds establishment. But before you jump to conclusions, let me set the record straight. I really love Belgrave. In fact, I have an affinity with the very building it inhabits. I am old enough to remember those four walls when they were Riley’s snooker club. I used to hang out there in my angsty teenage years, chain smoking fags like I was the 22nd member of So Solid Crew. Too cool for school – or so my ignorance told me.

Anyway, fast forward nearly 10 years and it would appear that some things haven’t changed at Belgrave. Gone are the soggy carpets and clouds of stale smoke, however the staff have managed to retain the look I had on my face at 14; arched eyebrow, tight lipped with a Regina George side eye thrown in for full effect. I think the colloquial term is “resting bitch face”.

 Having worked in hospitality as a barmaid and a waitress, I understand the importance of not looking like you are so disinterested in your job you would rather melt in a puddle on the floor and, more importantly, that there is direct correlation between the tips you earn and how much you smile at your customers. Even after an all-nighter and a shaky hangover I could still muster the energy to crack a smile at paying customers who have come out to my establishment for a good time.

The reason why I write about this is because as a joint I love Belgrave and the events, gigs and street feasts that happen there. The street food fest that happens on the second Saturday of the month provides a wonderful offering of the best street food Leeds has to offer. It is varied in its choice and the people running the stalls are passionate about the food they sell. The pizzas by the Dough Boys (who are residents at the Belgrave) are delicious and also half price on a Saturday. The fact that the stiffs behind the bar drag their feet to their customers with the aplomb of a slug just dampens the atmosphere.

I cannot understand how in a recession “you just can’t get the staff.” Never when paying for a drink at Belgrave have I heard any of the bar staff say thank you, let alone engage their facial muscles into a smile. Where did the belief that to convey an aura of cool you have to have a face which looks like it wished it had never been born come from? So, Belgrave, perhaps it’s time to move with the times and stop filling your bar staff with angsty teenagers, or at least cheer them up and give them a slice of pizza on the house.


www.belgravemusichall.com
1A Cross Belgrave St, Leeds, West Yorkshire LS2 8JP
0113 242 2066
Article by Erin Goodall
FoodGoblin Northern Correspondent