Update: New management in 2016. Good luck! It should be a great pub.
You come to expect rude landlords and overpriced drink when you see a place like the Black Horse that screams (think, screams like a rubber-headed drag queen) ‘gastro-pub’:
But the overall impression I got was Basil Fawlty. The American that asked politely if the trail adjacent to the garden went to Marcham was treated as if he asked if he could take a shit on the bar (I wouldn’t ask, and with the way he bolted off to read his newspaper in the adjacent bar I wouldn’t have been spotted). However, when the three guys in ill-fitting OTR suits ask for their cheque, he all but licked their boots; the one paying read the bill: ” ‘Three new BUSINESSMEN exclamation mark.’ Is that us?” “Oh, yessir, yessir indeed.” What a dick.
He also appears to stock the bar with booze from the off-license rather than pay Greene King’s vig on the bar bottles (note the labels on the Gordon’s from a bar supplier versus the upside-down labels from retail or that fell-off-a-truck or may well be counterfeit):
Normally this wouldn’t bother me, but I really dislike this sort of money-grubbing little lickspittle. Stop in and take a wee in the fireplace next time you pass through.