Different Class — The Rutland Arms, Sheffield
When I moved to Sheffield in 2021 the Rutland Arms bore a surprisingly moving bit of graffiti on its 1930s tiled exterior: ‘I love this pub’. Pure affection expressed through petty crime, and a great example of the kooky fandom this place cultivates. A drinkers’ pub, where there’s always a sub-£4 pint of cask ale on the handpulls but also an imperial stout on keg. Everybody’s welcome, just so long as you respect the jukebox.
The Rutty—as it’s known to regulars—is only 400 metres from Sheffield train station, though not on any main thoroughfares, so you wouldn’t stumble across it. From the outside the half-frosted windows advertise a ‘smoke room’ that’s long gone. The front door opens into one big room where low tables, a few booths and even a squishy sofa are perfect for big chats.
At peak pub times you’ll be lucky to find a perch for your pint (although there’s a decent garden for those of us who don’t mind putting a big coat on.) If you do manage to nab an indoor table, you’ll definitely notice the music.
Photography by Matthew Curtis
The jukebox policy at the Rutty is notorious. Insert your pound but choose wisely, abiding by the rules on the chalkboard above. The ‘permabanned’ list features local acts—Arctic Monkeys, Pulp, Richard Hawley—and the sort of bands that Guardian readers know they should never admit to liking: U2, Frank Turner, Foo Fighters, et al. And Taylor Swift, she’s also permabanned, though I suspect it didn’t need saying.
Staff decide what’s in the ‘Recommended’ and ‘Forbidden’ columns according to whims, mainly, with a hint of current affairs-based silliness. Even co-owner Chris Bamford can’t overrule it.
“Some of my favourite bands have been banned,” he tells me. “Normally not seriously… I’m pretty sure King Gizz[ard and the Lizard Wizard] was on there but it would have been related to the coronation.” A cruel and unwarranted punishment that was presumably shared by Charles Aznavour, Kings of Leon and Elvis.
In general on a visit to the Rutty you can expect to hear the unexpected, with a weighting towards indie, metal, rock and jazz. On one weekday afternoon visit I enjoyed a staff member’s trio of R’n’B classics that kicked off with Shoop by Salt ‘n’ Pepa, but apparently the most out-there choices aren’t choices at all.
“The shuffle setting is absolutely mental—Jerusalem comes on sometimes. It’s always quite funny because it’ll follow something like this,” Chris says, gesturing to the air, which is thick with the grizzle of a Megadeth single from 1990.
The jukebox (and indeed its accompanying chalkboard) has been a fixture in this pub for over 15 years, and was one of the key characteristics that Chris and his business partner Kate Major knew had to be preserved when they took on the lease in 2017. It was already a good beer pub—“the first place I knew of in Sheffield to serve [Swedish hype brewery] Omnipollo,” Chris says—and after Chris and Kate “breathed a bit of life back into it” the offering went from well-kept to world class.
Reet Pale from Sheffield brewery Blue Bee is your solid session cask ale, and among the other six handpulls there’s invariably something from South London’s The Kernel, whose pale ale is a permanent fixture on the keg taps. That spot used to belong to Magic Rock until they sold out to Lion in 2019, a decision representative of the Rutty’s preference for independent producers. Any exceptions, such as the selection of more mainstream spirits brands, have been allowed in order to keep prices keen.
““It’s a little bit run down, a little shabby, but everything’s in its right place.””
“[Ultimately] it’s not a vanity project, it’s a city centre pub and people are on a budget,” Chris says.
Jules Gray, founder of Sheffield Beer Week and owner of the nearby beer shop-cum-taproom Hop Hideout, agrees that its “high beer quality” is one of the Rutland’s key achievements.
“You can tell they have an interest and passion for beer—the global scene, not just the UK scene—and it makes people feel comfortable enough to take a risk,” she tells me. “People try [new] things in there.”
It’s certainly encouraged me to venture beyond my usual pint of stout. On one mid-November weekday visit I sampled a red wine barrel-aged wild ale with mango, pineapple and honeydew melon and a legendary barley wine named after Thomas Hardy.
Before you even get to the bar though, you notice the stuff. It’s everywhere. A mosaic of pub ephemera that would never sell at a car boot but somehow deserves display in this place: A dive-bombing pterodactyl, a massive cuddly husky, a Tellytubby figurine (Po, since you asked), hatred for Prince Andrew and Elon Musk written neatly on a bar slip and so, so many pump clips.
“I’ve randomly noticed me on the wall sometimes, which is quite awkward,” Chris says.
For The Kernel Brewery’s founder Evin O'Riordain, the chaotic decor is bang on brand.
“It’s a little bit run down, a little shabby, but everything’s in its right place, and almost anything can fit in there,” he says. “Any person that walked in, you hope, would also feel like they fit.”
Inclusivity is a priority at the Rutty, and the jumble of students, beer tickers, local workers and even football fans suggests it’s on track. As Chris puts it: “we all stick up for each other, and if someone is a dick, you’re out.”
The ones who aren’t dicks really stick around.
“[The] first time I applied for a job here I was told they didn’t have anything because no-one had left for five years,” says Adam Griffiths, who’s worked here for over two years. He took over as head chef last summer, when local legend Richard ‘Chef Rico’ Storer decided he’d spent enough time in their minuscule kitchen.
The figurative bread and butter on the Rutland’s menu is also literally bread and butter, in this case filled with chips, cheese and a rich tomato sauce. The Rutty Butty was born of its fun name but is now the headline act of the menu’s ‘ballast’ section.
Beyond the chip-based stalwarts the menu at the Rutty changes often, usually according to the chefs’ current obsessions. The menu can include lamb rump with clotted cream mash, black pudding and blackberries, or lion’s mane mushroom nuggets with teriyaki sauce, jasmine rice and furikake. Even better is the fact the food is all far better than it needs to be; just as adventurous and delicious as the beer selection, all at pub grub prices.
““We’re not for everybody. But we want to be for the people that need a pub like this.””
While the Rutland was their first venture, Chris and Kate have leased two other Sheffield pubs since. The Crow Inn, on the other side of the city centre, is just as into beer but a little less scruffy in terms of decor and (perhaps as a consequence) more popular with the local CAMRA Board; it won pub of the month last September. It’s also a working hotel, and its rooms are popular with those looking to spend a bit longer in the city, and really delve into its fantastic beer and pub scene.
The Harlequin reopened in the summer of 2024 on what is an undeniably sketchy backstreet off The Wicker, a run-down main road in the curve of River Don. Chris had worked there back when it was one of the city’s premier cask ale pubs, but it had since become a very different place: one regular described the previous landlady as “Sheffield’s J. K. Rowling.”
Along with upping the cask count to seven beers and three ciders and making a commitment to stocking independents only, Chris and Kate have installed a Progress Pride flag above the door to help exorcise any remaining demons.
Meanwhile, in a small way, The Rutland is starting a new chapter of its own. At the time of writing, Chris and Kate had just signed a new 15-year lease, which means it’s about to get spruced up. Nobody will miss the carpets, which are patched with the smooth slate grey of a pub-grime patina.
Just as grubby but more of a talking point are the doors from the women’s toilet cubicles, which bear some of the most silly, thought-provoking and even moving graffiti of any pub loo I have visited. It’s hard not to approve of someone taking a Sharpie to the pub just so that they can write ‘Suella Braverman would not lend u a tampon’ on the back of a door. I don’t actually think Chris was joking when he told me “We might end up putting them on a wall or something…”
Among Sheffield’s stellar collection of carpet-and-cask pubs, The Rutland is a mischievous teenager.
“There is a Rutland attitude that’s its own single-minded aloofness, almost. Which is what makes some people hate it,” Chris says, “but that’s the same with the best art, isn’t it? We're something quite in-your-face that if it won the Turner prize half the population would go ‘well that’s shit, innit!?’ And that’s OK. We’re not for everybody. But we want to be for the people that need a pub like this.”
