Paul Stammers enjoys a city pub that has plenty of character.

DID you hear about the bloke who went into a pub and asked if Chuck Norris was in the toilets?

Well, that was me. At the Royal Blenheim. There wasn’t any risque business going on. I was aware that the grizzled roundhouse kicker wasn’t actually loitering near the thunderboxes.

But one of several quirks about this traditional-but-lively watering hole is its fondness for the 80s martial arts star, above, as evidenced by the ‘facts’ pasted up in the loos, such as “Chuck Norris destroyed the periodic table, because he only recognises the element of surprise”, and the claim that Walker, Texas Ranger is sometimes screened. A few groaners cribbed from the Internet aren’t quite enough to make a pub noteworthy. But try this for size – ever wandered in to your local and watched cage-fighting, women’s rodeo or even yoga on the telly?

Or been to the women’s loos and seen framed horoscopes on the wall? Oh, you have? Forget it then.

WHAT’S WITH THE WEIRD TV?

Apparently the staff at the Blenheim prefer obscure channels because they feature programmes that can be enjoyed with the sound down.

I believe it’s so the iPod selection doesn’t get drowned out, or so they can chat with the regulars. A few lucky repeat customers have even earned themselves free puddings.

More of that later.

There was no rodeo on the TV when we visited on Sunday lunchtime, just cricket (with the sound up). At the door, two signs advertised that there was veggie food available, but no footy on the TV. (Rugby’s more the thing here, so expect a crush if you drop in when a match is on.) That wasn’t a problem. Nor was the fact that a few of the real ales at the pumps weren’t available – the selection was still better than the city average.

This is a White Horse Brewery pub, so tipples including Village Idiot are on tap, as well as guest ales, which included a mild and an amber beer. Belgian bottled ales could be seen behind the bar too.

WHAT DIDN’T YOU HAVE?

I’m glad you asked. We didn’t have puds, because the Blenheim doesn’t serve them.

It seems folk preferred to have an ice cream down the road at G&D’s, so the regular punters were given unwanted desserts before the sweet course was given the heave-ho.

However, the pub has a policy of seasonal stodgification – so it’s possible there’ll be sticky toffee pud in the autumn to accompany the more hearty fare that the students often enjoy.

What we did order was fish and chips for me and veggie chilli for my fiancée. The menu was limited, but appetising – jacket potatoes, pie, lasagne, that sort of thing.

Despite being warned that the fish had been cut into thick steaks rather than fillets (and to think the stuff is from the Covered Market, along with the bread and meat here!), I resolved to give the beer-battered grub a try.

The portions were heaped on Chuck Norris-sized plates – excellent value considering the mains here cost £6.95.

Tasty too. Amy found she was glad of the sour cream to tone down the chilli, which also came with wild rice, nachos and salsa.

My hunk of fish was somewhat more subdued in flavour, but featured plenty of meaty flakes encased in a light batter, with medium-thickness chips and plenty of peas. I was also pleased that tartare sauce had crunchy slivers of pickle in it rather than being merely a sort of tangy mayo.

WHO WERE YOUR FELLOW DINERS?

A mixed bunch, which it seems is typical: a bloke in a football shirt, some OAPs, a group chattering in Spanish. Charmingly eclectic.

DID YOU HAVE ROOM FOR DESSERT?

Mmm. Not really, but it was difficult not to resist. Now, where do you think we went for an ice cream sundae and an affogato?