Can you sense, in my tone, the almost tearful relief of a man who was just grateful that a very long journey had not been wasted? Having schlepped from my home in southeast London, it did occur to me that making an almost five-hour round trip for a pub lunch was evidence of a particular sort of madness. It is hard to explain why I felt such a burning conviction to go to Leeds. Maybe it was all the exciting, positive things I had heard about Sam Pullan and Nicole Deighton, the Laddie’s founding duo, who had already done such an alluring restoration job on Empire Cafe, their acclaimed previous opening in the city centre. Maybe I was curious about this Yorkshire city’s apparent dining resurgence. Maybe, having spent much of the past year raking over London memories for a memoir, I just craved a change of scene and psychic geography..

I'n any case Pullan and Deighton’s overhaul of the interior quelled any jitters. The prow-shaped space is split in two: a red main bar area, edged in curving, oxblood banquettes, a 1960s Guinness tap box, ornate period windows and round tables dappled in rosy sunlight; plus an emerald-hued rear saloon, with a dinky fireplace, vintage Tetley’s adverts and tasteful soul music burbling from a perched Sonos speaker. At 1pm on a Wednesday, there were three beer-supping older guys stood at the bar, sharing a ravaged tankard of prawns and grousing about cycling injuries; evidence of the Laddie’s magnetic field and a reminder that reports of the lunchtime pint’s death have perhaps been somewhat exaggerated..