The Griffin’s Snack Cabinet, Ranked: What Earns Its Place Beside a Proper Pint

At The Griffin, the snack cabinet is not a waiting room for dinner. It is the undercard, the support act, the thing that keeps a pint company while a conversation finds its feet. So we have done the hard work: a pint-by-pint audit of the bar-top regulars, ranked not by fashion but by function. The rules were simple. Does it make the next mouthful of beer taste better? Can you eat it without abandoning your glass? And would a Danbury regular defend it to the last crumb?

How the Bar-Top XI Was Picked

We judged on salt, crunch, fat, shareability and the all-important hand-to-glass ratio. A good bar snack should not require a knife and fork, a committee, or a trip to the loo to wash your fingers. It should sit quietly beside a pint, then step up when needed. We also asked the bar staff, a few regulars and one man who claims to have tried every packet in Essex since 1998. His word carried weight.

This is not a list about fancy bar food. It is about the small, salty things that make a pub pint feel complete. And because the nights are drawing in, we have added a few seasonal notes for anyone ordering at The Griffin this month.

1. Pork Scratchings — The Captain

No surprise at the top. A proper scratching is the pub snack in its purest form: pork, salt, crunch and a faint sense of danger. The best ones are heavy enough to feel like a purchase and light enough that you can get through a packet without ruining your appetite. They partner a bitter beautifully, especially something with a bit of malt sweetness. The salt wakes up the beer; the fat softens the edges.

Etiquette matters here. Do not take the last scratching without asking. Do not shake the packet near someone in a light-coloured jumper. And if you are new to The Griffin, order a packet for the table rather than guarding one in your palm like a secret. Scratchings are a social snack. They should be shared, argued over and finished before the first pint is half gone.

2. Salted Crisps — The Reliable Vice-Captain

Salted crisps are the most democratic snack on the bar. They do not shout. They do not overpower. They simply make a pint taste more like a pint. A good salted crisp has enough oil to feel indulgent and enough salt to keep you reaching back. They are the snack you order when you are not sure what anyone else wants, which makes them quietly essential.

The regulars’ view is split on thickness. One camp wants a thin, snappy crisp that collapses on contact. The other wants a proper hand-cooked job with a bit of bite. At The Griffin, the sensible approach is to order a bowl for the table and let the argument run. Salted crisps are also the best snack for a long session because they do not bully the beer. They sit alongside it.

3. Dry Roasted Peanuts — The Midfield Engine

Peanuts do the unglamorous work. They are salty, savoury and just oily enough to make a second pint feel like a good idea. Dry roasted are the pub classic: a bit of spice, a bit of dust on the fingers, a lot of flavour per handful. They are not flashy, but they are dependable.

The only real rule is portion control. A bowl of peanuts can disappear while you are mid-sentence, and then you are left with a pint and a vague sense of loss. Order two bowls if there are more than three of you. And if someone starts picking out the best-looking ones, they are not your friend.

4. Cheese Straws — The Seasonal Wildcard

This is where the league table gets interesting. A good cheese straw is brittle, buttery and packed with enough cheddar to justify its place beside a winter pint. It feels like a treat without demanding a plate. In November, when the pub windows steam up and the garden crowd has retreated indoors, a cheese straw with a stout is a genuinely excellent combination.

The catch is fragility. Cheese straws do not travel well in a pocket, and they do not survive a careless hand. Eat them at the bar, or accept a lap full of crumbs. The Griffin’s regulars seem to agree that they are worth the mess.

5. Salt and Vinegar Crisps — The Marmite Pick

Salt and vinegar is the most divisive packet in the cabinet. People do not feel neutral about it. The sharpness cuts through a rich pint, which makes it a fine partner for a darker beer, but it can also flatten a delicate lager. Order it when you want the snack to have an opinion.

There is also the etiquette question of the vinegar smell. It travels. If you open a packet at the bar, everyone within three stools knows about it. That is not necessarily a bad thing. It is a conversation starter, if the conversation is about crisps.

6. Mixed Nuts — The Diplomat

Mixed nuts are the snack you order when the table cannot agree. They offer variety without drama: peanuts, cashews, maybe a stray almond doing its best. They are less salty than crisps, less assertive than scratchings, and they pair well with almost anything on the bar.

The risk is that mixed nuts encourage picking. Someone will go for the cashews first, and someone else will notice. At The Griffin, the diplomatic solution is to tip them into a bowl and shake it. Equality is important.

7. Bacon Fries — The Cult Favourite

Bacon fries are not subtle. They are salty, smoky and slightly baffling in the best way. They taste like a pub should: a bit nostalgic, a bit artificial, entirely enjoyable after a long walk. They are not the snack for a delicate pale ale, but they are excellent with a pint of bitter and a low-stakes argument about football.

If you have never tried them, start with a shared packet. They are a mood, not a meal.

8. The Local Extra — The Scout

Every good pub bar has a wildcard, and at The Griffin it is usually something from a nearby producer: a packet of Essex crisps, a small pot of something pickled, a seasonal savoury that appears without warning. These are the snacks that keep the cabinet interesting. They do not always make the top of the table, but they earn their place by being local, fresh and a bit different.

Ask the bar staff what is new. That is the real insider tip. The Griffin’s team know which snack is moving and which one is worth a punt.

The Final Whistle

So there it is: the snack cabinet ranked, argued over and ready for your next pint. The truth is that the best bar snack is the one you actually want to share. Order a couple of packets, put them in the middle and let the table sort it out. That is how a proper pub works. And if you disagree with the table, come and tell us at The Griffin. We are always happy to hear a strong opinion, especially one delivered over a pint and a packet of scratchings.