The kilderkin (from the Dutch for "small cask") is equal to half a barrel or two firkins.
Until the adoption of the imperial system the beer kilderkin was defined as 18 ale or beer gallons.
With the adoption of the imperial system the kilderkin was redefined to be 18 imperial gallons, which is exactly 81.82962 litres or approximately 2.890 cubic feet.
On Saturday last week, we had an organising meeting for the Manchester Beer and Cider Festival. (Get it in your diaries Folks - Bigger and better than last year's sell-out, 50% of beers on main floor, 50% on concourse to avoid the stairs - and back at the magnificent Velodrome - advert ends.) One discussion was how to liven up the beer selection to get many more up and coming breweries in and to provide as wide a selection as possible.
I won't bore you with all the details of the discussion, but the Beer Orderer (a thankless task if ever there was one) pointed out that we had just discussed how tight space was at the bars and that we need where possible, in as many cases as we can, to get beer in eighteens. A major stumbling block is that very few small, up and coming, cutting edge breweries supply beer in eighteens (kilderkins) thus limiting our ability to order them, as we really need to maximise the utilisation of available space. Now this isn't the end of the matter, but I know this is a common problem with beer festivals. It might therefore be an idea for some breweries that find themselves excluded from certain festivals, would do well to point out that they can supply in kils. It would also be a good idea, where funds permit, to buy a few.
I also suggested that we should try and ensure that no sexist T Shirts are being sold at our event. We use the same guy as GBBF and while we can't be sure what the situation will be, enquiries will be made. I'll keep you informed as to how that goes.
Just a small quote from our website: "Once again we’ll be featuring some of the very best cask conditioned
craft beers available selected from the very best brewers from around
the country. From traditional bitters to hop front IPAs, through to the
most cutting edge sours & saisons"
Apologies for my recent silence. A trip to Russia and the fact my house is being torn to bits by builders, has precluded me from writing. Oh and my shoulder is still sore, thanks for asking.
The removal of a wall cabinet in what used to be my kitchen (I think) turned up these beauties. I rather thought (OK I know) I had a bottle of Bass No1 in there too, but before I accuse the building lads of supping or breaking it, I'd need to check through a million things that have been put elsewhere. One doesn't half tend to accumulate junk over the years though. This morning I've "enjoyed" reading through old love letters from my first real girlfriend - nothing mucky at all really - to my immense disappointment and loads of stuff about the National Insurance Act of 1975, which was a big thing in er, 1975 when I worked in, wait for it, National Insurance. I had lovely handwriting too in those days.
Anyway, a picture tells a thousand words, so without real comment, here it is. We have a photo of some old ales which are both old and strong and some which are old and aren't old or strong, but are indeed strong and old. All are in nips.
What's in a beer name?
You can see the skip in the background. Also have rediscovered many other bottles and glasses. Might show them soon too. Saves thinking anything up.
There has been a little criticism of the recently closed Great British Beer Festival (GBBF) around social media. It tends to centre on two things. A feeling that the Great British Beer Swally isn't inclusive enough in terms of welcoming women (in particular, the selling of sexist T Shirts) and of course the allegation that somehow there isn't enough choice (diversity) and all beer isn't represented.
Now the first is complex. In many years of representing Trade Union members (though not for over 20 years), cases involving gender were always the most difficult and emotive. (It was just as difficult as a senior manager.) The issues (whatever they might be) are rarely seen the same way by everyone and that makes reaching an agreed conclusion - or even understanding - problematic to say the least. Perception is involved and that's a very individual thing. Though there are usually some things that seem obvious, when you get underneath it, a solution is often not as straightforward as you might think. Now I must admit that I didn't even notice the T Shirt stand this year, but then again, I wasn't looking for it. I'm not a potential customer. I have it though on good authority that the same old offensive to female T Shirts were on sale. Tasteless and insulting I agree. Is the answer to ban them? On balance yes. Anything that makes even a minority of female guests at GBBF uncomfortable isn't a good idea and it would seem a quick and simple fix. It shouldn't be beyond T Shirt sellers and producers capability to find other more appealing themes surely? Thankfully I haven't heard allegations about women being denied pints or strong beer this year - or other mockings. Yet.
On the wider front, looking around this year, my perception was that a lot more female volunteers were working behind the bars (many in Bar Manager or Deputy positions) and many more behind the scenes that you don't see - in Staffing, Press, Hospitality and more. On the floor there seemed to be plenty female customers and most seemed to be having a good time, though maybe they were just putting a brave face on it. Is the ratio correct? We certainly had plenty happy women coming to the German Bar, asking for tasters, advice and then going off smiling. Hard to say overall as it is a huge event, but it seemed reasonably healthy to me and improving year on year. Can more be done? Of course. I'm sure the Organiser would welcome suggestions. I'm guessing the entertainment might be an area for improvement too for example.
Ah beer choice. Loads of boring samey beers and no craft keg. Well I have news for some. Most beer in Britain is "boring and samey" and almost all of it isn't craft keg . It is what most people like to drink and what most brewers produce, because that's what most customers want. There was plenty of more interesting and stretching alternatives though in cask and bottle and on Foreign Beer Bars. What you had to do is seek them out, just as you would in the wider world and at least at GBBF, within a few yards, you'd likely find them. "Not representative" in this case tends to mean "No keg beers from my favourite hipster brewers". That isn't the same as having no choice folks. It just isn't. CAMRA has increased choice year upon year - I know this as I've been going for 15 years or more - and who knows, things may change further, but there is no a lack of choice and quality on the whole, is pretty good. There really is something for almost everyone and rather than think what might be missing, with over 900 beers to choose from, a better way of looking at it would be to get on with what's on offer as there is so much to choose from. Of course, everyone scratches their head from time to time and wonders why their favourite brewery isn't represented. I do too, but with 1200 breweries in the UK, omissions are surely inevitable? Despite its unwieldiness, GBBF is what it is. A huge effort by willing volunteers, to put on the best beer show they can in pursuit of the aims of the Campaign for Real Ale. It changes and evolves and generally improves, year on year, but is still a great event for most attendees.
With the caveats above, we shouldn't forget that to most customers, the flamboyance, familiarity, friendliness and approachability of the event, the gobsmacking size and the sheer good time they have, are what really matters.
Spare and thought too for the volunteers, young and increasingly old, that give up their time and feet to put the show on. You'd miss it and them if it wasn't there. That day is getting closer perhaps.
The gruffness of German waiters is legendary. It is a matter of professional pride to many never to crack a smile, though maybe that is changing as more and more of them hail from East Europe. Until you come across one of the old school that is.
In Munich last month, our little party of four decided to eat at the Loewenbrau Keller as it has a lovely big screen outdoors on the terrace where we could watch the semi final of the World Cup involving Germany and Brazil. Alas it wasn't to be, as torrential rain forced us inside. Still, we got a nice table just a dozen steps down from a room with loads of tables and a telly. There was lots of room at the back to stand if need be and nobody minded us doing so. The Germans, all flags and painted faces, were seated in neat benched rows. Even football watching seemed organised and, well, neat.
We ordered drinks. Now we'd been before for a nightcap and the girls really liked Loewenbrau Pils. I do too. It is delicate, but with a firm body and a bitter, perfumey finish. It is actually rather an elegant drink. Two were ordered. Our waiter, an elderly type, said that they'd be better with Helles as the Pils was too bitter for women. Now Janet is a bit of a hop fiend and can take as much hops as the next person, even if that next person is a 100 IBU one. Eileen is not the kind of person you tell what she can or can't drink. Trust me on that one. Pils were insisted on and provided. I spent quite a lot of time running up and down the stairs in response the the roars of the lads and lasses in the tv room. We enjoyed our beer and the hearty food and it was a great night, despite the wet walk home and the Pils Denier.
I won't say whether or not I had a German flag painted on each arm, but will say that I didn't have one on my face. Unlike some other Brits present.
The Loewenbrau Keller is huge and only a fraction of the size it used to be. Maybe not the best beer in the world, but that pils is good.
Shit. I've accidentally deleted my blogroll while amending an incorrect entry. Blogger it seems has no way of recovering this.
So, looking on the bright side, I suppose it brings me the chance to bring it all up to date. If you wish to be on my blogroll could you send me your blog's details and url in the comments column so that you appear when I reconstruct it. Sorry about this. My fault I suppose, but I still don't understand how it happened. Of course, if you already appear on my "Latest Blog Info" on the left hand side, there is no need to do so.
In fact I might just add you to that. Or maybe I will reconstruct Blogroll. Either way it has pissed me right off.
You can't really bugger up an unsparkled pint. Well you can, but it will be hard to tell the difference, or, crucially, how good it could have been, because of course it isn't sparkled and therefore presented at its best. As God intended.
I considered this basic truth when in one of my local pubs last night. The key to pulling a good sparkled pint is in the initial pull, which must be vigorous enough to produce the creamy head. The swan neck must go to the bottom of the glass, with the glass held straight, not tilted. The second pull can usually be less strong and the nozzle should always be kept in the beer, not raised as the glass fills. When the fill is nearly complete,a good barperson will hesitate near the top, take your money and let the pint settle while doing so. Then the pint is topped up by inserting the swan neck back into the body of the beer. It should be topped up from below, allowing the fine collar of cream to remain intact. That's the key to using a swan neck and sparkler, you fill the glass from the bottom.
There's a skill to this, but frankly it is a piece of cake once you have pulled a few pints. This is especially true when the same range of beers are sold. You get used to how they behave, but the principle is the same. Why am I telling you this? Well of course education of the heaving masses might be one reason and an honourable one at that. But it isn't. A couple of my pints were spoiled last night by incorrect topping up from the top which tends to bubble the beer and dissipate the head.
To the sparkler hater, this is neither here nor there, but to those of us that follow the true path of enlightenment, it is a heartbreaker.
At least being the North, the beer was beautifully conditioned and cool. The photos show a Yorkshire pint settling in the Riverhead Brewery Tap and the other one poured by me at home. Neither was the beer drunk last night.
PS Bon Don Doon from Wilson Potter is a lovely beer.As always, I am available to teach the uninitiated for a very reasonable fee.
I wrote here about my liking for the beers of Tegernsee, a smallish brewery near Munich. While it is perfectly possible and indeed a very good idea to hop on the train to the lake and drink them at source, you no longer have to do so. To my delight on my recent trip to Munich, I discovered that Tegernsee has opened a pub on Tal, right in the centre of the best drinking area. Very easy to find it is too, being directly opposite the Weisses Brauhaus and next door but one to Paulaner.
Among other visits, we watched the Netherlands being (unfairly) beaten by Argentina. We were there until the last kick of the match at around 12.45. Beers were served throughout. This is a fairly pubby place, with a long bar you can sit at in the front to one side and a number of tables and booths inside. Off course there is the usual tempting German food. Prices are reasonable and the staff were smilingly obliging on every visit. Oh. And they sell Spezial, a sort of strongish export style beer which is kind of unique to these parts. Like Augustiner Edelstoff or Andechs Spezial, it isn't for everyone with a slight sweetness from the full malty body and the alcohol, leading to a bitter finish. A boys beer at 5.6%, so still (just) in the swoopable range. Well, I certainly swooped a few.
All we needed to complete our joy was the sadly lacking sunshine, when I believe they put tables outside. Go there if in Munich whatever the weather.
Tegernsee Im Tal: Im Tal 8, 80331Munich. Photo: Praying at the Tegernsee Altar.
I read with interest and without surprise that in the blog of Roger Protz veteran and still going beery guy, guest writer Jane Peyton, would like to see a more united front in the continuing pursuit of good beer. The article can be read by clicking the link above and is well worth a read. In it Jane makes the usual points in trying to encourage togetherness and overall there is little if anything to disagree with. I particularly like her point about the growing generations (not all young and female by my observation) of "sweet" cider drinkers, though to call some of these abominations cider, is stretching it more than somewhat given the low (if any) apple juice content, but the point is still particularly valid. Another very obvious but overlooked point (though Jane puts it in reverse) is that the vast majority of pubs are kept open not by cask ale or craft keg drinkers, but drinkers of utility lagers such as Carlsberg, Carling and Fosters.
Where I part company with her is where she says "I can understand why so many CAMRA members
resent kegged beers, after all those members have campaigned for years
to protect cask ale against boring and flavourless pasteurised beer and
thanks to their efforts the war has been won." I wonder about that. I am sure that many CAMRA members do resent keg beer, though, as there is so little competition from keg beer in the standard three to five percent range - the norm for cask beer drinkers - do they really need to? Ordinary lower alcohol beers don't really present as well when kegged. It's one of the reasons why so few do it. But "the war has been won." Has it really? It has been won in the sense that cask beer's market share is shrinking less in today's market than other products (except craft keg oddly), but is it out of danger? I'd say not and while craft keg is a factor, there are a number of others. Oddly, availability is one reason. Too often cask is available, but poor. Cask ale being very perishable, depends on a quick turnover. It requires folks that will happily rattle back two, three or four pints in a session and it would seem that there are less drinkers of that ilk around now. Volume drinking is, if not exactly going out of fashion, decreasing in popularity, especially with younger drinkers who don't quite see beer, or indeed themselves in that way, being often more eclectic in their likings (both beerwise and socially) and pretty concious of outcomes in terms of weight, health and image.
The demise of many local pubs has diminished cask ale drinking too. True many closed pubs were pretty poor, but even those, in my younger drinking days in Liverpool, were almost all cask, though of course not so latterly. Turnover leads to quality and while choice was less, bad pints were rare. And there is a quality issue with cask in many places. I rather think we are getting a little nearer than we realise to the bad old days of the 1980s when Ruddles, Theakstons, Boddingtons and others became national brands with a resulting drop in quality overall. Nowadays it is seen as enough by many (as it was then) to have a slow shifting, badly kept set of beers such as Doom Bar, Greene King IPA, Deuchars, London Pride and others of that ilk, that demonstrate the same "boring and flavourlessness" - to quote Jane - that the old keg beers of yore did, with the added disadvantage that it will likely be sold to you in less than perfect condition and temperature. In the "bad old days" when pubs were brewery owned that happened so much less. Most breweries policed their estates somewhat assiduously then.
There was a very good piece in his blog by Martyn Cornell on the subject of CAMRA's stance on pub closures and changes of use. He makes a lot of good points, including some that may not meet with universal agreement. But where he is certainly right is in his point that CAMRA should have a campaign to raise the standard of cask beer sold in the UK today. I agree with him, though in my case, as it would be as well as, not instead of campaigning against certain pub closures. My CAMRA Branch has an over-riding campaigning objective of so doing - and we have pretty good cask beer on the whole, so it could be argued that we don't need to do so. Other CAMRA branches - and they need to be honest with themselves - ought to do the same. As long as cask beer is sold in many outlets in its blandest form, as
long as pubs don't cellar and keep it correctly, as long as access to
the market for more interesting beers is made either impossible or impossibly expensive by the Pub
Companies, cask beer will always be in danger. When you can confidently expect a perfectly kept pint of interesting cask ale in the vast majority of pubs, then maybe, just maybe the war will be won. Not until then though and that's a long way off.
There is still plenty campaigning to be done. The war to keep cask safe isn't yet over. The enemy though isn't craft keg, which is very encouraging of new entrant beer drinkers (a big plus to me), it is the quality of cask beer at the point of dispense and probably always has been.
Neither Cask Marque nor the Good Beer Guide will guarantee good beer sadly, but we should feedback to both when it isn't up to snuff. If nobody complains..............
Tickers weep. I'm about to tell you about a beer I've had
and you'll never have. This is an exclusive and I just stumbled across
it. More or less.
Before going to Munich recently, I had hurriedly printed
off some stuff about craft beers in Munich. Mostly just where to buy it, or drink it,
but among the restaurants and pubs, there were two new breweries listed - both just with addresses and
little else. They were served by the same S Bahn station, so, with my companions, we
thought, "Why not?" and set off. The one we were really aiming for was Brauerei Im Eiswerk
which was supposedly a small offshoot run by Paulaner, one of the
Munich giants. We found it easily enough, in a quiet yard behind the
huge Paulaner-Hacker Pschorr Brewery, but it all looked a bit closed. As we
nosed around, a door opened and my friend John explained the purpose of
our mission to the charming young lady (one of the brewers as it turned
out) that opened it. She fetched another gentleman who turned out to be the
Head Brewer. He explained that the brewery produced a number of exclusive
beers which are sold to the public by pre-arranged collection once or twice a month.
It wasn't open to the public other than that. Ah well.
Brewers though are princes among men. The brewer thought for a moment and said "Would you like to come in and I'll tell you a bit about what we do here?" "Yes please"
we chorused. The brewery is in an old building which was where they
produced ice to allow round the year brewing many years ago. Herr Martin Zuber is the Brauemeister and his
aim is to extend the range of beers brewed by Paulaner by
re-interpreting or extending existing styles and by using different
techniques or hops. The main thrust seems to be
promote more passion about the beers they produce and to generally stimulate interest in beer and brewing. Herr Zuber who spoke excellent
English of course, then talked us through what they brew and showed us
the remarkable and expensive looking stainless steel kit on which he brews his range of beers.
As he warmed to his theme, he seemed to make his mind up. "We could maybe taste some of the products?" he suggested. We were very happy to go along with this and were treated to snifters of all the beers. Starting with Josef's Special,
a brown ale of 5.2%, named after Joseph Pschorr, a renowned member of
the famous Pschorr brewing family, which was creamy and smoky, then a Maerzen 1881
named after the year the Ice Factory in which we stood, was built, thus
allowing brewing to take place at Paulaner throughout the year.
Previously brewing couldn't happen in the summer months as beer would
spoil. This Maerzen, weighing in at 5.7%, is styled on the forerunner
of all Oktoberfest beers. It had sweet malt, caramel notes and a
smooth, elegant finish with some hops.
In a different mode altogether was Weizen Bock Mandarin
(6.9%) . This is a wheat beer made with top fermenting yeast and hopped
with Hersbrucker, Hallertauer and Mandarina Bavaria, which imparts
apricot/peach, mango and mandarin notes. The beer is also dry hopped
with Mandarina. It was slightly alcoholic with peachy fruit, tropical
mango notes and a touch of orangey mandarin. Quite delicious. Then the
alcohol was upped with Bourbon Bock (9.2%), described by
the brewer as a a Triple Ale Bock. The beer undergoes a triple
fermentation and is then stored for 3 months in oak bourbon barrels
giving it a hint of sherry, dried fruit and vanilla. It was very
warming and silky. Last up was a real treat. An Eisbock of
around 20% abv (I can't quite remember) which was liqueur smooth, thick
and lasting in the mouth. It kind of reminded me of 7 star Metaxa
Brandy. It would be a great nightcap.
We asked Herr
Zuber about himself and the Paulaner-Hacker Pschorr set up. He trained
as a brewer at Weihenstephan and used to be Head of Production and
Quality Assurance in the main brewery. In addition to his duties in the
Ice Factory, he has the responsibility nowadays of overseeing all of Paulaner's 30
odd breweries abroad and has to visit them to ensure quality. A tough job, but someone has to do it I suppose. He is a big hop fan and of course we
asked him, among many other things, about whether he'd like to brew an
IPA. "Well" he said, "I have in fact done so, here in this brewery, just to show others we can do it".
But he added you won't likely ever see a Paulaner IPA released on general sale from Paulaner- HackerPschorr, as the aim of the
Ice Factory is quite different. He again paused and thought for a
second. "Would you like to try my IPA?" Er. "Yes please"
we chorused. So we did. 100% Cascades and perhaps at the less hoppy
end of that particular spectrum, it was nonetheless a unique tasting
experience. It won't ever be released and when the keg is emptied or
goes stale, that will be that.
I have said before, brewers are generally lovely people who like to
talk about beer, but this was above and beyond that. Herr Zuber was
kindness itself, giving an hour and a half of his time to four complete
strangers. It never ceases to amaze me that beery folks are the best.
But it shouldn't really, should it?
and Hcker Pschorr don't compete against each other any more, but
rather, complement beer ranges which are separate brews and mostly
different. That was an interesting part of our visit to me at least. The top photo is Martin Zuber and the other one a not very good photo of the lovely little stainless steel Eiswerk Brauerei kit. We did go to the other brewery mentioned in my first paragraph. It took me back to my younger beer hunting days. More on that another time.
I'm not that big a fan of London Pride though I recall way back years ago when the Marble Arch sold it, it was a beer to actively seek out. When I say way back, I'm talking over 25 years ago. Was my enjoyment of it because of its comparative rareness, or was it simply better then? Or maybe we had simpler tastes back in the good old days when hops were a background addition to beer and not the main star? Now it seems one dimensional and sweet, but hey ho, that's how some people like it. What I have noticed though, in the few times I have had it recently, is how thin and generally unappealing it has become - to my palate at least. It doesn't refresh, it cloys. Admittedly most of those times have been in Wetherspoon in London when there has been nothing else I fancy on. When I've moaned on Twitter, I have been advised that I should only have it in Fuller's pubs. I've tried that and really don't find it any better there.
I wonder if the beer really has got worse, or if, in these days of vast choice, I've simply become far more picky? In fact, have too many of us, rather than being discerning, just become too hard to please?
Worryingly, I tend to think the same of Lees Bitter these days too, relying instead on their seasonals or Manchester Pale Ale
The Augustiner Keller is a classic of its kind and best of all, it is very handy for the centre of town when in Munich and an easy walk from the main railway station. In Munich the word "keller" generally denotes a beer garden and this is a classic of its type. Huge, sprawling, but nonetheless cosy enough, with its dozens - or is it hundreds - of benches set under chestnut trees, while an oompah band plays folksy German tunes in the background. On a lovely Monday evening in July it was seductively attractive.
It helps to know the form here. The place is split into two areas. One is self service in that you go in via a turnstile, choose your food from a number of counters and then separately your beer (Edelstoff from a wooden cask in my case), which is handed to you and hence, cafeteria style, to a till where you settle up. Otherwise you go to the other half of the keller, where a waiter will eventually wander over and take your order. In the posher bit, like many German restaurants, the tables will all have either people sitting at them or reserved signs on them. If you make it clear that you wish to eat, then, usually, a table will be found for you. If you just want a drink, well its more hit and miss and you may have to find a table to share, which is normal there. It's all very jolly and civilised. No children running wild, no shirts off tattooed drunks and just the buzz of conversion (and the band who are not amplified) to accompany good beer. Oh and another thing. In the self service area, unless you choose wheat beer, the smallest (indeed only) measure is a litre. Just get on with it. In the "waited on" area you can have half litres. Go figure.
We started off in the self service part and as we intended to dine, moved to the waiter service area where a reserved sign was removed for us. We looked and I tried to estimate how many people were there. It was hard to say, but I'd guess quite a few over 800. We discussed this and couldn't think of any location at all in the UK, where, on a Monday night, without it being a special event or location, that so many people were eating and drinking out in such a relaxed and casual manner.
The German beer garden is a thing of wonder, as is how it all works and the incredible wealth and social cohesion that sits behind it. It was a smashing night of a kind you can only really get in Germany and more specifically, in Bavaria.
Unfortunately the weather then turned and more or less ended our outdoor drinking. If you want good weather in Munich, find out when I'm going and don't go then. I've a bad record in that respect.
On my recent trip to Munich, I had half an hour to myself, so decided to ensure my time was usefully spent. Thus I nipped into the Augustiner Großgaststätte, a massive pub, restaurant and Beer Hall on Neuhauserstrasse and a favourite of mine. It was rather busy, so I ambled around looking for a likely spot. Finding a decent looking perch at the end of an under occupied table, I plonked myself down. Promptly a waitress appeared and told me auf Deutsch "You can't sit there". Having encountered this kind of situation before, I know better than to argue the toss in such circumstances and while having no precise idea why I couldn't sit there, I shuffled off in the general direction of her vague wave. I found a seat on a table not at all dissimilar, with just one guy sitting there and a pleasant male waiter brought me a half litre of Edlestoff and all was well.
Almost certainly the waitress was going off shift and didn't want any more customers before she settled up her receipts. Or maybe was just being awkward. That's a possibility too. Funny old place is Germany.
There are those that see little merit in Edelstoff. They are quite wrong. It is a super export beer of considerable poise and elegance and far better than the somewhat watery Helles .
I also had the distasteful experience of having to crunch a cockroach underfoot in there. I thought at first it was a child's toy. Big bugger but better off dead. I don't think I could have reasoned with it.
Not beer prices, but my left shoulder, which has seized up and is showing me what pain is all about. That's why this blog has been silent for too long. It is just too painful to hunch over a screen, hence nothing from me. Physio is kind of helping, but rest is needed.
I like the Soup Kitchen in Manchester. Not a pub, more of a genuine café-bar, it has five handpumps though invariably only three or four are on, some craft kegs, a few good bottles, a great atmosphere and service is always friendly and pleasant. You can perch on infeasibly high stools (beware of your legs going numb and the long drop back to terra firma) and watch the world go by both inside and out. OK I might up the average age by far too many years, but it's a firm favourite of mine and as long as you go during the day, there's a chance you won't be the oldest there.
On Saturday daytime, after very good pints in Pie and Ale, I visited with a mate. It was my round and three beers were on. We dismissed one on the grounds of not fancying it, one on the grounds of strength (7.4%), so we had the other, a Manchester brewery which is pretty new. Squawk Pale Ale (3.9%) was purchased after we sampled it. OK, it was a bit warm, but we went for it. I thought I'd misheard the barmaid when she chimed "£8.20 please" but no, that's what it was. I looked at the board. Other beers were around the £3.50 mark. I asked why so and was advised by the barmaid replied that it is very expensive to buy. Hmm. My answer to that would be "Unless it is extra special, don't buy it then."
Now I know that beer can vary in price, but I reckon £4.10 for this beer, brewed not more than a couple of miles away, is taking the proverbial. It even exceeds most beers in the Port St Beer House and they know how to charge. But who is doing it? Not the pub they say, who are (presumably) applying their standard mark up. They blame the brewery and the price of the strong beer we turned down would seem to indicate this might be the case. Arbor Breakfast Stout, all the way from Bristol and at 7.4%, a lot stronger, was exactly the same price. (No - they don't charge a standard price for beer.) Nor was the beer, while absolutely fine, anything special to justify the price and certainly not as good as either the
Outstanding Green Bullet or the First Chop DOC we'd enjoyed previously.
Of course breweries will charge what the market will stand, as will pubs and good luck to them if they can do it, but for me, that was just too much, whoever is to blame.
We didn't get a duff pint at all on Saturday and most were absolutely top notch. That at least was positive. Roosters The Italian Job confirms the steady rise back to excellence for this brewery.
For those that don't know, Booths are a small, independent, supermarket chain based in Preston with around 29 stores. The nearest to me is Media City in Salford. Think of them as the Waitrose of Lancashire and you won't go far wrong. They are noted among other things for their large and very varied beer selection which has most connoisseurs of bottle British beer, not only nodding their approval, but actively seeking them out. I like them and make a point of popping in when I can, though more usually for their foodstuffs rather than beer. Still, I like beer too and while I don't drink beer at home that much, I was nonetheless grateful to receive three samples from Booths of their latest in house range. Now I tend to leave beer descriptions to those that are adept at it, such as the Beer Nut and those who are not such as.... well, let's move on there, but last night, pre-thunderstorm seemed a good time to give them a try, sat out in the garden in the warmth and sunshine. I also had the lovely E on hand to give here usual forthright views, so what could possibly go wrong?
First of all the labelling. Plain, striking and simple. Full marks. Beers descriptions actually told you useful things, rather than "Brewed from the finest malt and hops". More plaudits. We started off with Booths Summer Ale, brewed for them by the highly respected Ilkley Brewery at 4% abv. The helpful label told us that it contained wheat as well as barley and was bottled by Holdens. More praise here. This geek didn't know Holdens had a wholesale bottling operation. Well interesting to me, though E seemed less impressed funnily enough. Right away E identified orange notes in the nose. I agreed and the taste of Seville oranges throughout was very pleasing indeed. It claims to be refreshing, though E thought it too bitter to be so. It certainly wasn't a gulper, but to me the Frank Cooper marmalade notes were very attractive. There was maybe just a hint of the promised peach, but neither of us could detect the label's passion fruit. I don't doubt the dreaded crystal malt was there too, as a slight barley sugar note could be detected, but hey, Ilkley clearly know their stuff and it worked. We'd both buy it. Me in a heartbeat. I loved it and could see myself drinking two or three in a row with pleasure.
Next up was Booths Lemongrass Ale (also 4%), made by Lancaster Brewery and bottled by Robinson's in Stockport. It promises "natural lemon and lemongrass". There's always a difficulty in this kind of beer which to my mind tend to veer between toilet duck and lemon furniture polish. E didn't like the nose or her first taste, but became a little more enthusiastic as she moved on through her glass. She detected lemon sherbet and thought it rather woody from the lemongrass. My own thoughts were rather sentimentally of the old Huntley and Palmer Lemon Puff in a badly done liquid form. It had lemon and biscuity malt, buy sadly it didn't really work for me at all, though oddly, I liked it more, the more I had of it. E concluded that it was like a "badly made shandy." Funnily both of us would like to try it again, so pick the bones out of that.
Last, but by no means least was Black IPA, brewed by Hawkshead Brewery and bottled, oddly, by Agricola in East Yorkshire. I love that. Another new one on me. Now this was almost guaranteed to divide opinion, E not being the biggest lover of dark beers. She loved the piney resinous nose though, but the distinct roastiness wasn't to her taste, but it was right up my street. Now here I have a dilemma. It tasted to me of roast barley, but it could be a modified carafa. I don't know, but even less do I really know what the difference between this and a bitter stout might be. I'd suggest if you changed the label, no bugger would know, or care, or shout foul. Whatever, it was the kind of classy beer that you'd expect from Hawkshead. I liked it and E didn't really. I'd love to see it on cask form at a boozer near me. No real surprises there.
To conclude. Three beers, two great and one a bit of a puzzle. Not so bad. Well done Booths.
Tasting notes from me eh? Whatever next? My thanks to Booths for the samples.
This is by way of an update, so please read the background here and the initial post here first. It all helps my stats and you, Dear Reader, to understand things.
Mum and I returned to the newly opened JDW, Captain James Lang in Dumbarton two days after our first trip. Mum had offered to pay, so why not? (She didn't as usual!) This time we were able to sit in one of the much coveted booths and see what was happening at the bar. I didn't give the cask beer a go at first - once bitten -twice shy and all that - but had a couple of pints of St Mungo Lager from West Brewery in Glasgow. Decent stuff, but perhaps they are being a bit fanciful to call it a cross between a Bavarian Helles and a North German Pilsner. At least in my view, though I must try that as an experiment if I ever have the chance to cross pollinate the two. Still, though as I said, it is good stuff.
I didn't see any cask being sold for a good while and then a guy asked for a pint of London Pride. It looked clear and he supped it with obvious enjoyment, returning not many minutes later for another. One or two more handpumps were now moving. Things cask wise were clearly looking up. I was deciding whether to plunge in, when I noticed a very tall guy at the bar, with shorts, a fleece top, a notebook and a mullet haircut. Bugger me if it wasn't Timbo himself. Tim Martin the boss man no less. I went over and said "Tim Martin?" "The same" quoth he amiably. We had a brief chat where I filled him in on the lack of cask beer in Dumbarton over the years and he asked me what I thought of the place. He was very pleasant and told me he'd been doing the rounds of some of his Scottish pubs and waved his bulging notebook at me "These are my observations" he boomed. As I ordered my pint of St Mungo he added "I'll get that". Splendid. What a guy.
As I pointed him out to my Mum, he went off on an inspection. I finished my pint and ordered a London Pride. It was rather good as Pride goes. There is hope as I suggested already and the staff were still trying hard. I was very impressed that Tim was, sans entourage, going round his own pubs under what seemed to be his own steam. Can't see many Chairmen doing that. The photo is nicked from the web.
The long awaited JDW, The Captain James Lang, in Dumbarton has opened and a a fine place it is too. The former Woolies has been transformed into a modern and comfortable pub with a long bar and eight handpumps (which is probably the most Dumbarton has ever seen) bringing cask ale back to the town. Seating is a mixture of high and low tables, booths (which are popular and commandeered by twos in each case, though they'd fit four comfortably) and a beer garden with spectacular view of Levengrove Park, the River Leven and Dumbarton Rock. It provides food up until eleven at night which brings the number of such pubs in Dumbarton doing so, up to.... err.... one. On a Monday night when I rolled up with my old Mum, it was doing a roaring trade.
Now Dumbarton and cask ale are complete strangers to each other. I ordered a pint of something from a Scottish Brewery (I can't remember which) and asked thr barman how the cask was doing. "Flying out" quoth he. My pint was disturbingly murky. Not London Murky perhaps, but too murky for my liking. It was also stale tasting and exchanged with a smile and apology for another pint of murk from a different handpump. Hmm. Third time lucky? Doom Bar it was. Clear looking, so a result? Not quite. It was sour and acetic. I ordered a gin and tonic and went back to my Mum, whose red wine was fine.
Meals next. A mixed result. Cremation of meat seems to be the order of the day. My burger was just about OK though hardly succulent. Mum's gammon steak had great potential. Potential as an offensive weapon, or as a stone age axe head. This was exchanged with apologies and later, unexpectedly, by a refund. I took the opportunity to have a chat with the charming and helpful Duty Manager who put it all down to teething problems. I don't doubt it, but it didn't make for a great experience. It will be all right here though. Staff were absolutely fantastic. Cheerful, helpful, doing their best and showing signs of being a good team. Mum enjoyed it too, though I think it was more the red wine, the presence of her son and reminiscences of Woolworths.
Don't worry Dumbarton. It will soon be sorted out, but please drink the cask before it goes off.
I didn't notice until my way out, as it is tucked away to one side, but a bonus is West Brewery St Mungo on sale. That'll be my tipple until the cask situation is sorted out and not a bad choice in any event.
I was alerted by @robsterowski through his blog that a new craft beer bar had opened in Glasgow and as I would be there, soon, I popped in when I arrived on Monday just gone. Handy for Glasgow Central Station, on Regent St, the Raven is operated by former brewer and now pub operator Maclay and is in the ex premises of a pub I believe to have been called the Bay Horse. Maybe.
Walk in, bar to the left up a couple of steps (might have been two lots actually now I think of it) with toilets straight ahead and a bigger space off to the right which seemed more devoted to eating - pulled pork and other meaty stuff mainly. Reviews for this aspect have been very positive, but I wasn't there to eat. Three handpulls and a handfull of keg fonts had a fairly ordinary set of beers on and there was a decent but modest selection of bottles. I didn't fancy the cask offerings, so opted for a half of BrewDog Fake Lager, which was enjoyably better than I remember it. One "innovation" which I liked was sample trays of three, either cask or keg, with keg sold at a premium. The place is well enough done, with wood and chrome, matt walls and the like, but it felt to me like a corporate idea of what a craft beer bar majoring in food ought to be. It was generic, derivative and pretty uninteresting.
I doubt if it will set the craft beer scene in Glasgow alight, or if it was intended that it would, but given its location, I imagine it'll do well enough for those that just want decent pub food and good beer in pleasant surroundings. I'll guess too, that Mclays will happily settle for that.
Sometimes pubs just don't help themselves do they.? Fast on the heels of my previous post about warm glasses, I was out in Manchester with E and two friends discussing the finer points about next week's Munich trip. (Seems we'll drink some beer in beer kellers assuming the right weather).
We started off in Pie and Ale where the beer though excellently kept, wasn't to our taste on that occasion. No issue with that - it's just the luck of the draw. We had no plan,so adopted the simple expedient of going to the nearest good pub, in this case a bar. Five handpumps in front of us and three turned round. The verycharming barmaid explained that nobody present knew how to change a cask, so if we came back in an hour, we'd have a full choice. This at six o'clock on a Friday evening. Really? We didn't fancy the strong beers on offer, so took her advice and returned later where a full array of beers sorted us out. But it isn't that good is it?
In the meantime we went to a much lauded craft ale bar. The cask beers were to our liking. I chose a pint of one and E a half of a different one. I saw some jiggery pokery going on under the bar however. I tiptoed higher and saw at once what was occurring. E's half had been poured to within a inch of the top from a full glass on the driptray and was being "brightened" by a a sparkler. The beer was warm and flat. I mentioned his sleight of hand to the barman. He said "I'd just poured the pint by mistake and didn't want to waste it." I said that it meant my wife had a poor drink because of it and was therefore paying for his mistake. He shrugged but didn't offer to replace it. I didn't want a fuss so said no more. You don't come to the pub for a confrontation as I've said before.E was unimpressed.
In the first case, not ensuring that staff know how to change beers is amateurish. In the second, it is just bad practice. You don't make the customers pay for staff mistakes and if unwise enough to get caught doing so, you should apologise and sort it out.
I must be getting soft in my old age by not naming names, but maybe I can be persuaded if readers deem it essential. There are clues in the text though.
I had a pint with one of my local landlords at the weekend while visiting his pub. I like to do this when I can, as it keeps me in touch with what's happening locally - essential for my day job as CAMRA Branch chairman. I asked if the World Cup was helping trade and he pulled a face. While he had 90 or so in his vault watching England on Thursday night, his thriving (but TV free) lounge and restaurant were more or less empty and his beer garden, on one of the most pleasant and warmest nights of the year had nary a soul in it.
The assembled horde in the vault supped plenty of beer, but overall, his trade on the day was well down. This contrasted with when England played late - after normal usual closing time - when people could have their normal night out, then go home and watch the game, while as a bonus, the vault (the only part of the pub with TV), was again filled with extra custom. We talked about whether he could have put TV in other areas of the pub for this four yearly event only, but although he considered it, the logistics, as well as the fact that it isn't what he is trying to achieve in his pub, ruled it out. He felt it better overall to just take the hit on what will, sadly, turn out to be one night only. He isn't expecting much from the last and meaningless England game either trade - or indeed football wise. Overall the World Cup has, on balance, been good for trade, but it has been a bit lumpy and certainly not a money spinner..
He wasn't pleased to see England go home early by any means, but it seems, life for some pub landlords at least, will be simpler now. Lees new seasonal, Golden Peddler, is pretty decent too, assuming you actually want a beer to drink as opposed to beer as an intellectual exercise.
I'm at the bar in one of our local pubs with E who is sitting at a table. The pub is early Friday night busy, which is just steady. There is no wait at the bar, desultory though the service is. The order is a simple one. A pint of MPA for me and a half of Original for E. My pint is poured and the barman reaches behind him to the shelf where the half pint glasses are stored. I watch with interest. Watching barstaff is one of my little hobbies. Did I tell you I was trained by an expert? Yes I think I did. Once or twice. You never forget good habits if they are instilled in you from an early age. I've probably mentioned that too I suppose.
The barman clutches a glass. He hesitates and I watch his mind wrestling with itself. I know what's afoot instantly. The glass is warm from the glasswasher. I know what he is thinking. He internalises the problem instantly and I see him putting the arguments to himself. "This glass is hot. Should I find another or just serve in it anyway ?" will be the gist. The decision is made more or less at once. Inside his head he silently says "Fuck it". The half is served in a warm glass, which I detect immediately by the simple expedient of putting my paw round it. "You made the wrong decision there" I say. The barman looks at me slightly uncomfortably. "We both know that glass was too warm for the beer don't we?" I add. He says nothing, but pours the beer away, checks for a cold glass and serves me the beer. I pay and say no more.
It cost JW Lees a half pint of beer though. Will the lesson be learned? I am not so sure.
Lees Golden Original Lager is an excellent beer. I had a few pints of it (elsewhere) last night. Tremendous stuff really. Try it if you have the chance.
I am not the biggest fan of the cask products of Shepherd Neame which I find harsh and samey. I can't say the same about many of their non standard bottles though, which are quite the opposite. They are very good. Shep's should maybe look at putting some of them such as Brilliant Ale (which actually is) or Double Stout on cask, rather than the nondescript ones they do now. Early Bird, Amber Ale, Late Red? Just say no. They taste the same as the usual ones. Harsh and difficult to tell from each other. Be that as it may, I still like the nearest Shepherd Neame pub to my London flat and do go there. You'd hardly be attracted by the prices though, expensive as it is, even by local standards which are scarcely cheap. But I like the place. That's the thing about pubs. It isn't just the beer. The Princess of Prussia is very pubby, with a good mixed clientèle and a nice feel to the place. Distinct drinking areas, lots of dark wood for cosiness and a splendid, atmospheric, heated outside area at the back adds to its considerable attractiveness. It is pretty well run too and while I dislike the beer, I have never had a badly kept pint.
So, despite having tried repeatedly to like the cask offerings, I just can't, so generally end up drinking Oranjeboom, which in its original Dutch
incarnation at least, is an all malt brew. No obvious corn notes in the
Shep's brewed stuff, so probably all malt here too (though I wouldn't
bet my reputation on it ) and as I usually just have a quick couple of
pints, while it's no great flavour experience, no harm done either.
All this rambling leads to the reason for this post. The Princess of Prussia used to be a Truman's pub and bore some traces of its ancestry outside. Recently the outside has been done up, with new tiling replacing old, broken stuff. Doesn't it look great?
So, while I don't care for the cask beer, I do like the pub and Shep's sympathetic care of it. Two out of three isn't bad. Or is it?
Can't help thinking I'd enjoy Truman's Burton Brewed Pale and Old Ales better. Stout and Mild would be nice too!Where's that time machine?
The Princess of Prussia is at 15 Prescot St, London E1 8AZ
It's a funny old place is Bethnall Green Road. You tend to think of it as the Krays and Cockney geezers, but you'd be far nearer the mark nowadays thinking of Karachi or some such, as the whole area seems to be one long tatty shop after another, so the whole feels like one long foreign market. It isn't pretty. Trust me on that one. Be that as it may, there are pubs to be found, though often more in the sense of signs for former boozers, or a few very run down looking places which could just as easily be in a poor area of Manchester, Leeds, Bradford or Liverpool rather than wealthy London. Emerging at the end of Bethnall Green Road, where we'd walked from our flat on a sunny Sunday afternoon, we were almost on our target. Immediate left under the railway bridge and into Paradise Row. A neat little row of terraces leads you to Mother Kelly's, in a railway arch, but not for once a brewery, but a bar.
It is a decent size with some benches out front, a stall selling fancified pig flesh of some sort, run by an incredibly hairy guy and two skinny women and inside a neat spacious place with more benches, fridges of exotic beers down the left wall and a long bar with keg taps at the back. A non bearded barman greets us with a smile and a hello. He offers tasters and good advice, all in a non condescending way. He is very amiable and friendly. We choose two two thirds. Me of wheat beer, E of lager, which shows clearly the limitations of this glass. On a hot day, two gulps and there is almost nothing left of my beer, but hey, maybe that's just me. We take seats inside, as outside the few patrons practice the usual British policy of spreading themselves out to keep a space for six the domain of two. But we don't mind - it's nice inside and we can look out through the wide open doors at the trees (look to the right for this, otherwise it is the back of a nondescript building). We note that mercifully the music, playing at a sensible volume, is not techno beat, but something equally modern, without that drilling bass sound that makes you want to kill yourself, or, better, the bastard that put it on. Most of the men aren't bearded, which endears the place to me even more. We like it.
Back to Bethnall Green Road and some history. We pass the sign for the Ship. A Watney's House, though there is no trace of the pub. I look with interest at the few open pubs. The Marquis of Cornwallis, the Star of Bethnall Green which I'd have liked to go in, rough though it looked, but E wouldn't. The Old George? No. Not this time. A new target for us was The King's Arms. It is disconcerting to turn a few yards off the main road with its distinct Asian feel into posh London with neat streets and that gentrified feel which is almost unique to London. The pub is majestic, with its long floor to ceiling windows and a good feel inside. The place though is more or less empty and the beer, ironically from Salford, is toasty warm. The cellarman is called. He apologises and pours a new one which is much better. He explains the beer lines aren't cooled to the point of dispense. He and I both shake our heads at this. Three casks, a few well chosen kegs, but it needed customers, though we did linger a while and one or two did wander in. We like it and again we'll be back. But I'll make sure I'm not the first customer for a while.
We finish up in the Carpenter's Arms - or rather outside it. Fairly good (but warmish) Adnams and with a nod to the East, a curry in Tayaabs which was, frankly disappointingly bland. It seems it isn't what it used be. A bit like Bethnall Green Road? Can I thank Matt Curtis for recommending both pubs, even if he thought I'd find cask free Mother Kelly's not to my taste. Mind you I wouldn't fancy it when it is heaving.
I was brewing beer in London recently with Pilsner Urquell. Martyn Cornell has already set out the background and detail of why we were all gathered in the White Horse at Parson's Green here, so I urge you to read his blog first (good advice at any time - for example, his piece on supplying beer to the troops after D Day is superb). He gives all the detail, so, keen on avoiding hard work as I am, I won't do it all again here. Thanks Martyn. I owe you a pint.
A quick recap though of the mission. In the upstairs room at the White Horse, six teams - three a day over two days all to brew a lager beer based on the Pilsner Urquell recipe. The aim is to tweak, or indeed utterly change the PU recipe and produce a beer to be judged later. The winning beer to be brewed commercially by Windsor and Eton Brewery. So big stakes and a very serious brew-off punctuated by a lot of fun. Throughout the day we had superb advice from Václav Berka PU Senior Brewmaster, Paddy Johnson of Windsor and Eton Brewery and from Greg
Tucker, a taste psychologist, who was with us from the beginning and
whose insight into tasting was for me one of the highlights of a day of highlights. Think you know about taste? Think again. He was brilliant both in content and delivery.
Now I'm no home brewer, but I like to think I know enough about the processes not to make a fool of myself, so our little team - thrust together absolutely randomly - first all determined that none of us were home brewers - or indeed any other kinds of brewers. So we had an even non brewing playing field and hopefully not too many preconceptions. We had though all listened carefully to the pep talk by Václav and another by Paddy and fortunately all of us had taken the same main message out of it "Less is more." We decided at that point that our recipe would be a tweak, not a complete re-write.
The water - brought from Pilsen was already being boiled - so we (Canadian Presenter and Filmmaker Nate Nolan, Norwegian writer
Line Elise Svanevik from In a Pub Magazine (who incidentally sounded as Norwegian as I do), Neil Walker, Blogger and National Press Officer at CAMRA and me) started thinking about malt. PU is brewed with 100% pilsner malt. We decided that we wanted something with more mouthfeel, so we substituted some melanoidin malt and just a touch of Munich to again add richness and also to add a touch of colour which in PU is provided by triple decoction. Not something we could do. That decided, it was into the boil. For those that like detail; 3.9kg Pilsner Malt, 325g Munich Malt and 75g Melanoidin Malt went in and a lot of hot and sticky stirring ensued.
The hops discussion was much livelier and longer lasting. PU is hopped solely with Saaz, but after much sensual rubbing, sniffing, oohing and aahing, we decided on an all Czech hop bill. Currying favour? Us? Certainly. So we had 40g Saaz in the initial boil, 20g of Agnus five minutes from the end and 40g of Kazbek (which we all really loved) to provide aroma at flame out. Sounds good? We thought so. We ended up more or less where we wanted to be with an OG of 1048.6. 21 litres in all. The wort tasted good. Much as we'd hoped, with good bitterness under all the sweetness and distinct lemon and spice. The worts were then chilled and the yeast pitched before being taken away to London Beer Labs for fermentation and lagering.
Of course all breweries have to have a name and ours was Four Corners (as in the four different countries of the world our team hailed from) and the beer was named Velvet Pilsner after the Velvet Revolution that separated the Czech Republic from Slovakia. Everything had been thought of and we even had on hand a design artist who pulled together a remarkably good label from our very vague and unformed thoughts. Regrettably I didn't take a photo of that!
The resulting beers will be bottled for judging in July. I can't wait.
I'll be there biting my nails, but we are all quietly confident.
We were also treated to copious amounts of Tankovna unpasteurised Pilsner Urquell, poured mainly by Václav himself. It is a cracking, complex beer. My thanks to Pilsner Urquell UK and to Mark Dredge for the invitation to a fascinating day.
Regular readers will know that on average I find the temperature of cask beer sold in London pubs to be on the warm side. Not slightly warm, but a lot too warm. And no, I don't accept that there are regional preferences in this kind of thing, though there may be incorrect local flash backs to a byegone era in cellar practice. Are things changing though? I think they might just be. In some places at least.
There is, apart from preference for refreshment, a technical reason for this dislike of warm beer. It is pure physics. The amount of CO2 remaining in the beer after venting is inversely affected by temperature. Colder beer equals more condition and warm beer means flat beer. Put simply CO2 is less soluble the more the temperature increases. From me, the customer, there is nothing more vexing than coughing up the best part of four quid for a pint in London (or anywhere to be fair) and then finding it warm enough to poach an egg in. It has made me on so many occasions just drink lager - and even that can be warm too sometimes, but not cask warm. Saddo that I am, now and then in a fit of zeal, I take out my Cask Marque temperature probe and check how warm my pint is. I did that for the first day of my visit last week. Naturally, prick I may be, but I don't want to be seen as such, so I do this surrepticiously. I have standards you know. Low though they may be, but my intentions are to drive home the message. No warm cask beer please!
Now I usually name names, but this, with one exception, I won't, but I will give you some useful pointers as to where things might be better. The exception is the Euston Tap where my first London pint weighed in at a near perfect 11.2°C. Yippee. Other good news was to be found in two Nicolsons pubs, again more or less perfect and in JD Wetherspoon. (Almost never a problem there). So here's an immediate piece of advice. You are likely (with exceptions) to get cooler and better kept beer in a chain or brewery pub that is managed, as Head Office will be keeping a close eye on beer orders, sales, wastage and customer complaints.*
In each pub I looked for a Cask Marque sign and if there was a problem I determined to bubble them to Cask Marque. After all, that is the name of their game. I didn't need to, so great. Again with one exception, as of course into each life a little rain must fall. One pub that shall remain nameless, sold me my cask beer at an unacceptable 17.2°C and my lass's Budvar at 10.1°C. Yes they had a Cask Marque plaque on the wall and it is by no means the first time, so an email is being sent. Now this may seem petty, but I remind you of the price. When you are charging someone £4 a pint or thereabouts, it needs to be served correctly and after all Cask Marque is meant to be a sign of beer quality. That's why they exist.
Let's leave warm beer to John Major's misty eyed reminiscing. Maybe the often poor state of cask in some places in London is one reason why craft keg is getting a decent hold. And why CAMRA's job is not yet done.
* In managed houses you are also likely to find beer python cooled to the point of dispense, a standard cellar practice folllowed and the cellar cooling temperature set correctly and remaining switched on.
The early 1970s was a time when not only was British Beer at a nadir, but it was starting to be recognised as such and importantly, a few people were starting to do something about it. The rather chummy, but none too serious Society for Preservation of Beers from the Wood (SPBW) was giving way to a much more purposeful and aggressive organisation, the Campaign for Real Ale, which sent shock waves through the whole brewing industry and facilitated to a very large extent, the changes that moved British Brewing from one of homogenisation, to one of huge diversity.
This particularly British tale is engagingly tale is told in a pretty sure footed way by well known beer bloggers, Boak and Bailey, in their first book, The Strange Rebirth of British Beer. Although a history, this, in part at least, is a character driven book, because the fightback against the standardisation and bastardisation of British beer is one of individuals, operating singly, but all with a burning view that the bland, fizzy, weak, lookalike beers foisted on the public by the then big brewers, was something they were going to do something about, albeit in individual and unconnected ways. People like David Bruce with his chain of brewpubs, drinkers such as Christopher Hutt, whose book The Death of the English Pub was a clarion call to the British drinker that something was wrong and the four founders of the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA), are well known and rightly given their place, but the authors have delved into less known cases of early pioneers of beery diversity in the delightfully named chapter Lilacs Out of the Dead Land. Outposts of rebellion in places such as Selby in Yorkshire and Priddy in Wales are discussed, as is the case of Godsons, a new brewery and wholesaler who took London by storm long before the present crop of London brewers were born, though sadly, we are not told why "everything that could go wrong did."
Inevitably there had to be something that pulled all this together and the golden thread running through the early part of the narrative of change in the brewing landscape is the emergence and dominance of the Campaign for Real Ale. Interviews with many CAMRA worthies bring this to life and for an old hand like me, the book reminds me that CAMRA was a much more swashbuckling organisation than it is now. And quite possibly much more left wing. It may not be intentional, but the book clearly illustrates that CAMRA took the feeling of "something wrong", into a movement that not only annoyed the big brewers, but by campaigning against them and what they stood for, arguably, swept them into the dustbin of history. For those unfamiliar with this history, the role that CAMRA
played might well be quite a revelation.
The emergence of a new wave of brewers and more importantly, beers and beer styles as well as the new wave of craft beer bars, is the sort of second half of the book, but here you feel the authors are somewhat less sure of themselves. What about the current changes that in some ways mirror, or at least replicate the situation CAMRA found in the 1970s? Is there a broad feeling that there is a need for step change around? You get an idea there might be, but the book doesn't really go there. They do not get into the soul of what the new wave of craft brewers is about - no major interviews - though they do rightly identify BrewDog and Thornbridge as key players. They do make a more convincing job of bars, with an interesting delve into North Bar Leeds, which they postulate is a template for all yet to come and a fascinating reminder of Mash and Air in Manchester as well as others. But overall there is a strong impression that not only are the writers more meticulous about the past, but the writing of this complicated history is where their main interest lies. In fairness the emergence of the new "craft movement" is a muddled one and not yet fully formed. Perhaps Boak and Bailey could let that one ferment for twenty years or so and then turn their skills to it?
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. It is clearly written, straightforward in style, captures the essence of the issues that faced British drinkers and what was then done about it. The history is meticulously researched. It is weaker in its second half, though this is redeemed by a skilful weaving (doubtless intentional and maybe in recognition of the relative weakness) of the past and present and is studded throughout with attractive stories and slightly bonkers people. One criticism is perhaps more about who wasn't interviewed as
who was. Given the nature of the book, it might have been useful to seek
the views of someone who was there
throughout and is still there now, such as Tony Allen of Phoenix
Brewery. There are no doubt others. Of course in any book there are only so many characters that
can be fitted in and they have in such luminaries as Brendan Dobbin and Sean Franklin, chosen some of the best. Later inclusions though seem somewhat whimsical at times, such as the mention of the Campaign for Really Good Beer. Perhaps the authors elliptically allude thereby to the somewhat feckless SPBW (for whom they seem to have an abiding fondness) and their "drinking club" status?
To this writer, where the book excels is in the pulling together of a non linear story of change into a narrative of characters, key people and events. Those that are familiar with the story and those that are not and those that have even the most passing interest in British beer and brewing will equally find fascinating and educational. I would particularly recommend it to those that feel they are breaking new ground in brewing, drinking or being "different" or in a fancy bar with fancier prices. While the characters, the pubs, bars and beers have changed, the principles haven't. This book tells you in an easy to read way, that to a large extent, it has all been done before.
If you wonder how we in the UK got where we are today beerwise, I recommend that you buy it. Brew Britannia. The Strange Rebirth of British Beer is, as they say, available from all good bookshops and on line.
BrewDog is asking their customers to give them it straight about their pubs. Oops. Bars. Force of habit that. I is old.
That's a very good idea and doing it publicly is also good. It is to be commended. I don't know how long the consultation will last, but some of the comments have been very enlightening to this outside observer. They (BD) are almost universally praised under "What do we rock at?" for their customer service and product knowledge. Well ten out of ten for that I say. My readers will know that I have yakked on about the lack of customer service in British pubs for years and it is heartening to see that one company takes it so seriously, that in a feedback survey, that's what shines through as being praiseworthy. If only more followed that example.
When it comes to the question "What could we be better at?" perhaps unsurprisingly there's a lot of complaints about high prices, lack of a decent food offering (or it running out) and importantly lack of a good BD brewed lager and critically for those that like a pint or two, lack of sessionable beers. Food can be excused to some extent, because few of their bars are that large and kitchen space must be a problem. I notice in any event that they have a new guy looking at this, so doubtless improvements are on the way here, so I think we can set this aside as it were. A good lager though I'd have thought, is essential in any craft bar and I believe I recall James Watt agreeing it was a bit of a weakness when I visited the brewery a couple of months ago. Fake Lager may have an ironic name, but it seemingly isn't cutting the mustard with some customers at least.
The fact that there are complaints about so few sessionable beers being available can be combined with another recurring comment. Quite a few respondents complained about the lack of cask beer, citing how good it was - a point I have made myself many times. Trashy Blonde is remembered fondly by a few respondents. I remember others fondly too and have written about them in the past. No sessionable beers and no cask is seen as a problem by many of BD's own customers - or at least those that can be bothered to comment. I think we all know what the solution should be, but I somehow doubt if we'll see cask returning. It doesn't suit the image.
Let's hope customer demand proves me wrong.
Funnily enough soft drink range and the non beer ranges in general were panned. I haven't even noticed that. My bad probably.
Readers of this blog may recall my admiration of one Brendan Dobbin, who some say, and I'm among them, pioneered artisanal "beer with a difference" in this country. I first wrote about Brendan in this blog post dated 6th December 2010. It was titled "The Start of the Revolution?". I urge you to read that post in conjunction with this one. It deserved far more comments than it actually achieved and will set the scene for what I'm about to tell you.
Courtesy of my good friend John Clarke - also an early advocate and admirer of Mr D - I hear that the beer that made him a legend throughout the beery types of Manchester and far beyond, is set to return. The beer is Yakima Grande Pale Ale and believe me, it is the stuff of legend. It will be brewed by Conwy Brewery in North Wales, under licence, to the exact Dobbin recipe. The man himself has been responsible for supply and set up of Conwy's new brewery in Llysfaen, where a new
25BBl brewery designed by Brendan, has been installed. The beer, under the famous Dobbin brand, West Coast Brewing will, excitingly, use the original Dobbin yeast. The letter, to John and his colleagues, is reproduced with his permission. Hi John, Mark, and Phil, Please allow me to introduce myself my name is
David Worsley, I am the sales representative for Conwy Brewery Ltd in North
Wales and have been in the brewing industry for the last 46 years, with Hydes
Anvil Brewery in Manchester and since 2012, with Conwy Brewery, I thought it
might be nice to let you know that an old cask beer favourite will be returning
to the North West of England in early June.As you may already know our wonderful cask ales are already a great
favourite in and around the North West especially in Manchester, Stockport,
Chorley, and Bolton, we have teamed up with Brendan Dobbin to produce this
wonderful cask ale using his original recipe the Malt, Hops, and yeast strain,
it will be sold under the West Coast Brewing Banner.Brendan was along with yourselves of course key to reviving cask beers
in the 70s, 80s and early 90s with both his West Coast Brewing brand of cask
beers and his Firkin Brewpub Chain and we were only too pleased when he assisted
us in installing our new brewery equipment and allowing us to brew his beers
under license through the West Coast Brand.We are positive this wonderful beer will be well received as it was
over 20 years ago and I would ask you all to spread the word that Brendan s
beers are back where they belong giving true cask beer drinkers a taste of the
past brought to them from North Wales No 1 Brewery.
Details of this wonderful beer are as follows; Dobbins Yakima Grande
Hoppy Pale Ale, ABV 5.0%, I am sure the good people of the North West will once
again be very pleased with this unique cask beer.
I do hope you find the above of interest, but if you would like any
more details or information on any of our beers or services, brewery tours also
catered for, please do not hesitate to contact me.
For those that wish to try the beer, and there will
be many I'm sure, John tells me that the beer, which is only being
brewed tomorrow, will be available at Stockport Beer and Cider Festival, which runs from the 29th to 31st May at Edgeley Park Stockport. John said "We have ordered two firkins for
Stockport Beer & Cider Festival. It may not arrive until the Wednesday so
is unlikely to be on sale before Friday night or Saturday (so it has time to
settle properly - there will be a programme note to that effect).
So there you have it. A chance to actually taste one of the beers that started the beer revolution in this country. History recreated. All roads lead to Stockport.
You really can't overstate Brendan's importance in British Brewing in the early 1980s. I'm sure too, that Conwy Brewery, who know their stuff, will make a good fist of it. I wrote about them here. This development may also lead to more of Brendan's beers re-appearing too. Yippee.
After an early morning of short tempered exchanges on Twitter I needed some shopping. I took these photos while waiting at traffic lights, to and from the supermarket. The clock is wrong though, by two hours!
Hopefully nothing to argue about there.
Click the photos to enlarge.
Cask conditioning? If it is all done in the brewery, I have one simple question. How come there is so much badly kept cask beer about?
Before I go further, I will declare an interest. I like Camden Town Brewery. I would like them even more if they'd continued to brew excellent cask beers such as Inner City Green, but there you are. You can't have everything. But I still like them a lot. I drink their beers in London when I see them.
Yesterday they announced a new beer on Twitter and proudly showed a photo of it. Given a couple of less than complimentary comments from me and @Robsterowski, they said that it was the photo looked bad, not the beer and replaced it with a better photo. They seemed further surprised by another couple of tweets saying, again, that the beer still didn't look good. Or in fact, that it looked awful. They then went off for a beer, no doubt shaking their heads with disbelief at such heretics.
Now I'm not the biggest fan of cloudy, soupy, beer as many of my readers will no doubt know*. A bit of haze is fine and no, I don't include hefe weizen in this, the clue being in the name. Now some will just say "Fuck off Tandleman, you have form here". And I do. It's a fair cop Guv. But I still reckon this colloidal beer doesn't look in the least appealing, no matter how it subsequently tasted.**
If you want a bit of haziness, fine, but frankly, I don't even understand how they get finished (fully fermented and conditioned) beer this cloudy. Or more importantly, why you'd want to. The beer is a Swedish Pale Ale called God Help Save the Elk. * Curmudgeon also talks about soupy beer here. ** I fully accept that your mileage may of course vary.
A bit of a CV. Tandleman is a veteran beer lover, CAMRA Chairman and (local) activist, beer author, beer reviewer and pursuer of all things good in beer. He lives in the North West of England and London. Despite his CAMRA membership, he does not limit himself to cask conditioned beer, though he believes that cask conditioning, when done correctly and appropriately, brings a quality to beer that is hard to equal by any other kind of presentation. He is a strong supporter of Northern methods of beer dispense and avidly detests poorly presented beer and dislikes pasteurisation. He regularly visits Germany, has conducted corporate British and German beer tastings for CAMRA at the Great British Beer Festival where he has worked for years on Biere Sans Frontieres and was Deputy Organiser at CAMRA's very successful National Winter Ales Festival in 2009, 2010, 2011 and 2012. He admires good brewers wherever they are and has travelled extensively in pursuit of good beer to drink.
This blog mentions specifics; pubs and beer, good and bad. The opinions will be forthright, but you can always disagree, just don't be offended. Comments from those mentioned are particularly welcome and a right of reply is hereby offered.
Hitting the booze but learning disgusting. Night on Guinness gave me head
like a quarry, single malts and Champagne left me mellow. Is this a last
3 years ago
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