Why Is This a Thing?

 On Wednesday, my car was going in for its service and MoT, and it had to be there early. So, duly dropped off at the garage just after a quarter to eight, I could either walk home - twerly for my bus pass - or better still get some brekkie.  It was also perishing, and I'd already spent a bitterly cold quarter of a cold hour defrosting the car, so cups of tea were my priority and as our local JDW was just opening as I walked past, unlimite
d refills beckoned.

Despite me being there on the dot of eight, a couple of other hopefuls were in, but I was first to the bar to place my tea order. The other two were separately selecting their usual prime positions by the windows. My main concern was to get my tea and a seat as far away as possible from the icy blast emanating from the door, so no issues there. The pub started to fill up with faces I recognised from previous visits. Seats were carefully selected and greetings exchanged. I got the odd "Good Morning" too as I warmed up with cups of Tetley. The next half hour passed serenely enough, punctuated only by the odd gale of laughter from the staff breakfasting near the bar.

However, the pace quickened up as the witching hour of nine o'clock approached. I'd moved on to breakfast by then. The usual JDW fare, but it was fine and certainly warmed me up. A few workmen, in for some snap, were added to the regulars who were by now folding newspapers and checking watches. The atmosphere was getting a little more tense as they approached the bar on the dot of nine.  Now in the past my observations were that the John Smiths would flow, but alas, not now.  That is no longer available, and it seems that the replacement,  Worthington Creamflow, does not hit that sacred spot. No, Stella seemed now to be the drink of choice, though one outlier was on Stowford Press Cider.

Now here's the odd bit. Several - well three of the punters including Mr Stowford - returned to their spot alone at their chosen table with two pints each. These were carefully placed in front of them. Why?  Why would you buy two pints for yourself at once in a rather quiet pub, first thing in the morning? I've noticed this before, but not only in the Middleton JDW, but all over the country. I remember, in Nottingham I think it was, a geezer returning from the bar at 9 a.m.with two bottles of Newcastle Brown - as if one wasn't already too many - and elsewhere too, this seems to happen.

So Dear Reader, next time you find yourself in a JDW just after alcohol sales begin, look for this strange phenomenon.   And if you know why they do this, do let me know in the comments.

I thoroughly recommend JDW for early morning people watching.   You can guarantee something of interest.

Another thing. Seems JDW now sell 660ml bottes of Camden Hells.  In this case for a mere £3.69. Anyone seen it elsewhere?

The Blue Pig, Odd and PSBH

There is a new bar in Manchester. The Blue Pig is on High Street and owned by Odd it seems. Nice inside, with bare boards, lots of distressed metal and a little attractive side bar-cum-stall - though it isn't apparent if it is just a service point - selling Spanish meaty things, which looked rather tasty. It doesn't have any fancy craft fonts, but was selling a couple of weakish cask beers at a hefty £3.30 a pint on Saturday. I had Lancaster Straw which at 3.5% and well, straw coloured, was presumably their take on the Windermere Pale genre. Hawkshead can rest easy. This was wishy-washy, thin and disappointing with scarcely a hop to lift it. You do wonder what thought processes went behind that one. Hornbeam Chestnut was the choice of my mate Mike. It did what it said on the pumpclip and delivered a chestnut coloured beer of zero character.  This place is in a great location and has a lot of potential, but the welcome was entirely absent, as was eye contact.  That always makes for a less than comfortable experience, so a work in progress.

We called next at Odd, oddly enough. We had by contrast, a very warm and cheery welcome there and although the Phoenix Hopsack was in great nick, it was a fair bit too warm. It was likely the first pints poured I suppose and again we paid £3.30 a pop.  A step up in both quality, welcome and class next.  If you read this blog you will know that I am a great fan of the Port St Beer House.  They just do the right things.  While many criticise the high prices, these tend to be the fancy keg beers, which like other such places, are charged way beyond what can be justified by ingredients, taxation, or whatever, but you don't have to buy these.  The cask beers and indeed some of the weaker keg beers are pretty well priced for the absolute quality, the cheerful service with advice, the offer of tasters and the environment which just makes it a very nice place in wich to drink.  Mike,a newcomer to PSBH, was very impressed.  We drank Magic Rock Curious, which did have a touch of  diacetyl, but in bearable quantities. So much so that we continued with that beer in the main, though I did have a few other halves, trapped there by heavy showers which came just as we finished our pints.

A word too about Brodie's All Brett IPA.  I was given, unasked, a taster of this and was impressed.  Before he finished his shift, Will the manager, gave me another larger taste.  What a fantastic beer.  OK, you couldn't drink a lot of it, but it was classy and elegant, with a distinct Brett character and brilliant hopping.  I almost wish I had a notebook with me to tell you all about it, but I didn't have. Instead, just try it if you can.  A truly lovely beer.

I reckon the thing about the Port St Beer House (and Craft in London too) which sets them apart from, say, BrewDog, is the mix of cask and keg craft.  It encourages a good cross section of drinkers, beer styles and beer cultures.  I firmly believe that encouraging a cross section of drinkers is just a better way to do things.  It is also more pubby that way.

"Aha" I hear you say. What about cask only pubs?  Well, what about them?

There's a nice little piece about the owner of Odd here. Quite interesting

Reasons to be Cheerful

My morning walk in Alkrington Woods was punctuated, not this time by the usual avoidance of dog shit, but the poignant sight along my route, of carefully placed posters for the missing Stone Roses fan, Chris Brahaney, who vanished at Heaton Park, a mile from the furthest point of my walk. Sadly there was no happy outcome.

I reflected and resolved as I trudged along in a slight drizzle, that lousy summer or not, I'd better be a bit more cheerful. There's a lot of pain in the arse things going on around me at the moment and there might be no good weather to look forward to here, but I'm alive and kicking and there is good beer to be supped both here and on my future agenda too. Maybe even in sunnier climes in the shape of the Berlin Beer Festival, where I'll be in just over three weeks. The weather that far east in August ought to be sunny. Right? Well I have had a good record of sun there in the past, so here's hoping. Then, after that, a bit of work at the GBBF. I'd previously decided to have a year off, but instead I'll just do a fair few hours less, back in our old haunt of Olympia, though travel may be a nuisance. In between I have a trip to see my dear old Mum and a chance of a couple of fly pints in Glasgow. Then after all that two weeks in sunny Andalusia.

Reasons to be cheerful? I think so. And tomorrow these soggy posters referred to above should be a reminder of that.

Although I think I have what I need, any Berlin tips from those there recently, are welcome.  Beermug is scheisse though.

Fancy a Pint Somewhere Else First?

I was talking (separately) to two of the lads in the pub on Sunday. One remarked that he'd had an enjoyable night at a beer festival in Manchester and about the pub that he'd gone to for a drink beforehand. Later, talking to an old mate at the bar, he was telling me of a bikers meet in Manchester - minus bikes and at a pub - and describing the beers they'd had in the pub where they'd gone for a drink prior to joining the scheduled function.  Now I'm no stranger to this "meeting for a drink before meeting for a drink" thing, but it is an odd thing to do when you think about it. Is it a Northern custom? Is it a peculiarly British thing?

Either way, I'm going to the Regal Moon with the boys tonight, but I'll probably meet Michael in the Baum for a drink first.

In my case, my excuse is there might just be a bad selection of beers where I am going and a better one at the one beforehand. It rarely is so.