Blinded by the Light

Is pale beer losing its appeal?  We all probably know people that prefer dark beers, or even brown beers, but is this affecting beer sales?  There is some evidence from our American friends that this may be so.  Sales of Budweiser in the U.S. declined 29 percent between 2007 and 2012. Budweiser Select was down 61 percent over the same period, Michelob Light a staggering 70 percent. Miller Genuine Draft dropped 56 percent and Milwaukee’s Best Light 40 percent over the same period.  Heineken didn't get away unscathed either with a 37% fall over the same period for its light version.

Does this really mean anything for us?  Unlike many, I am not that convinced that what happens in the US always has a direct influence on what happens here, though in terms of trends there is undoubtedly some linkage.  It ties in well with  this post from Ed Wray about a "catastrophic" fall in off sales of standard lager.  He also said "ale accounted for 30% of total beer sales in the last quarter of 2013 against the usual share of 15%. Marstons sold 40% less standard lager and cream flow T-bar ales like John Smiths and Worthington lost 15%."   Now these are really rather startling figures and such changes cannot be accounted for solely in terms of craft beer taking market share. The  drop in John Smith's Smooth sales is particularly interesting, as it is the "go to" cheap smooth beer of the North.

So, it seems that the world, including the UK is falling out of love with no frills lawnmower style beer, but it is slightly more difficult to say exactly what is happening, other than, given global sales of beer are down, that folks are shifting away from beer and cheap light beer in particular and that there is some evidence that there is a move to the dark side.*   Does this mean that premiumisation still has some legs left in it and that as people are drinking less, they are drinking "better"? And darker? 

Kind of looks like it. 

Or maybe it was a recession thing?  That's the other side of the coin, in that those with less disposable income, that used to buy lots of cheap light beer are buying much less? 
 
*Premium and craft beers are rarely lager like pale.


Photo  is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported 

Friend or Foe?

How many eggs do JD Wetherspoon sell a year? 39 million.  "That's a lot of eggs" I think.  The statistics roll on.  525,000 (award winning) breakfasts a week.  If you laid the number of sausages sold every week end to end they'd reach from Chester to Frankfurt and back.  Why Chester and Frankfurt? I don't know.  Or was it chips? Either way, this is a big operation. Enough beer is sold in one week to fill an Olympic sized swimming pool.  Sounds a lot. It is a lot. 2.5 megalitres or 45,000 60,000 UK nines of beer. Over 4 million pints of beer a week.  Think about that. I'll leave it hanging to the wall for the moment.

Assembled hacks are in the Cross Keys in Gracechurch, St London to talk about the launch of Wetherspoon's next beer festival which will feature 10 international brewers, all of whom are here.  They are introduced one by one to be presented with a frame memento of their activities.  Most seem confused as you might well be in their situation.  As we listen, we sip rather flat and ordinary beer, jugged upstairs.  It isn't a great advert for cask beer. One disappointment (though logical if you think about it) is that as the brewers had just brewed the beers, they weren't actually available.)

Since they first started JDW's beers festivals have grown both in pints sold and how it is presented to the public, since the first one in 2006 when a respectable 1.1 million pints were sold.  Now they expect 3.5 million pints to disappear down thirsty throats. They'll be delivered in 35,000 nines, to 900 pubs from just two depots.  This year there are 10 international brewers from as far away as New Zealand - the Yeastie Boys - to, as the crow flies from London, next door Belgium by way of Hildegard Van Ostaden from De Hoppeschuur.  They brew in a variety of breweries, such as Caledonian, Banks, Wadworth, Adnams and many more.  This is in addition to the American Craft Brewers Showcase in which one American craft brewer a month comes across the pond to brew their beer for all JDW pubs*.  All of this is making JDW a lot more interesting a place to drink beer.  That isn't all.  JDW has just launched three American craft beers in cans from New York's Sixpoint brewery, which at two for a fiver, kind of blows a hole in craft beer pricing.  BrewDog and Goose Island bottles are already there and there is a decent range of other unusual bottles to drink at keen prices, especially if you aren't drinking them in London. (In London four quid for a cheaply imported Polish beer is hardly a bargain.)  They are already selling British brewed keg craft beer in limited quantities and no doubt will sell more as time goes on.

Unrelated to the beer festival, JDW are changing a lot.  Food is better and still very reasonable.  Pubs are much less corporate now and new ones are pretty contemporary and often a lot more upmarket.  They are often in splendidly restored buildings. Of course you are still going to get the small town drinking den type pub with its John Smith Smooth drinking derelicts, all lining up for their fix at nine in the morning, but this is a diverse operation and as I have said before, like any pub, individual units are only as good as the manager and how he or she runs it.

Back in the Cross Keys, I took an opportunity to have a chat with the two German brewers (From Kloster-Scheyern in Bavaria) who had been brewing a bockbier at Wadworth.(Good choice for that I'd imagine).  They seemed pretty confused about cask beer and I got the impression that they had rather more than a few reservations about it.  The first thing Brother Tobias - yes a real live brewing monk - asked "Why is it always so flat?"  That was a difficult question to answer, but I did my best to explain why it might be so.  Nonetheless the German brewers had enjoyed their time and I got my impression from such as the Yeastie Boys who were positively bouncing about, that like most things, you have to put a lot in to get a lot out.  My suggestion though is that JDW might be advised to hold their launch in a Northern pub, where the conditioning and presentation of the beers might be a little closer to the intended outcome by the brewers.

Now I read elsewhere that the import of the Yankee canned beers is being hailed as some kind of a breakthrough for craft beer in JDW.  This misses the point that JDW has been at the vanguard of this kind of beer innovation for quite some time.  They had a range of great beers some years ago including Duvel, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and other such exotics.  They introduced Polish beers years ago when they were a bit new to the UK. They used to sell Loewenbrau Wheat Beer which isn't even brewed any more.  They try beers out and quietly drop them when demand doesn't meet expectations.. You can probably expect that the availability of the new range will be reduced in many pubs if the beers don't sell, or, as in the past, they may just quietly be withdrawn. so maybe we best wait and see before getting too excited?

Wetherspoons has a lot of knockers that tend to concentrate on the negative aspects of the company.  Just have a look at the comments on Boak and Bailey's blog if you doubt that. Snobbery about them abounds (I for one don't care of people are ordering jugs of lurid coloured drinks - that's up to them).  Nor do I need beer advice from JDW staff other than "What colour is it?"  If JDW sold the Port St or Craft range at knockdown prices, there would still be many snobs that wouldn't want to go there to breathe the same air as John Smith's or WKD drinkers.  For them beer inclusiveness is simply a phrase you hear about, but not one you'd dream of espousing.  Of course negatives exist and should not be denied, but despite the turned up noses of some beer geeks,  there is little doubt that the industry can't do without them. (Just go back to that figure of 15,000 UK barrels a week). Often they are the best bet for decent beer and food in many a small town, or in many a beer desert.  They have 283 pubs in the 2014 Good Beer Guide, 890 pubs out of  905 Cask Marque accredited pubs and they sell a lot of beer.  Only 34% of their turnover is food, so they are still wet led, despite all those eggs and all those breakfasts.

Wetherspoon has in effect had a number of game plans for years and they flex them as needed.  Prices vary according to location. In small towns, they provide cheap drinks.  In airports there is a different offer aimed at the transitory customers they attract.  In London the offer splits between inner and outer, with prices varying accordingly, as they do all over.  You won't see many scallies in the Crosse Keys for sure, but despite prices being on a par with other pubs in the area, it is still choc-a-bloc full of suits.  Must be a good reason for that surely?

Love them or hate them, Wetherspoon has been doing a lot of things right for years. Selling a few cans of American craft doesn't change  that at all, but maybe it will make a few more think again about the company. 

One or two myths arise in B&B blog:  JDW managers have the discretion to buy locally at a certain price. If they don't, it is likely because the manager can't be arsed. Area managers do have a role here, but will devolve power to the individual managers as they see fit.

While JDW is cheap in many places, it isn't particularly so in Central London, yet still very popular. For example in Jeff Bell's new pub a pint of Koenig Pils is £3.90.  In Goodman's Field in Aldgate, a pint of Heineken is £3.95.  Jeff Bell isn't known for his cheap beer.

From Wednesday of this week each JDW will have to have one of Fullers London Pride, Sharp's Doom Bar or Adnams Broadside.  I'm looking forward to trying two of these in great Northern condition.

*Yesterday I had Make It Rain from Sixpoint. It was superb. Brewed at Adnams.

Lastly, disclosure. (1) I got a few halves of very flat beer and a couple of onion bajis from JDW.  I declined a later tour of JDWs in a bus and I was sent the three cans, which I haven't yet tried.  (2) You'll find me in the excellent Regal Moon in Rochdale almost any Wednesday night.

Cable Steet E1

London, especially the East End, is endlessly interesting to me.  It has been hugely knocked about, gentrified and changed by bombing, demolition, regeneration and speculation, but you can still see in places what it was.

Yesterday we took a walk down Cable St, famous for its stand against Oswald Mosley's Fascist Blackshirts on Sunday 4 October 1936, when residents and others, together with the police dispersed a march by the British Union of Fascists.  There is a plaque on a wall just round from our flat, (but oddly in Dock St, not Cable St,  though I am sure it used to be), that commemorates the event.   This history pops up again as I looked out for pubs as we walked along the 1.2 miles, heading for Limehouse Basin.

First of all we came across the ex Crown and Dolphin, which look as though it is still a pub. It isn't of course, being residential.  It closed in 1992 to become flats and was a Charrington house.   Next along, yet another conversion to flats, but again you can see traces of its former ownership.  This was the Britannia Tavern first listed in 1839 and owned by Meux, Truman and latterly, Taylor Walker. It closed in July 1996, but the tiled exterior leaves you in no doubt as to what it once was. If you squint along the top of the pub you can still see Meux's Ales and Stouts in gilded lettering, peeping through the overpainting.

Moving on through the mass of council or possibly housing association flats, we come to the ex King's Arms.  Built like a very large brick shithouse, a magnificent painted Mann, Crossman and Paulin sign on a gable tells you who owned it, but sadly I can find out little about it from the usual sources.  

Lastly for symmetry (though out of order by one),  is the Ship, now converted to flats again and up for sale as such.  No doubt about its provenance as a pub though and a little bit of history here too, as this was where the blackshirts used to drink and where they tanked up before the battle of Cable St and presumably where they retired to lick their wounds.

We finished up in Limehouse, in Narrow St, the only original part of this area as far as we could see and as it was raining, nipped into the historic Grapes, owned apparently by Sir Ian McKellen and where Charles Dickens, as a child was made to sing standing on tables.  Built in 1720, it is thin, dark wooded and really rather quaint.  An American tourist's dream.  Alas, to finish on a low note, the Adnams Bitter displayed both warmth and flatness.

In London, some things never change.




We also popped into the Captain Kidd on the way home. By no means original, but a good and recommended Sam Smith's pub in Wapping High St.

Saving the Best to First - The Bermondsey Beer Mile

The Bermonsey Beer Mile or rather, the Bermonsey Beer Mile and a Half and a Bit, but that hardly trips off the tongue. Bermondsey Beer Mile it is then.  The walk itself is quite interesting, particularly if you fancy seeing a council flat bit of London and quite what the locals make of the bearded hipsters wandering about, I don't know, but I didn't see any of them getting duffed up, so I suppose up with them, the locals must be putting.

We walked from our place for the mile and a half to get to the beginning, but as we wanted to end up back on our manor rather than in Millwall, we passed by the early topers kicking off at Anspach and Hobday/Bullfinch and wended our way past Brew by Numbers, Kernel and Partizan to our destination, the furthest point on this upmarket brewery crawl.  Fourpure is set in the furthest recess of an industrial estate and unlike the others not in a railway arch, but in a large industrial unit. 

Fourpure is a decent sized operation with gleaming stainless steel vessels and John Driebergen, a very personable American, as Head Brewer.  We kicked off with a rather excellent pilsner beer of 4.7%, all body and noble hops and chatted to John about about the place.  The conical vessels are Chinese and do the job required well, with mash tun and other vessels coming from Purity when they upsized, though they needed some minor re-engineering for conversion from cask to keg brewing. Apart from the pilsner, there was a very American line up of beers all served from wall taps directly from the cold room.  A Sierra Nevada like pale, though with less sweetness, an American Brown, dark and luscious, an Oatmalt Stout with deep flavours but to my palate hampered by lots of carbonic acid from the CO2 and a rather warming IPA, which at 6.5% drank its strength. The beers are all sensibly priced at £1.50 per third to £4.50 a pint irrespective of strength. John said "Anyone charging more than that in the brewery, even in London,  is ripping you off."  Are you listening others?

I enjoyed our chat with John who seemed a most sensible chap, particularly as we seemed to agree on things like murky beer being a bad idea, London is a poor place to drink cask and that sort of thing. Anyone that agrees with me on such matters can safely be regarded as a prince among men.  Surprisingly there was only around ten customers, so that made it even more enjoyable in chatting terms, but I suspect that won't last.

All good things must come to an end and despite the fact we could both have supped that gorgeous pilsner all day, we set off to complete the crawl, though (as it turned it unwisely) deciding to omit Partizan and Kernel as we'd been there a few times before.  But walking makes you thirsty, so we did call into Kernel, but beat a retreat from the mayhem in there. Jammed full and with a queue at least thirty long, we decided not to bother.  Retracing our steps to Partizan was ruled out, so we pressed on.  We quite liked our next stop, Brew by Numbers for the friendly and chatty crowd. E enjoyed her Golden Ale though my Saison with Nelson Sauvin was like fermented pineapple juice - way too sweet for me, despite a little farmyard funk.  Unfortunately the beer I really wanted to try, the stout, ran out as I queued - yes more of that - so we left and made our last call at Anspach and Hobday/Bullfinch where two breweries share kit and outlet in a very small railway arch absolutely crammed with people. Lots of the beers had run out here and E was most unhappy that what was left was all too strong for her.  I had a rather good bottle of porter, which was thick, oily, roasty and bitter. Oh and clear, as all the beers seemed to be looking around me.  A bit disappointing that for E there was nothing to drink, but we were promised a better range from keykeg from next week.

And that was that. Pick of the bunch by a Bermonsey Mile was Fourpure for really drinkable, clear, well made beers and sensible pricing.  An observation I'd also make is that this brewery crawling is becoming just too popular for the rather small premises and numbers wanting to get in on the act. Something has to give there surely?

Still, on a perfect day for a walk, it was a rather pleasant afternoon out.

Can anyone tell me how some of the breweries get away with illegally selling beer in 33cl draught measures?

Way Out West

I like wedge shaped pubs.  There is just something about them, the way they sit astride two roads with a "Look at me, aren't I bloody great?" sort of way.  They are always interesting inside too, with quirky layouts and all the better if they have floor to ceiling windows from which you can smugly peer at those unlucky enough not to be inside supping ale.  Well that's the theory anyway, so how does an actual one measure up in the real world?

The Finborough Arms is a wedge shaped pub, so there's a good thing right away.  It is painted in a very fetching pale green that I have to say suits it. The second good thing is that it has been recently acquired by well known London licensee and ex beer blogger Jeff Bell, who has successfully - very successfully - built the Gunmakers in Clerkenwell into the thriving and popular pub it is now.  The Finborough Arms it seems had been a wine bar for some years and has a small theatre above it. Well that should be a ready made "audience", so a flying start there.  It is situated in a busy residential area in Brompton, just a few hundred yards from Earls Court Exhibition Centres, though Brompton West is your tube stop.  The area around all looks pretty well heeled so, second tick in the box.  The Finborough should attract customers, as I didn't see any other pubs in the immediate area.

But pubs are all about the offer aren't they? Here Jeff doesn't disappoint with a canny but solid offering of six handpumped beers, two real ciders and a gleaming array of tall keg fonts offering Koenig Pilsner as his "cooking lager" with Lagunitas IPA on a permanent pump too and, in a bit of a coup, Tipopils, an Italian pilsner of some repute, (though I have to say not to my taste), but doubtless an attraction to many.

On its opening night last night the place was bursting as you'd expect and was admirably run by Jeff in his usual ebullient way. His very efficient staff  seemed to hit the ground running too. The beer - strictly middle of the road, but well thought out - Jeff knows his London public and what sells - was, as you'd expect, in top condition and cool.  There won't be any problems in that direction.  For those interested in such things, the bar is basically wedge shaped too, with one leg of the wedge dedicated to keg and t'other to cask.  Toilets are both upstairs and downstairs and there is a further room and seating, though it looked a work in progress. The windows are just as you'd like too.

All in all impressive.  He'll do fine.

Not sure if there will be food, but I did see pickled eggs if that'll help.

Rammed

When I was younger pubs were usually pretty busy, though very rarely so busy that you couldn't get in the door, or if you did, felt completely unable to force your way to the bar and were doomed to ignominious retreat. It happens in London a lot, not even on a Friday, but on a Wednesday (as I remarked here) and a Thursday, as happened no less than twice to me this week.

After awful beer in the Ten Bells in Spitalfields, we went to Liverpool St to find a cash machine and for whatever reason, I fancied a drop of Fullers,  Thinking they might have something interesting on, we tried to get into the Still and Star. Well I suppose it could have been done, but not with any degree of comfort and the thought of having to press our way through suits and suitesses just didn't appeal. Nor did standing with our drinks and being jostled seem like a plan either, so we beat a retreat.

Our next port of call on the way home, The Bell on Middlesex St, had a rather amusing A board* outside. What it didn't have and should have had, was a warning that the beer is totally flat.  In contrast to my earlier experience, this version of Harveys Sussex Bitter was a dead parrot.  It had shuffled off its mortal coil of life giving CO2 and had been vented to death.  It was flat as a pancake. No discernible CO2 at all, which was presumably, to quote Mr Python again, singing with the Choir Invisible. I left most of it while E chewed her way through a half of lager.

Back to Leman St and I thought we'd try the (newly reinstated in my circle of trust), Dispensary.  It was packed to bursting and we couldn't even see the bar.  Forget it, so it was gin and lager for us in the Oliver Conquest, which was pleasantly busy, but not packed like the Black Hole of Calcutta.

Mudgie is always saying that London is not like any other British city and he is right. Wealth abounds, but what makes people still go to pubs after work in such numbers? Two things. They have the money, but the second is public transport I'd guess. Almost everyone travels by it and that makes going for a drink after work and then staying on for a few, much more accessible.

It's my theory unless there are better ones?

I had Meantime Pilsner in the Oliver Conquest. Not the greatest beer in the world, but at least not flat and warm.

* I was wearing fingerless gloves, but then again, I have been for the last 30 years. 

The Past Revisited

I'm still on my "Pubs near my London flat" theme. There's one very near indeed that I had (until yesterday) never been in despite our fifteen years or so of it being just round the corner. The Dog and Truck I am told was rebuilt in 1935 in its present form and survived the wartime bombing unscathed. Hidden in Back Church St in East London it could be considered as a hidden gem. Well certainly hidden, though it is just five minutes off busy Leman St. But is it a gem and why despite its nearness have I not called in? I suppose the answer is that the time was never right.

The first thing you notice about the Dog and Truck is its faded Watney Combe and Reid livery.  Inside you step into the 1970s.  One single room, long and bare boarded is served from a long bar.  Typical of the seventies, there is a food servery on one side of the bar, from which astonishingly cheap (for London) food is dispensed. Think three Cumberland sausages and mash for under a fiver.  The menu has a kind of retro feel too, though food service was finished when I called in.  There are three handpulls offering Greene King IPA, another GK one turned round and thankfully, Harvey's Sussex Best which I chose and which was in splendid form. Clean, vibrant, cool and conditioned.  Lovely. I looked around. Inevitably there was a dart board and a pool table plus fruit machines.  No Space Invaders though, which was disappointing and no pink formica topped tables either, though I wouldn't have been at all surprised if there had been. Also typical of the seventies was a set of framed banknotes from around the world above the bar.

The pub had three other customers just finishing their pints when I arrived and within five minutes, there was just me and three - yes three barmaids - plus the landlord and landlady.  The boss was tilling up and the landlady sorting out some baked potatoes .  The barmaids scurried about busily.  It was a slightly surreal scene as I was completely ignored as if I was invisible, but not in a remotely unfriendly way.  One barmaid served me twice.  The only words exchanged were "£1.90 please" for my halves of beer.  No warm East End welcome, but I didn't make any effort either, serenely content as I was, sipping excellent beer in my time capsule.

I liked it a lot.  I'll be back and I'll make an effort to chat and hopefully too, I'll find it busier. I'm looking forward to it already.


It was a funny old day pubwise yesterday. More of that soon.

Keeping it Local

From time to time I tell you about the many pubs local to me here in London. There's good and bad, with one or two where I really like the pub but not the beer and some, the other way round. 

On the way back from an event I thought I'd check out the Hoop and Grapes at Aldgate, which was a pub I used to go in from time to time around ten years ago. Since then it has become part of the Nicolson chain and is shall we say, considerably cleaner.  Alas last night I was unable to update myself,  as at six o'clock the place was so rammed that I couldn't even get to the bar.  Trading well then.  A skip round the corner to the White Lion in Alie St.  Shepherd Neame with all that entails, which is a range of beers that all taste more or less the same. It's a funny little pub, which again we used to go in around ten years ago, but don't now.  It was also very busy, but service was swift. Bizarrely the barmaid thought my request for a half of Amber and of Whitstable Bay was for it to be served as a mix in a pint glass.  That sorted out, I wished it had been, so awful was the Amber and so ordinary the Whitstable Bay.

Onward and homewards.  The Dispensary used to be a local CAMRA Pub of the Year.  Despite its braying hoard of suits, we used to like it,  though beer quality varied and the old problem of very warm beer finally drove us out.  No such problems last night. The suits were still there in force, but the beer was cool, varied and well conditioned and a very pleasant pair of barmaids ran the show with a smile.  Adnams American Pale, St Austell Proper Job and two from Colchester Brewery (new to me)  were all excellent, though the Brazilian Coffee and Vanilla Porter wasn't to my taste - vanilla in beer? - just say no.  A good visit and worth a second chance I'd say.

I looked in the window of the Black Horse (not rammed) but didn't fancy either GKIPA or OSH, so moved on to the Oliver Conquest. Now this is a bit of an oddity. It had a chequered past under a different name (Mr Pickwicks) and was a notorious after hours hang out, despite being next door to the cop shop.  (I remember people tumbling out of there pissed at five in the morning as we were on our way to Liverpool St Station en route to Stansted Airport.)  It was (compulsorily) closed for a while and now in its new incarnation, is a cosy hang out of oddballs.  It offers a gin selection of over 100, a couple of handpulls, including Landlord and young staff that always seem to be whispering conspiratorially to customers. Nonetheless it is quite likeable in a tart's boudoir sort of way.  The very pleasant barman discussed Meantime beers with me happily, as he'd just come back from a brewery visit.  Meantime Pilsner was my choice and it was good and at £4.40 a pint, about par for the course I suppose.

So busy pubs for a Wednesday night, a mixed bag and two I want to go back to within five minutes of our flat. Result.

There was a few craft keg offerings including one from Hog's Back.  That one was a surprise.

Good to be Back

I'm in London and the sun is shining. Hooray. We decided last night to have a quick wander out. I kind of regard arrival here as being the first night of my holidays, which shows I have no sense at all. At least I have no work to do today (or any other day). My co-conspirator, E does of course, but we were quite restrained.

So, first a fifteen minute walk to the Draft House at Seething Lane. I really do like it here, but the cask beer never sings out to you.  It always seems to be under conditioned, or over vented.   These display similar symptoms and I'd need to know more about their cellar practice to know which it is, but there are clues, especially if you know the beer.  This time the beer of choice was Marble Pint with which of course I am rather familiar. It lacked condition, with scarecly a prickle of CO2 on the palate, but was fresh, clean and tasted like Marble Pint. It was just on the right side of cool and I noticed the Cask Marque shield prominently displayed near the handpumps. So. My verdict? Over vented.  Any London pub that would like my advice on looking after cask has only to ask. It is a bit of a specialism of mine and my fees are very reasonable.

Then another ten minutes or so to the Pelt Trader, which again I like though hardly for aesthetic reasons. Why do I like it?  The cask beer is always as spot on as it can be, given that it pours through columns in the wall.  Oakham Citra was at perfect cellar temperature and bursting with condition. You can buy cask with confidence here. Trust me on that one.

Lastly we decided on a bit of grub on the way back at our local JDW. Very nice mixed grill and a pint of  very well kept The Bruery Oatmeal Stout, part of JDW American Craft Brewers Showcase.  What a good beer. Very rich though, with cocoa powder nose, chocolate and mocha coffee with a touch of vanilla and a good silky malt and oat base which just needed a sparkler to give it the creamy head it deserved. It is perhaps a bit sweet for more than one and all the more amazing that this rather good beer came out of Caledonian in Edinburgh, whose record on these American beers is at best, mixed.

As I said, good to be back and on Saturday, the Bermondsey Mile and London Murky. 

Keeping cask beer well is as easy as pie if you have turnover. Trust me on that one too.

BrewDog - More Than Meets the Eye

Fraserburgh is cold. The wind whips off the North Sea in a salty smack that hits you like a brick wall. The waves are grey and angry and it doesn't take much imagination to feel for those that earn their living from it. BrewDog Fraserburgh isn't at all what I'd been expecting.  In an old, rickety looking warehouse, surprisingly still standing against the sea front elements is, what was until recently, BrewDog Central.  Their brewery and offices.  It is hard to believe.  Inside on a wet concrete floor a  few stainless steel brewing vessels remain, the main kit having been whisked off to the spanking new brewery at Ellon, 27 miles away.  While you do get a bit of a Ghost Town feel, there is nothing sad about Fraserburgh. It has two (very hardy) permanent staff here and they still brew, store and mature beer. And Boy are they enthusiastic about it.

James Watt you can tell is still proud of it. It all started here and from this spot, BD bluffed, begged, borrowed and outrageously gimmicked their their way to the success they have now.  James, himself a veteran of the chilly seas outside (he was a trawlerman) tells us and reminds himself of how it began. Of the way they contracted for a million bottles without a bottling line, of the struggle for money and always the belief that the vision he shares with friend and business partner, Martin Dickie that selling better beer to people, beer made in their own vision, was something they were simply going to do. As we pondered all this, we supped a wonderful Passion Fruit Sour, so clean, yet so redolent of the fruit itself , that the sourness was an almost unnoticed counterpoint. So beautifully balanced at 3% I had two. A Jasmine IPA followed, straight from the conditioning tank. It was still being dry jasmined and had some time to go, but it was distinctive and different.

We (journalists and bloggers) had started earlier with a tour of the new stainless steel cathedral that is Ellon, on an industrial estate between Aberdeen and Fraserburgh.  The kit, designed mainly by Martin Dickie and funded by "crowd sourcing"  is state of the art and purpose built. Steel piping snakes along the walls, it wraps itself around fermentation vessels, mash and lauter tuns, conditioning, CO2 and glycol tanks.  We dodge outputs from the centrifuge as it spits out spent yeast and trub (they believe in clear beer here). We climb stairs, inspect a state of the art lab, watch hypnotised as the bottling line cleans, labels, fills, caps and nudges the bottles on their way to packing. They seem almost human as they queue to meet their transport to any one of the 30 or so countries they could end up in, patiently waiting in line, then rushing forward, eager to be next.

The brewery is still being tweaked. Engineers are moving kit, but the business continues unabated. The staff seem at ease in their job and there is an easy egalitarian feel about the place.  Martin shows us a small pilot plant where a brewer is busy putting together her own recipe. Someone asks what her normal job is. "Oh" he says vaguely, "anyone that works here and wants to know more can have a go at brewing" he remarks. And adds "Who knows? It might well end up as a production beer". We enter a vast warehouse, only just handed over from the builders a few days ago.  Mountains of kegs, keykegs, bottles, products marked for export and all kinds of sundries fill the place. On the far side a veritable distillery of whisky, bourbon and rum casks sit in serried rows, full of maturing beer.  Bottled beers and kegs imported for their own bars are there too.  This is a big operation, but Martin tells us, they have room to expand. James tells us later that they will do.

It is time for a drink and a chat. After all we are invited there to see what's behind the facade.  To be charmed after some bruising encounters. To scotch some myths. We start, where else with Punk IPA, fresh as a daisy, with Seville orange, peaches and tropical fruit, it gets universal approval.  Then Jack Hammer, straight from the conditioning tank, all big C hopping, but with cask like mouthfeel as it hasn't yet been brought up to bottling carbonation. It is 7.2% but tasting nothing like it. No jaggy alcoholic edges in this beer.  Dead Metaphor is quietly coffeeish, with chocolate and subtle smoke. Not overdone as some are, it is as smooth as a baby's bum. AB15, an imperial stout, has spent time in both rum and bourbon casks and has vanilla sweetness, with a touch of rummy raisin. We are told to expect salty caramel and popcorn, but advised it was more of an impression than a taste.  Whatever; it was a beer you'd imagine yourself sipping, late at night,  from the depths of a deep armchair, in front of a dying fire. Rich and contemplative.

Questions and answers follow as we sip. James tells us all that it has been a struggle to get where they are and you can believe him. Anecdotes flow about the early days when money was tight, contract deadlines tighter and brewing capacity tighter still.  There is still a revolutionary zeal in there, but behind the hype there is an undoubted pride and a determination to brew good beer.  They believe in training, in educating customers, they talk of new openings, company ethos, getting better at what they do, but they come back to the same theme. They don't care what it costs, but they want to brew beer that stretches, that challenges, but which tastes good.  They want to educate the public and give staff professional beer qualifications. One proviso is repeated. If James and Martin don't like it, it doesn't go on sale.  We talk about hops. This is everyone's favourite subject. Facts and statistics fly around.I write them down conscientiously, but what it boils down to is an infeasible amount of hops per hectolitre, in many varieties, for one of which (it may have been Simcoe*) BD is the world's biggest user.  I ask about cask beer. James is somewhat reticent about it, but doesn't rule it out for the future.  That's good, particularly as they are looking at having more session beers and they did make very good cask indeed. At least he didn't laugh me out of court.

Later we meet at BrewDog Aberdeen, their first bar.  It is very pubby in fact, apart from the rather stern line of grey keg fonts watching over proceedings.  The staff are enthusiastic and (even though they didn't know I was a guest) keen to explain in a very non condescending way about the beers on offer.  James is pleased about that when I tell him later, but in fairness it has happened to me before in other BrewDog bars.  Nor do I recall there being a Captain Haddock like beard in sight, which does set them apart too. But in a good way.  We ate in MUSA also BD owned. The beers are good and we are talked through them, not by James or Martin, but by various BrewDog managers. This came as a complete surprise to at least one and it compounded a sense that the employees are all fully on board.

So why was I there?  Firstly because I was invited, but secondly because I was invited by James with whom I've sort of clashed swords with before.  Why were we invited?  Officially to show us the new brewery and how it is going, but I think the unspoken sub plot was so we could see there is more to BD than a dead squirrel and ridiculously strong beer.  I got the impression that rather like Ryanair's Michael O'Leary, there will be a slightly different public face - this is a big serious business now - but innovation, quirkiness and downright cheek won't be far under the surface. After all this is a young company run by young people with fresh ideas and a happiness to cock a snook at things. James and Martin are understated bosses, but they know what they want and how to bring their own people along with them which can never be a bad thing.  Both are impressive in different ways, with James shyer and more thoughtful than you might imagine and Martin the brewer and engineer, getting the brewery as it should be.  Hopefully too there will be great quaffing beer and maybe even a return of cask, though I won't be holding my breath.  You can bet too that there will be a lot more to hear about in the next few years and loads of interesting beers from this shiny new brewery. Was I impressed? You bet I was.  Was I wrong? In many ways yes. Things are often a lot clearer close up.
 
But you know, I don't think that matters so much as the fact that these guys are beer people through and through and unafraid to say so. Beer people, even when they don't brew cask are invariably impressive.  It was good to hang out with them for a bit.

At MUSA, while I particularly enjoyed the Jura Riptide, who could fail to like a beer with "Hello My Name is Vladimir" complete with a label featuring Mr P.

Disclosure: BD paid for and organised our visit.

* Simcoe was mentioned, but it was actually Nelson Sauvin

CAMRA and the Future

Tim Webb, guru and author of all thing beerily Belgian, has set the cat among the pigeons by suggesting in a letter to CAMRA's esteemed organ, What's Brewing, that CAMRA needs to change and concludes by saying:

"The challenge for the Campaign is how to adapt to the much-improved world of beer it helped create. Luke warm acceptance of, or being not against the greatest improvements to beer tastes in a century, is not a good enough stance. To younger eyes it makes CAMRA look like a much-loved grandparent who wants to keep driving even though they can’t make out the road ahead."

When you examine Tim's letter, it is a bit of a mixed bag with much to agree about.  There are some gaps in his arguments though. He says "Luke warm acceptance of, or being not against the greatest improvements to beer tastes in a century, is not a good enough stance." Sorry.  What are these "greatest improvements to beer tastes in a century". Tim doesn't say, so it is somewhat difficult to know what he is driving at here, other than CAMRA should in some way give more ground to those who believe in beer other than real ale.  Actually that is most of us and most CAMRA members. A few die hards maybe stick entirely to cask, but most of us drink other beers too, so to some extent this is a moot point for CAMRA members, though there is a growing number of younger end beer drinkers that may need a little more convincing from their side of the argument. The divide isn't just a CAMRA affair.

He does make some very valid points about brewing practice and has concerns with the word "traditional" in the CAMRA definition of real ale, implying it harks to a non existant golden age where things were done "properly".  He is right of course and partial conditioning of beer in the brewery is nothing new at all. As for "traditional", I rather fancy it came from the name that the trade used to call real ale - cask conditioned beer if you like - rather than any attempt to imply beer had always been made in an artisanal and time honoured way, as Tim suggests. The trade used the term "traditional" to distinguish it from keg and other bright beers. His assertion that the CAMRA definition would implode if the word "traditional" was removed is somewhat unsupported by any evidence.  I would be most suprised if real ale drinkers were, or are, purely or substantially attracted to real ale due to tradition.  I suspect the answer is much more prosaic and that most feel that (to them) it just tastes better.

I do agree with him in other ways though.  The genie is out of the bottle in that there are many more good beers out there, that are neither traditional, nor cask conditioned, so it does need to be addressed.  How to co-exist with this is a dilemma.   To paraphrase Marx, "The problem is not in identifying what is wrong with the world, but how to change it." Tim says in his letter about the Good Beer Guide "CAMRA has championed a bureaucratic device to inform its members what sort of beer is good – as in the term Good Beer Guide. Thirty years ago this mattered little, as decent beer and cask ale,in Britain at least, were synonymous. But then things changed."

Tim offers no solutions as to what should be done, so, eating this elephant bite at a time,  here's a thought: The Good Beer Guide may not be the all inclusive, unambiguous title that it once was, (as Tim Webb points out) but it has recognition and value which make a change in the short term not only unlikely but commercially suicidal.  Why not though run a bold strapline under the title to say "The definitive guide to real ale and where to drink it"? CAMRA would then, if nothing else be nailing its stated real ale colours to the mast and be clearlyclaiming no more than the GBG is a guide to real ale.

The vexatious question of what CAMRA should do about craft keg is one that needs a bit more careful thought. But by my suggested subtle change to the Good Beer Guide, we'd have a starting point.   CAMRA campaigns for real ale. Just accept that and build on it and modernise it, including our definition of real ale and a full explanation of how the term arose. We should be unafraid where we encounter a mixed economy of cask and keg. Most good craft beers bars already do this. We should provide better education and words about other beers and better definitions of them too.  We need to include more about craft keg beer in our publications, including the GBG, while still emphasising our commitment to real (cask) ale as uniquely British and a fantastic product in its own right. The fact that by and large it can only be consumed in the pub is a good point to emphasise too, as should the fact that cask beer still has its dangers to face. (Which is another reason to support it strongly). We in CAMRA do need to improve what we do  and how we do it in a changing beer world (despite the urban nature of most of the changes).

There are other areas too where we need to up our game. But we aren't as broken, out of touch and irrelevant an organisation as Tim implies.  Not by a long chalk. But maybe it is time to demonstrate that to the doubters.

Actually the Good Beer Guide often mentions in its entries the fact that craft keg and bottles are sold.  I also recommend both Curmudgeon and Paul Bailey who cover this subject too.

Where's That Brewery Again?

I was gratified to see the British Beer and Pub Association doing something useful for a change.  They have produced a comprehensive report of every parliamentary constituency, showing the impact the number of breweries and pubs in each has on jobs and wages, with details of numbers employed etc.

Great stuff I thought turning to three of my local constituencies.  All three have the number of breweries, not just wrong, but very wrong. Breweries surely aren't that hard to place in the right area? Plenty of stuff about that on line. I don't know about the pubs - that's doubtless harder - but inaccuracy doesn't fill me with confidence about any of the rest of it.  

Not sure whether to blame arithmetic or geography here.

 Problem is not much (if anything) else aligns with parliamentary constituencies, so I actually  have some sympathyfor them.

More Power Please

Isn't it funny how those that seek to limit what you do dress it up as "much needed reform",  "a sensible tidying up", a need to be flexible to address local concerns" and ominously, to improve public health"?  The latest view of the Local Government Association about the future of Licensing calls for a complete throwing out of the current (now declared by them as obsolete) licensing system, which for alcohol, was introduced only 10 years ago.  In fairness to them, they are considering more than just alcohol licences, as taxis, kebab houses, betting shops and more come under their purview and they do make a sensible case for getting rid of multiple licenses for the same business.

To wind back a little, when the Licensing Act 2003 (which became law at midnight 23rd November 2005) transferred the powers previously vested in magistrates to local authorities and by law, from them to Licensing Committees.  The Act laid down several things which must happen, such as Premises Licences which covered the building in which the activity took place and an individual licnce to sell and authorise the sale of alcohol. (I am such a licence holder).

Now comes the bits which allow local discretion.  Four compulsory licensing objectives were set out:

1. the prevention of crime and disorder,
2. public safety,
3. prevention of public nuisance, and
4. the protection of children from harm

These cover most eventualities in that Licensing Committees can add conditions to the premises licence to limit what the establishment can do to ensure compliance with the objectives.  Thus it is that hours can be limited, noise can be kept down, plastic glasses can be enforced, as well as may other things. I recall on the course which I took, having to learn all about this in order to pass and be awarded my ticket.   There is also an overall "Cumulative Impact Policy" which though not part of the Act, allows Committees to consider whether too many licensed premises in one area might impact on the four objectives.

Can you see much wrong with that?  Well I can't, but our dear local authorities do. Putting aside the need to roll together multiple licenses,  lets turn to pubs.  It was one of the intents of the original Act to make the granting of licences less dependent on local whim and enshrine within a set of objectives, a presumption of "Yes" to applications. Local bureaucrats now feel they should be able to alter these to include taking into account the health impacts in an area, decide locally about withdrawal of licenses on yet to be specified grounds and apply local fees to all of this which will no longer be standard. More worrying would be the introduction of a health provision (which already applies in Scotland and reads "Protecting and improving public health."

Taken as a worst case scenario, where alcohol is concerned they would be able to act on any local whim, (however unreasonable) , increase fees, decide on what affects our health - whatever that might mean - and under the guise of "allowing businesses to flourish" and "hand communities the protection they deserve" ride roughshod over anyone they care to. (I guess they could also do the same for kebab shops and taxis.)

Now it may well be that the LGA is on to something here, but am I alone in thinking they would like to be able to put their fingers more deeply into more pies and charge us more for the privilege? We really need to watch out that this isn't just a subtly disguised bid for money and power. 

The LGA  report "Open for business. Rewiring licensing." is on line here   Blame the LGA for the poor quality photo.

Three Recommended Beers

It was the Good Beer Guide Selection meeting on Saturday at the upstairs room in the Baum in Rochdale still, for a couple more weeks or so, CAMRA's National Pub of the Year.  Over 45 people attended and as usual, Simon, the owner, had a great selection of beers for us to help the deliberations.

All were in tip top condition and we drank at least one of them dry and probably knocked a big hole in several more.  I stuck to Mallinsons at first, but when Hawkshead Cumbrian 5 Hop came on, I knew I had a date with destiny.  It is truly irresistible. The brewery describes it as "A thoroughly modern beer made, as is our way, with a blend of traditional English and modern American hops, five varieties in all.”  The result is a superbly drinkable beer which as full bodied, clean and crisp, but with layer upon layer of hoppy delights. It is typical of Hawkshead, whose standards and attention to detail are hard to equal.

I should say too that the preceding beers from Mallinsons were no slouches either with the Herkules Centennial, double hopped with the hops of that name, being delightfully bitter, but again precise and clear and very drinkable.  Motueka provided some Southern Hemisphere fruitiness and complexity which was just as appreciated. It was a long meeting, but nonetheless buoyed up by great beers from great brewers, a few of us lingered over a few more pints of 5 Hop afterwards.


Who could blame us?

A Piss Up in a Brewery?

I've quite a lot of time for Thwaites - nowadays that is. It wasn't always so, as almost all they ever offered was smooth beer in various forms, but a concious decision several years ago to return to cask has seen the brewery profile multiply by a huge factor and with beers like Wainwrights becoming a runaway success, they had the confidence to build within the main brewery, the Crafty Dan Brewery, producing specialist craft beers in cask, keg and bottle, which I visited and wrote about here. The beers have been good too, with several winning awards and some of their seasonal beers have been spectacularly good - and different.

Underlying all this, for several years the bigger plan has been to vacate the cramped central Blackburn premises which houses the Star Brewery, sell it to Sainsbury's for yet another supermarket and build a new, smaller, state of the art brewery on a greenfield site on the outskirts of Blackburn by the motorway. Seems like a good plan, so what could possibly go wrong? Well everything it seems. The local council has offered several sites but none has been followed up and it now seems for reasons unknown, that the proposed Sainsbury redevelopment will not take place either. It is hard to ascertain why and although the local Lancashire Telegraph has a good go at it here, I'm none the wiser really.

But one thing is clear. Thwaites are to sack most of the brewery workforce, close the main brewery which they describe as "obsolete", keep Crafty Dan going, outsource the brewing to Marstons of all their main brands (some may also be brewed at Burtonwood I am told) until such time as they can find a new brewery site. Yes the same brewery site they have been unsuccessfully seeking for years. Thwaites it seems are more or less up shit creek without a paddle. Their main brands brewed by rivals, their brewery more or less closed, their workforce sacked and the new brewery no nearer than ever. Some cynics from rival breweries in the North West that I have spoken to, believe that Thwaites will never open a new brewery.

 Only one way to prove them wrong I suppose, but time is running out.

The workers didn't take being given the heave ho lying down. The Thwaites sign on the brewery tower was altered to reflect their feelings.