Part of the Union

I heard recently of Union Street in Bermondsey as being a place worth a visit. Fortunately, E knew exactly where it is so following her directions, we had a pleasant walk across the Thames until I pointed out we seemed to be getting further away from it. Now it seems that the version of Google I was using could not be trusted in this matter. So after E consulted her much wiser version, we retraced steps and eventually found ourselves on Southwark St. There it was, just round the corner, as presumably it has always been.

Back a million years ago, my trade union was based in Southwark St, but I had never had a reason to visit it, but I could remember that they all used to go to the pub nearby. What was it called? I couldn't recall, but once again, fortune favoured me. We spotted the White Hart - that was it - and it looked very pleasant, but being a Fullers house, it wasn't what I had in mind, but later, we sort of wished we had called in.

Our first port of call was the Union Jack, quite a pleasant looking pub with long, large windows and rather an appealing inside. Quite old-fashioned, I suppose, but in a good way, and the welcome from the barman was genuine and warm. A sole, dusty looking handpump sported a St Austell Tribute clip on it, but we weren't taking a chance on it. A pint and a half of fairly ordinary Camden Hells was ordered - is it me or is this getting a bit rarer? -  and we enjoyed the visit. I feel being busy, which is certainly wasn't, would have cheered the place up no end, but it was fine, and the welcome made up for a lot.

We ignored the Charlotte just over the road on account of its Heineken sign and went into the rather unlikely looking Lord Nelson. Now, you couldn't accuse this eclectically decorated pub of being quiet. A very young clientele were filling the place, many wiring into hefty plates of fried food and burgers. The food looked fab and I quite liked the place, even though clearly we weren't the target clientele by several decades. Sadly, the rude barman, who was just finishing his shift, wasn't paying the least bit of attention and I had to repeat my simple order of a pint and a half of Camden Hells. I tried to engage him, but clearly I was wasting my time. He promptly thereafter went off duty and removed himself to haunt the other side of the bar. Ageist I wondered? Possibly, but I'm happy to give him the benefit of the doubt and allow he had just had a long shift. Either way, I honestly liked the place, recognised its attraction to others, and as a bonus the Camden Hells was a large cut above its neighbour's. E on the other hand couldn't wait to get out. So, I'd say visit, enjoy the vibe, but only if you are under thirty or are immune to feeling out of place if you aren't.

Of course, even in a small pub crawl such as this, you have to pick a favourite. Heading back to Borough Market and the 343 over the river, we nipped into Mc & Sons. This is an Irish style pub - without the umpteen intrusive televisions - and was severely rammed with after work drinkers.  Nonetheless, the service was swift and cheerfully efficient, but it was so busy I could see little of the bar. I'm pretty sure there was no cask and I wouldn't have had it anyway here, as everyone seemed to be guzzling Guinness.  If you can't beat them, join them is sometimes not a bad motto.  The Guinness was the best I have ever had in London. Perhaps a tad cold, but certainly the best since I was last in Belfast, and at least a match for Mulligans in Manchester.  

So we had another. Seemed the right thing to do, especially since the same barman who'd served me, when collecting glasses, saw us standing in a corner and shifted some office workers who'd purloined the table that should have been there.  Thus seated, we enjoyed the busy scene even more.

We left with considerable reluctance, but we will be back. As always.  "It's the offer, Stupid."

We nearly had a third drink, but it was Burns night, and haggis neeps and tatties in our local JDW were calling us.  That was rammed too, and the staff did their best, which really is all you ask of them.

I had hoped as mentioned in an earlier post, to tell you of the Sir Sydney Smith, but that, alas, must wait.

Belfast Pubs - The Conclusion

Following on from E's bout of sickness, we did the touristy bit. The Titanic Experience isn't just about the ship, but about Belfast. Suffice to say, it was brilliant, especially the "ghost train" trip of the shipyard with accompanying sounds.  You need to go there really to see what I mean - and very worthwhile it is, too. There was also entertainment on the bus back to the centre. Belfast's buses still have inspectors and as tickets must be purchased before entering the bus, it follows that spot checks are made.  Now they aren't soft enough to wait with the crowds at the Titanic bus stop, nor the one after, but a posse swooped at an obscure stop in the middle of nowhere. We were fine, of course, being old and law-abiding, but a young lad by us was frantically thumbing his phone as the inspector made his way toward him. "Too late for that" remarked the inspector as he asked for the lad's ticket.  Oddly, the fare dodger seemed to relax at this point - on a fair cop basis, I assume.  His details were obtained and, a fine of sixty pounds, was rammed up his arse. The inspector added insult to injury as he left, calling over his shoulder, "£60, plus the fare!"

This kept us entertained until we reached the City Centre.  E was still feeling crook, but gamely came along with me to the Crown Liquor Saloon, where I obtained us a booth and a very creditable pint of Oakham Citra. E stuck to tonic water. For my second pint, I noticed that they sold Belfast Black Stout by Whitewater Brewery.  I ordered one and this proved to be a very wise decision. Smooth, black, hoppy, and not at all cardboardy - Guinness to note. We were joined in our booth by a lad from Dublin and his young son, who had escaped from a family shopping trip, as the boy was hungry. He assumed I was drinking Guinness and expressed surprise at my choice. I assured him it was a very decent pint, but he looked doubtful.  We chatted amiably, though, as his son devoured sausage and chips. A very pleasant chat ensued as we agreed Belfast was a fine place. Alas, a third pint was denied as E felt a bit tired after her sleepless night, and fancied two or three hours kip before our booked meal later by the University.

We hopped on the bus and soon E was tucked into bed. This gave me a chance to nip out onto Botanic Avenue, as I'd spotted a couple of drinking establishments there. First was The 1852. Not my normal sort of bar, but it was laid back and had a few younger types idling around and some gentle music. I sat people watching with a pint of Open Gate Citra IPA, which while nothing spectacular was fine in the circumstances. Service was pleasant, and while I wasn't in a place where I'd meet someone to chat to, I enjoyed it so much, surprising myself, I actually took E there later on that night after our meal.  Just up the road - I didn't want to stray too far - was a place that looked fine, so in I went. It was a large modern bar with what looked like a full size cherry blossom tree behind the bar. It was rather stunning. I don't know what it was called, as it seemed anonymous outside. See Street View to get my point.  There was football on and again, Citra IPA, so chatting to this one and that one, a pleasant hour passed until I returned to the hotel. A bit different for me, but not worse for that - and very relaxing.

We met friends the next day at the Deer's Head, a brewpub, with very well-made beer in the modern style. That is hazy, but there wasn't lumps in it and we thoroughly enjoyed it, except for the slightly aggressive servers, the 10% surcharge for table service that we didn't want, and a complete refusal to split the bill between two of us.  We decanted after that to the friendly John Hewitt, an old-fashioned bar with very modern beers from Ireland and the UK. I'd certainly go back there. 

The next day we returned home, but we had a hour or so to kill before the bus to the airport, so were first equal customers into Robinsons Bar, where we had our first pints. I ordered a Harp just because I could, and it was really rather good. Clean and bitter and very enjoyable, I necked a couple while watching more football. E was back on tonic, and we nattered to one of the bar staff, who simply came over for a chat. Great stuff. And that was it. A quick bus trip to the airport where, suffice to say, the Harp there - all locally brewed beers were off - wasn't as good as the Robinsons one.

So to sum up. Belfast was great for pubs, beer and touristy things.  It would have been even better if E was 100%, but fine nonetheless. The people were fabulous on the whole and I'd go back in a heartbeat.  Guinness was, I think, just about the most popular beer. Best pub overall? Robinsons.  Professional, friendly and in my opinion the best Guinness I had.

I realise we only scratched the surface of Belfast's pubs. Next time I'll dive deeper.  We did other things too. The Ulster Museum, Botanic Park and the Universities, the Palm House and Town Hall.  Lots of walking about - Belfast centre is pretty flat.

Best beer? Probably Capstan Aussie Pale by Bell's Brewery at the Deer's Head, but oddly, the Harp at Robinsons hit the spot pretty well too.

The Duke of York and Bittles Bar

I used to collect breweriana - the bits and pieces that breweries produce as advertising material - and still have a fair few items, though nowadays I no longer seek to increase my hoard. I do though maintain my interest in the stuff, Thus, I looked forward to the Duke of York in Belfast, which is renowned for a collection of mainly Irish brewery mirrors and other assorted paraphernalia. The pub itself is in a sort of wide cobbled alley. Inside it was warm and welcoming and really quite busy.  We got our beers - Guinness again - and found a seat to the right of the bar (or left if you are behind it) where we could see what was going on, always a prime consideration for me. The Guinness was fine as far as it goes, but it was no contest to the main attraction for me. Quite simply, every bit of wall, ceiling, door and window was covered in breweriana, mainly from Guinness, but as my eyes adjusted, also signs and enamels from defunct Irish breweries, some Scottish and English ones and breweries such as Bass that had brewed beer in Belfast. (As an aside, I have a Bass Belfast clock and yes - it still works.)

In addition to the main room with the bar, there is a further room which, fortunately, was quieter, while also having similar covering on every space.  It could just about be said to concentrate on mirrors, with some fantastic brewery and whiskey examples - some very rare I assume - as well as many other fine examples of collectables. I'd venture many are worth a bob or two.  The wall across from us, could possibly be said to major on clocks, mainly from Guinness, though there were plenty of other items of interest. In fact, my sole Guinness clock had one of its brethren opposite us and though ours still works - somewhat temperamentally it has to be said - the clocks here certainly did not.  All, or most seemed to be lit though, and while I wandered round to have a look, it was a great frustration that I could not examine them at my leisure. Firstly there were people enjoying their drinks in the way and secondly there just wasn't time. I really must return at opening for a proper examination, though frankly, to give it its place, I'd need several hours.

It really was a fabulous pub with a pleasant atmosphere and a nice buzz about it, but we had another pub to go to and left with a fair bit of regret.

A half mile or so walk took us to Bittles Bar. This is one of these flat iron bars where it is at the point of two streets.  It is a kind of Tardis in reverse, in that it looks bigger on the outside than it does inside. It also has a bit of reputation for quirky rules and an idiosyncratic landlord.  It really is small inside.  We were greeted at the door and asked how many of us there were. The reason became quickly apparent, as it seemed very full, but our guide/waiter/barman found us a perch, and we ordered our Guinness.  Now they don't serve half pints, so pints it was.  We took in our surroundings. Many paintings of poets, politicians and other characters adorned the walls. There was a lovely buzz of conversation, and indeed, not a spare seat in the house. It is table service only here. In fact getting near the bar to see what is sold is difficult, as somewhat uniquely, to use every foot of space, there are three tables in front of the bar.  No bar blocking here and little chance to see what is being sold, but I suppose you could just ask.

The quirkiness of the place can be seen on various signs at the bar. A tongue in cheek (or perhaps not) one advises that due to Brexit, Guinness cannot be sold in halves. Another strictly advises "No human rights! No football."  It is highly recommended.

We ordered second pints, then things went wrong. E had been a little quiet and whispered that she wasn't feeling too well.  Oh. I'd been ill the day before, but it has passed. It seemed though I'd passed the bug on to E.  She had to get back to the hotel. Bravely, I supped what I could, and we left and rushed back to the hotel, where E spent the rest of the evening - it was around ten by then - and overnight throwing up.

Fortunately such bugs, while unpleasant, soon pass and the next day, E was much improved, though she didn't drink anything alcoholic. These things happen, and we just made the best of it that we could.

Bittles apparently sells 700 pints of Guinness a day and, according to the Guinness Guru (caution advised), has the best Guinness in Belfast. We enjoyed the visit and were treated very well indeed, though the famous landlord wasn't there.

That proved to be my last pint of Guinness of the trip. I'd given it a good go, but frankly, it is still a distress purchase for me. 

 Click on any photo to enlarge.

In a Neat Little Town

Many years ago when I was working, for a couple of years, I used to visit Belfast probably once a month or so.  I remember then that Special Branch paid a fair bit of attention to travellers, and at Manchester Airport, I was asked more than once for my reason for visiting.  "Business - Government business" was my answer.  I was quick to add that it was Social Security business and that was that. No such problems at Manchester Airport now, but I still find it fun, when asked about why I went to Belfast, to tell people that I used to advise the Northern Ireland Government. Well, I did, but it sounds a lot less impressive when I reveal that it was about how to integrate NI and GB Social Security computer systems.

So, last month we went for a few nights, just for pleasure and in my book, that was going to be trying out a few more pubs than I was able to visit then. Back in the day, my visits to pubs were fairly few and confined, more or less, to those that were near the famous Excelsior Hotel, where I usually stayed. This time, we stayed in a nice hotel in the Botanic area and as we walked from the bus station towards it, I was pleased to note that Great Northern Tower, where I worked, was still there and right next door to the famous Europa Hotel. I didn't remember it being quite so close, though opposite was the Crown Liquor Saloon, which I did.

After checking in, we set off to get the feel of the place and to visit a few pubs, more of which later.  But for now, I'll just mention one or two differences between Nornireland pubs and those in GB. Firstly, they just seem more professionally run. Most of the bar staff aren't teenagers with a combined inability to look you in the eye and the attention span of a gnat, but older men and women who clearly regard bar work as a profession. In short, the service was almost universally great, as was the conversational nature of the transactions.  The pubs varied a lot, but were clean, warm and welcoming. Not exactly like GB pubs, more like in Ireland, without a telly on every vertical surface.

Now what about the beer? Well, you won't be surprised that Guinness is pretty much the leading drink there.  I was though, a little surprised at the lack of imported brands, although there were a few (mostly lagers) from Ireland.  Some from GB of course and surprisingly few local beers at first glance, though I suspect the major brewers have much of the taps tied in one way or another. We started off in Robinsons, a fine big boozer next to the Crown Liquor Saloon. Our choice? Well, Guinness of course - you have to for your first at least don't you, and this was a fine example of what I regard as a pretty unimpressive beer. I had learned before I went there that the gas mix in Ireland - presumably including the North too - is a 75/25 nitrogen to CO2, whereas in GB it is 70/30, making for a less creamy and smooth pint than in Ireland. The atmosphere was good and late on a Tuesday afternoon, the pub was busy with a constant stream of people nipping in for one after work.  

Now I'll return to other pubs in my next post, but my final two observations are one particular one and one more general. Aren't the people there just lovely?  Everyone was so helpful and pleasant, from bar staff to bus inspectors - yes they still have them there  - and  a finer body of ladies and gentlemen you couldn't wish to meet unless you were a fare dodger of course, which we weren't.

And the last point? Belfast City Centre was pretty much like any other British City Centre. If you think it might feel a bit Irish - well, not to my eyes.

Next up Bittles Bar - Did we get thrown out for requesting a half pint?

There are some smashing restaurants around in Belfast too.  Together with great pubs, loads to see and do, and of course, the Titanic Experience, I recommend it highly.

PopUp for a Drink

Somewhat perversely I suppose, I left London before the main piss up of Craft Beer Rising started on Friday of London Beer Week.  I had arranged to go to London long before I had even thought about that and I couldn't stay on as I had an important CAMRA meeting on the Saturday.  A pity as I think I'd have enjoyed it.  Next time, I'll try and be there.  Such is the business of my better half, that I like to come when she has a little less to do, then I get the pleasure of taking her out for an overpriced pint, but this time she had a little free time and I had access to a little free beer. Hooray.

Many readers will know that the vast Truman's Brewery in Brick Lane was more or less abandoned when the brewery closed in 1989. It is now home to many arty type projects and a hub of London Beer Week.  Two pop up brewery led bars were of interest and I had an invitation, as a guest, to one. Sharps had a neat little pop up bar, open to the public, with a fair number of their lesser spotted ales on cask as well as, of course, Doom Bar.  It was good to try Cornish Coaster, Atlantic, Wolf Rock and Special. All were pretty good actually, though hardly enhanced by being served in flimsy plastic glasses.  The fun bit was an invitation to Sharp's Secret Bar, where spoonfuls of various foods were matched to Sharp's Connoisseurs range and boy did it work. This range of beers is excellent and I have to say that the Vintage Blend, described by the brewery as "Five beers of diverse styles and vintages – a Trappist Dubbel, a sweet barley wine, a Quadrupel fermented with yeast, a soured honey wheat beer and a US dry-hopped double IPA – aged for one month and blended with a base beer for truly unique results" was as stunning a beer as I've had in a long time.  The experience was great fun and while I won't divulge details in case anyone gets a chance of going, if the opportunity ever arises, jump at it.  We all trooped out with immense grins on our faces and you can't say fairer than that.  It was interesting too to talk to Sharp's (surprisingly young) brewer Andrew Madden who was a really good sort.  All in all it was a great afternoon out and you learn, if you hadn't already, that big brewers can brew bloody good beer.

Just around the corner was the Guinness PopUp.  This was clearly aiming to promote their new lager Hop House 13.  All the founts bar one were for this beer and much memorabilia and clothing was on sale. Along with my pack from London Beer week, I had a voucher for a free half, so I tried it. Not bad really, rather thin bodied and weedily bitter, it was certainly a little more tasty than many, but not likely to be my go to lager. Ever.  Of much more interest was that they were selling one off beers from the Open Gate Brewery. I won't go into this Guinness experiment here, rather, I suggest you turn to the Beer Nut who wrote about it all in his blog in early December.  Talking to the delightful guys behind the bar, they were sent a different beer three or four times and the current offering was Milk Stout. Now surprisingly to me at least, this 6.4% beer was served on plain old CO2, not nitrogen like Draught Guinness and it displayed all the negative qualities I associate with that kind of serve for ales and stouts, most notable of which was a fierce carbonic bite and the fact that the head lasted seconds.  This rendered the beer into sugar water. Not great and annoyingly sold at £3 a half while the lager was £3 a pint. Bonus was the great staff and welcome, a free bag of the best pork scratchings I've had in  along time and the fact that all the beer was served in proper glasses.

Last up in this little trio of reports was another invitation, this time by Goose Island.  This was a closed event and we were offered  three different bottled beers to go on with, Honkers, an English style Pale Ale, Goose Island IPA and a lighter wheat beer, 312. Now is that Goose Island IPA dumbed down? This was the talk and even though I have supped it at source, I couldn't say for sure, but the consensus, which I probably go along with, is that it has lost something in up-scaling it.  Nonetheless all the beers were very enjoyable in the context. There was plenty nice seafoody stuff too and a chance to scoff rather a lot of Dungarvan Oysters which certainly wasn't a hardship.  Slightly citric, salty sweet and a real treat, they were good to wash down with a swig of 312.  Later on we were invited into a holy of holies where the Goose Island Innovation Brewer, Tim Faith, talked us through tastings of Goose Island Bourbon County in its "ordinary" and aged incarnations.  All in all a good night too, though I preferred the straight Bourbon County by far.

It was great too to hook up with the Beer Father, Justin Mason and @tabamatu Andy. Great company for a good night out at any time.

E and I also went to the Pilsner Urquell pop up which was more or less next door to the Guinness one. Rather dingy inside, Tankovna PU wasn't enhanced one bit by plastic glasses though E liked an old favourite of hers, Kozel, also served from a tank, but with the same reservations on plastic. Can't remember the prices though sadly.

Read Ed's Report here too. 

Well Well

I know very little of my own about the brewing scene in Ireland. Fortunately the Beer Nut has his finger on every brewing pulse Ireland has and it is through him that I learn what little I know. I do though glean that the scene there is hotting up, with new beers and breweries sprouting up through every crack in the pavement. Or so it seems at least.

One brewery I do know of is Franciscan Well and when they asked me to come along to the London launch of some of their beers, I jumped at the chance and thus it was a couple of Thursdays ago, I presented myself in the other Smiths. The one in Spitalfields that is, not the better known one in Smithfield. Assembled bloggers (I only knew one) and press types were treated to three different beers and accompanying food. I won't attempt to describe the beers in detail, but all were presented by Des McCann, Molson Coors Beer Champion for Ireland and also described by owner and founder Shane Long. For those interested, Shane founded the Franciscan Well in 1998 on the North Mall in Cork City on the site of an old Franciscan Monastery and Well. Shane himself was primarily a publican (and still is) now turned brewer and having had the opportunity to chat to him for a while, not only is he a thoroughly engaging guy, but rather an enthusiast for the Irish Brewing scene.

The brewery was taken over by Molson-Coors in 2013, but as far as I can tell, Shane still runs the show, albeit overseen on behalf of the parent by Sharp's Supremo, Stuart Howe. They are rather proud of their Rebel Red - an Irish Red Ale -but its caramel and CO2 combo did little for me. Much more to my liking was the Chieftain IPA. Slightly sweeter than a normal IPA, but designed for local Irish palates, Shane called it an Irish Pale Ale. Best of all for me was Shandon Stout, a minerally, deep, dark beer, made luscious by nitrogen presentation and with a slightly bitter-sweet, mineral/metallic finish. I had a decent chat with Shane who explained that the Cork water,(untreated as far as I know) gives the mineral and metal taste that typifies Cork beers. I'll take his word, but I assume that the water for the other beers is treated in some way, as they tasted rather clean. We went on to discuss Guinness which Shane rather likes, though his view is that its good features are ruined by serving it at ice cold temperatures. My own conflicting view that the recipe had been so neutered over the years and the ice cold pour was meant to disguise it, was given a non committal "Well. Maybe". He still thinks it a good beer ruined by presentation. There you go. Either way, chatting to him was an absolute delight. His enthusiasm was boundless.

On the way out we were given a large, shiny, black box by the Molson-Coors PR people.  So large and ungainly, that there was no easy way to carry it. It was also extremely unbalanced by its contents, which were revealed after I'd walked home, stopping to rest my arms frequently, to be a four pint container of freshly poured Chieftain IPA. Worth a slightly uncomfortable walk.

It made a great accompaniment to Question Time and E liked it too.

All three beers are available in London it seems, or the launch was pointless.  Hospitality was courtesy of Molson-Coors

When Guinness Was Real

When did Guinness stop bottle conditioning?  I'm not actually sure, but certainly some time in the early nineties I'd say, even though here Martyn Cornell says in the eighties.  I was interested in this when reading Boak and Bailey and a suggestion - quashed as a possibility by the Beer Nut - that they start bottle conditioning their beer again. Going back to when they stopped, how do I know it wasn't the eighties?   Well, while checking through some old stuff as part of a fairly fruitless endeavour to get rid of some junk, I came across a stash of bottles including the one you see photos of.  It is "ordinary" bottled Guinness and  bears the following words on the back label "ingredients - barley, malted barley, hops, yeast and water - combined with a secondary fermentation to condition the beer in the bottle."

I recall buying it as part of a four pack in Belfast and you will see that the best before date is 29-11-95,  indicating a bottling date of maybe nine months, or slightly more, before that.  Interestingly it is bottled by Guinness Belfast.   I'd imagine the beer is still pretty well drinkable, as it has sat in the dark these last 18 or so years, though I may be wrong.  Maybe I'll try it and maybe I won't. Can't be that many of them around though, so maybe I'll keep it a bit longer.

Going back to Boak and Bailey, I was astonished at the praise from some about the two new Guinness Porters.  My view and that of many others is that they are complete gack. After giving it short shrift on Twitter and getting the odd disagreement, I agreed to try the West Indies Porter again.   At the Baum last week as part of a double tasting with the Dublin Porter, it was still a horrid, sweet, fizzy mess, as was its partner in crime.  No-one that tried them that night thought them that good at all.  Still, as I said on BB's site, beer is a broad church and I didn't even think of mentioning duff palates there. Perish that thought.

Sadly and truly, the best thing about the new beers was the labels.

The label from the early nineties is rather good too.  Bit of a classic. Click on photos to enlarge.

This Isn't a Spoof

I read this today.

Guinness launches holiday beer Guinness Generous Ale 
 

Ireland-based beermaker Guinness has unveiled a holiday beer, Guinness Generous Ale, Drinks Business Review reported on November, 20. The new beer is an amber brew with vanilla flavour.

Guinness master brewer Fergal Murray was quoted by AFP Relaxnews as saying that the beer is made up of poached pear, pie crust, toffee, a whisper of smoke and toasted marshmallow. The new beer, which is available in US, is packed in 11.2 oz bottles.

The brewery with the help of New York chocolatier MarieBelle, has also launched other seasonal beers, which include dark chocolate, vanilla, coffee and almond truffles with Frangelico liqueur.

Guinness will also be donating some portion of the proceeds to Bideawee, an animal welfare group. 

At least I don't think it's spoof. What do you make of it?

Black Tragic

My quiz league travels take me occasionally to places where there is no cask beer. Usually when that happens I'll adapt by drinking smooth mild as I find that, if not exactly enjoyable, reasonably tolerable. Last night, though there was nitro mild, I noted while waiting to be served, that it didn't have the usual Guinness like appearance, so suspecting (maybe wrongly) a gas problem, I opted for Hydes Bitter. Now you can't really accuse Hydes of making extreme beer. Their range is firmly in the middle of the road and has what brewers would call "balance", though with a much bigger nod to malt than hops. Still, it was the best thing on offer, so we all ordered it and despite all our team being cask men, we swept bravely on to victory, while sipping our tasteless fluids.

Going back to the bar at half time, I spotted bottled Guinness on sale. Not the old half pint ones, but the supermarket Guinness Original in 500ml bottles. Now I haven't had bottled Guinness Original for years, so I ordered one. It looked the part, though noticeably more brown than black. It smelled stale, but this bottle wasn't even near its best by date. The nose was caramel and cardboard. It tasted bloody awful. Instead of robust roasted barley there was an unmistakeable gravy browning taste, almost overshadowed by incessant cardboard and huge carbonation. Maybe it was a bad bottle, but somehow I doubt it. More like a cheapened recipe and heavy pasteurisation. It bore no resemblance whatever to the complex beer I remembered. Where was the roast barley? Where were the hops? Nowhere, that's where.

Possibly a clue is to be found on the back label. It mentions the classic taste and a "hint of roast barley". A hint? It used to be its signature. While the demeaned taste of Draught Guinness is hidden by nitrogenation, this beer, with only a heavy jolt of CO2 to lift it zombie like from its grave, was exposed as a poor shadow of its former self.

I hate to see a great beer ruined like this. Shame on them.

Kegged off in Cleveleys

On Saturday after a long session running the bar in our pub, while the landlady was out sponsoring Rochdale FC along with most of the Saturday afternoon regulars, I drove to Cleveleys with E and her mother to attend E's aunt's 85th birthday celebrations. Now this was held in a social club and I just knew it'd be all keg and it was. A quick inspection of the pumps brightened me up a little. Warsteiner, while not my favourite German beer by any means, was on tap. That'd do. E had promised to drive home, I'd have a few of these. No I wouldn't. It was off! With sinking heart I surveyed the remaining choice. Mostly from Thwaites - it was deepest Lancashire after all - and none appealing. Keg mild, smooth bitter, Carling, Guinness and Thwaites brewed Kaltenberg Hell Extra Cold!!

I had a pint of Guinness. The beer was dull, cardboardy and had that strange kind of edge that only harsh pasteurisation can bring. I reflected grimly on the contrast between this parody of a stout and the wonderful, fresh tasting, flavoursome stouts I had enjoyed just a week before at the Porterhouse in London. Pasteurisation ruins beer almost as much as a wishy washy recipe and believe me Guinness nowadays is a wishy washy version of the beer I used to enjoy as a treat when I was a lad. Where has that bitter, heavy, chewy body gone? That hit of roasted malt? The lip smacking East Kent Goldings finish? Gone. I'm told it's so tasteless now, that the Irish call it "black lager". Very appropriate.

I did ask for a taste of the Kaltenberg. I didn't care for it at all either, so one more pint of Guinness was forced down. That was it. Two pints all night. Some people actually drink this stuff as a matter of choice. God help them!

A good session on Lees' Spring Cheer brought me back to decent beer yesterday!