Home Drinking Starts to Pall

Those who know me well, know that I don't really drink at home. I presumably thought I did at one time, but the large number of undrunk bottles going back years that lie languishing in my garage, suggests I do not. Well certainly not enough.

Until this pandemic swiped more or less everything sideways, this cosy arrangement was fine. I went into the garage, looked at a beer, shook my head and decided not to bother. Or to go to the pub. Now things have changed. Our binmen - sorry, environmental operatives - who no doubt pre virus, looked forward to emptying my green recycling bin. It was as light as a chaste maiden's kiss, filled as it was with the odd kitchen disinfectant bottle, bog cleaner, mushy pea can and milk container. Now every three weeks, they strain every Covid-free sinew, as groaning like an overloaded dance floor, they huff and puff my brimming bin to the waiting wagon.

You see, among my other sins - and they are plenty - now that the pub is denied me, I almost always only drink bottled beer. I compound that felony by drinking bottles of a larger size. That is 500 ml and above. I rarely drink small bottles of strong beer - they are the dust collectors in the garage. Of  course the ones I do drink weigh more and take up more room in what was previously a roomy bin, but which now is so inadequate that my garage floor has the excess in it as an unwanted trip hazard. If I only drank cans, then at least I could squash the buggers down a bit and equally, not be afraid of hearing a loud pinging noise and a shriek of agony, as an overloaded binman, snaps something essential, as my bin contents are dragged to their recycling future.

Now a narrow wheelie bin, emptied once every three weeks, doesn't really represent a huge amount in the great scheme of things.   I haven't measured my intake, but I do know how it has come about. Two things; the bloody lockdown and secondly the lovely weather.  As a result of the former, our garden, while hardly going to test those who aspire to Chelsea Flower show standards, is looking pretty damn good.  So, at five'o'clock or so, we have on the sun trap patio at the bottom of our garden, taken to sitting in the sunshine and opening a couple of bottles. Each. That has been known to lead to more, or even once, when the weather stayed warm until ten at night, the addition of bottles of wine and a missed evening meal.

In a so far successful attempt to be sensible, we decided some time ago only to do this if the weather is nice. But - and this is a big but - the weather has been, on the whole, damn pleasant.  So the beer (and the crisps) have been opened more often than not.  In days when the highlights are few and far between, it really has been something to look forward to.  What's not to like I hear you ask?  Well I find myself looking wistfully at my beer and saying "We could be in the Rose or the Ringers now."  E nods in agreement. We know people there and, like most people, are company starved under this lockdown. Drinking bottled beer at the bottom of the garden seems fine and dandy. It is certainly sociable between us two, but it ain't the pub and both of us are acutely aware of it.

Now however, the weather has broken and looking ahead, there seems little prospect of sitting on the patio until at least June 15th, maybe longer. The weather forecast isn't at all promising. And you know what? I'm happy about that. On the days when the sun hasn't shone, or it has been too cold, we haven't missed it.


But rain or shine, we are missing the pub and the company we find there. Not to mention in my case, cask conditioned beer.

What have I been drinking? Well, St Austell Proper Job mostly. Bottle conditioned and at 5.5%, two is usually plenty.  Some German stuff too, but I've given up re-racked cask beer.  E has developed a bit of a soft spot for Warsteiner and Aldi Pils. 

We also have the Virtual Tavern on Zoom every Sunday, but while great,  all we really want is to be back round our table.

Drinking on the Home Front

Most of my readers (if I've still got any) and Twitter followers - I have plenty of them -  know that I don't really drink at home. I like to drink in the pub. Any pub really, but of course I do have favourites - my locals.  Places where I go quite often.  I've always been that way inclined and in fact wrote about it here, a long time ago. In these local pubs, I know enough people to be recognised by and to speak to. People who call me by my name, shake my hand when I come in and who I know by name in return. It makes me feel part of something. On the other hand drinking at home seems rather furtive somehow. Something I somewhat unreasonably feel you do not because you want to, but for reasons of finance, domestic arrangements or whatever, though of course, I freely admit, many must do so simply because they like it. It is how they drink. But it isn't really me.

Friday saw five weeks since the pubs were told to close.  Have I missed going out to the pub? You bet. I miss the simple fact of deciding to "go for a pint".  I miss my Sunday sessions in the Tavern with my pals, the banter and just being there. And I miss cask conditioned beer of course.  But I don't believe in wearing a hair shirt.  I've been drinking beer at home. Given that on the whole weather has been fantastic, I've enjoyed a different kind of beer o'clock. Around five in the evening E and me have had a beer or two in the sunshine in our garden. Not every evening, but certainly most if the sun is still shining.  We have had to wear fleeces on the odd occasion and once, given the rather spiky wind that generally accompanies sunshine in the Grim North, we reinforced our outer apparel with blankets.  We have remarked, like everyone else, about the perfect blue skies, the absence of vapour trails and aircraft and enjoyed the birds singing. Not so much though the whirring sound of  wood pigeons, but you can't have everything, can you?

It has been good to sit in our unusually tidy garden and I have enjoyed the togetherness. It's just us, with the odd word here and there with a neighbour, but what do we drink? Well, for me, predominantly, it has been bottles of St Austell Proper Job.  Bottle conditioned, but with the tiniest of sediments, it has been ideal. At 5.5% it is a tad hefty, but it isn't over gassed and after two of them, I find that will do. E has been drinking German lager. Warsteiner for its bitterness, but sometimes Krombacher. Both well-made and easily available.

Normally if I'm in a supermarket, I pay little notice to the beer aisle. Naturally, from time to time, I do have a nose at what's around, but I don't study it in detail.  Now it is different and the first thing that strikes me, is how bloody cheap it is. My Proper Job is currently £1.49 for half a litre in Aldi, while I have discovered too, that 660ml bottles of decent German lager are now a thing. Who knew?  Not me for sure and at 3 for a fiver, it is certainly priced to go. Even with an accompanying bag of crisps-  or whatever - it is as cheap as chips to drink at home if you buy it from the supermarket and mostly, for most people, why on earth wouldn't you?

Now I know that it is good to support local breweries - and I do by buying my weekly treat of a 5 litre bag in the box of re-racked cask beer from Pictish Brewery in Rochdale. The lion's share of that gets supped every Friday afternoon and evening, with two or three pints for the next day. Served by handpump, there is a little wastage from the line, but it is worth it to support a local brewery and to get a cask conditioned pint. That, next to the people is what I miss most.

Reflecting on all this, one of the things that worries me, is that perhaps even more people than already do, will realise that there are huge savings to be made in drinking in the ease and comfort of their own homes.  I worry that drinkers will get used to it and used to the savings. The longer this goes on, the more the pub drinking habit is compromised, particularly if the return to pubs opening brings with it restrictive practices that make pub going a far different experience to that which they formerly enjoyed. Added to that is the cumulative effect on disposable income as the lockdown continues.

Habits once broken are difficult to re-establish.  Pub going as we know it will certainly be different for a time at least and maybe forever for some.

There are many other aspects of this to be explored. Hopefully I'll do that soon in future posts.

Other beers I have enjoyed at home are BrewDog Lost Lager, Thornbridge Jaipur (despite the daft little cans) and Sierra Nevada Summer Ale left over from last year. I've still got some interesting stash stuff to tackle too.