Drops Of Beer

Some recent beer experiences.

PLIP! Sainsbury's at Nine Elms. At the checkout. I'm wearing a Moonlight Brewing 'Death & Taxes' tee shirt. The old(ish) dear on the checkout notices the shirt and asks what it means. It's an American brewery, I inform her. "American? Have you had that Goose Green beer?" Would that be Goose Island, I venture. Her face lights up. "That's it! I don't usually like beer, but I like the flavour of that one!"

See? Craft beer isn't just for da kidz. And I bet my checkout operator didn't have to spend £13 for it. I don't know where the lady got hers - I haven't seen it in Sainsbury's, though Tesco's lists it, along with the other 2 members of the US Craft Trinity of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and Brooklyn Lager (I'm overlooking Blue Moon on purpose, before you comment). I wonder how long it will be before interesting UK beers in bottles start showing up in supermarkets, and yes, I'm also overlooking BrewDog. But they have the right idea, seems to me.

PLOP! Smart Phones. A lot of people have 'em. Not me - I'm habitually 3 or 4 generations behind the current technology. I'm That Bloke who bought a netbook. Anyway, Smart Phones are the thing. And the 'apps' that stamp your personality on them.

At The Harp at the weekend, somebody shows me a beer app. It's called YourRound, and it's a database that allows the drinker to search beers, pubs and even festivals. Say your favourite beer is Dark Star APA. You can search your locale to see who is selling it. Or you can check in at your local to see what they have. The app relies on brewers and pubs to sign up and keep the database current, but Binnie's son Alan was enthusiastic about it being quick and simple for staff to change the listing at the pub when they change a barrel, and if a fast-turnover pub like The Harp can do it...

You also get tasting notes and info on the brewery. I believe other apps are available that do similar things, and it seemed a clever way to simplify finding the beer you want. And it would save the pub or bar having to take to social media every time they change their beers. I think the YourRound app is free to download at the moment.

PLAP! I'm not sure if anybody else picked up on this in the Independent in mid-June. Beer is on the verge of a breakthrough in India, with a tiny but fast-growing brewpub niche. Another sign of the global reach of craft beer? How long before they have tickers and spoogebeerians? Hopefully they're a long way from that.

PLOOP! The Mansion House licence application is up before the Lambeth Licensing Sub-Committee on 17th July. The application doesn't appear to have been modified, so they still seem to be asking for that 24/7 4am closing.

Boggle Sips The Kool-Aid...

I'd been meaning to get along and have a beer at Brewdog Camden so, on a sultry afternoon, I made my way over to boho Camden Town to check it out.

The place was deliciously air-conditioned as I walked in, with a few small groups of lunchtime hipsters dotted about, and a customer at the bar chatting to the barmaid. The place is branded top to bottom, and a small TV plays video of the zany BD antics on a loop on a fridge behind the bar. Not unlike one of Orwell's telescreens. Some beer books are dotted about for the customers to peruse, and there are board games.

The barmaid broke off from her chat to introduce me to the Brewdog Experience, which goes along the lines of, have you been here before, have you had Brewdog beers, etc. I hadn't and I had, so we got on with getting a pint. She was knowledgeable about the state of play with the beers, and open about who was brewing what these days - I opted for some Meantime-brewed Zeitgeist, a which seems to have given Meantime some problems. This pint was pretty good, maybe a bit hoppier than I remember.

I took my beer and plopped down on a stool facing the telescreen. The bloke from the bar sat down a few stools away and got a conversation started. He's about my age, but decided fairly recently that he liked beer, and was just getting his feet wet around the London scene. He was toting a copy of 'Man Walks Into A Pub' and had picked up this week's freebie Shortlist magazine, containing an article by Peter Brown (?) on the rise of craft beer. His particular interest seemed to be in the broadening of the gastro offering in 'craft beer bars' to include proper gelato, so he'd been going around to try and generate discussions with small pubcos and bar operators. Despite his years (a few above the age range Emma Cole at Craft Brighton identifies in the Shortlist piece, thank you very much), he was enthusiastic as a kid about what he was discovering.

He departed and I had another beer, this time a black IPA called Libertine. Single-hopped with Simcoe, it showed off the hop nicely, but the beer lacked a bit of complexity. I'd have liked that hop in an IPA. Sums up Brewdog's beers to me, they just stop short of being very good. The bar, though, was a pleasant place to chill out with a couple of their beers. Staff friendly and helpful, and they know their stuff, and the food got the thumbs-up for value and quality from my erstwhile drinking companion.

I suppose the thing is, with the pleasing expansion of 'craft beer bars' around London, the Brewdog brand is the USP here. I imagine I could have gone to the Crown & Anchor in Brixton Road, or Craft in Clerkenwell, and encountered similarly knowledgeable and enthusiastic staff, but there's no doubting Brewdog's cult-like appeal to a section of beer drinkers. I'd be happy enough to shut out the irritating cacophony that occasionally issues forth from Fraserburgh and come back here to drink more of their beer.

It's also handily-placed for the so-called 214 Bus Crawl, a route which will take you from the Bull at Highgate, to the Southampton Arms, past Camden Brewing in Prince Of Wales Road, and by this place on its way to Liverpool Street.

I walked out of the place and back into the stultifying heat.

They tell me the second London bar will be in Shoreditch.

Who Killed Bambi?

At 1910 hours on 30 January, in his response to Melissa Cole's criticism of his views on the unfriendly British brewing scene as published in the beer book authored by Matt Allyn and Greg (Stone CEO) Koch, James Watt from Brewdog followed up some initial comments and an exchange with Kristy McCready of Molson Coors and Sharps head brewer Stuart Howe, thus:

I would rather quit beer than work for an evil multinational, faceless, generic corporation pedalling insipid liquid cardboard like MC.

Good luck with that. However, you should realise, that by working for them, you have zero craft beer credibility whatsoever. That must suck. I would almost be sorry for you if you were not so mean about BrewDog. Jealous? probably.

Still I guess for some people being paid well and comfortable beats putting absolutely everything on the line for something they believe in.

Oh and Mr Howe, as for the fact that we don't make great beer, how many World Beer Cup Gold Medals do you have? We have 2. Are you on the ratebeer top 100 list? Thought not. And we also don't work for Satan.

"Craft beer credibility"? Eh? What's that? James appears to know, and so presumably there's a list somewhere at Brewdog. If you want to know if you're credible, write to James, c/o 'Craft Beer', 15 Credibility Street.

Or maybe you shouldn't ask him. As sometimes happens, you turn over a few rocks, and things look different. Like the fact that under their old distribution deal in the US, their beers were distributed around New York by the same distributor as Budweiser's. Not the one brewed by cool and plucky Czechs, the other one. The evil, multinational, faceless, generic corporate one. These days Brewdog in the US is handled by Anchor Brewers & Distillers, but for all I know, they're still using AB-I's distributors. How many 'credibility points' would that cost them? If Molson Coors is Satan, what is AB-I? Come to that, what about the Big Four supermarkets? Are they on the credibility radar?

I know this whole idea of what 'craft beer' is bamboozles and annoys beer lovers as parts of the blogosphere struggle with trying to define it. But really, 'credibility'? We might as well just call it all beer and find something else shiny to look at. It really does smack of a bunch of indie kids comparing bands. Does being recognised by the ticker fanboys of Ratebeer and Beer Advocate mean anything? Maybe James can foresee the day when the fanboys turn on Brewdog and accuse them of selling out by becoming too big and popular. Somehow right now, they're pulling off a clever sleight-of-hand by making themselves seem like the small guy being picked on. Or maybe there's something to the idea that they're not all so cool and confident as they make out. I dunno. But in the future I might think twice about using craft beer as a term if there's some kind of unsavoury point-scoring baggage sitting behind it.

How Not To Grow Your Business, pt. 94

Say you were looking to diversify your pub's offer. Say you approach a supplier to get some new beers on the bar. Would you do it this way..?

Hi we own a pub here in XXXXXXXX, and would like to know who's Dick you need to suck to get a fucking keg of your beer.

I can confirm this was not the work of our own beloved Rabid Bar Fly. I also imagine Dredgie will be tutting over the poor grammar. I am reasonably confident that the pub won't be getting any beer from that supplier.

Boggle Goes West: Russian River etc.

Take a look at the pic above. One of these is from a Sonoma County winery, the other is from Russian River. Which is which?

As mentioned in an earlier post, local provenance is big here. Sonoma is one of the largest agriculturally-active counties in the US, but the most obvious activity is wine-making, with around 300 wineries producing in a dozen American Viticultural Areas. But beer is here, too, with Moonlight, Bear Republic and Lagunitas well-known alongside Russian River, who take wine barrels for ageing of their highly-regarded sour beers from local wineries. Evidence of this part of California's past links to be beer can be found from the tasting rooms of the Russian Hill winery, where three hop kilns sit amidst the rows of vines.

My mate Rap, as well as being an oenophile, loves his beer, and he's friends with Natalie & Vinnie at RRBC, so it's off to sunday brunch then a quick look around the production brewery.

Vinnie Cilurzo, King Of Beers; wine at Bottle Barn - they spelt my name wrong; is THIS Sid Boggle?

I visited the production brewery in late 2008, and it's changed a lot since then. There's extra fermenters in the main part of the brewhouse, while the separate area for the sour beers has an extra tank too. Huge pallet racks line the walls near the loading area, and cages define the interior much more than a few years back. They've taken extra space to set up climate-controlled barrel and bottle storage, as well.

We get to look inside the Aladdin's cave of the vintage bottle store, and there's some planning for the future. A beautifully-appointed tasting room is being created, with all the timber for shelves and the bar coming from a salvaged wine tun. That future requires some change to Californian law, so nothing will happen anytime soon, according to Vinnie, but they want to be prepared.Aladdin's Cave; funky kegs - look away Kevin...; hullo, hullo...

Soon we're heading back to the Bay Area, dodging heavy rain showers which freshen the air and leave it full of eucalyptus as we drive past small groves of the trees. A quick stop at Marin Brewing for a so-so pint of Mt. Tam Pale Ale (too sweet), then back to Oakland where Mr & Mrs Snake join us for a vertical tasting of RRBC Supplication. Batch 1 is past it now, says Vinnie, so we have 2,3, 4 and 6 to sample. The latter two are fermented slightly differently to earlier vintages, and are a bit too young to be developing any funky notes, but the 2 and 3 are full-on. Fantastic in the mouth, still retaining their sour cherry fruit notes. Supremely drinkable. I wonder whether the beers would experience the sort of 'sine wave' John Keeling at Fuller's sometimes describes to demonstrate how his Vintage Ale changes from year to year...

That's the final part of this series. Not enough days, too much beer for somebody who only drinks for a few hours a week, and the joy of enjoying good beer with good company. Let's do this again, soon.

Boggle Goes West: Santa Rosa

After watching Man City win the FA Cup, and full of coffee jitters and beans on toast, Rap and I head out for a visit to Santa Rosa, home to my favourite US brewer, Russian River. There's a hint of rain as we head over the Richmond Bridge into Marin County. We aren't going the direct route up Highway 101, instead we've got a couple of stops to make, which is a good job given the condition of my bladder.

First stop is the spa resort town of Calistoga. Sitting at the top of the Napa Valley, this place is famous for its hot springs and mud baths, though it also has a history as a mining town. It has a long main street and walkable downtown, and we're heading into it for a pint at the Calistoga Inn, a hotel and restaurant with a brewery. I have their English Porter, a pleasant interpretation of a classic London porter with some liquorice detectable. Rap is on the seasonal Oatmeal Stout. There are some early diners and a few other people at the bar, but it feels nicely chilled out, and its a good way to start the trip.

Our next call is at Ridge Winery. I don't do wine. Culturally, socio-economically, I don't understand it. Coming from a country whose wine tradition was, until recently, Concorde 'British' wine (read all about it here), and whose earliest wine experiences were drinking something called EEC 'tafelwein', I've never felt it was 'my' drink. But, Rap is an oenophile, he knows these Sonoma County producers and can converse knowledgeably on all aspects of wine production, terroir, vintage development and all that.

That's all over my head, but I can see how much easier wine is to come to when you're surrounded by it. It's as if the wine culture which has grown in these valleys is absorbed by osmosis. Or maybe wine isn't seen as shorthand for some kind of lifestyle choice. Maybe these people don't drink wine to make a statement. Whatever.

Ridge Winery are having their Spring Release Celebration at their Lytton Springs Estate. There are half a dozen reds being tasted including their exclusive Monte Bello. As Monty Python once noted, "this is not a wine for drinking. This is a wine for laying down and avoiding." Or something like that. The 2007 will set you back $145. I'm into some Syrah, which is warming, a little spicy and full of plums.

Looking at rows of vines stretching out along the undulating landscape, a scene repeated all over Sonoma County as you drive about, sipping wine, is all too mellow. It's beautiful country, all right. And this a county full of producers - food, wine, beer - and they all talk and share. More on that later...

We make our way over to Bear Republic in Healdsburg, where I become Code Name: O'Boggle. I'm sipping the house pilsner while sitting next to a couple from Chicago on their 20th anniversary surprise trip and we get talking, like you do. As usual, I get the accent thing. The guy can't work it out so I tell him I'm Irish. He's delighted, as his background is also Irish. They're going to a big Irish pub in Santa Rosa, maybe we'll see them later...

We head over that way ourselves, and our first stop in a pub called the Toad In The Hole. Very US interpretation of English, very quirky. It's a quick pint and then on to Flavor.

The weather has turned and it's now raining, but the place is packed with family groups and people out for a good Saturday night. Flavor is a bistro whose proposition is local provenance. It's also where you can get half a dozen Moonlight beers on tap, so we settle in at the bar for a pint. Later, we come back to eat. I take on a pizza and lose. Half of it winds up being my breakfast on Sunday, thanks to a microwave oven in the hotel room.

In between Flavor, we hit Russian River. It's packed. A popular band is playing, it's been the Boonville Festival weekend. We find a space at the end of the bar and sup a couple of Eruditions. This is a saison fermented with a yeast strain from Thiriez in France. There's no herbiage added as an adjunct and the result is a clean-drinking golden ale. We put a couple of those away before heading back to Flavor for some dinner. On the morrow, we are to meet with Natalie and Vinnie Cilurzo...

Humourless Corporate Bastards

"Do a piece" said Rabidbarfly Glyn Roberts. He's highlighting the spat between global drinks monolith Diageo and Lovibonds Brewery of Henley, over the use of the number 69. Seems Diageo think that drinkers will somehow be confused if they see Lovibonds 69 IPA, and think that in fact, they are consuming Diageo's VAT 69 'brand' Scotch whisky. I'd be inclined to credit people with more sense, but I guess Diageo's lawyers might be on their uppers - never hurts to 'earn' a fee. Or maybe they've gone a while without threatening a much smaller business with trip to court, or agreement to change their 'branding'.

Whatever, it seems that Diageo's shysters missed their deadline to file suit, so subject to any appeal, Lovibonds may be free to pursue their own business growth without spurious and spiteful harassment from some miserable corporation.

That isn't the case for tiny Welsh Artisan Brewing Co, though. They've been operating since 2008, brewing a range of German-style beers in a small premises in Cardiff. Simon Doherty, the Aussie who set the place up, decided to trademark his beers, and ran afoul of the regulation which lumps beer and soft drinks in the same category. The application roused the ire of PepsiCo, who own a brand of juices originally from the US, called Naked Juice. They've decided that 'Barenaked' is close enough to threaten their brand and objected to the application, even though Simon's beers are only available either from the brewery, or at a few outlets in Cardiff, while Naked Juice appears to be on sale in the UK (as of September '07) in places like Waitrose, Starbucks and Whole Foods.

Simon has tried to clarify his application relates to beer and merchandise, but Poppsy Co won''t back down. There's a very clear and cold analysis of the situation here, but really, to me it's nonsensical, and just another example of a giant corporation flexing its muscles to get its way. Poppsy Co probably spends more on one Superbowl ad than Artisan has probably spent in brewing beer since their launch. I don't know how much they put behind Naked in the UK - perhaps they think a bit of free publicity generated by their objecting wouldn't hurt. That sort of thing can backfire.

Don't Poppsy Co credit the consumer with any sense? There's no attempt to pass off Barenaked Beer as anything other than what it is. The beer isn't likely to be appearing in the same markets as Naked Juice anytime soon. And what about Twickenham Brewing's Naked Ladies beer? That name is much closer to the juices? And what about the estate of William Burroughs? Surely The Naked Lunch might mislead the reader over wholesome fruit juice? And then perhaps Diageo could make sure Sham 69 can't get back together again - old punks might get confused.

I remember in the 80's, the Comsat Angels getting the same treatment from another bunch of miserable bastards, who made them change their name in the US to the CS Angels, in case music lovers thought somehow their spiky new-wave stylee was anything to do with global telecommunications.

You know, sometimes there's the letter of the law (and neither of these cases has been before the beak yet, so perhaps common sense prevails anyway), and there's the moral high ground, and both of these bullied brewers occupy that right now. Who's for a boycott campaign? I'll bring the music - it'll be Waiting For A Miracle...

Elitist? Exclusive?

I see that Zak Avery has followed Adrian Tierney-Jones in writing positively about the Meantime College Beer Club in return for a bottle of their first beer. A loyal reader (I think there's one of them) might recall I asked who this club was for a while back, offering as it does some kind of colour-supplement lifestyle proposition as part of the package.

I still don't know, but am interested in any views about where something like this sits in the current elitism debates that have occupied the likes of Zak, Tandleman, Phil at Oh Good Ale and, across the pond, Stan Hieronymous. For sure it is, as Zak notes, "exclusive" at 350 notes for an annual membership, but is it the same thing as "elitist". Phil posits that money affords opportunity, it does make a difference. Elite, then?

As an aside, I see Zak got bottle 74 out of 100 of the RIS Meantime brewed as their first CBC beer. I assume they haven't had all 500 memberships taken up, or the series would have to run to an edition of 1,000 bottles. A cynic might suggest a bit of below-the-line advertorial from a couple of respected industry writers might move things along. I wonder if there are any spoogebeerian consortia in the membership list? I can't imagine they'd want to miss out on such rare spooge...

From The Spambox

I don't get too much spam as a result of writing this blog. The occasional request to publish feeds from trade recruitment companies, or some PR trying to generate some excitement over a beer-naming competition for Butlins. I expect the 'opinion-formers' of our community are pestered more. Still, the odd interesting email turns up. I fished a couple of missives out of the spam box this week which I thought I'd share.

First was a request from a character called Uncle Wilco, who introduced himself thus:

Hello I follow you on the interwebs and read your beer stuff (but I am different from the other nutters)

Hullo, I thought, makes a change from claims that the contents of the email will increase traffic and help me monetize. This guy runs what I'd call a beer porn site called beercupboard.com, but I've encountered him before in his guise of garden shed enthusiast, when I posted this pic of Frank Sidebottom on flickr. He runs a site called Readers' Sheds, so definitely not your usual nutter... anyhow, seems he wants to do for beer what he's done for sheds, and he's signed up such luminaries as The Boy Dredge and Zak Avery to reveal all, so watch out for my dirty little beer secrets being revealed alongside theirs.

The other email was from Meanatime, announcing their College Beer Club. This was trailed earlier this year, and expressions of interest invited from 'aficionados' to see if the limited subscription of 500 memberships would be taken up. Interestingly, at the beginning of the week, my source 'Deep Pint' texted me to enquire rhetorically, whether I knew how many members there were. I assume there weren't any because the club hadn't formally launched, but if you know different, drop me a line.

My initial thought was, who is this for? £350 for 12 months is a lot, even if the core offer of 24 bottles of exclusive Meantime spooge means access to beer nobody else will drink. Is that a good thing? Peter Haydon, who wrote out to the blogerati, proudly exclaims that

When you join the College Beer Club, you are not just buying beer you are buying a first class ticket on a journey of discovery

He goes on to describe some of the other benefits, including:

...exclusive brewery tours, brewmaster’s dinners, tutored tastings, and a range of exclusive events and offers with Club’s affiliate organisations including, the Courtauld Institute of Art, the Sir John Soane Museum, Class Magazine and 86 St James.

Class Magazine? 86 St James? Really, I mean, who IS this Club for?

As a mate of mine said only this Thursday, it's only beer.

CAMRA's Enemy Within?

The ripples from Pete Brown's recent reflections on draught beer dispense have widened and observers such as Rabid Barfly, Zythophile and Barm have entered the debate.

Zythophile contextualises the CAMRA viewpoint, and to me that's quite important, since CAMRA has defined the debate for many years with a general tendency to define cask beer both by what it is, and by what it's not, which was explicit in their raison d'etre as a campaigning body.

But times change, and so do markets and technology, and memberships. Over time CAMRA seems to have made itself a hostage to fortune over their strict definition of what keg beer is - see the opening paragraph here. And today many of the new wave of brewers who produce excellent and award-winning cask beer are also displaying an encouraging open-mindedness about kegging some of their beer using new technologies. Attendees at The Rake's recent South-West Beer Fest would have noted how much good beer was available on keg, some from brewers who retain a commitment to casking their beer. How does CAMRA's orthodoxy adapt to deal with this?

Then we have the huge but largely passive group of new members signed up over the past few years. The numbers give CAMRA significant clout, but the membership seem largely distanced from the politics and agenda-setting. And now the organisation is proposing to centralise control of subscriptions in order to manage funds for campaigning. Campaigning for or against what? Full pints? Pub closures? Like some other bloggers, I'd like to see some work on promoting good cellarmanship, not just printing an advertorial of the latest Cask Marque joiners and leavers. Judging from my recent local experience, in some areas you need to buy your pint from a tied house to ensure it's in good form. Or perhaps CAMRA see that as SIBA's job? Or do they already do it via GBG updates? I dunno.

Keg beer won't go away. CAMRA itself hasn't been averse to selling it at GBBF. And encouragement and availability of foreign beers at official fests could be said to have fanned the flames that has created the market that UK-based keg brewers are keen to take a share of. There's also been much said about CAMRA's ageing activist base. How and whether those people can be replaced will be something the organisation will have to address in the near future, or face gaps in its coverage. But another threat to their effectiveness or relevance is clinging to 70's attitudes in the 21st Century. It will be interesting to see how 'fit for purpose' they think they are when it comes to picking apart the bones of their current review.

Where's The Beer?

Greene King has launched a series of ads for press and TV, following a survey they commissioned asking punters what they thought made up the 'proper pub'.

I saw these two in yesterday's Observer...














There will be a series of six of these ads, picking up some of the popular responses from the survey. I could only find these two online, so I'm guessing the campaign will be refreshed by releasing the others through the duration of the campaign. I believe one deals with beer gardens.

The question I have for Greene King right now is: Where's The Beer? Shouldn't one of those glasses on the table in front of the settle, be a pint glass? You brew the stuff, don't you want to sell it in your pubs?

Pre-GBBF Publicity

Today's Independent has a nice feature on US craft beer. Not so nice for British brewing, which they cast slightly more unfavourably than I think is the case, and I think their information on domestic market share for craft beer is a bit out of date (I have a feeling share is more around 7-8%). Still, a good read and should get the juices flowing for next week.

Glyn Roberts, AKA Rabid Barfly and still in denial about being a celebrity brewer, also gets a nice pic and plug.

Birthday Cake

I'm straying into Jay Brooks' territory, but I couldn't resist sharing this picture...


(pic courtesy of David Rapoport)

Vinnie Cilurzo, genius brewer at Russian River Brewing Company, happy birthday!

International Brewers Day

Apparently, yesterday was International Brewers Day.

No, me neither...

Clone Beers

A local spoogebeerian recently sidled up to me and asked if I'd been to Brew Wharf lately. Brew Wharf is/was a joint venture beer-themed restaurant near Vinopolis in Borough which opened in 2005 with its own 5-barrel plant inside the premises.

I hadn't, though I was aware that the brewing plant, which had suffered several false dawns since test brewing commenced in the Autumn of 2005, was now turning out some drinkable and well-regarded beers. The spoogebeerian told me that the current brewer, Phil Lowry, had brewed a clone of RRBC's Blind Pig IPA.

Spot the clone...

I chewed this over. Cloning of craft beer isn't unusual. The large number of homebrewing clubs in the USA are a vast repository of recipes belonging to commercial brewers, which they use to attempt their own versions. However, I believe it's rare for anybody to commercially brew clones. In the end I didn't make the trip, but Matt Wickham from the Evening Star did, pronouncing the beer as very good, and he would know since he spends a week a year drinking the real thing locally around SF and Sonoma County.

For me, I'm curious and a bit split down the middle. Not too many drinkers here would know Blind Pig, so they'll be judging Brew Wharf's on its own merits. But, is it right to use another commercial brewer's recipe in this way? The name of the beer, Hopfather, is also, I believe the name of a different RRBC beer. I'm pleased that somebody is at last making a go of the Brew Wharf plant. I can remember when they were test-brewing and sold (bloody SOLD!) some very sub-par batches. But part of me thinks that using the recipe in this way might be encroaching onto thin ice. Or is there no harm when the original Blind Pig isn't available outside the US?

Wenlock Arms In Developers' Crosshairs?

There's a lot of scuttlebutt doing the rounds about the Wenlock Arms.

Story goes that property developers are once again interested in acquiring the site, and that an offer in excess of a million beer tokens has been put before the owners. We await developments (no pun intended...)

Hard (K)not(t) To Like These...

See what I did there?

So, as I write, The Rake in Borough Market is hosting an evening of beers brewed by David Bailey, lately a publican and award-winning blogger but now turning his hand to larger-scale brewing as Hardknott Brewing. Glyn Roberts at The Rake had approached David with an offer to feature his beers and lo, it came to pass...

I popped along at kick-off to sample the precious pong and hopefully say 'hullo' to Mrs & Mrs Hardknott. As I arrived, Glyn had arrayed the beers across his three beer engines, with cellar runs available for the fourth. Dave and Ann had supplied Continuum, Cool Fusion, Dark Energy and Infra Red in cask, while Aether Blaec and Granite were available in bottles.

I quickly ran through the cask offerings in half-pints to see what I liked. The sensation of the early evening is Cool Fusion, a 4.4% golden ale with ginger and chili. The ticker contingent had settled on this and were enthusing about it with the rest of the gathering. Ginger ales might be the hipster sup du jour, but this isn't your Crabbies. This is subtle, a spicy nose and vibrant refreshing mouthfeel, the ginger not overpowering, and a long finish when the chili announces itself. Some resiny notes in there as well.

The Dark Energy Stout is 4.9%, a concoction from the mad scientist's lab, with a complex grain bill and generous hopping. I'm a fan of Storm King stout from Victory Brewing in Downingtown, PA, and a mention of astringency in dark beers had Dave musing on earlier versions of Dark Energy where this characteristic was more noticeable. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing, but I say go for it! A big earthy nose with a suggestion of red fruit (raspberries, I thought), the hops dancing all over the palate and a long roasty finish with hints of dark chocolate. A complex and very drinkable stout.

The Infra Red IPA at 6.2% was ruby, bright and inviting. Cascade on the nose, a warming viscous mouthfeel and the Centennial hops arrive late to provide a slow and lazy mouthful. An insidious IPA, this one. No hop beast getting in your face, more tapping you on the shoulder asking if you'd mind kindly stepping outside for a little chat.

Dave brought along a couple of them Northern sparklers, so we were treated to some experimentation with the Cool Fusion and Dark Energy. I've never had an opinion of beers dispensed through a sparkler, though as a Southerner there's been a natural suspicion that the beer will come out as flat as a pancake with a 3-inch head. However, a trip to Yorkshire last year immediately disabused me of those prejudices. 23 pubs in eight towns in two and a half days will clarify your thinking about some things.

There were also snifters of the bottled beers: Aether Blaec, the 8% stout aged in whisky casks, and Granite, the 10.4% barley wine. Ann pronounced herself a fan of the latter, and I would concur. Dave brewed it by boiling for 24 hours to reduce the wort, then dry-hopped during maturation. I don't think he meant it, but this beer is suggestive of some of the better American seasonal barleywines: not boozy, some balancing bitterness from the hops but reminiscent of a port wine. Try and get hold of a SPH Old Herb, or an Anchor Old Foghorn and see for yourself.

The Aether is an obvious cousin of the Dark Energy, but there's vanilla on the nose and it's warming and not overly phenolic or boozy as some barrel-aged beers can be.

My time tonight was short but sweet. Dave is an enthusiastic and curious brewer, and he admits he's still learning. His beer names are playful and give away his love of the sciences, and his branding is distinctive and modern. He has plans for some of his beers, and I saw he and Burnley Dave from the Wenlock Arms deep in conversation before I left.

Look these beers out, and enjoy...

And Then There Was... Glastonwick!

Yes, Glastonwick. Not the "rite-of-passage" fest in Wiltshire, but an annual beer, music, poetry and more beer festival held in Adur. This year was the 15th to be held.

I started attending in 2004, when the festival was hosted at Shoreham Airport, separated from international airspace by a three feet high fence. Since 2007, the event has been hosted at Church Farm, hard by the settlement of Coombe, a working farm with a converted barn and space for camping, and the festival continues to grow and thrive.

Punk-era legend Attila The Stockbroker takes care of the entertainment, putting together an eclectic mix of performers who play over the three days, while real-ale legend Alex Hall sorts out the beer. This year would be my first trip down since the first year at Church Farm, and I was looking forward to a cracking list of new beer, including a 4.6% California Common (i.e. steam beer) style beer from Knops Beer Company, and beers from Liverpool One, Art Brew, Raw (where Alex had their Gyle 1, 2 AND 3 beers on) and of course, a delicious selection of ales from event supporter Dark Star.

On Saturday, I walked in at lunchtime to the angry folk stylings of Steve Gribbin, followed by a band of apparent 15-year-olds called Gecko. A couple of their songs reminded me a little of Orange Juice and (worryingly) Del Amitri, which I'm prepared to allow as contemporaries of the "Postcard Sound" bands. They mixed up some reggae and made a generally pleasing racket.

Highlight was Michael Horovitz, one of Britain's original beat poets, who, I think it's fair to say, captivated his audience, including your writer. Coming, as I do, from the N Molesworth School of appreciation, which is that poetry is gurly and uterly wet, and owning but two tomes of verse (one of which is Spike Milligan's 101 Best & Only Limericks), I wasn't ready for a performance in voices, but that's what he did, and it was quite brilliant, and now I own another volume of prose.

Michael Horovitz

My visit is all too short, so at 4:30 it's time to head back to the train. The organisers take care of almost everything, so there's a vintage bus to take us from the farm to Shoreham station, only I leave with Matt Wickham of The Evening Star and we stop off for a quick pint and chat about ESP and remote viewing at Dark Star's Shoreham establishment, The Duke Of Wellington.

A lovely festival. The music and performance is thoughtful and provocative, the stillages a showcase for the creativity and skill of British craft brewers.

Alex Hall draws a bead on the bass player of punk band Eastfield
"it's gonna be a turkey shoot..."

Since it's a beer festival, and since Cooking Lager was looking for stereotypes to tick for his own attendance at a fest this weekend, I offer this:

Note the tankard AND a drinking horn slung expertly across the back. I watched him order a pint poured into the plastic pint container (remember, a working farm, so no glass), which he then poured into his tankard, and THEN into the horn. Beat that, Cookie.

One more thing: Alex Hall, real-ale legend? Then why haven't you heard of him? Well, if you've been to New York in the past decade and had a pint on cask in one of their better bars, chances are you'd have Alex to thank for that. He's influenced bar owners to offer it, and persuaded brewers to brew it. He runs cask fests and produces publications promoting good beer. He's had warning letters from AmBev asking him not to insult Stella Artois. Better beer publications are noticing the cask scene in New York, and credit goes to Alex for nurturing it. That's legendary to me.

These Two Belgians Walk Into A Pub...

The pub in question being The Harp in Chandos Place. I'm propping the bar up, supping a pint or several of Dark Star APA. The place is emptying of a load of Millwall heading to Wembley for their annual promotion disappointment ritual, when this elderly and distinguished-looking geezer pitches up and asks for a pint and a half of beer.

As he orders, he gestures towards my half-empty glass. The barman asks if he would like a pint and a half of APA. The man appears not to comprehend, pointing again at my glass and saying (and I quote), "I'd like a pint and a half of beer, as such...".

Karl The Barman is puzzled, asks if he prefers dark or light beer (which draws no response), but drops a taster into a glass for Our Belgian Friend. As he sips, his wife arrives at the bar. She takes charge, sipping the nectar (APA is delicious) but then leaning over the bar to inform Karl thus:

"We are Belgian. Do you have any Stella?"

That whole country loses its place in the Top Three for this... To paraphrase Bob Hoskins in The Long Good Friday... "Belgium? I shit 'em!"

Beer Sects (1): The Hipster Douchebag

Now, you might think I spend all my time despising tickers, hoarders and traders. No. Oh no. They angry up my blood at one end of the craft beer spectrum, namely the spooge end. There's another odd sub-grouping who drink at the other end, and whose existence made me curious. There it would have remained but for an event a couple of years ago.

I'm talking about "Hipsters", almost always usually paired with the pejorative, "Douchebag". Learn more here. In New York, a large enclave can be found in the emerging neighbourhood of Williamsburg, in Brooklyn.

I recall visiting NYC in Spring 2005, when a topic of conversation was the rising popularity of old-time lite beers like Pabst Blue Ribbon and Schlitz(1). Turned out that the NYC hipsters had turned on to their dad's beers, decided they were "ironic" and "relevant", and consequently demand was through the roof. Amusing, but so long as good beer bars weren't being swamped by these weird kids stopping me from sampling the best of American Craft, a footnote.

Fast-forward to November the same year. I was heading back to the city after a trip to Southampton Publick House on Long Island. I had spooge to share with some mates, and we agreed to meet at Barcade, then a newish bar in Williamsburg notable for its banks of retro arcade games like Frogger and Galaxian. Ironic enough to be on the Friday night HD pub crawl. The place was empty when I got there, but soon started to fill with identikit lads, all with Morrissey specs, black Peter Pan haircuts, knitwear and black drainpipe jeans. The women they were squiring were straight out of the HD catalogue. All looked the same. All sounded the same, All drinking bloody PBR. I was fascinated.

My mates and I moved on to Spuyten Duyvil, an excellent watering-hole some 20 minutes away from Barcade. A few beers, some food and chat, and around about midnight, it was time to finish off. I turned from my seated position at the bar, to see Robert Smith from the Cure in deep conversation with some girl. I shook my mate Scott by the arm to check. It wasn't, but I swear, if Robert Smith had decided to sell insurance instead of crafting melancholy guitar-pop, this guy was him. I couldn't hold it in any more, and started to laugh. The Hipster Douchebags all eyed me up. Why is that fat English guy laughing? What's so funny? Doesn't he KNOW how shit life is?

And how do I know that's what they're thinking? Because in 2008, I had to spend some time with one. I didn't think I'd find one in Park Slope, an area of Brooklyn becoming very upscale with young professional couples and their spawn. My friend Pete had another mate called Mark Bello over to demonstrate pizza-making. Mark makes sublime pizza in the best city for pizza in the world. I got there quite late due to an attack of "Split Thy Brooklyn Skull IX"(2) and messed-up weekend subway. On arrival, there were some new faces, including this very weird kid. Half my age, dressed in drainpipe trews, a buttoned-up shirt, narrow tie and yellow cardigan. Think Andy Warhol in High School. Having declined with commendable ennui, an invitation to spin pizza dough around and look silly, he then gave forth with the view that, at 23, his life was over. I couldn't help it - I'd been drinking strong ale all day. I looked at him, snorted and laughed like a drain.

Anyway, ramble over. This trip down memory lane was sparked by the following, for which I thank Tri-State beer geek legend Loren Verkovod...
More mocking toons here.

Footnote (1): I'm currently reading "Ambitious Brew", Maureen Ogle's account of the rise of US brewing. A good read if you want the backstory to the growth of A-B, Pabst etc.
Footnote (2): If you're viewing the pics of Split Thy Skull, the old guy looking like Captain Birdseye is called Jimmy. He's reputed to sell PBR around the Five Boroughs, and he was the first New Yorker I spoke to about beer. That's a whole different story...