Why I'm Not a Member of CAMRA

As I've pointed out before, the real ale rhetoric and mythology emanating from CAMRA and its members invokes the image of the "working man" (a namby-pambyism for the "working class") in its efforts to tug at the heart-strings and gain sentimental special-case treatment.

If real ale is "traditionally the drink of the working man" then surely my hometown of Barrow-in-Furness is swimming in it. The town has been declared "the most working-class place in the UK" by the website locallife.co.uk.

I hate to be the one to shatter the working man/real ale myth: I can report the most working-class town in the UK is a swamp of alcopops, smoothflow, megalager and megacider.

Casual perusal of town centre pubs (see picture) on a Friday or Saturday night reveals the "working man" drinking smoothflow, megalager, megacider and alcopops. Sometimes, on special occasions, in the same glass with a shot of Blue Bols for added luminosity under the UV.

The Duke of Edinburgh Hotel, The Cross Keys and the Ambrose deserve honourable mentions for stubbornly persisting in attempting to sell a variety of cask ales despite indifference from the population of 70,000.

The Duke of Edinburgh opened its bar in November 2006 with eight handpumped lines. Their market research had shown that Barrow had far fewer real ale outlets than would be expected in a town of its size. As outsiders, from Lancaster, their conclusion was "lots of uncatered-for demand, we'll do lots of real ale, we'll be on a winner." It was not to be. Although, after a slow start, the bar is now popular as it brings a much-needed touch of city-bar atmosphere to the town, sales of real-ale are disappointing. Sales of the house lager and bottles of Pinot Grigio drive the business. Admirably, there is a no-alcopops rule despite rampant demand.

What's going on?

It's not metaphysical. It's not beyond understanding. As a habitual chatter-with-anybody beer-loving pub-goer I've been working out who drinks what and why for twenty years.

Here's my explanation: Poor people – let’s avoid euphemisms – don't like to be choosy. In the culture of places like Barrow, being choosy is frowned upon. Being discriminating is being a snob – and being a snob is a very bad thing. To be choosy necessitates rejecting something on offer. In a culture defined by hard graft and low pay, rejecting something (particularly food, and including drinks) for the subjective reason of taste is very bad form. Children are brought up with the mealtime fillip "you make sure you finish that: your dad's been hard at work all week to pay for that.” Swirling and sniffing your beer is met with “get it down your neck, you ponce.” I know.

My late grandmother always defended her use of cheap margarine rather than butter with the stern declaration "it tastes just the same". She always bought the cheapest, instant coffee because "it all comes from the same factory anyway". Having been born the youngest of twelve in what can only be described as a slum, she devoted her life to convincing herself that expenditure for flavour was wasteful – because there are no different flavours. My mother is not quite as bad, but almost.

Although the paradox persists that tastier beer is frequently cheaper than bland beer, it is bland predictable beer that most prefer. Seeking out beer for the sole reason of flavour is wrong, even immoral.

Messages such as those about craftsmanship, food miles, sustainability, wholesomeness, tradition and locality are largely lost on this demographic. Cajoling the “working man” into a reverence for heritage and tradition is to force him to look to the past, but the past is a bleak place. The criteria for choosing beer are, as they have always been, the four Ps – peers, palatability, predictability and price.

Part of the CAMRA romanticised belief system is that in a golden age of cask ale, the “working man” was savouring his pint of cask ale and caring deeply and knowledgeably about it. In CAMRA’s Marxist perspective, this simple affordable pleasure has been rudely stolen by exploitative mega-brewer fat-cat capitalists using brainwashing by marketing and advertising to sell over-priced industrialised swill to the lumpen masses. Swashbuckling CAMRA will overthrow this mendacious ruling class and reunite the grateful working man with his real ale! The phrase “real ale revolution” isn’t used in ignorance of the political connotation of the expression.

Suggested evidence for this alleged golden era is that the older working class generation often tells us – “we were choosy about our beer, we went to the pubs where it was good, and we were always on the lookout for a bad pint”. A presumption is made that seeking out a good pint demonstrates connoisseurship: it doesn’t. When more consistent keg beer arrived it lifted the burden of an irksome chore. Members of my extended family are still baffled by my preference for “poncey” cask ale while supping their vapid Boddingtons and Tetleys Smooth.

I bought my first pint at the age of fourteen in the Peacock Inn, Cavendish Street, Barrow-in-Furness. It was a Saturday lunchtime and the morning overtime shift workers from the shipyard filled the pub. I just asked for “a pint of bitter”; I think it was Tetley’s; I was just emulating my dad while trying not to be noticed. “I tried selling cask ale but gave up a year ago. The lads round here didn’t like the taste. They just stick with Carling and John Smiths,” the landlord told me recently. Nearby, the Blue Lamp, a Thwaites pub, sells no cask ale. It tried. It gave up.

I went to my first CAMRA beer festival when I was nineteen-year-old shipyard apprentice. I enjoyed some of the beer but I wasn’t inspired to join the organisation. I didn’t give it much thought at the time. But CAMRA hasn’t gone away and twenty-two years later I’ve finally worked out the big reason (there are others) why I haven’t felt motivated to join despite being a keen cask ale drinker:

CAMRA patronises the working class by implying they can’t make an informed decision.

I know that many CAMRA members will vocally proclaim their working-classness as if that counters my argument and demonstrates the working classness of cask ale but it must be remembered they are a small minority. If all CAMRA members accounted for all real ale consumed, they would be getting through 19.5 pints each, every day (figures from The Intelligent Choice: The Definitive guide to the Cask Ale Market 2008-9 and CAMRA’s current membership of 94,585). If anything, CAMRA's Marxist rhetoric has only proved useful as recruitment tool for the organisation. I don't believe it has been remotely useful in boosting the interests of craft brewers at the expense of macro-brewers. All it does is fuel the dedication of the most vocal and active of CAMRA's membership.

I look forward to your comments (but I’m ducking for cover.)

This Week I have Mainly Been Drinking...

Blonde Ale by Morrisey Fox, bottled, from Tesco.

....oops sorry, I nodded off thinking about it.

If you're the kind of person who has the full set of Men Behaving Badly DVDs (in order) on your shelf you'll like it. Some nice melon-like sweeteness but otherwise not worth wasting liver cells on.

Not Proper Beer?

Don't misunderstand this post. Please be reassured that I am not a "prison's just a holiday camp" Daily Mail reader, although where I live I'm surrounded by them.

I spotted this story while googling the influence of wahabist values in the UK (I should get a life, I know).

"Devout Muslim sues Tesco for making him carry alcohol"

For me, as a beer-snob, this paragraph stood out:

"The tribunal was told Mr Ahmed also gave out 'mixed messages', at one stage suggesting he was allowed to handle Budweiser beer."

I can only conclude that, as it's not proper beer, devout Muslims maybe allowed to handle Budweiser. Maybe not.

Weird world.

Punch Taverns Hilarity

Have a look at Punch's attempt to get you to fork out for a tenancy.

"Pull yourself one of the best business opportunities you may ever see."

And 

"Do you have capital to invest?"

I think it also says "Are you a fool easily parted from your money? Click here," but I might have imagined that.

The Customer is Always Wrong - Even When He is Right

I stopped off at the Duke of York in Clerkenwell (around the corner from beer blogger Stonch's pub, the Gunmakers.) I was with two other committee members of the British Guild of Beer Writers. I mention this to suggest "we know what we're effing talking about." Allegedly.

I ordered three pints of Brakspear Bitter. The beer was distinctly warm (about 17C by my estimate) and noticably sour (I like gueuze/lambic but there's a time and a place.) I returned to the bar and made a polite and factual complaint. Body language told me I was probably talking to the boss. The same body language issued the message "I'll bite your arm off." Her response was the classic "it's room temperature: it's supposed to be like that."

Resisting the temptation to do a "I'll have you know..." act I maintained eye contact and restated my complaint. A long pause ensued and a sneering "I suppose you want something else" followed.

So the pub trade is in suffering? Well, in therapy-speak "change comes from within" – this would be a good place to start.

B.T.W thanks for the pic to Ewan-M on Flickr

Key words for positive knee-jerk purchasing decisions for the middle classes

The Sunday Times to day gave a little review to a new beer:

"Stinger Organic Ale. £1.89-£1.99, 500ml. Developed with Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall and brewed with organic nettles. Fresh, soft, delicious (selected Budgens, Threshers, badgerdirect.com)"

Bloody Nora! Organic nettles! For Christ's sake you dopes, they grow in hedges, they're weeds, they're always going to be organic. And they're free! (OK, I know it should probably be "organic beer with nettles")

A conversation overheard at Borough Market yesterday:

"Ooh, look Cressida, a new stall - 'Lenny's Hand-Caught, Free-To-Roam, Locally-Sourced Rodents'. The new-season Sewer Rats are in stock ... so much more, you know ... ambrosial ... than the river rats we had round at Yolande and Giles's last week. Mmm, and only £267 per kg. They'll be wonderful after the biodynamic Kobe cockroach muse bouches."

"Oh yes Sebastian; and that foraged spatchcock badger she picked up outside the village was rather, erm ... proletarian ... don't you think? Let's not forget the Organic Nettle Beer. One wouldn't want to buy intensively-reared, factory-farmed, battery, chemically-sprayed, air-freighted, genetically-modified nettle beer, would one, even if it is Fair Trade? Mind you, Giles will never tell the difference."

"Oh, don't be too beastly about Giles, darling, he's having such a demanding time shafting those gauche banks that ordinary people put their piffling money in."

"Mmm, I never really understood why they bother with mortgages; don't they realise it's much cheaper to simply buy a house?"

etc. ad nauseum.

[b.t.w. the final line about mortgages is was genuinely and sincerely uttered by a real person, the rest is made up]

CAMRA's War on ... whatever.

Have a look here at Class War's list of links.

"We do not necessarily endorse all of the content on the sites below, but generally speaking they are all in some way related to our worldview."

Any beery organisation there you recognise?

This week I have been mainly drinking...

Eiken Artois.

Well, not exactly "mainly drinking": I picked up a heavily discounted three quarters of a four-pack from paupers' corner in Tesco.

I'm not one of these real ale drinkers (I don't even use the expression "real ale" if I can possibly avoid it) who bangs on about "the war against lager". I love lager!

I should clarify, I can't stand the dismal stuff like Fosters and its mass-market rivals that clog our pubs. I like the fancy proper imported stuff that hides modestly on the lower supermarket shelves. The stuff I get to drink on too-infrequent trips across the channel.

Here's the Eiken Artois blurb – "Named from the Flemish word for Oak, Eiken Artois is a deliciously refreshing yet full flavoured oak aged lager brewed in Belgium to 4.6% ABV. Brewed with carefully selected aroma hops, this unique beer is then oak aged to create a fruity, hoppy lager with subtle floral notes and hints of vanilla."

That sounds quite interesting. It seems InBev wants to capture a bit of the kudos the craft sector gets for flavour enhancing techniques. But hang on, Artois is firmly mass-market, and mass-market means bland. 

The mouthfeel was thin and good-but-remote aroma (like looking the wrong way through binoculars), coupled with the merest hint of oxidisation, my first-impressions weren't good. Not horrible enough to make me put it down though.

Further lingering sips revealed some interesting mid-palate flavours: caramel, vanilla, and the flavour of the inside of Crunchie Bars that I can't remember the name of. These flavours I often find particularly in reputable Czech lagers (Gambrinus springs to mind) so that 's a very good sign.

Unfortunately it suffered badly from the binoculars-backwards effect. I can imagine good brewers thinking "finally, we can do something tasty" but their bosses countering "don't you dare doing something too tasty, we don't want to alienate core brand-loyal customers."

The launch of this Artois sub-brand is a classic example of parent-brand-on-the-decline-syndrome. Stella Artois (the Manchester United of beer) sales are past their peak (good!) and InBev are desperately trying to retain customers, in this instance the ones who may be ditching Stella in favour of tastier craft beers.

So, does Eiken Artois offer anything for the connoisseur? Well, put it this way: if your non-beer-savvy mate gets some in for the footy, don't write it off, it's not unlpeasant.

Evangelise!

Sometimes it alarms how something totally unrelated can get my mind drifting back to beer. So it was yesterday when this story was in the news. It was a slow news day so theatrical talking heads were lined up to fill slots on broadcast news across the networks.

What have well-spoken middle-class spongers scrounging money off the government (i.e. the tax payer) got to do with beer?

Use of the language of the evangelist. 

Repeatedly the theatricals droned on about "getting more people interested in theatre". Noticably, none of them ventured to explain what the intrinsic worth of this exercise is. Declaring the truth that "it has the dual benefit of flattering our egos and subsidising our hobbies" would destroy the venture. But I digress.

This "we need to get more people into" rhetoric is what interests me. It's all over the place.

All over the country new students will be assailed by people experiencing this urge. Freshers' Fairs exist only for people to indulge this impulse: not the freshers themselves but society members evangelising for Dungeon&Dragons, Bridge, Cave-Diving, hockey, parachuting, tiddly-winks and so on. Religions, of course, have the evangelising urge explicitly built into their belief systems.

The recent Olympics was a festival of sports talking-heads banging on about "getting more people involved in [insert name of obscure sport]."

CAMRA is a big source of the rhetoric associated with this urge. Think about it – how many times have you heard words about "getting more people interested in real ale"? Often it is manifested as "we've got persuade more people to join CAMRA" (to which the subtext is "CAMRA is an intrinsically good thing")

Here's an example from a CAMRA press release: "CAMRA’s new Cyclops leaflet, and more breweries supporting the scheme, will help to increase the consumer awareness of this initiative and lead to more people understanding and drinking real ale.”

I do it myself. I will bend anyone's ear on the things that  give me pleasure – good beer, Miles Davis's electric period '68-'75, exposing of the vacuity of religion, Brazilian music, proper peanuts in their shells, vinyl records, Macintosh computers ... and many more. In 2000 I put my money where my mouth was (and still is) by opening a specialist beer bar.

This urge to evangelise about what gives us pleasure seems universal. We've all got it. But what could it be? Human behavioural instinct is defined by evolution. This urge to promote what gives us pleasure, I believe, is exactly the same as the urge the caveman has to share the location of the bison herd or the bush bearing berries. The same urge the bee has to get back to the hive and waggle its bum. At its core is the urge to survive – to feed yourself and those who share some of your genes. In a tribal society everyone is likely to share your genes, your chance of survival and the "life" of your genes is enhanced. In our modern society we aren't necessarily genetically related to those around us, and food is no longer a rarity that needs to be grabbed at every opportunity. Our genes don't know that: they're still telling us "shout from the roof-top about what satisfies you, share it with your tribe".

Remember that. You'll be spotting "we've got to get more people involved" rhetoric all over the place from now on. Welcome to my world!

[p.s. Apologies to creationists .... Oh No! what am I saying? What I meant was: Get your hands off our schools and stay out of the White House you bunch of medievalist  nutjobs.]

Pickled Bloody Partridge

My heart sinks a little further every time a brewer gives a beer a painfully twee and parochial name – especially an alliterative one.

I really don't care if it's "a traditional farmer's wife's recipe for partridge braised in ale".

Thank you, Hall & Woodhouse, you've really made my day with that name. That'll really get the kids talking.

Pickled bloody Partridge ... I ask you.

This week I have mainly been drinking...

... Harviestoun Belgian White at the Black Dog Inn at Dalton-in-Furness, my favourite pub in my South Cumbria homelands.

Belgian white (wheat) beers tend to be flavoured with orange zest and coriander seed. In HBW there was the merest hint of orangeyness, and quite noticeable (to me anyway; those whose ears I bent about it were nonplussed) corianderness hanging on a backbone of wheaty English bitterness.

Genuine Belgies may have not recognised the beer as an attempted recreation of their own style but that would be missing the point. The point is to extend the ambit of typical cask conditioned ale flavours in a very British-pub context. That it achieved with aplomb.

This weekend the pub has had a special fish and seafood menu and I pointed out to boss James that he'd chosen to stock a great beer to go with the special menu. He responded with a baffled "ugh?". The Black Dog does tremendous food and beer but poncey metropolitan notions of sniffing, swirling and matching beer and food are, as yet, alien. Indeed engaging in such endeavours would have much of the clientele questioning one's manliness and qualifications for drinking beer in the first place.

Unfortunately I hadn't booked to dine and had to make do with tantalising sights and smells. Fortunately I had the beer.

(B.t.w. I've invented a name for a shade of paint – "Langoustine Serendipity". Do you think Dulux will buy it off me?)

They've got my blood boiling again!

My brother has just brought my attention to this piece in the Publican - "CAMRA calls for minimum pricing"

OK,  we've established that cheap mass-produced beer in the supermarkets is playing a role in  deterring people from going to the pub. So far, so good.

To get people back in the pubs how about getting the government to create minimum prices for supermarket beer? Hmm.

Isn't that a bit bloody rich coming from a self-proclaimed "consumer organisation" which encourages people to join with rabble-rousing rhetoric like "join us if you're concerned about the ever-rising price of beer"? (I haven't got a specific example to hand a.t.m but we've all seen it).

Now let me think about it for a nano-second ... ah, now I see: CAMRA wants prices increases for the beer it doesn't like (consumed by the majority); It wants lower prices for the beer it likes (a minority interest).

A consumer organisation my arse! A self-interest group looking for special case treatment by pretending to have everyone's best interest at heart. 

Sheer bloody hypocracy. 

Excuse me while I wipe up the beer I've just spluttered on my keyboard.

[CAMRA press release here]

Supermarket Prices

In a daze, traipsing round Tesco I was thinking about supermarkets' role in Britain's drunken hooliganity. I couldn't crack that problem and my thoughts moved onto the brands "craft" versus "mass" in the supermarkets.

Certainly, it's alarming that price competition has led mass-produced booze to be sold cheaper than water and had the knock-on effect of persuading people to drink anywhere but the controlled environment of the pub, and the pub trade is suffering as a consequence. But there may be another more positive effect.

The beers most affected by this rampant price cutting are the mass-produced ones – the common enemy of craft brewers. Look further in the supermarkets and you find rows of craft beers (remember, I choose not to use the term "real ale"), their prices unaffected by mass-market price competition. Ask around and you hear from SIBA, CAMRA and the brewers themselves that bottle sales are on the up – despite being the expensive option.

Here we have a dichotomy: 

In the off-trade craft beers are priced higher than mass-produced beers.

In the on-trade craft beers are priced lower than mass-produced beers.

It might be a febrile fantasy, but I believe the price-crash of mass produced beers could be a blessing in disguise for craft brewers. "How?" I hear you asking, "isn't it just going to encourage people away from craft beer on to cheap stuff?"

No. As I've already mentioned, bottled craft beers are performing well despite being the pricey beer option.

I believe the phenomenon is this – on the whole, people sensibly understand "poor quality things tend to be cheap – good quality things tend to be expensive". For many years people have taken on face value clever advertising such as "Stella Artois: reassuringly expensive", thinking "it's pricier, obviously it's very good, and I like to consume good things, that's what I'll buy". (I don't mean to single out Stella; I'm just using "Stella" as short-hand for mass-produced-not-very-interesting-beer.)

Now though, things have changed. Everyone uses supermarkets and sees the price of Stella considerably lower than the craft beers. What's the message? – "Stella is inferior to the bottles in the obscure aisle at the back of the supermarket" and a bit of "Stella is the beer favoured by price-conscious al-fresco drinkers".

OK, every single beer drinker isn't going to ditch their fave big brand because it's gone cheap, plenty will clap their hands in glee at the rock-bottom prices. Some won't. Some will be thinking "I like good stuff, and a higher price is a signifier of quality, I'll have to investigate the intruiging bottled stuff I usually ignore while the wife's looking at wine". How many is anyone's guess. I reckon enough people will ditch "mass" and move to "craft" for the sector to experience a good long-term boost. This maybe is what is already happening. This could be a bigger effect than thirty-something years of "campaigning" by you-know-who.

In the pub trade business is very tight with closures rampant. That straightforward message is evident from, for instance, the British Beer and Pub Association, a body which wishes the world to think is the ONLY voice of brewers and pub owners. In fact, if you check its membership list, it largely represents the big players – and in doing so seeks to downplay the efforts of small independents. Travel around the highroads and by-roads of the country and what do you see? - "Pub Lease For Sale" signs. It's the big dull McDonaldsised chains who are in most obvious decline and what do they sell most of? - McDonaldsised mass-produced beer. Freehouses aren't finding current economics such a bed of roses at the moment but they do seem, out of all pubs, the ones most capable of weathering the storm. What do most of them sell most of? - Craft beer.

(B.T.W. Here's an interesting piece on the Stella brand which is currently riddling its own feet with bullets)

Innovation at Beer Festival!

Here you see last week's Ulverston Beer Festival with its featured entertainment "Live Spreadsheet Updating".

Yes folks, Microsoft Excel made a guest appearance at a humble Beer Festival!

Beautifully British amateur inventiveness at its best. 

"The venue's got a big screen and a video projector – click! – I know; if I spend the festival sitting upstairs in the techie room away from the action I can plug in my laptop and display a constantly updated list of available beers! And as a bonus people may admire my Excel technique (including formulas)!"

Peculiarly, punters seemed to be ignoring the ever-updating spreadsheet and using the old-fashioned luddite techniques of looking in the programme, and looking and asking at the bar.

B.T.W. Ulverston Brewer's new beer "Flying Elephants", a 3.8% pale hoppy thirst-quencher, was rather good and could well be the beer that puts them on a wider map. 

Grass-roots CAMRA views on uk.food+drink.real-ale

I urge you to browse and participate in uk.food+drink.real-ale.

This Usenet newsgroup has been around since 1997 and I first stumbled across it soon after. Originally I thought "great, like-minded people having a well-informed on-going discussion on my favourite subject". I was wrong.

My early posts were usually straightforward exchanges of information such as responses to question like "can anyone recommend a good pub in central London?"

Time passed and I kept noticing things I found unsettling. Here are some examples: "the war against lager"; "conspiracy against real-ale"; and all sorts of ill-informed rants about "rip-offs", "greedy pubcos"; drinkers of mass-produced beers as "victims of advertising" or "shallow" and "easily led"; state subsidies and support for the nationalisation of breweries; disparaging comments about craft brewing in other countries (particularly the US) because it's not "Real-ale". I could go on.

Inevitably, as someone not shy of having strong opinions, I became embroiled in umpteen arguments. I realised that uk.food+drink.real-ale is a valuable resource charting the views of CAMRA grass-roots members.

I got tired of posting a couple of years ago but I still browse the newsgroup to check on what the latest "thinking" is in the world of grass-roots CAMRA membership.

Last week for instance I spotted this – "It's very sad. There seem to be people who rejoice in the fact that beer is becoming an up-market, high priced, trendy drink rather than
the working man's thirst quencher it used to be."

This is a very confused view. There are several points jostling for space here:

1. Use of the romantic image of "the working man" as Trojan Horse for a desire for cheap beer. This is a minefield the unwary have stumbled through many times on UKFDRA. A common trajectory for the debate is "real-ale is cheaper than Stella etc. because it isn't a rip-off". My view is that RA should bloody well be more expensive than Carling etc simply because it's a craft product with higher associated costs than the mass-market. Rolls-Royces cost more than Vauxhalls for that same reason. The only rip-off is the slim margins for their beers that RA brewers have to accept - an unfortunate position perpetuated by many in CAMRA. And, I ask you, just who is drinking all the Carling and Stella if it isn't the "working man"?

2. "beer is becoming an up-market, high priced, trendy drink" - Obviously the poster regards trendiness as an intrinsically bad thing. But is beer becoming a "trendy drink"? I don't know where to start on this complicated subject. The UK market is changing. Particularly in our city centres we see imported craft beers being consumed in "bars" rather than pubs, predominantly by more affluent twenty and thirty-somethings. They could be drinking our domestic craft beer "real-ale" but it doesn't have a huge appeal for them. Real-ale is still predominantly an interest of men over forty. Could it be that the poster falls in the latter category and feels little empathy with the members of the former? As for "up-market, high priced", isn't this a rather crude way of expressing what most RA brewers would like to see?

SIBA Journal Issue 70 Summer 2008

SIBA, the Society of Independent Brewers is getting its knickers in a twist on the question of its members "do you think there should be a limit to the size of brewery that can join SIBA?"

This needs a little explanation. The question is really "should the regional 'family' brewers be allowed to join SIBA?"

The Independent Family Brewers of Britain (IFBB) can be found here.

SIBA was created in 1980 by brewers too small to join the Brewers' Society. Years have passed and SIBA's membership is now in the hundreds and the organisation has the ear of the media and the government (probably more so than the IFBB.)

The "Family Brewers" are now knocking on the door of SIBA and SIBA can't make up its mind if it should let them in. This is a bit rich of the Family Brewers considering the contempt they had for SIBA in its early days.

The YES faction (yes to the capacity limit, that is) is put by Dave Maggs of West Berkshire Brewery:

"Their [the regional/family brewers] agenda is totally different to that of the small independents. Most have tied estates, which they naturally want to protect, whereas we are constantly looking for access to market. Some are PLCs and as such are a contradiction to a Society of Independent Brewers. A PLC by nature cannot be independent and will be driven by the demands if its shareholders, who are not all committed to our cause [of locally-produced craft beer]. PLCs will buy up pubs – tied or free – thus reducing our market options. I have certainly lost a great deal of outlets to my nearest PLC brewer. It's not that I hold a grudge, I just don't see how we can be in the same organisation."

Mr Maggs has hit the nail on the head – the family/regionals are owners of tied estates largely impenetrable to the products of independent local brewers. That the family/regionals also brew cask ales is an irrelevence. Many also brew foul mass-market licensed or contracted beers: coupled with their tied estates I believe they are part of the problem faced by small independent breweries. Welcoming them into SIBA would introduce internal conflicts like introducing lions to the society of gazelles.

The NO faction is represented by Carola Brown of Ballards, long-standing SIBA activist (and a founder member if I recall corrrectly):

"Our major competitors in the distant days of the 'Red Barrel' real ale desert were the regional brewers. But they were also the only brewers who kept real ale alive at all when the nationals didn't want to. Now they have abandoned the 'them and us' mentality, and recognise that SIBA is the industry organisation that has taken up the quality beer torch and not only kept the flame alive, but made it burn more and more brightly! I have my doubts about admitting to our ranks brewers brewers who keep their estates closed to guest beers, whilst selling into what remains of the free trade; but will excluding them change that situation?"

This strikes me as sentimentality-driven hogwash – "But they were also the only brewers who kept real ale alive at all when the nationals didn't want to." So what? It's 2008 now, not 1975 (also something CAMRA would do well to note.)

FWIW, as far as I can see access to market is the biggest single issue facing small brewers, beyond red-tape and all other issues. They have craft beer in common with the family/regionals but are inhibited by the existence of tied estates, brewing and-nonbrewing. 

My instinct would be to tell the family brewers to sod off. My more considered response would be a change to SIBA's constitution to say all pubs or estates owned by SIBA members should be commercially fully open (not just DDS) to all fellow members, including the family/regionals This would curb the unfair advantage of owning estates and encourage the growth of small brewers – that's the point of SIBA isn't it?

Would they still want to join? I doubt it.

Interesting Concept

Here's an interesting concept for a pub – the en-suite water-feature beer garden.

Sublime beer and food matching moment

Bearing in that beer and food matching is quite the thing these days my tastebuds are always alert to combinations that have the 2+2=5 effect: the whole taste experience is greater than the sum of the parts.

I'd met a couple of friends at the Harp (by Charing Cross Police station just along from the Chandos).

For the past 2 or 3 years this has been my favourite West End pub - the theme is "proper pub" and a high turnover of cask ale guarantees a decent pint.

The bar offered Harvey's Bitter, a Mordue (can't remember which), TT's Landlord and another that escapes me completely.

We ordered our beers and some nibbles. 

Where most salty snacks dutifully do their job of satisfying humankind's universal base craving for salt, fat and carbohydrate, Smith's Scampi Fries possess gustatory qualities above the norm.

In an impromptu tasting session our panel of three instantly recognised that Harvey's Sussex Best Bitter and Smith's Scampi Fries are made for each other. 

Put that in your books Oliver/Beckett/Novak et al!

(The Mordue was excellent but the Landord was past its best b.t.w.)

HOT NEWS:  In my "research" for this entry I've discovered that arch-rival Golden Wonder Scampi and Lemon Nik Naks are back on the market.  Let the good times roll!

Image Problem

Real ale has an image problem.

A mantra of CAMRA is "we want real ale to appeal more to young people and women", or words to that effect.

Ask younger people and women their perceptions of real ale and what do we hear?

"It's for old men"
"It's warm and heavy"

"It's flat"
"It's got bits in"
"it's very strong"

"It's old-fashioned"

We could go on.

None of these perceptions is terribly accurate. These comments represent the popular image of real ale. (B.T.W. Contrary to another view common among camra types, non-real ale drinkers are aware of the existence of real ale)

When the subject of image comes up in the presence of camra sheep there is generally a loud chorus of "IT'S WHAT'S IN THE GLASS THAT MATTERS".

At this point camra sheep will bleat about people who are more concerned with image then they as being "shallow", "easily led" and "victims of advertising".

This is a head-in-the-sand attitude and does no favours whatsoever to the real ale cause. The immutable truth is that image is of huge importance.

Quit the patronising and ask yourself how you can contribute to improving the image (i.e. marketability) of real ale!

[CAMRA research published 2002:

* Over one fifth (22%) of women don't drink real cask ale because it isn't promoted to them
* 17% of women think it is "old fashioned"
* 29% don't try it because their friends don't drink it
* 17% think it will make them fat!
* Only 23% of women have tried real ale in a pub
* 19% of women would try real cask ale if it were served in more stylish and fashionable glasses]

Cyclops - Why?

I notice that the world of real ale often demonstrates an inability to appreciate what the "outside world" may think of it.

Real ale is already saddled with an unappealing "brand image" - bushy beards, woolly jumpers, sandals - need we go on? - yet CAMRA is willing to add to the roster of inelegent and unappealing imagery.

For example: the promotion of "Cyclops" (Ho, ho, ho it's only a larf innit?) - a system of noting an individual beer's colour and appearance, aroma and flavour invented by Everards (if I recall correctly).

Entirely needlessly, the visual representation of this system is an eye, a nose, a mouth.

NOTE - it's one eye. WHY, when most of us have two?

The choice has been made in order to giver it a jokey name - "Cyclops". Although the legend of Cyclops is not known for having any direct relevance to beer, it has been decided to plonk it into real ale imagery.

It wouldn't be so bad if they'd actually employed a decent graphic designer to create the Cyclops image rather than the inept "design" obviously knocked up in a word processor using clip-art.

I can fully understand the need to reduce the amount of guesswork in the selection of a beer by those of us not gifted with encyclopedic knowledge and photographic memory but is this the best they can do?

Classic pub-talk overheard

Historically, my favourite example of pub-talk is " you can cut glass underwater with a pair of scissors. My mate's done it he has."

But I fear it's been knocked off the number one spot by this example eavesdropped in the pub last night: "there's a mountain in the Himalayas that's taller than Everest, it's never been climbed: the locals don't want the outside world to know about it."

Ok, I'm prepared to be corrected by geographers: let's wait and see.

Mordue

A friend just emailed me with this: "I’ve just heard that Mordue has gone into receivership."

News story link here.

If this does mean the end of Mordue Brewery I'll be very sad. I believe Mordue IPA is Britain's best beer bearing the designation "IPA" and it won my personal Pint-of-the-Year award for 2006.

Fortunately I feel that any worries about the demise of Mordue are premature (at least, I hope so.) All being well, an investor will step in to clear their debts in return for a share of the company.

Perhaps an investor would be the force to help them capitalise on the national recognition they gained from winning  CAMRA's C.B.O.B. way back in 1997 by bottling their beer. It's long overdue.

This week I have mainly been drinking...

Red Bull Terrier (4.8%) by Barngates Brewery of Ambleside, Cumbria. 

I've been drinking it at the Black Dog Inn, Dalton-in-Furness, Cumbria which is a tremendous pub despite the dodgy carpet and formica bar-top. The food is "gastro" without ever using that dread word.

We found Red bull Terrier to be very dark red and possessed of a hugely complex flavour. Spicy, fruity flavours brought to mind the orangey Green & Blacks Mayan Gold chocolate, but without the chocolate, if you see what I mean. I've no idea if the beer actually contains any spices and I don't actually care, it works beautifully whatever it is.

The beer was in super good condition, sublimely beautiful, literally a conversation stopper. We sipped in beaming silence, revelling in our good fortune. 

We all have a personal "Pint of the Year" competition going on in our heads – this was beyond even that; a pint of the decade.

This pint (four actually) reminded me why I care about beer.

I'm not the only one...

I found this excellent essay sometime last year on a now defunct website called pubcurmudgeon.com and I think it's worth preserving. I don't necessarily totally agree with all that is said but much of it is spot-on.

[Apologies to the pubcurmudgeon if I've trodden on your copyright toes - please email me.]

"Only Here for the Beer?

What has CAMRA achieved in its lifetime, and what does the future hold?

Success or Failure?

CAMRA – the Campaign for Real Ale – was founded in 1971, and in the first ten years of its existence it succeeded in making the major breweries do an abrupt U-turn of policy, and won the accolade of “the most successful consumer movement in Europe”. The initial flush of success inevitably brought teething troubles, but CAMRA overcame these to become a professional and well-respected organisation which now has a record membership, an annual turnover running into seven figures and a substantial paid staff. We are on the point of seeing the implementation of something for which CAMRA has long campaigned, namely flexible licensing hours, and in the past few years it has scored an arguably even more significant victory in winning the introduction of a sliding scale of beer duty which has transformed the prospect of Britain’s smaller brewers, who are now thriving as never before.

On the face of it, this sounds like an impressive record of success. Yet there is less real ale drunk in Britain now than at any time during CAMRA’s existence, and certainly far fewer pubs serving it than there were fifteen years ago, although possibly still more than in 1971. We are also seeing pubs, both urban and rural, closing at an alarming rate, leaving vast swathes of the country as pub deserts. And there is a wave of concern about the effects of excessive drinking which leaves the licensed trade feeling extremely exposed to new legislative restrictions. So should CAMRA’s record, over the years, be regarded as one of success or failure?

A False Premise?

The first point that needs to be made is that CAMRA’s whole campaign is based on something of a false premise. In the early 1970s, the definition of “real ale” as cask-conditioned beer was a convenient shorthand for separating good from bad draught ale in Britain. But the definition only relates to the means of storing and serving beer – it makes no reference whatsoever to brewing methods. It has never been the case that real ale was brewed from traditional materials in small craft breweries, while keg beer is made from chemicals in factories looking as though they should belong to ICI. It is perfectly possible to brew a poor-quality, bland real ale from inferior ingredients, and some brewers large and small have certainly succeeded in doing this over the years. It is equally possible to serve intrinsically high-quality beers in keg form; although this is less common now, in the past, many of the independent brewers, most notably Fullers, did this.

The “real ale” definition is of very limited relevance to beers in other countries with different brewing traditions. Lager beers, in particular, are stabilised by a lengthy maturation period, and so, even though they may be served unfiltered and unpasteurised, are not going to undergo a secondary fermentation in the serving vessel. In 1971, there were only a tiny handful of bottle-conditioned beers which were something of a hangover from a bygone age, and so CAMRA could give them a sort of equivalence with cask-conditioned draught without worrying too much about it. But bottle-conditioning provides no worthwhile benefit for beers of everyday strength, and has serious drawbacks in terms of quality control and ease of serving. There are also (unlike the situation with draught) many very high quality beers from independent brewers that are not bottle-conditioned. So CAMRA has erected a kind of shibboleth in saying that bottle-conditioned beers are in all circumstances much better than their brewery-conditioned equivalents, which doesn’t really reflect people’s day-to-day drinking experience.

Even now there are many CAMRA members who will refuse to drink anything that isn’t cask- or bottle-conditioned, or even recognise any worth in any such products. This seems to be a particularly blinkered viewpoint, especially since the definition is something that was drawn up as an expediency a generation ago, and is the kind of thing that gives the organisation its sometimes deserved reputation for pedantry and obscurantism.

Unexpected Outcomes

When CAMRA was first founded, its members would have had no idea what they might achieve, and probably regarded themselves as doing no more than fighting a doomed rearguard action in the face of the inevitable tide of “progress”. In their wildest dreams they would never have imagined that they would bring about such a reversal of policy from the major brewers, with real ale restored to thousands of pubs, and whole estates repainted in the traditional liveries of defunct breweries.

In many pubs, of course, this proved to be a short-lived phenomenon, but there has been another development which again would never been been foreseen in the early days of CAMRA, but which looks likely to be far longer lasting, namely the incredible growth of the micro-brewery sector. There are now over four hundred new breweries in the UK, producing beers across an enormous range of styles and flavours, some indifferent, to be sure, but very often of extremely high quality. Micro-breweries are also able to take more risks than their bigger brethren and to brew beers of more distinctive and even uncompromising character that would be not be suitable for a mass market. This has been accompanied by the rise of specialist beer pubs offering drinkers the chance to sample these beers, and it is hard to imagine the many beer festivals run by CAMRA being anywhere near as successful if all they had to offer was the regular products of the established brewers.

In terms of the overall beer market, the micro-breweries are insignificant, accounting for only about 2% of the beer drunk in the UK. It is unlikely that any executives of the major brewers have lost any sleep over them. But they have created an “alternative beer network” which means that the beer enthusiast can pursue his hobby without ever needing to touch any big brewery beers. The ultimate expression of this tendency is of course the “beer ticking” phenomenon (which, to be blunt, is just another anoraky hobby that has little to do with CAMRA or campaigning for real ale). But, in a more general sense, it means that those with an interest in beer no longer have to engage with the wider issues that CAMRA was originally formed to confront.

A Shot in the Foot?

When CAMRA has addressed wider world issues that go beyond encouraging an interest in beer, it has had a distinctly mixed record, and indeed it could be argued that sometimes it has poked its nose into inappropriate areas, whereas on others it has remained disappointingly silent. It has always seen itself as a “consumer movement” but arguably the interests of consumers of pubs in general may well be different to those who are enthusiasts for a particular product. Should CAMRA, for example, get involved in actively championing improved facilities for families in pubs, when many of its members might prefer to drink in an adult environment? I would say not.

An obvious area of consumer interest is of course full measures, something which CAMRA has consistently supported for many years. It cannot be denied that short measures of beer are endemic, and have got worse as the fashion for tight Yorkshire-style heads on beer spread across the country. But CAMRA has in effect shot itself in the foot on this issue. In the early days of CAMRA, probably at least a third of the real ale in the country was served into oversize glasses, thus ensuring full measures. However, the problem was that it was served using electric metered pumps. CAMRA has always championed handpumps as the preferred method of serving real ale, as they gave a clear symbol of its availability. But unfortunately, when electric meters were replaced by handpumps, inevitably the oversize glasses were replaced by brim measures. Despite this, many CAMRA branches over the years have actively encouraged pubs and breweries to install handpumps, even in the knowledge that it would set back the cause of full measures. The result is now that electric metered dispense is very rare – and so are oversize glasses. There is still a realistic chance of government action on full measures, but if CAMRA had taken up the cause when they were more widespread in pubs, and unequivocally championed the pubs that served them, without sneering at their second-rate dispense method, it might have had a better chance of bringing about a change in the law.

A much greater example of a campaign backfiring was that over the Beer Orders. CAMRA had for long demonised the “Big Six” breweries who held sway over the British beer market during the 1970s and 1980s. Despite the fact that most other industries are significantly more concentrated (compared with, say, food retailing, six companies combined holding an 80% market share suggests a situation of healthy competition), CAMRA and others managed to persuade the government of the day that this constituted a “complex monopoly” and that measures should be taken to curb it. This led to the Beer Orders, which stated that no company could have a beer tie in over 2,000 pubs, and that any tenants of companies owning over 2,000 pubs could have a guest cask beer. On the face of it, this may have sounded like a good deal for the consumer, but in practice what happened is that the major brewers over time disposed of their pub estates to separate pub companies (which were not bound by the Beer Orders), and eventually all except Scottish & Newcastle disposed of their brewing interests too.

The result has been a beer market now dominated by only four major brewers, not six, three of which are foreign-owned, and half the nation’s pubs now in the hands of faceless pub companies. The pub companies still exercise a tie over their tenants and leaseholders, but present a much more diffuse target for CAMRA to attack, particularly as they don’t tend to brand their outlets with their own name. It’s almost certain that the spread of pub companies has accelerated the removal of real ale from many pubs as a pub company does not have a vested interest in selling the products of a particular brewery. The situation now is much less competitive, and gives a worse deal to the consumer, than it was in the late 1980s before the Beer Orders. There can be little doubt that if the Big Six had been allowed to die a natural death we would now have more diversity and choice in the mainstream beer market. In fact, as there are now no companies to which the Beer Orders would apply, they were quietly scrapped in 2002.

Another key campaigning issue which goes beyond consumer interest to wider questions of alcohol policy is licensing hours reform, something that again CAMRA has always supported. In the 1980s CAMRA had considerable success on this front, with all-day opening being permitted from 1988, and most licensing districts abandoning 10.30 pm closing from Monday to Thursday and letting pubs open until 11 six days a week. However, the bigger issue of opening after 11 pm remained unaddressed.

The current Labour government has at last decided to do something about this, but it has combined it with a thoroughgoing revamp of the whole of licensing law which in particular involves transferring the responsibility for licensing from magistrates to local authorities. Although pubs will, subject to permission, be allowed to open after 11 pm, they will overall be subject to a much more expensive and bureaucratic form of regulation. The current concerns about “binge-drinking” are likely to further increase the costs and the level of control wielded by local authorities. Arguably the interests of the kind of traditional pubs CAMRA favours would have been better served by leaving the previous system alone, but simply allowing pubs to stay open until midnight on Fridays and Saturdays, and standardising Sunday hours with the rest of the week. Again CAMRA has campaigned for something that has turned out not to have quite the expected outcome.

Stay Silent or Speak Out?

CAMRA chose, however, to remain silent over what was undoubtedly by far the biggest threat to the British pub in its lifetime – the cut in the drink-driving limit which was proposed in the late 1990s, but fortunately not carried through. Obviously this is a sensitive issue on which any organisation must tread carefully if it does not wish to appear irresponsible, but CAMRA’s eagerness to wash its hands of it, and indeed to stifle discussion, was unseemly. Without declaring any kind of outright opposition, they could easily have provided members with resources to campaign on the issue, and made a submission to the government consultation regarding the potential effect on the pub trade – something on which they would be well qualified to speak. The fact that the cut was not implemented owes no thanks to CAMRA, and the organisation’s pointed silence on the issue will have left a sour taste in the mouths of many of its members.

But, in contrast, CAMRA has seen fit to set up a “Public Transport Campaign Group”. Now this doesn’t simply advise people how to reach pubs by public transport – which is entirely reasonable – but aims to promote public transport in general. Surely this is a political objective which, regardless of its rights or wrongs, is outside the objectives of CAMRA and, should be regarded as ultra vires.

Similar objections can be raised to CAMRA’s support for the “Sustainable Communities Bill” which has recently been put before Parliament. On the fact of it, this seems like entirely reasonable support for local enterprise, but when you look into it more deeply it is a piece of legislation that seeks to undermine the whole principle of increased local specialisation, and long-distance trade, which has underpinned the prosperity of the developed world for over two centuries. Is it necessarily a bad thing that people are enjoying beers brewed in California or Australia rather than at the end of their street? Many members will also feel distinctly uneasy about having such campaign groups as Friends of the Earth and Transport2000 as bedfellows.

One would hope that CAMRA never gets round to setting up a “Climate Change Campaign Group”!

An issue of general public policy where CAMRA does have a legitimate interest – and is to be congratulated for speaking out – is that of smoking. Whether smoking per se is dangerous, and whether it should be banned, restricted or taxed to death, is not really relevant to CAMRA. But it is a fact of life that many pub customers smoke, and any precipitate move to ban smoking in pubs would have a very serious effect on the licensed trade, as it has in Ireland. So CAMRA was quite right to say that, while it accepted that there would be further restrictions, the government’s proposals were ill thought-out and damaging, and that a compromise could and should be reached which would protect the interests of those who did not wish to be exposed to tobacco fumes, while still allowing smoking in designated areas within pubs. And, while there are obvious differences between the two issues, only those of the most unregenerate ostrich-like tendencies would deny that no parallels whatsoever can be drawn between the campaigns against tobacco and alcohol.

This leads on to the broader issue of alcohol policy. Of course CAMRA doesn’t exist to defend the interests of those who enjoy drinking Carling Black Label or Bacardi Breezers, but real ale cannot be completely divorced from the wider question of alcohol in society. We may have the highest levels of alcohol consumption and drunkenness for many years, but there is also (to some extent as a direct result) an increasingly negative view taken of alcohol in politics and the media. The idea that a “binge” consists of drinking eight or more units of alcohol in one session – that is, three pints of a premium beer – is the most obvious manifestation of that. CAMRA has always stood up for moderate drinking in a controlled environment, but there is a real danger that if it becomes generally accepted that responsible people don’t drink three pints in the pub (when not driving, of course), much of what it has fought for over the years will be at risk. Therefore I would suggest CAMRA needs to be considerably more vocal in defending the interests of the responsible drinker, and standing up for pubs as opposed to take-home consumption is a major part of that. In the future, the threat to real ale and pubs is likely to come increasingly from government action rather than from the major drinks companies.

Core Values

When it has campaigned on issues that are very close to its core values, CAMRA has in some cases been extremely successful. A prime example of this is its work on pub preservation. It quickly became apparent to CAMRA members in the early days that there was a very close link between real ale and traditional pub interiors, and both were at risk from the modernising tendencies of the major breweries. Many members would also have been interested in heritage and conservation through organisations such as the National Trust and railway and canal preservation groups. Through the creation of the “National Inventory” of historic pub interiors of architectural importance, and associated regional listings, CAMRA has done much to raise to profile of pub conservation, and has also been able to obtain listed building status for some pub interiors which has sometimes saved them from destruction. The place of pubs in the overall history of British architecture and design has also been made much more prominent, and pub owners’ refurbishment schemes are usually done much more sensitively than would have been the case thirty years ago.

In the past few years CAMRA has also scored a major and underrated achievement in gaining the introduction of Progressive Beer Duty, which allows a lower duty rate for small brewers. This has been extended to encompass the smaller regional brewers as well as micros. In general, the brewers have not used this to cut prices, but to expand their businesses and invest in new plant, thus giving them a firmer footing for long-term success. This will serve to underpin the vast increase in the choice and diversity of craft-brewed beer in the UK which has been one of CAMRA’s major achievements.

The Local Dimension

Of course an important part of CAMRA is the local branches and all the events they organise, in particular beer festivals. Branch activities form an important social network for many members, and in a lot of cases they’re not really interested in the wider campaigning side. I’m a life member of CAMRA and am involved in my local branch in a number of ways both socially and in organising things. I’m fortunate in that my branch has an active social calendar and in general contains people who have a sense of proportion and don’t take dogmatic stances. Although I am deeply sceptical about some of CAMRA’s wider campaigns, there’s little done by the local branch that isn’t entirely positive. There are one or two touchstone national issues over which I might conceivably consider resigning from CAMRA if it took a particular stance, but on balance I regard my membership as both enjoyable and making a worthwhile contribution to supporting and advancing things that matter to me – namely real beer and real pubs.

Stick to the Knitting

In conclusion, if we take the view that CAMRA has not managed to curb the power of the major breweries, increase the amount of real ale sold in Britain, or stem the tide of pub closures, then it must be judged a failure. Many of the campaigns it has mounted on wider issues have been damp squibs, or have spectacularly backfired. But, to my mind, its lasting achievement has been to greatly raise the profile of beer in the UK, and to encourage the creation a network of producers, outlets and consumers where beer is appreciated in a way that was scarcely imaginable in 1971. Real ale undeniably has to an extent become a niche product, but it occupies a large and thriving niche. And it is the positive promotion of real ale – in all its forms – and the establishments that sell it, that should form the core of its activities in the future. If that means CAMRA drawing in its horns a little, then that would be no bad thing."

Lightbulb-above-head moment

Reading "Critical Mass" by Philip Ball, which is about the analogies between physics and economics, society and a whole lot else has provided a lightbulb moment with respect to understanding CAMRA.

p313 of the paperback edition – "Capitalism's opponents, meanwhile, often portray, the free market as a system in which big fish inevitably swallow up small ones, leading to a homogeneous world of commerce dominated by a few major players".

Certainly, influential people in CAMRA may be described as opponents of capitalism and this outlook is strongly evident in the organisation's rhetoric.  

I believe this type of naive "opponents of capitalism" economic thinking is what leads CAMRA to its misguided support of the tie system. CAMRA is still mired in the battles of the nineteen-seventies - the regionals versus the (inter)nationals: Davids versus Goliaths, small fish versus big fish.

The Davids-v-Goliaths view of the beer market is a surrogate for the political beliefs of key CAMRA figures.

CAMRA defends the tie system because they see it as a key to the defence of the regionals (who are anti competitive chain owners themselves) versus the (inter)nationals.

The rest of the world has moved on. This overly-simplistic view of the beer market fails to pay heed to the views of the microbrewery sector in which brewers struggle to find outlets allowed to sell their beer i.e. pubs not straightjacketed by the tie system.

Today, CAMRA's energies ought to be directed at freeing the market from the deeply entrenched anti-competitive practices rather than promoting the thinly-veiled political obsessions of an influential clique.

(I would like to point out that I am not a bonkers right-wing radical free-market neo-con,  just a humble observer of, and participant in, the beer market who sees small brewers efforts and drinkers' choice inhibited by the tie system.)

This week I have been mainly drinking...

Sharp's Chalky's, Bite 6.8%, 330ml bottle.

Here's the blurb:

"The idea for Chalky's Bite came about as a challenge from Rick Stein to Sharp's Head Brewer Stuart Howe.

The task was to create a distinctly English beer with the character, individuality and quality to stand alongside the Belgian greats. 
The beer created is exceptional with a delicate flavour balance of three different hop varieties and wild Cornish fennel. With a totally natural process and a maturation period of over three months the beer is allowed ample time to develop a high level of carbonation, its own distinctive flavour and a beautiful light golden colour. 
Chalky's patience whilst attending the many development and sampling sessions at the Brewery is justifiably rewarded in the name."

As is all too common, the blurb tells us very little. What are the three hop varieties? I can't be the only person who would like to know. 

Whatever they are, the results are rather good. I am reminded of two legendary beers that just happen to be big favourites – Orval and Anchor Liberty Ale. Fortunately the fennel flavour isn't too obvious. I like fennel but I feel a beer with a big fennel flavour would be difficult enjoy too often. As it is, I'm picking up a couple of bottles every week from my local Booths supermarket.

I find it encouraging that a British brewer has produced a 6.9% beer in a 330ml bottle. If only there were more. The bulk of Britain's craft beers are 3.5 to 5%, many are great beers but for non-pub consumption I prefer less volume and more strength and hopefully, more flavour. An attractively branded bottle and a suitable glass add to the pleasure. More please.

Arrgghh! Stop, I can't take it any more! I'll give you the top-secret invasion plans! (Or: The Real Ale Name Problem)

We regularly hear the world of real ale claim it desires a) more drinkers who are young, b) more drinkers who are women (indeed, people in both categories, young women, seem the most elusive customer.)

I believe the prevailing fallacy within the world of real ale is "many people don't know real ale exists: if more people knew of its existence, more people would drink it." 

In my experience practically all of the drinking population is aware of real ale but significant numbers find themselves alienated by several characteristics of the genre.

A recurrent theme is the alienation provided by the stupid names. 

To illustrate the problem I have made a list of beer names which jumped out at me from the pages of the CAMRA's 2008 Good Beer Guide.

Prepare to cringe.

[WARNING: clunking wordplays, forced alliteration, bad puns, feeble jokes and swords and sorcery follow]

Ale Mary

Baz's Bonce Blower

Bearly Literate

Bashful Beaver

Bumble Hole Bitter

Codrington Codger

Collie Wobbles

Crafty Shag

Croak & Stagger

Dizzy Dick

Doff Cocker

Dog Daze

Dozey Dawg

Druid's Fluid

Duck'n'Disorderly

'erbert

Ewe-phoria

Ewe-reek-a

Fine Fettle

Flashman's Clout

Friar Duck

Friggin in the Riggin

Frog Bog

Fuggle-Dee-Dum

Funky Monkey

Gartley Nagger

Gobble

Goldihops

Grumpling

Guest Fest

Guzzler

Hadda's Headbanger

Hairy Helmet

Haunted Hen

Headcracker

Hobgoblin

Honey Bunny

Hoptimism

Humpty Dumpty's Downfall

Hung Drawn 'n' Portered

Jock's Trap

Keel Over

Keystone Hops

Knocker Up

Kornish Nektar

Kripple Dick

Lancashire & Yorkshire Aleway

Land of Hop and Glory

Leper Squint

Lickerish Stout

Love Muscle

Mad Monk

Milk of Amnesia

Mucky Duck

Mutley's Revenge

Mutts Nuts

Naughty Ferrets

Naughty Nell's

Nessies Monster Mash

Nether Underestimate a Blonde

No-Eye Deer

Norfolk Nog

Nowtsa Matter

Numpty Bitter

Oggy Vog

Old(e) - 81 examples including:

Old Comfort

Old Disreputable

Old Dog

Old Fecker

Old Growler

Old Groyne

Old Jock

Old Knobbley

Old Slapper

Old Slug

Old Speckled Hen

Old Stoatwobbler

Old Stumpy

Old Tosser

Olde Codger

One for the Toad

One-Der-Ful Wheat

Over and Stout

Pail Ail

Pain in the Glass

Palmer's Poison

Parker's Porter

Parson's Pledge

Pawn Star

Penny's Porter

Peploe's Tipple

Pheasant Plucker

Piddle in the Dark/Hole/Snow/Wind

Pigswill

Pinch Noggin'

Piston Bitter / Brew

Plucking Pheasant

Poacher's Dick/Pocket/Pride/Trail

Polly's Folly

Pot Wallop

Pressed Rat and Warthog

Pucks Folly

Pure Ubu

Puritan's Porter

Qu'offa's

Quacker Jack

Rack and Ruin

Rail Ale

Rambers Ruin

Rampant Gryphon

Rams Revenge

Reel Ale

Ribble Rouser

Ringing Roger

Rite Flanker

Rougham Ready

Royale

Rucking Mole

Rusty Bucket

Sauce of the Niall

Sawley Tempted

Sheepshaggers Gold

Side Pocket for a Toad

Silk of Amnesia

Sipping Bull

Skullsplitter

Slaughter Porter

Sleck Dust

Slippery Jack

Slumberjack

Slurping Stoat

Snoozy Suzy

Soar Head

Spike's on t'Way

Summa That

Sunny Daze

Sweaty Clog

Tabatha the Knackered

Tackler's Tipple

Taffy's Tipple

Thistle Tickler

Tits Up

Tittesworth Tipple

Top Totty

Trembling Rabbit

Trotter's Tipple

Trout Tickler

Weiss Buoy

Weiss Squad

What the Duck

Whitley Wobbler

Wigan Bier

Winkle Warmer Porter

Wobbly Bob

Ye Olde Trout

After all that, mine's a pint of the beautifully named Stella Artois.

Has "Real Ale" had its day?

Ok,  now I've got your attention I should clarify – I mean the term "real ale", NOT "real ale" itself.

Real ale rhetoric is commonly along the lines of "we want more people to drink real ale, we think more people should give up mass-produced lager." 

A number of factors influence the decisions of the majority who prefer to stick with safe mass-produced beer. Paramount amongst them is image, and image is made up of associations. My belief is that associations attached to the word "ale" are inhibiting its uptake.

"Ale" is an ancient word, over a thousand years old. That's a lot of history. Indeed, a history to be proud of. Unfortunately, it seems to me, use of the word "ale" forces us to look backwards – and significant numbers of people are really deeply indifferent to, and uncomfortable with, looking backwards. 

Just think of some of the contemporary interests of British people e.g. fashion, technology, their kids, the latest release by a favourite band. All these interests are imbued with a curiosity about what might happen in the future. "Ale", being a historical word doesn't fit in with the forward-looking cultural interests of huge numbers of people.

There is another angle here: younger people seem the most resistant to the allure of depth of history; older people tend to grow to appreciate historical associations. I don't find this surprising. Young people, by virtue of having a lot of life ahead of them are prone to looking forward. The corollary is that older people have more to look back on, and in  so doing may develop increased interest in the built-in historical associations of the word "ale".

The beer market reflects this: real ale, on the whole, appeals to older men (we'll get on to the gender question some other time). 

(OK, at this point some loudmouth will be telling us in exasperated tones about Kevin S0-and-So aged 18 who only drink real ale, as if that trumps my argument. That's an exception isn't it? It's like a smoker defending his habit by saying "my grandad smoked 40 a day until he was 102". It's an exception, not an example of a trend.)

Here's my conclusion: as part of a broader effort to sell more craft beer to more people outside of the long-standing middle-aged bloke demographic it is necessary to ditch the word "ale". And ditching the word "ale" means ditching the the term "real ale", it's had its day. The replacement I favour is "craft beer." What say you?

What's so "Festive" about an airless dungeon?

In the past couple of years I've been to one or two British beer festivals that I thought were quite good - pleasant environment, a good mix of people and reliably good beer. The 2007 GBBF and Keswick Beer Festival spring to mind. I'm starting to think that beer festivals are improving.

All of a sudden, along comes a BF that shatters my fragile hope – Newcastle Beer Festival.

The location is the basement music venue in the university Students' Union building. The walls are painted matt black and the lighting is harsh chucking-out-time flourescent. The seemingly unventilated room is warm and clammy. An improvised bar dominates the centre of the room; apparently un-cooled casks lurk within.

My brother, two friends and I race in and pick some beers: hmm, so-so. Nothing blatantly "off" but nothing blatantly enjoyable either. All the beer temperatures are above the ideal and all the beers are lacking condition. Flavours are dull and lifeless - "brown". We put it down to luck of the draw. The second round is the same. As is the third. Rob says "sod this" and goes home. Round four provides John with an excellent Timothy Taylor's "Ram Tam". Round five is a write-off.

Dismayed by this dismal hit rate we head upstairs for a cider palate-cleanser, hopefully something gueuze-like. The man who serves us is wearing shabby carpet slippers, and some of the cider tastes something like that. Fortunately Mr Slippers is quite forthcoming with samples and we find some bracingly agreeable dry cider to finish the evening.

Although we didn't specifically see any "showcase for real ale" blurb on  this occasion, this kind of cant is usually attached to beer festivals. Presumably the desire to showcase "real ale" played a part in the motivation behind Newcastle BF like all other similar events. Sadly, it failed dismally in this presumed aim.

Crown Posada, Newcastle – Overrated?

Been visiting this pub on-and-off for 20 yrs but never quite got it.

OK, it's pretty, the beer's good but not exceptional (try asking for a sparkler to be removed and risk being sneered to death), it's unbearably cramped.

Most recent visit - pint of Gladiator was oxidised (damp cardboard flavour) and sour - a strong case for a replacement and an apology. I polite complaint was met with "my wife's been drinking it all night", "it's perfectly clear", "it was delivered three days ago" all delivered with f*ck-off-don't-bother-me body language. Our pints weren't replaced, and we left.

Very typical of an attitude all to common in the pub world - the customer is always wrong.