Good News from the North East

I've just heard that Mordue Brewery (one of my favourites) is installing bottling machinery. This is confirmation to the world at large that last year's receivership, restructuring and re-financing is allowing Mordue to grow. Arguably, it's a brewery that failed to fully capitalise on its 1997 CBOB win. All being well the bottling of its tremendous IPA will give the brewery the national recognition it deserves. Lookout Brewdog IPA and Thornbridge Jaipur!

While in Newcastle last week my brother and I eavesdropped on a charver who looked distinctly out of place amongst the community arts project types in the Cumberland Arms. His friend insisted he drink Mordue IPA. His response? - "It tastes of fuckin' flowahs!" Isn't that a great advertising slogan? I can see the t-shirts now.

Take-home Casks?

I see Sainsbury's are now selling cask beer. Or maybe not.

Dirty and Ashamed Again

Yes, you guessed it – I set foot in a Wetherspoons again.

Having a few minutes to kill while I waited for a lift I popped into the Railway in Barrow-in-Furness. I was lured by the siren-call of "The World's Biggest International Real Ale Festival".

I was drawn to "Welton's Rauchbier" and my heart beat a little faster, my tastebuds roused from slumber.

Oh the disappointment, it's "available soon".

"Available soon" is a mendacious euphemism for "NOT AVAILABLE", and it made my blood boil. Hopes raised and dashed in seconds. I despise the way Wetherspoons do this.

I went home and took several showers scrubbing myself with a yardbrush and carbolic soap to rid myself of the Wetherspoons taint.

Blast from the Past?

A couple of days ago I was invited to a quiz held at a pub I would normally pay to avoid. The Bay Horse in my hometown of Barrow-in-Furness is a purpose-built pub on a prissy sixties estate inhabited by beige-wearing Daily Mail readers desperate not to be thought of as working class. Entirely predictably cask ale or any other form of agreeable beer is conspicuous by its absence.

Scanning the bar a large font was impossible not to notice – Toby Light. I had no idea the brand still existed. I remember it in the eighties when it seemed to pollute about half of the pubs in the town. It's now so obscure (it doesn't have an entry on Ratebeer), somewhat masochistically I felt obliged to give it a try.

It was a spectacular triumph of non-flavourfullness with a creamy [how I hate that word] nitrogen head. It was selling rather well.

We didn't win the quiz. I won't be going back in a hurry.

Big Cringe

Admirable though a generic "British Beer Needs You" campaign may be, does such an endeavour need the image of a bloody great effin' goblin? Not for me it bloody doesn't.

I hate goblins!

Life as a Non-Beerophile

I have a TIVO video recorder (TIVOs are to SKY+ as Macs are to PCs but they're sadly no longer available in the UK). I can give it keywords to automatically record programmes. Naturally my keyword list includes beer and brewery. The other night it picked up a dreadful programme about a coachload of Brit tourists who have to vote each other off the trip for things like B.O. or having a Birmingham accent.

Anyway, the coach trip travelled to Belgium where our intrepid travellers visited the Cantillon Brewery. Cantillon beers aren't to everyone's taste and they come as a shock to the novice beerophile. Here we see "normal" people sampling Cantillon – pleasant viewing it ain't.

Raiding my Secret Cellar

Last weekend I spent a night a Dave Bailey's Woolpack Inn. The pub is in Eskdale on the western side of the Lake District – the bleak, craggy side thankfully devoid of irritatingly twee Beatrix Potterisms.

As a city-lover, the silence, the proximity of sheep and the absence of a mobile phone signal left me somewhat unnerved. Beer came to my rescue as usual.

After warming up on two or three pints (including Dave's own "Tenacity", a complex dark red ale abundantly hopped) we embarked on a tasting of several bottles I'd brought from my secret vintage cellar:

Anchor "Our Special Ale" 2004. I confess I didn't have much hope for the ageing of this beer. I was wrong. Gloriously wrong. Compared to the young beer this had gone very slightly winey and posessed a less velvety mouthfoul: hints of port/madeira perhaps. The spicy aroma seemed to fill the room and even non-tasters were heard identifying spicy notes: cloves, cinnamon and more. The underlying orange rosewater flavour had also benefited from ageing - more coherent and altogether less cloying. No adverse signs of age such as flatness or oxidisation were detectable. A tremendous success which pleased me immensely because I've got a magnum of 2002 at home (bids in sealed envelopes please).

Alaskan Smoked Porter 2003 – last of a case given to me by the importer for looking after brewery owner Geoff Larson when he visited London. Geoff Larson himself gave me a half case of 1999 vintage but they've all gone. Although I'm not averse to smoked foods I've always found the smokiness of this beer overwhelming when it's young. Fortunately it softens with age, as we discovered. The usual slight vinousness (vinousosity?) effect had taken place but the only jarring note was a hint of oxidisation evident in the finish. Carbonation was unusually high.

Sierra Nevada Celebration 2005 (I think). I'm not averse to bitterness per se - I wouldn't be a beer drinker otherwise but I've always found Celebration's bitterness a bit much. Also the underlying liquid barley sugar flavour I find too rich. Fortunately this is a beer that benefits from ageing - as long as you can bear to give it. From this 4 year old we got a big waft of typically American hops. They were evident in the flavour but in a whole lot more agreeable fashion than young SN Celebration. The body was of pithy seville orange in a marmaladey way. Although carbonation was good we couldn't coax a head on the beer.

Orval v. Orval. I took along a bottle that had been hanging around for three years or more - or so I thought. It transpired it was only six months older than the young bottles in Dave's fridge dated 10/08. The young version: fresh zesty typical Orval but I sense that it's not going through a classic phase - 5 or 6 years ago it seemed to have more oomph, it lacks body now. Six months older: aroma and zestiness gone, suprisingly dull, very disappointing.

Gueuze Girardin 1882 "black label" (been in my cellar 2 or 3 yrs) I anticipated that by this stage we'd need a contrast for palate cleansing purposes. Instant aroma of old apples going a bit brown and wrinkled. The ciderishness in flavour was accompanied by woodiness and mustiness - and a heap of sourness. I don't know about Dave but it did the trick for me - it perked up my senses and gave me a brief boost and put a smile on my face.

My memory's vague, but I think we may have had another pint of Dave's own at this point.

My room was rather splendidly equipped with a huge triple bed and a double spar bath thingy. My sozzled sleep was almost enhanced by an entertaining dream involving the triple bed but a jolt of dehydration-induced cramp in my left calf cut it painfully short.

One of the problems...

Pub Curmudgeon has created a poll - "How much would you consider exorbitant for a pint of 4.0% ABV beer?"

In a roundabout way he has drawn attention to a problem faced by brewers – there's no price differential between indifferent beer and exceptional beer: there is no higher potential reward for producing exceptional beer. Producing exceptional beer is necessarily more costly than producing indifferent beer – don't believe anyone who tells you otherwise.

Ask wine-lovers "How much would you consider exorbitant for a bottle of 12% ABV wine?" and the response would be a puzzled "which wine?"

Beer Tax-o-Meter

Ever the sceptic, I feel I should point out that, although excessive beer tax is a big problem, I feel there is a hidden agenda in the "Axe the Beer Tax" campaign. Looking at the corporate sponsors of the campaign it seems to me there are a lot of companies in there who would like to divert attention away from other factors contributing to the pub downturn – strangulatory tenancies and, above all, the tie system. Having said that, I have registered my support and I have pestered my MP John Hutton on the subject (although I did alter the wording of the letter template to include an urge to support Fair Pint).

If anyone from Axe the Tax should read this – good idea providing code to embed your Tax-O-Meter and Postcard but they are too damned big for blogs.

YoB goes Twitter.

Keen followers may have noticed that my YoB seems to have dried up.

Yes ... and no.

I'm still emailing my blog list with beery messages. In fact, there's a backlog of twenty or so waiting to be polished up. When they're done I'll be moving over to this Twitter malarkey thingummy – fortunately fumbly illiteracy is allowed there so I won't have to do any editing.

What I won't be doing is calling posts "Tweets" as the word reminds me of "the Tweets" who were responsible for a minor crime against humanity – the execrable "Birdie Song".

[BTW "The Birdie Song" is still popular in the tents at Oktoberfest 28 yrs after it was an international hit.]

A Sure-fire Hit?

I've been scanning beer names in the GBG again. I've noted the words which appear most often and I'm using them to name a hypothetical beer.

Waddya reckon?

It's going to be called ... [drumroll] ...

Old Gold Original Folly Wobbler's Revenge Tipple Pride.

....hmm

Wot, No Portman Group?

I'm going to Cairo for a week in April. 

I've being doing some research into Egyptian beer and I've found one that sounds right up my street.

How to a Write Pub Review

I'm a frequent visitor to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. There's a website and book dedicated to reviews of Newcastle pubs, bars and nightclubs that never ceases to entertain me – The Burglar's Dog. Don't let it put you off, it's a great beer town!

Gordon Ramsay's new pub book

Yesterday's Times magazine carried an extract and recipes from Big Gord's new book "Great British Pub Food."

"The Great British pub has a unique place in British life"... and so on.

Something bothers me. Yes, I know, it's the picture of Ramsay and his chum clutching what appear to be pints of Guinness. It's black, it has a creamy head and there's a golden harp branded glass. OK, I know Guinness is in thousands of British pubs, some huge percentage market penetration but, well, it's an Irish brand and they boast it's all brewed in Dublin. To plonk something overtly Irish in a British pub book is inelegant, to say the least.

This strikes me as a lack of attention to detail on the part of Gordo. Either that or some well-rewarded product placement.

I am reminded of a cheffy documentary I saw a couple of years ago. The young hotshot Aussie chef at some high profile London restaurant is seen swearing and shouting at all and sundry in the kitchen in the manner popularised by Gordo. One specific macho rant aimed at some cowering junior went something like this: "flavour, flavour, flavour, never stop thinking about it, your tastebuds never have a day off, they're your most valuable skill, your tastebuds will never let you down, learn how they work and taste everything." Later, the loudmouth chef was seen at home relaxing after a long shift shouting at people. He kicked off his shoes, slumped in front of the telly and .... wait for it .... opened a can of Stella.

My Heart Sinks...

...when I see rubbish like this.

What kind of grindingly unfunny "sense of humour" creates this  sort of thing?

Time after time beer drinkers who don't drink cask ale are asked "why don't you drink cask ale?" and time after time imagery is high on the list of dislikes. OK, imagery is a nebulous and ephemeral concept but I'm pretty certain the brand "cask ale" includes beer mats with dismal drawings and contrived wordplay.

It astonishes me that companies like Black Sheep probably have a marketing budget but ill-considered rubbish like this still enters the public domain.

If I was Stevie Wonder I'd sue.

YoB: #40

Vratislav (5%) - Cheap proper Czech lager from Tesco. I enjoy this beer, I've usually got a bottle or two lurking in the fridge. It's by no means the best lager I've ever tasted but it's head & shoulders above the industrial dross that dominates the market. I've never noticed any problem with skunkiness despite green glass. Highly recommended for when your mates expect you to have some lager in. I put the name "Vratislav" in Ratebeer and get 6 results - anyone which of the 6 it is?

YoB: #37, #38,

Okells Bitter in the Black Dog at Dalton-in-Furness. Disappointing, flat(ish), old & lifeless.

At home: De Konninck 1833 hoge gisting pur malt - Distinctly sour. Is it supposed to be like this, I can't remember? Wrong but very enjoyable.

Oz and James Disappointment

Until last night's episode I'd been enjoying Oz and James Drink to Britain. Firstly, it was nice to see beer getting some sympathetic media coverage, and secondly, they seemed to have done their research.

Unfortunately last night's episode (watch it here) was a big let down – shoddy and shallow.

Bugbear number 1: Given the rare privilege of sampling a 139 year old beer James May offered the trite comments "it's corked", "it's horrible, it tastes like it was strained through Magwitch's underpants, it's rotten". If I was Steve Wellington, minder of the old beers, I would feel very insulted that this TV ignoramus couldn't even make a sensible and perceptive comment on the flavour. I've tasted three or four beers from this collection and I know that they don't resemble anything you'd find in the pub. They more like a mysterious form of fortified wine something like a peculiar Medeira or Port with a dose of malt syrup – Tetley or Stella they ain't.

Bugbear number 2: The final sequence was an uninformed anti-lager rant. Anti-lager rants are what you expect from loudmouth CAMRA neophytes, not from renowned drinks writers and their sidekicks. Clarke repeated the oft-heard but lazily simplistic idea that lager's boom was due to clever advertising brainwashing beer drinkers - "a television advert could finally make people drink something they viscerally didn't want to drink". The duo then went on to taste lagers ("oh God, do we have to?" - Oz Clarke, "the least we can do is try the stuff" - James May) with curry. Isn't that a bit obvious? Lager and curry eh? How many milliseconds thought were given to that scene? ("Which lager goes best with curry? - Does it matter, would we notice?" - Oz). The duo went on to say disparaging things and make grimaces at some well-known dull lagers (I think I spotted Kinfisher) – but where was the necessary reminder that there are countless brilliant lagers in the world? No-bloody-where. 

yob: #34, #35, #36

A quiet night in:

Vedett Blanche.

A repeat of #34

Anchor Liberty Ale

This beer has been a major influence on my life. I first came across it in the mid-nineties. I was (and still am) entranced by layers of flavour. It doesn't call itself an IPA but surely that's what it is. Brewed since 1974 it is the mitochondrial Eve of the whole IPA revival. 

Rochefort 8
My favourite of all the Trappist beers. I particularly enjoy the long herbal hoppy finish which, it seems to me, isn't shared by its big brother Rochefort 10 although the 10 is generally rated higher. I haven't done a Rochefort v. Westvleteren head to head taste test but I suspect the Rocheforts would win. My natural scepticism suggests to me that super-rarity lifts people's perception of the Westvleterens. 

YoB: #34

At my brother's house in Newcastle-

Vedett Extra White (bottle) - I'm a massive fan of Belgian wheats, far more so than German weiss biers. I love the grassy flavours and the thirst-quenchingness. A lot more YoB entries would be Belgian wheat if I could get my hands on them in the Cumbrian boondocks. Back in the my days at Microbar in London we had loads. Celis on draught was a particular favourite - liquid custard creams with a helping of lemoniness and coriander seed. A proportion of people heartily disliked it and a distinct proportion couldn't get enough of it. When I find a beer is having that divisive effect on customers (somewhat paradoxically) I know its a special beer.