Now That We’ve Cleared Up The “St. Paddy’s / St. Patty’s” Day Confusion, Here’s The Beery News Notes

I like a good breakfast sandwich as much as the next guy but I have to say I have never elevated a disk shaped sausage to sainthood. For me, Peanuts sort of established who Patty is before she grew up to be the bassist of The Bangles under an alias. So the whole “Patty v. Paddy” thing flies by me and, anyway, I tend to use the long form.  Which is fine because, you know, we ourselves are Scottish. Which is what we told pals who invited us out to drink on a Monday night when we took a pass. Our new PM probably better knew what to do when celebrating that I did. But I think Liam, however, he of Ireland, has established an alternative answer to the puzzle of how to deal with the day. That’s a hop shoot omlette right there:

I’ve experimented with cooking hop shoots before, but this is my first time to force them in the dark. Blanched and lightly fried, and served on an omelette with pecorino and black pepper. Great texture, like asparagus but more of a delicate mangetout or green bean flavour. I’m impressed …

For a more traditional tribute to Patrick, check out The Loop for a true Americana dive bar version. I wonder what the equivalent elsewhere could be? I know who we could ask. Perhaps Retired Martin who advised on the question of what one can do when there’s a spare 25 minutes to be spent at the train station in Doncaster, all by way of very tightly focused photo essay:

I would buy a book called “What Would Paul Mudge Do ?”. He certainly wouldn’t get his beer in a takeaway milk bottle to drink on the 18:22, oh no. He’d have a pint from one of Sheffield’s cask champions. But a man doesn’t travel from South Yorkshire to South Yorkshire to drink South Yorkshire beers, so I had a pint from Tallinn. And admired the seating in what is a lovely, but slightly too small, station pub.

Admittedly, you need to go back to link each sentence to an image but it’s a nice tidy narrative if you ask me. Speaking of tidy narratives, Pete Brown‘s latest column for The Times has taken a step up, using the space so far dedicated to a newbie guide to share, instead, a vignette on a player in the trade – the beer buyer:

The Waitrose beer buyer Jourdan Gabbini, 31, from Wokingham in Berkshire, genuinely loves beer and obviously enjoys his job. His ambition is to create “a bottle shop within a shop” that doesn’t just stack up the beer but helps people engage with and explore it, in part by highlighting brewers that are local to each store. This can be frustrating when a beer you like isn’t available in your manor. But that means another local brewer is getting the benefit. Gabbini has the freedom to develop real relationships with brewers. Last year he even co-created a new beer with the Lost and Grounded brewery in Bristol and Caravan Coffee Roasters — a coffee pale ale that was exclusive to Waitrose.

Speaking of booze sales, Lew dipped his toe into the tariff dispute and examined the Canadian response when it comes to the policies implimented up here by our government run liquor trade:

The most common reaction has been pure Canada: a non-smiling “Elbows up!”, echoing Mr. Hockey, Saskatchewan-born Gordie Howe, a player who took no shit off anyone. Anyone who tried to slash Howe was getting a fast elbow to the head. Canada’s ready for this, and they’re not kidding. The angry Americans are right about one thing. The Canadian response of taking everything off the shelves, leaving only blank space behind, is disproportionate and goes further than the American tariffs. This doesn’t just affect day-to-day, month-on-month sales. This kind of action also attacks something much more valuable: the brand. Raise the price while leaving the bottles on the shelf, and you paradoxically make people think about the brand more, maybe even realize how much they ARE willing to spend to get it. But take the bottles away, leaving an empty shelf with a “BUY CANADIAN INSTEAD” sign, and the American product becomes invisible.

Lew says, quite reasonably, that this degree of response is because Canada is facing an existential crisis. I don’t actually think that’s the full story. I have loads of pals and more blood family in the USA than here in Canada but, you know, gotta tell you… we’re not going anywhere. And we’re not some sort of jilted pal. Trump just fucking pissed us off. When I played soccer in university, my Scottish father (a much better player in his own youth) would say “don’t wake the sleeping dog.” Well, we’re up now.  And we are drinking our own damn rye. Even the cheap stuff that tastes like gasoline.

Speaking of these the finer things, Nigel Sadler pointed me to an interesting 1991 Belgian beer rating guide posted by the beer importers James Clay and Sons on Bluesky:

This clever guide evaluated beers based on ABV, Sourness, Sweetness, Bitterness, and predominant flavour, which then generated a five digit code that could easily give a picture of the key characteristics.

Here are the five images (1,2,3,4,5) in case your are not part of the Bluesky way of life. I add them not just to scrape the data but to illustrate a couple of points. First, I have long thought the overbearing BJCP system was clumsy and created poorly transferrable information in a simple but meaningful way. This does that. Second, being a real nerd, I immediately recognized that this five digit system mirrors the SINPO code used by long distance radio listener nerds. The SINPO code not only succinctly frames the transient quality of a radio transmission heard well beyond the intended broadcast range but it is also understood across cultural and language gaps. Simple, neutral and still data rich. So it’s gold when you are sending your QSL reception report looking for a postcard, right? What? No! No, it’s really cool. It really is. No, you’re the big fat loser.

Getting back to where we started, Ron has been to Brazil again and, much to my delight, has posted a photo essay – a montage if you will – of many of his breakfasts as well as what it is like to be an Englishman in Rio for Carnaval:

Many not so much lightly-dressed as slightly-dressed partygoers walk by. I’ve never seen so many men in fishnet tights and tutus. It has a bit of a Gay Pride air about it. Some of the party people pause to pick up Pils. Always the Pils. There’s a merry buzz. Everyone is going to a party. I can feel their crackling anticipation as they laugh and drink their way down the road. Anticipation of a good time. A really good time. I’m starting to quite like this Carnaval thing. Everyone is in a really good mood. Even a miserable old git like me.

Over at VinePair, Joshua M. Bernstein told the tale of the rise and fall of Magic Hat #9, a once hudely popular beer out of Vermont:

Johnson built a moderate-strength pale ale infused with apricot essence, and the mysteriously named #9 hit Burlington taps in summer 1995. The beer was designed to disappear come fall, but calls from angry bar owners threatening to stop carrying Magic Hat beers led Newman to turn #9 into a year-round release. “It was never intended to do anything,” Newman says. “We were just trying to find a way to sell beer.” The beer thrived on neglect and even disdain. “Beer geeks at the time f(u)cking hated it, but the more they hated it, the better the sales were,” Newman says, adding that #9 was nobody’s favorite beer at the brewery. Magic Hat initially spent scant dollars to support #9. “I could argue that we spent the first two years doing absolutely nothing to help it grow, almost working to kill it,” Newman says. “And then one day we went, ‘What the f(u)ck are we thinking here?’ And so we got on the bandwagon and it just kept growing.”

There was a time when Magic Hat was way ahead of its time and attracted the dollars of border crossing beer nerds like me over a decade and a half ago, looking for their latest Odd Notion seasonals. I seem to have had some on New Years Eve 2004. In October 2005, I review another mixed case of their and… I mentioned that I didn’t exactly love the #9. I thought it was supposed to be peach but Oskar in the comments said “No. 9 used to be much higher quality, with a REAL apricot taste” so I wasn’t wrong wrong. Just wrong.

Speaking of travel, Katie spent a week on the Isle of Man. She didn’t mention seeing Kelly… but she did write a lovely piece at her space The Glug about solo dining at The Boat Yard in the town of Peel:

The menu is as fishy as I dreamed it would be, and while I’d normally order something picky or snacky or fried for a starter, I couldn’t think of anything nicer on such a cold night than a bowl of chowder. It came hot and creamy, filled with Manx kipper and mussels, and a healthy incorporation of curly parsley. Slurping it felt like warmth and health and happiness. To drink, I had a glass of champagne. And then another. How incredibly off-putting of me, to ignore wine tasting regulations and all common decency, but I wanted some Champagne, so I had some. End of story. If you want to fight me about it, I‘ll meet you outside. Doing champagne by the glass is not ideal for any hospitality venue, and I apologised for being so awkward. Then I apologised for apologising. My lovely host was gregarious: “You deserve to have what you like,” she said. I wondered if had I been with other people she might not have added life coaching to my menu free of charge, but I appreciated it nonetheless. And anyway, I did like it very much, because it was rich and biscuity, with a squeeze of lemon sherbet.

Smoky kipper chowder and glasses of champagne. That’s it right there. Yup.

Note: Martyn captured on the audio talking about the porter. And the book. The book that launches very soon.

And David Jesudason has managed to make me homesick for a place I have never been.  Much of my family lives along the 128 bus route east of Edinburgh and I worked in Poland for a while when I was in my twenties. So this portrait of the The Persevere in Edinburgh’s historic port of Leith has me longing… and (again) hungry:

…it retains those born and bred in Edinburgh’s historically working class Leith district, especially sports lovers who might glance at the horse racing before a match. While it also serves as a home away from home for many of the Polish diaspora who have been linked to the port since 1939. This is seen in the pub’s owners, Lublin-born Dorota Czerniec-Radowska and her husband Konrad Rochowski, and the kitchen they have run since 2015 which pumps out delicacies, such as plate-sized schnitzels and comforting white sausage (Żurek) soup. You can eat these in the pub or the restaurant-style section, known as the Percy (also the affectionate nickname given to the pub by its regulars,) where paintings of Dorota and Konrad’s hometown are displayed.

One of the pleasures of Poland was learning how useful my childhood training in the rolling of an “r” and the roughening of a “ch” were.* And, as with the Korean food, the reassembling of similar ingredients was also a welcome surprise. Next time I am there, I should make of point of being here… there… at this pub.

Note: a reminder for next week. It’s another end of the month edition of The Session… and Gary jumped the gun but gives us a good example as we prepare. Matty C is hosting:

For the March 2025 edition of The Session I’m asking participants to produce a piece of critical writing about beer or pubs. This could be a review of a beer you’ve enjoyed, or perhaps one you haven’t. A pub you’re fond of, or maybe one that has room for improvement. You could write about a beer experience (or lack of) in a setting such as a restaurant, or even produce a critique that focuses on a particular aspect of beer or pub culture. The aim is not to be judgemental, subjective or to showcase any particular bias; this is not some finger-wagging exercise. Whereas criticism involves building an argument about why you think something is simply good or bad, critique involves taking a more holistic approach, using carefully researched and considered analysis to build a reasoned, objective, and possibly even entertaining take that benefits readers by giving them good quality information to consider.

I am still working out how this isn’t a distinction without a difference as building a good argument always requires considered analysis. But I look forward to the submissions.

Did you now that some common foods do not qualify as no-alc? Well you will now thanks to the exceedingly tenuous argument placed into the discourse by the lobbyists of the The British Beer and Pub Association:

Advocates argue that the current limit not only confuses consumers but also restricts the development of innovative alcohol-free products. According to the BBPA, raising the threshold would help the UK’s brewing sector thrive in the rapidly growing no and low alcohol market, while providing consumers with more clarity and choice. The BBPA’s findings highlight that burger rolls can contain up to 1.2% ABV, while malt loaf can reach 0.7%, and ripe bananas can hit 0.5%. These levels are considered negligible and occur naturally due to fermentation, yet remain higher than the current 0.05% threshold for alcohol-free beer. The government’s consultation is set to conclude later this year, with the industry eagerly awaiting the outcome.

Eagerly. Not “patiently” or even simply “awaiting” but eagerly.

That’s it. Lots of interesting stuff to read as it turned out. While you await eagerly for more next week, please check out Boak and Bailey every Saturday (WHILE YOU CAN!!! They are holidaying in April and May) and Stan going strong again each and every Monday. Then listen to Lew’s podcast and get your emailed issue of Episodes of my Pub Life by David Jesudason on the (sometimes even but never) odd Fridays. And maybe The British Food History Podcast. And Phil Mellows is at the BritishBeerBreaks. Once a month, Will Hawkes issues his London Beer City newsletter and do sign up for Katie’s wonderful newsletter, The Gulp, too. The Share looks to be back with a revival. Ben’s Beer and Badword is out there with the all the sweary Mary! And check out the Atlantic Canada Beer Blog‘s weekly roundup. There is new reading at The Glass which is going back to being a blog. Any more? Check out the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good and they are revving up for a new year. And the BOAS podcast for the bro-ly. And the long standing Beervana podcast …except they have now stood down.  Plus We Are Beer People. The Boys Are From Märzen podcast appears suspended as does BeerEdge, too. VinePair packed in Taplines as well. All gone. But not Ontario’s own A Quick Beer featuring… Michigan! There is more from the DaftAboutCraft podcast, too.  All About Beer has sponsored trade possy podcasts and there’s also The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast. And the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube.  The Moon Under Water is gone which is not surprising as the ask was $10 a month. Pete Brown’s one cost a fifth of that – but only had the one post. Such is life.

*My late toddler trauma includes being told “Whales and Wales are not homonyms!!!” as a parent’s hand was placed before my mouth to catch the whisp of an “h” that was so critical to the continuation of the culture.