Well, it has been fun. Most of the polls remain to lean towards the non-politician globally recognized economist as opposed to the guy who’s been mostly a grievence mongering backbench MP since he was 24. I make no comment otherwise. As you can understand in my position, I must remain strictly neutral in these matters as a member of the media. And how could I not be, given the vital vegemite v. plastic straw level of fundamental policy divide we are faced with as a nation.
No, we need to set that aside. Let’s start off with something pleasant. Travel is always nice. Getting away. We all like to get away. Yet traveling can be difficult. You may want to find something new but the new has to be sufficiently familiar to fit into if not expectations at least your range of capacity to enjoy it. I’ve been following Boak and Bailey’s travels east with interest and have some sympathy for their experience in two pubs in Sibiu, a Romanian city I had never heard of, the first being…
…an odd place called Butoiul de aur, which had a bit of a middle class suburban lounge-bar feel. Then the karaoke started and it began to feel more like a party pub. Local beer Nembeer is either not very good or was not well cared for there. It all tasted rather like our first forays into home brewing. The best of the options was Amarilla (5.2%) which had a promising aroma and some good flavours among the off ones. We were initially excited to discover Kombinat, which appeared to be a Czech inspired Brewpub. But it turned out to be mostly a Staropramen outlet. Their eponymous house beer was fine – vaguely Czech in its maltiness, but not particularly distinguished.
Not particularly distinguished. Something like myself, I am told. You know, I am not sure I could write “some good flavours among the off ones” let alone be patient enough to unravel the threads to discern the difference. Me, I’d be the last one to sign up for anything called an “off-taste seminar” given that it’s basically the beery equivalent of a college course on shitty paintings. No, once I encounter the gak, all thoughts stop.
Also on the road but just a bit to the northwest of B+B, ATJ shared thoughts on things Bambergian… Bambergese… Bamberger:**
Beer to me is an open book about travel, people, friendships, memories, family, history, architecture, bars and pubs, breweries and the harmonic nature of the liquid in your glass. It is about how a landscape can shape the beers that people drink and about how it can be something more than refreshment, and even provide a guide to life and living as thorough as literature, poetry, music or meditation. This was why returning to Bamberg once more unleashed a surge of joy within, a feeling that I also experience when I go to the lagerlands of Bohemia and Bavaria, or drink beer in a brown cafe in Flanders, walk into a rural pub in England or spend time searching for soul-shaking beer in somewhere like Bologna or Barcelona.
Ripe words yet they capture a mood I very much recognize. Twenty years ago, I would have such a surge of joy walking into Finger Lake Beverages in Ithaca, New York that I made myself walk the aisles for five minutes before I could stop and touch any of the offerings.
And furtherer wester still, two feature writers with The Daily Star took themselves on a trip to four east end London’s dubbed roughest pub crawl:
The Manor Arms was empty, with a smell of must and TCP hanging in the air. One bloke sat down at the end of the bar chatting away to a gruff man in a cap pulling the pints. ‘“F*** this, f*** that. It’s the f****** credit union,” said the bartender. “Oh that thing you said would never happen?” “Yeah that f****** thing, hahahahah.” Spurs were on the telly, we both loved that, watching our beloved, beleaguered club fight against Hoffenheim to the soundtrack of Danny Dyre-esque ‘awwwiiiittte’s… The barman, it turns out, was a Spurs fan too. “Typical Germans, if that’s a penalty, my d***s a goldfish,” he said as a Hoffenheim player fell in the box. Men kept walking in with bags of vodka and salmon. “Not for me mate,” our new companion, Graham, behind the bar would say. “Know wot mean?” We didn’t really, but we loved him. Out the blokes would walk with their bags of salmon, deflated, venturing back into the inky blackness to find a more willing buyer. It couldn’t have been more relaxed, more comfortable. Neither of us had had a chat with a barman this good in months.
I know that feeling, too, having once been offered tantalizing beef steaks, discretely offered by a long coated gent who pulled them from the front of his trousers, all wrapped and labeled and clearly freshly stolen from the grocery store near to the formerly named Ladies Beverage Room in my Halifax of the 1980s.
But forget all that. If one is to believe Reuters, the next big beer tourism destination is going to be Sweden – certainly once news of these changes to the drinking laws get better known:
Under current rules, shops in the Nordic country can only sell drinks with up to 3.5 percent alcohol. For stronger drinks, consumers must head to Systembolaget, the state-run alcohol chain which operates 450 outlets across Sweden. The stores have limited opening hours, don’t advertise alcohol or discount drinks. The government’s so-called “farm sale” law for alcoholic beverages of all strengths takes effect in June and runs for six years before a mandatory evaluation. The law states visitors must have paid, can buy only small “souvenir-style” amounts and have to listen to “a lecture” with an educational element.
Party Party!! Ja! Ja!! Jaaaa!!! What else is going on? Did you hear about these tariff things? No really, they’re a thing now and apparently the wine makers of Bordeaux have had to face some facts this year with the threats and realities:
Trump’s threat of 200 percent tariffs caused dismay in Bordeaux. “Châteaux will close,” said one proprietor. “Négociants will close.” And of course it would cause chaos in the US wine market as well, with many casualties. That was why few believed that he would do it: the damage to US commerce would be too great. And there was a lot of lobbying against tariffs, too: restaurants, sommeliers and retailers had got together to explain the problem. In the end, the tariff on the EU was set at 20 percent – for now. On a practical level, Bordeaux has also been shipping a lot of wine to the US recently. Most leading châteaux have ensured that they have somewhere between six months and a year’s stock already there.
Speaking of managing traditions in times of the new, The Mudge posted a good piece on Thornbridge’s use of one of the Union sets to create some premium and tradititonal ales:
…in a world of heavily-hopped New World IPAs, the question must be asked whether these relatively understated beers in a classic English style will make a mark. Ordering online, these beers came to almost £4 a bottle, so they are probably something better regarded as an occasional treat rather than a regular drink, especially when Jaipur can be obtained from Morrisons at 4 for £7.
Can an occasional treat sustain itself? Even the new has been losing its sheen more and more it seems. Beer Business Insider sends out a cryptically condensed email every week with some pretty frank comment including a ticker tape style summary of fairly recent movements in the US booze trade, in this case to mid-April:
Wine volume down double digits, 9.6% for 4 weeks, several points worse than 26 weeks (-6%) or 52 weeks (-5%). Craft volume down 9% for 4 weeks, $$ down 8%. Craft down 5% for 26 weeks. And volume of spirits-centric seltzers suddenly dropped 6.8% last 4 weeks. Down 3% for 12 weeks. Recall, High Noon is two-thirds of spirits-centric seltzers. It fell 6.6% and 12.8% last 2 weeks. What’s going on?
Yikes… I think. That many numbers makes me all woozy and giggly. Perhaps relatedly, The New York Times had an interesting story about how, for a city that claims to never sleep, it is getting harder to get a license to sell booze late at night:
…some bar owners say closing times have trended earlier in recent years, with lively venues like Carousel, which opened in 2023, shutting down at 2 a.m. Most operators agree that today’s customers are drinking less than previous generations, and that they’re going out earlier… Late-night liquor licenses, once an expectation in nightlife-heavy neighborhoods, have become increasingly difficult to obtain, especially in areas where bars bump up against brownstones. Early birds and night owls have already clashed over outdoor dining programs and summer concerts. “The 4 a.m., seven-days-a-week license is becoming ararer commodity,” said Terrence Flynn, a liquor licensing attorney who has represented hundreds of bar owners in New York City since 1985.
Next up, Jeff posted a post called “Convergence” but I might have called it “Overlap” given, you know, how I see these things: there are no neat and tidy boxes of styles. Yet the drive to be the first to label something as a thing is a real thing but it is not a good thing. But that’s just me. Let’s see what Jeff had to say:
Until I poured out a can of Pure Project’s Neon Bloom, however, it hadn’t occurred to me that pilsners and pales were converging. We’ve had a nice run of warm, sunny weather in Portland, and midway through the first can I enjoyed—thanks to a four-pack sent from San Diego—I realized I was having an experience shift. The beer smelled and tasted like a hoppy ale, but I was slugging it down like a lager. I paused to give it some attention and realize, purely from the sensory experience, that it drank very much like a WC pilsner.
OK, that makes sense. But, and this gets a little ranty and a little tedious, this is not a new issue or even one about pale v. lager so much as continuation of, how should I put it, hmm… the downward spiral. See, if style means anything, pale ale should lead with grainy texture framed or even cut by the hopping. Lagers should speak one way or another to roundness of malt, again framed to various degrees by hops and even other malts. IPAs are supposed to be where the hops shine but, instead, they suck all the oxygen out of the room.** But, given IPA sells, well here we are. I would also note Stan’s comment:
Bob Kunz and Tim McDonnell of Highland Park Brewery may or may not have invented West Coast Pilsner, but it appears that Kunz was the first to give it a name. Their Timbo Pils pretty much embodies the style. Last October, Timbo won a gold medal at the Great American Beer Festival . . . in the American-style Pale Ale competition.
Clearly an evil roams upon the land and it’s name is style. Interestingly, this had coincided with the collapse of actual independence in US craft.
Finally, I really liked this article in Pellicle if only for the early inclusion seven lines in of the word Coreff, a word I encountered last January when the same author, Anaïs Lecoq, wrote about that beer of Breton. Rather than a straight up Part II, this week we have a next chapter on the guide to the beer culture of that part of France:
Strolling effortlessly behind the massive wooden bar, Élise is the first thing you’ll notice when pushing the door of Tavarn Ty Élise—Élise’s house if you translate it into English—in Plouyé, a small village in Central Brittany, France. Her pub has been a staple for the community since 1978. That’s when Élise’s mum, Anna, bought the place for her daughter after the owner retired. “I was 21 and had no intention of tending a bar,” Élise says. “I was a seasonal worker and I liked my freedom, but I still said yes.” Watching her doing her thing, you would think she’s been there her whole life. She hasn’t.
WIll there be further chapters, a three and even a four? I hope so. One last thing – tomorrow is the next edition of The Session, hosted by Ding and on the question of value. Value?
Value most certainly does not necessarily correlate with cheap either (although it could), rather it means when I part with the cash, no matter how large or small the amount, does what I receive in return meet or exceed the value of said cash? Subjective? Sure, but we all have our own sense of value.
Value! Oh, I am digging into the archives for that one. That’s all for this week. Until we meet in May after all the votes are counted net Monday and after all the taxes are submitted next Wednesday, please check out Boak and Bailey every Saturday (…as long as all their holiday fun doesn’t get in the way…) and Stan (….who is also going on his own holiday break so may not be there…) each and every Monday.*** Then listen to a few of the now rarely refreshed Lew’s podcasts 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. Maybe? 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. 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? We have Ontario’s own A Quick Beer featuring visits to places like… Michigan! All About Beer has given space to some trade possy podcasts and there’s also The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast with an episode just last month!. And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good but, hmm, they’ve also gone quiet this year. The rest of these are largely dead. And the long standing Beervana podcast …except they have now stood down. As has We Are Beer People. The Share looked to be back with a revival but now its gone quiet. And the Boys Are From Märzen podcast appears suspended as does BeerEdge, too. VinePair packed in Taplines as well. All dead and gone. There is more from the DaftAboutCraft podcast, too. Nope – that ended a year ago. 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. Such is beer podcasting and newlettering!
*Bamberger would be a good name for a smash burger place.
**That is why the label “IPA” is both meaningless and helpful as it gets slapped on anything that wants to hide yet still sell. From candy coated Willy Wonka nightmares to innocence of light lagers and simple pales ales it’s all IPA.
***I heard Stan as well as Boak and Bailey held a vote in secret and decided I could hold the fort, that I really didn’t need a holiday. O. M. G.