Category: England

The Thursday Beery News Notes For The Last Of April 2020

Hello again. It’s been another week. We seem to have all hit some sort of peak with our experience of this pandemic, if only for this phase one. I sat in the yard last Saturday mainly by myself. Had a beer or two. Pretty grateful for that yard. Still, knowing it all sits heavy on the shoulders, it’s not a bad idea to seek out light entertainment and isn’t that what good beer is? In moderation? Or  just as prescribed. It’s not easy. Emma Inch has had a personal essay on her particular challenges published in Original Gravity and it mirrors the experience of my few friends who are especially vulnerable. It is certainly not easy.

Now, a public service announcement. Alistair at Fuggled has declared a special edition of The Session is to be held this very Friday.  The Session was one of the best ideas in beer blogging* that ran for over a decade. On the first Friday of the month everyone who was anyone had to write a post about the designated topic. Alistair has continued the concept:

In there is the genesis of the theme for the Quarantine Edition of the The Session, in these unprecedented times, what has become your new drinking normal? Are you drinking more? Less? Have you raided the cellar regularly? Is there a particular brewery whose beer is keeping you company while you are confined to barracks? Has there been a beer revelation in these times?

Write!

Brewery folk are having to redirect their attention, as described in a piece by Josh Noel for the Chicago Tribune. And in Atlanta in Georgia, Monday Night Brewing has released the results of its survey on intended return to the taproom with some fairly specific and graphically displayed results:

While taproom visitors have some trepidation about the immediate future, they are cautiously optimistic about medium-term. 61% of respondents expect their visitation frequency (vs. their reported frequency pre-COVID-19) to go back to normal within 3 months. Still–28% of respondents expect a decline in their brewery visit frequency lasting at least 3 months.

Not unrelatedly, The Tand himself has written a very interesting post on the question of what happens to the pubs when folk get wise that drinks at home are not shabby and no where near as expensive based on his own experience of this new world order:

I’ve enjoyed a different kind of beer o’clock. Around five in the evening E and me have had a beer or two in the sunshine in our garden. Not every evening, but certainly most if the sun is still shining.  We have had to wear fleeces on the odd occasion and once, given the rather spiky wind that generally accompanies sunshine in the Grim North, we reinforced our outer apparel with blankets.  We have remarked, like everyone else, about the perfect blue skies, the absence of vapour trails and aircraft and enjoyed the birds singing. Not so much though the whirring sound of  wood pigeons, but you can’t have everything, can you?

As a bit of counter-measure (and when not wanting help in finding the best British lager), JJB joined the discussion on how pubs in England (he owns one) should deal with the question of pubco tenant rents:

…those getting the grants should indeed apply them toward rent, as the government intended, but pubco should forgive any shortfall if the rent is too high or the closure protracted. 

Others are finding that there are things to do in a pub if you live in it:

Dom, 29, said: ‘I moved in just a couple of months before lockdown which has worked out well, considering.’ He is the assistant manager at the pub after starting there as a barman and has been passing the time with Steve, 39, by playing improvised crazy golf inside. They place chess and cook barbecues on the roof when the weather is nice and have been enjoying the fresh beer on tap with no customers to serve.

When will the pub return? Cookie himself says in England it might happen in steps – but is that fair to the little loved places?

A staggered pub opening strategy could see large chain pubs with app ordering and table service and capacity for social distance open first as a trial an then traditional pubs open around xmas and micropubs by summer 2021.

Future forecasting done. For this week’s look at somewhat recent history, the blogwerk** at Seeing the Lizards continues with this installment on the Dutch lager of the 1980’s Oranjeboom 8.5:

Belying it’s current reputation a black-tinned cornershop-stocked super-strength filth, Oranjeboom pilsner was once quite popular in the UK, and was promoted with ads such as this, rammed full of all the Dutch stereotypes the copywriters could think of.

In other history notes, Martyn has been tweeting about gruesome deaths in breweries of yore, a crushing and a boiling so far.

And in very very recent history, Pellicle has published a piece by Will Hawkes on a trip to a hop farm in Kent in 2019… which all seems like a dream to me now:

It’s the end of July, the start of a key period in the Kentish hop-growing calendar. August is when the volume of the harvest is decided: plenty of sun and rain, and all will be well. But rain, like sunshine, cannot be conjured or cajoled. In 2018, during the UK’s hottest summer on record, just 15 millimetres came in August, and the harvest suffered. The year before there was 95mm and it produced the best yield that Haffenden Farm, Hukins’ family plot, has seen in 100 years.

This twitter thread promises an academic dissection of the imagery on a can of sorta Chicago‘s Old Style beer.  But it is exceedingly silly.

Escaping the Covid-Blase** Beth Demmon has shared a wonderful portrait of one of the world’s most accomplished beer judges – and in doing so has explained a fair bit about what being one of the world’s most accomplished beer judges means:

Cockerham took her first exam in March 2007 and steadily moved up the hierarchy. In 2012, the same year she achieved Master level, she also became an official mead judge. She reached Grand Master in 2014 and has moved one level higher each year since. And last year, she reached her current level of Grand Master VI. She also became a certified cider judge in April 2019 and is currently the Midwest region representative and assistant exam director with Gail Milburn, whom she laughingly calls her “best beer friend, my BBFF.”

See, that is way better an explanation that the “I went to a fest in [pick a country] and saw all my pals… and we got into it… and it was fun… and some of us made the judging session” sort of tale we see more often.

The Beer Nut himself reached his fifteenth anniversary as a beer blogger this week and celebrated with a beer from Ontario:

Like an increasing number of people, this blog is spending its birthday in lockdown. Happy 15th oulfella. To mark the occasion I have retrieved something from the cellar that, honestly, I meant to drink a while ago and now seems the perfect excuse. I bought this bottle of The Exchange Δ Spontaneous Ale when I was at the brewery in Niagara on the Lake in 2018. It came lauded by local expert David Sun Lee, with a recommendation that it be let sit for a year before opening. Well, it got that, and a bit more.

And finally this week, at Boak and Bailey, Jess herself shared a review of Mûre Tilquin, a lambic with 260g blackberries per litre and it turns out she is a bit of a fan of the fruit:

I have Strong Opinions about them, too. For example, I strongly believe that urban blackberries are better than rural ones and that the best of all come from Walthamstow Marshes; should have Protected Designation of Origin status; and ought to be the subject of lengthy essays about terroir.

I like that. very pro-blackberry. Fight! And keep writing and keep reading. Check in with Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes on a Friday posts at The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. There’s the AfroBeerChick  podcast as well! And have a look at Brewsround‘s take on the beer writing of the week. Thanks for stopping by.

**Name twelve!!!
**Not an actual German word.

A Thursday Beer News Update For An Even Sadder Week

Another week in lock down. What is there to say? Things are moving along a bit of a path, maybe showing a bit of the light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe. I hope the world hasn’t turned too upside down where you are. Things are looking a bit better in Rye, England where as we see above James Jeffrey has created the  “Beer Delivery by Stonch!“* service. I’m not sure of the legalities of it all but how lovely to get a couple of pints of fresh drawn ale delivered from the pub.  We’ve had new laxer laws pub in place here so no doubt there are more novel opportunities out there to be discussed.

The new home delivery here in Ontario has been so successful that some breweries are now being drained:

Thirsty Ottawans in lockdown are drinking beer faster than local breweries can produce it, causing some to run dry of their most popular varieties. The demand for canned beer is keeping some breweries afloat during the economic slowdown caused by the COVID-19 pandemic. “We’re definitely moving beer faster now,” said Laura Behzadi, co-founder of Bicycle Craft Brewery. “Our beers will sell out in a day or two, sometimes three.” Like many craft beer breweries and brew pubs across the province, Bicycle has shifted solely to taking orders online since public health officials in Ontario commanded restaurants to close in mid-March.

Not every brewery has been able to adapt as Britain’s Left Handed Giant shared in detail:

Aim no 1 has been to try to find new revenue streams after the loss of both our bars, and around 85% of trade custom. All bars are shut and as such all trade we used to sell to wholesalers and bars direct has dried up. Worryingly very little of the beer we sold on credit through the early part of the year has now been paid for. Most bars and shops that have been shut have closed their books and are unable to pay. So not only have we lost current trade, we are staring at the possibility of losing the revenue generated from sales before the crisis even began. We are still paying our bills so we have hugely negative cash flow. All the money we owed going out, but very little of what’s owed coming in.

I do find the folk writing about today’s new situation the most interesting.  By the way, here is great writing advice from Al Purdy, who wrote this. And this was my favorite tweet this week about the change:

Living next to a pub, I’m used to late-night revellers shouting but what really annoyed me was the chap who would imitate an owl hoot around 2.30am every night. Now pubs are shut I realise the hooting still goes on and it’s not a drunk. It is actually an owl.

Looking for something to do? Now you can volunteer to transcribe records on line with the Archives of the Province of Nova Scotia! Might be something about beer in them there archives. I wrote a paper in law school in that there building on the Court of Vice-Admiralty cases 1750 to 1760 on liquor violations. See, the local pre-Cajun Acadians liked their brandy but the conquering British wanted them to buy rum. It all ended up badly.

And while I want to hear about today, the odd post about what is missed is good, this one about a beer garden once visited in Germany:

I find myself thinking back to Bamberg. It was the height of summer and the middle of a Europe-wide heat wave with the sorts of temperatures that I, as a woman from the North of England, rarely come across; high 30s, each step an effort and bringing with it waves of exhaustion. We climb up a hill on the outskirts of town. It feels steeper than it is, the progress takes longer than it should and I grumble that it better be worth it.

Did I mention I wrote an actual post last weekend about actual brewing history? Dorchester Ale!!! Or beer… Dorchester Ale and Beer!!!!

Matthew L has continued his revivalist blogging (when he is not working to stock grocery shelves) with his admission that, along with Paisley patterned shirts, he has a thing for that thing Buckfast:

For me, the past two weeks have been like this – get up, go to work, stay there till Midnight (for maximum social distancing), go home, eat, have a few beers and go back to bed.  The thing about this routine, is you have very little to look forward too at the end of the week.  Basically, it’s the same as a work day, only without the work. And as such, you try to find the smallest thing about your old life to hang onto.  With me, it will be Buckfast Sunday.  Let me explain – every Sunday at 3pm, myself and few other regulars at a local micropub have a glass of the infamous Buckfast Tonic wine.  Like all the best traditions, nobody really knows how it started (or even how a craft beer focused bar ended up stocking notorious Ned juice). 

ATJ created a very interesting participatory project when he tweeted this and received many answers to his hypothesis:

Doing some research on regional beer styles, it’s my belief that the idea of regional differences in beer preferences has all but died out in the UK but am willing to be proved wrong if anyone has any examples. Be good to read all views based on personal experiences.

Robsterowski’s reply was practically haiku… or maybe half a sonnet: “Golden, flinty bitter in West Yorkshire. Sweet yet hoppy golden bitter in the West Midlands. Heavy in Scotland. Lightly flavoured quaffing bitter in Cumbria.” There are more than fifty other responses. Worth the read.

A timely joke…

Finally, as if things could not be worse, they did. As I mentioned last weekend on the bits of social media  I use, I have been particularly struck by the horrible news from Nova Scotia because the crimes occurred where I used to live. The roads around Portapique were where I worked in high school and undergrad summer jobs, doing maintenance jobs in senior citizen housing or working up dirt roads piling pulp wood. Where we had summer beach parties, one of which included a pal’s car floating in the sea after being caught parked too near the world’s highest tides. School friends lived there along the northern shore of the Minas Basin. Some now back retired forty years later. Terrible. I mark this here to remember how it happened in a week like any other week, when we were already dealing with rotten news.

Having said that, we do know that things will be better and another day and week is coming. Keep writing and keep reading. Check in with Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes on a Friday posts at The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. There’s the AfroBeerChick  podcast as well! And have a look at Brewsround‘s take on the beer writing of the week. Thanks for stopping by.

Wouldn’t We All Prefer A Nice Quart of Dorchester Ale… Or Beer?

Have my mentioned my last two and a half years have been a bit of a blur at work?  The history blogging has suffered.  But it’s always the things we hold most dear that fall away, aren’t they.  Well, as I expect is the case with you, it’s a bit quieter in the evenings around here so I thought I would pull out some of the delayed research and have a look at Dorchester Ale and Beer starting with a summary of the known information to date.  First, if you look at this notice in The Literary Gazette of 1819, you will see something that is apparent from the research: there is both Dorchester Ale and Dorchester Beer.  For purposes of this bit of writing, I am not going to get into the distinction but it is important to note that they likely were not synonyms.

Dorchester is the county town of Dorset, which sits on the middle of the bottom of England on the Channel. Daniel Defoe praised it in his book A tour thro’ the whole island of Great Britain (1724–26):

“The town is populous, tho’ not large, the streets broad, but the buildings old, and low; however, there is good company and a good deal of it; and a man that coveted a retreat in this world might as agreeably spend his time, and as well in Dorchester, as in any town I know in England…”

Dorchester was a key departure port for Puritans emigrating to New England in the 1600s. Dorchester beer was popular before and after the American Revolution from at least the 1760s in New York City to the early 1800s. It is not mentioned by Locke in 1674. There was a song about it published in 1784 praising its power to even sooth political disunion.  Coppinger described its ingredients in this way in the 1815 edition of his fabulously named book The American Practical Brewer and Tanner:

      • 54 Bushels of the best Pale Malt.
      • 50 lb. of the best Hops.
      •   1 lb. of Ginger.
      •   ¼ of a lb. of Cinnamon, pounded.

So, a spiced pale ale says he. You can figure out the 54 bushel to 14 barrel ratio but his version of it does not look like super strong stuff.  That would seem to go against the cross-Atlantic shipping market for it so we can think about that a bit more. Or we can turn to North American’s best beer writer who doesn’t write book nor blog, Gerry Lorentz, who added a great whack of information in a comment left at this here blog posted in October 2018 which I add here in full simply because I can:

I’m sure that Dorchester beer probably didn’t stay constant over the centuries. Coppinger’s recipes contain a long list of additives, so that fact that he says Dorchester beer contained ginger and cinnamon probably doesn’t amount to much. Friederich Accum indicated that “Dorchester Beer is usually nothing else than Bottled Porter,” this coming after a discussion of Old Hock, or white porter. In Observations on the Diseases in Long Voyages to Hot Climates (1775), John Clark also indicated that Dorchester beer was similar to porter. He discussed “country beer,” noting it as one of “the usual diluters” of meals for the fashionable sort in India: “Country beer is made by mixing one part Dorchester beer, or porter, with two or more parts of water.” Others writers viewed Dorchester beer as similar to brown stout. One early twentieth-century researcher looking to get more information on Dorchester Beer put out a question in Notes and Queries in 1905 asking about a footnote in William Gawler’s 1743 poem, Dorchester, that indicated that “an eminent Dealer in Dorchester Beer, now living in London, reckons amongst his Customers the late Czar, the Kings of Prussia and Denmark, as well as his late and present Majesty of Great Britain,” which points to a Baltic trade similar to porter.

Both William Ellis in the London and Country Brewer (1837) and John Farley in The London Art of Cookery, 7th edition (1792) point out the “chalky water” used in making Dorchester beer. Farley writes that “The Dorchester beer, which is so much admired, is, for the most part brewed of chalky water, which is almost every where in that county ; and as the soil is generally chalk.” So, perhaps it had some Burtonesque qualities to it.

Thomas Hardy probably has the best, and least helpful, description of Dorchester Beer in his book The Trumpet Major, in which he states: “It was of the most beautiful colour that the eye of an artist in beer could desire; full in body, yet brisk as a volcano; piquant, yet with a twang; luminous as an autumn sunset; free from streakiness of taste, but finally, rather heady. The masses worshipped it, and the minor gentry loved it better than wine, and by the most illustrious country families it was not despised.”

Excellent. Clearly a strongish ale. And Gerry is always right. I would but quibble the slightest bit about the qualities “Burtonesque” but I have my own theory about the vomit inducing levels of sulfur that spawned that region’s Satanically hopped styles a generation or two earlier that Dorchester rose into popularity.

In the 1922 book Thomas Hardy’s Dorset, by R.T. Hopkins, we read

Dorchester has now lost its fame for brewing beer. But about 1725 the ale of this town acquired a very great name. In Byron’s manuscript journal (since printed by the Chetham Society) the following entry appears:

“May 18, 1725. I found the effect of last night drinking that foolish Dorset, which was pleasant enough, but did not at all agree with me, for it made me stupid all day.”

A mighty local reputation had “Dorchester Ale,” and it still commands a local influence, for this summer I was advised by the waiter of the Phoenix Hotel to try a bottle of “Grove’s Stingo” made in the town. It is a potent beverage–and needs to be treated with respect, to be drunk slowly and in judicious moderation.

Hopkins continues with the same passage from Thomas Hardy that Gerry L. noted in his comment, above, as well as others from Hardy as well as a mid-1700s song “The Brown Jug” that references a Dorchester Butt as a measure of at least one lad’s girth.

Acknowledging the love-hate relationship we have with records, the earliest i have found Dorchester Ale is recorded as being delivered to North America relates to a shipment to Virginia mentioned in a letter dated, oddly, June 28th and July 25th 1727 from one Robert Carter to Edward Tucker, the latter of whom died in 1739, merchant of Weymouth, Dorset who served as mayor in 1705, 1716, 1721, 1725, and 1735, and also as a member of Parliament:

…Your Portland is gon to York to fill up I have Six hhds of my Crop Tobbo: on board her which Sent you a bill of Lading had Russell bin at liberty to have Sent a Sloop for this Tobbo: he might have got redy for this Fleet I must desire you to Send me in the next year in one of your Ships a hogshead of your fine Dorchester Ale well and Carefully bottled of and under very good Package Your Master Britt will tell you how I was abused in the last. The Southam Cyder the Portland brought me I doubt will never be fine it is not yet Bottled If you can Send me a hogshead of it in bottles that is right good Such as I had two Years ago, it would [be] Acceptable but in Cask I will have no more I am with a great deal of Sincerity…

Hmm… it is fine and worth being shipped. In 1752, Frances Monday was before the judge in London’s Old Bailey indicted for that she assaulted John Hall and stole from him one half guinea in gold.  The evidence of Hall begins thusly:

Last Thursday se’nnight I had been in the Borough, staid late, and was in liquor. I could not get into my lodgings in Grey’s-Inn-lane. I was going from thence to Westminster to an acquaintance there, and passing by the new church in the Strand this woman came cross the way to me and asked me to go with her and drink some Dorchester ale. I went to a place which she said was the Black Swan between the new church and Exeter Change. I drank but one glass of beer. She then asked me to give her some shrub. which I did, and a bottle to take home with her.

Ms. Monday was acquitted based on her alternate version of events, backed by witnesses: “The gentleman made me a present of it. After he had what he desired of me, he said he would have it again, or he’d swear a robbery against me.” So… perhaps a sort of beer that was name dropped perhaps to show a bit of unwarranted class?

In his MA thesis for the Université de Sherbrooke submitted April 2014, Mathieu Perron stated that Dorchester ale (or beer) was mentioned among numerous other beers in the notices published in La Gazette de Québec during the early years after the fall of New France:

De 1764 à 1774, sur 28 mentions relatives à la bière dans les petites annonces de La Gazette de Québec, 15 occurrences appartiennent à la catégorie « Porter », le restant étant réparti entre différents Malt Liquor. Ces bières (Dorchester Ale/Beer, Yorchester Ale, Taunton Ale, Welch Ale) aux degrés d’alcool élevés, génèreusement houblonnées,  raditionnellement consommées par les classes moyennes anglaises, attestent du transfert des habitudes de consommation chez les classes marchandes de la province…

Fabulous references to the variety available to the military elite in that garrison town.  And I need to see the ad for “Yorchester” ale now.

Further south, in his diary of 1775-76, the Reverend Dr. Samuel Cooper, pastor of the Brattle Street Church in Boston, Massachusetts – a bit of a coffee fiend –  records being treated to “a Glass of Dorchester Ale” on one occasion as he made his way around his fellow revolutionaries in Boston during its bombardment by the British.

After the war, as part of reparations claims which were made with various degrees of success, Henry Howell Williams a 1775 tenant on Noddles Island in Boston Harbour claimed for goods “Destroyed by a Detatchment of the American Army or Carried off by said Detatchment, for the Use of the United States” claimed just in terms of the liquor in his cellar:

3 Barrls. Cyder 36/2 Q. Casks Wine 220
1 Dozn. Ditto Bottled		 1412.–
1 Hamper Dorchester Ale. 6 Dozn. Excellent Cyder 3.16.–
3 Dozn. Carrl. Wine 1 keg Methegalin Sweet Oyle &c. 6:4:–
2 Hogsheads Old Jamaica Spirit 231 Gallns @ 5/- 57.15.–
3 Hogsheads New Rum Just got home from the
W. Indies Quanty. 234 Gallons a 3/4-		 39:0:0

Which seems like a lot – and also places Dorchester Ale in fine company.* And on both sides of the Revolution in Puritan Boston, a century and a half after being founded by Dorset folk.

At about the same time back in England but on the same end of the cannon demographically speaking as Mr. Williams of Noddles Island, we read about a pleasure garden named Jenny’s Whim in the Pimlico area of London, “a very favorite place of amusement for the middle classes”:

This feature of the garden is specially mentioned in a short and slight sketch of the place to be found in the Connoisseur of March 15th, 1775:—”The lower part of the people have their Ranelaghs and Vauxhalls as well as ‘the quality.’ Perrott’s inimitable grotto may be seen for only calling for a pint of beer; and the royal diversion of duck-hunting may be had into the bargain, together with a decanter of Dorchester [ale] for your sixpence at ‘Jenny’s Whim.'”

Then things get all scientific. In the 1797 essay “Experiments and Observations on Fermentation and Distillation of Ardent Spirit” by Joseph Collier the pre- and post-fermentation densities of four type of beer are described: Porter, Ringwood Ale, Dorchester Ale and Table Beer. It is interesting. Of course it is. If it was not interesting why would I have mentioned. it? The author uses a “saccharometer” like this. Without knowing the details of the calibration or the scale, the relative ratio is enough to tell us that Dorchester is sweet and a bit strong, a bit more than double that of Table beer. Dorchester drops 39 degrees of the “whatever scale” where Table beer drops 18. Ringwood drops 44 degrees but has a final gravity that is two-thirds of Dorchester.  Notice too that these are “the most celebrated malt liquors” – which is interesting.

In an 1816 German text entitled Jenaische allgemeine literatur-zeitung, Volume 3, it is listed in another list of English ales. I include the whole passage because it’s pretty interesting as a snapshot of the times. Ron or someone cleverer that I will be able to translate but quite neato to see the references to Queen’s ale and Wittshire ale . 

More science. In 1829, Dorcehster Ale is listed in the book Description and Use of the Brewer’s Sacchatometer as having a “proportion of alcohol” of 5.56 which placed it below Burton and Edinburgh Ale and above London Porter.

Does it start to become faded? After his fall from grace and the financial support of the Regent, Beau Brummell exiled in Calais in the 1820s was said to drink it according to this 1860s account and an 1855 article in Harpers:

 Not even for Lord Westmoreland, his creditor for frequent loans, would the Man of Fashion consent to “feed” at an earlier hour. Being a pauper, Dorchester ale, with a petit verre, and a bottle of the best claret were his usual beverage when alone; but he counted largely on invitations to dinner from passing Englishmen. As he grew older, gluttony grew upon him; ho had not the heart to refuse an invitation, no matter what the hour of ” feeding.”

In Slaters Directory 1852/3 it was written:

The spinning of worsted yarn and the manufacture of woollen goods , formerly ranked as the staple here; but these branches have greatly declined, if they are not entirely lost – blanketing and fiuscy being the only articles now manufactured. Dorchester ale has long been famed, and it still maintains a superior character; the mutton of this district is liekwise held in great and general estimation. 

The same source for that text has a helpful page on one Robert Galpin of Fordington in the County of Dorset, Brewer, which give a helpful sense of scale of brewing operations then or at least his operation at the time.

What to make of it all?  Dorchester Ale / Beer appear to be a Georgian thing that arcs in parallel to Burton and Nottingham, coming after 1600s and early 1700s strong English ales like Lambeth, Derby, Hull and Northdown/Margate.  Like Taunton, it is exported to North America and perhaps elsewhere in the colonies. It is not as strong as others and seems to have chalky water with a pronounced residual sweetness.  Premium while not necessarily being a headbanger.

Interesting also to note how these strong pale ales named after the city or region in which they were brewed generally (but not exclusively) fit between (i) the Medieval and Tudor pattern of naming beers according to their heft: half-penny, two penny, double double and (ii) the brewer branded beer, scientifically made proto-styles we start seeing beginning in the 1800s. Like the climactic observations on the reason French bread in great in the recent excellent article in the New Yorker “Baking Bread in Lyon“, they would have been remarkable for some local characteristic that set them apart.

I will have to organize these posts on English Stuart and Georgian era regional strong pale ales into some better categorizations. They need an umbrella term. They are not styles in the same sense as their predecessors or their descendants. But they were clearly recognizable and sought out for their prestige.

*And I trust that table rendered well at your end of the internets.

These Are The Mid-April Thursday Beery News Notes

Do we really need more beer? Olive Veronesi from Pennsylvania did. I’ve had five boxes of beer delivered over the last month or more as well as a case of wine. All local. But Olive wanted Coors Light. Olive got her beer. Direct. Everyone and everything is rearranging supply chains. New things are starting up here and there but work is stopping elsewhere and folk are furloughed. Thankfully, no 1949 pub cars on trains yet.

The Brewers Association has cancelled the World Beer Cup and taken the clever step of turning all samples into sanitizer:

With a warehouse full of beer slated for a canceled World Beer Cup competition, the Brewers Association had a dilemma—what to do with the beer. With social distancing measures and distribution laws in place, returning shipments infeasible, and inability to refrigerate the entries long-term, the options were limited… On Monday, a handful of Brewers Association staff and volunteers, led by BA executive chef Adam Dulye, began emptying thousands of cans and bottles of competition beer into 275 gallon totes and delivered the first batch of 1,500 gallons to the distilleries.

Beer judging is a bit like the dis-unified world title boxing organizations these days. Apparently there is also a thing called the World Beer Awards. They are not as of yet turning the beer into san-zi-hizer.* Think I will invent the World Beer Awards Cup.

The question of rat fink etiquette in these troubled times was the basis of a story coming out of Kent in England which was explained a scene in a local beer garden in this way:

“The same four members of staff have been working at the pub during the lockdown and we have been very strict on that – we have too much to lose to make mistakes. They were sitting down to eat their lunch, hence why they were not wearing gloves at the time.”

My take is, unfortunately, this was a clash of reasonable actions. The pub stays open to serve the community in as safe a way as possible and community members need to know it is OK to ask if the actions of others are keeping everyone safe.

Retired Martin provided us with a similar session from the pre-times but with one difference: more drunk members of the affluent end of society who prove that ai nice country pub garden is “where you get the upper-class intoxication the middle-classes just can’t pull off“!

From brewing history, a lovely tale from the early days of the new American republic of the first elephant that sailed to the USA in 1796 – and her love of beer:

…the America was reportedly understaffed and under-stocked. Halfway through their trip, Crowninshield and his crew ran out of clean drinking water and were forced to give the elephant a dark ale, or porter, which is a heavy liquor made with browned malt. Other stories report that Crowninshield charged his New York spectators 25 cents to watch the elephant uncork and drink the dark beer…  the elephant uncorked the bottles with her trunk and would consume 30 bottles of porter a day.

Speaking of history, the Tandyman has been rummaging through his safe house and posting things he finds in storage – like this early reference to trendy new hazy beer from twenty years ago:

Today’s breweriana comes under the heading “Things I didn’t know I had”. A spirited defence of hazy beer by @marblebrewers.  Not dated, but I’m guessing around Year 2000. Happy to be corrected. 

And if you go back another 14 years, you will find the time John Clarke wrote about – a 12 pub crawl through Stockport in 1976:

I edit an award-winning local CAMRA magazine called Opening Times.  It was launched in June 1984 and has continued with only a couple of minor breaks (including the current one!) even since.  However this isn’t its first incarnation. A previous Opening Times appeared from around Feb-March 1976 to June-July 1977 and that’s where we are going today.

And speaking of more history, Gary has posted an interesting series of posts on British beer and British Burma:

Turning to the Second World War, beer again produces a story so outré one thinks only a novelist could have conceived it. It is the so-called mobile brewery introduced by Lord Louis Mountbatten (1900-1979). He was Supreme Allied Commander, South East Asia Command, between 1943 and 1946. This brewery is specifically associated with Burma, although it may have been fielded elsewhere. The beer was intended for forward fighting units, not rest and recreation centres or other rear areas.

We had a nice email chat and discussed lentils.

Still with history, a beer jug from British North America in 1766, noticed care of Craig’s sharp eye on Facebook.

Last week, Ed posted something I like, something of a recent memory, a trigger for a good pointless argument:

In these difficult times it has been encouraging to see many people return to beer blogging. But there has been a noticeable lack of pointless arguments, which as we know is what the internet is for. So you’ll be pleased to hear I spotted in article in the IBD magazine where a German brewer gives his views on extraneous CO2. Always good for a pointless argument that.

Lars posted about a similar technical issue without all the argumentation – mainly because he used three options to figure out how to brew keptinis:

I visited Vikonys in Lithuania and saw how the Lithuanians there brew keptinis. The basic idea is straightforward enough: do a normal mash, then bake the mash in a huge Lithuanian duonkepis oven to get caramel flavours by toasting the sugars in the mash. This is important idea, because it’s a completely “new” type of brewing process that creates flavours you cannot make with normal techniques.

The hot news of the week is that the #BrewsBrothers show on Netflix really sucks. Jonathon started with this:

Just watched an episode of Brews Brothers on Netflix and if you value your life and the minutes you have left, you should probably use that time to watch anything else. Anything. You could go outside and watch bugs have sex or just lay face down on the ground and watch that.

We are told. It is garbage. Mr. B made it through 8 minutes and 38 seconds. I shall not bother.

And finally, Jordan spent time this last seven days of favorite pubs he is missing and included one of mine… and included a picture of me at the Kingston Brew Pub!

I’m fairly certain I had Dragon’s Breath Pale Ale for the first time in 1996. I would have been 16 at the time, and while I’d love to tell you that it was a moment when the heavens opened and Gambrinus reached down and tapped me on the shoulder, but really, I was more impressed with the lamb burger.

I take my lamb burger with blue cheese there.

Another week in the books. Remember there is more out there. Keep writing and keep reading. Check in with Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes on a Friday posts at The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. There’s the AfroBeerChick podcast as well! And have a look at Brewsround‘s take on the beer writing of the week. Laters!

*As known chez nous.

Here Be Yon Beery News Notes As Easter Weekend Approacheth

Another quiet day. Sitting at home. My butt is in a state of perpetual “sat too much” ache now. I better lay down for a bit to see if it goes away. On the upside, the over-wintered carrots have been crisp and sweet. Gotta eat them now before they start to convert and prepare for flowering. As shown above, I saw bees this week. Wild ones I think. Grabbing all there was to be gotten from the flower of a willow tree, the catkin turning in one last very slow fireworks display.

Beer… hmm… where to start… Jordan posted an interesting proposal to encourage the use of locally grown hop in Ontario.

This is Ontario. It is four times the size of Great Britain. A run from Windsor to Vankleek Hill would take eight hours if you adhered to the speed limit and there weren’t any delays on the 401. The idea that there is such a thing as an Ontario specific cultivar is nonsensical. We’ve already established that Hallertau grown in Germany and New Zealand is different. The Huron Coast isn’t Tillsonburg isn’t The Golden Horseshoe isn’t Prince Edward County isn’t The Ottawa River Valley.  There are microclimates and different substrates and soils and aquifers.

I was helpful in the comments, adding the 1948 soils mapping links as the land and its crops know nothing of county boundaries as well as questioning the insta-profession of sensory professional.  I like it but find a way to fill that not with self-identified volunteers and then add a mechanism for shared calibration and I might buy in completely. Sadly one response suffers from that old suffocating chestnut Jordan is working so hard to break, the closed circle: “… This is far to complex of an issue to describe in a fb box – so lets chat off-line. I’ll send you my contact info…” Open discussion is better discussion.

Next, Lars has two bits of big news. First, the gong bomb:

I got the tip-off from Jørund Geving, a farmhouse brewer in Stjørdal. He’d gotten into a random conversation with a farmer from Ål in Hallindal, who said there were people there who still brewed. That’s in eastern Norway, so that was remarkable news in itself: a new brewing region! But then he dropped the real bombshell: these guys had their own yeast, which they called gong.  This was really exciting, because so far, every brewer in western Norway who has his own yeast has turned out to have yeast that belongs to a single family, which we call kveik. 

This is interesting. In the post pandemic retracted world of post-craft, will gong become at thing? Then Lars wrote something on Wednesday that saddened me: “Writing ~7000 beer reviews on @ratebeer was basically my education. Here my rating notebooks, before they go in the trash.” They might deserve keeping. Nice floor, though. Norwegian wood.

Tom Morton, a well loved radio hand in Scotland, has written a useful piece about drinking in the new era of social media pubs:

Twitter is one of those horrible airport departure lounge bars on a (pre-virus) bank holiday Friday night or Saturday morning. You’ve got everything there from stag parties breakfasting on Special Brew to ginned-up delegates for a conference in Estonia on Signifiers of Loss and Alienation in The Later Works of S Club Seven. There are sherried tourists, single-malted fish farmers, absinthed sales executives. There are the brilliant and the fuckwitted, and they’re all shouting, all grabbing your arm, all breathing fumes into your face. Ninety-nine percent of them are talking shite.

A few more months and I might be with him. Meantime, the social experiment (for those who are not directly fighting as patient or caregiver, of course) is interesting.

Corona tricks during corona time.

Some more blogs are back up and running  – and what I like about them best is the immediate reflection on what is happening around us. Not recollections of the pub or desperate attempts to maintain the consultancy micro-payments as if nothing were happening. First, Matthew Lawrenson at Seeing the Lizards told the tale from the shelf stocking floor:

…that is why I had that Thursday off.  It was likely the last time I’d be able to go out for the forseeable future.  I packed my bottle of isopropanol (usually used for cleaning electronics, but hand sanitiser had long ago run out) and went to town.  And yes, dear reader, I got absolutely hammered.  Buckfast, Bud Light, evil keg filth, cask ale, spirits.  I had it all that night.  I even went to Spoons.  I’m glad I did, as on Friday afternoon, the Government announced that all pubs were to close from midnight. After that, back to work it was.  Prioritising lines, moving labels around to maximise fill, watching pasta and toilet rolls vanish in minutes.  All the usual panic buying fun and games. 

And Old Mudgie wrote a very interesting argument lamenting the loss of cash that is being caused by Covid-19 and the implications for the bankless in pubs and beyond:

It is estimated that there are 1.6 million unbanked workers in the UK, and there must be many other non-workers who have no access to banking facilities. While there may be technological solutions that can address this issue, their interests cannot simply be breezily dismissed. Added to this, there are many people, not by any means entirely elderly, who have a strong preference for using cash and are uneasy about card payments, even though they may theoretically be available to them. Is it reasonable to ride roughshod over their wishes in the name of progress?

In the past, I have been grumpy about the US Brewers Association (as it seems to want to fill the role that CAMRA plays in the UK, just without all those pesky consumers) but the Bart has been doing a great job running the numbers through this crisis:

The first analysis of our second COVID-19 impact survey is done, and the numbers aren’t pretty. 2.5% of breweries say they are going to close. 12.7% say they have a month or less based on current conditions.

Right off, I was wondering how far off the normal annual churn 2.5% closures might represent. And to stay that tide, the BA also announced that what they are calling #CBCOnline starts on this coming Easter Monday:

…a five-week virtual version of CBC including 40 of our educational seminars across all 14 CBC tracks.

I am most interested as all you all all will be to hear Dr. J speak on the topic of “Real Talk: Performing Cultural Climate Audits to Benchmark Organizational Inclusion, Equity, and Justice.” Audits. Excellent. Like having calibration for sensory experience. Doing something real.

Similarly, there are plenty of opportunities to improve one’s wine knowledge during these days of sheltering in the shed. And if you have something to share, there is also a Beeronomics call for papers.

And finally Pellicle published an excellent piece by Jonny Garrett on the Old Fountain pub on Old Street in London (just a bit to the east of my beloved Golden Lane) and the family that has kept it in operation:

They were never tied, but the Durrant’s still leased the pub from Whitbread, who in turn leased it from the local parish church, St Luke’s. It seems the church mistrusted Whitbread and had only been granting it three-year terms. The family had kept a close eye on the situation and, in the early 2000s, an opportunity presented itself. After decades of renewal without gaining a lease extension, Whitbread decided to give up the lease and offered Jim another pub.

Now, I want to know why and for how long the church owned that parcel of land on Old Street. Let the mapping begin!

There you are – but one last thing. A new news round up has sit the presses. Brewsround has started commenting on the beer writing of the week. That/they/her/him/thems/the bot joins the beer news broadcasts we follow each and every week with Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes on a Friday posts at The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. There’s the AfroBeerChick podcast as well! Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. Stay well.

The Thursday Beery News Notes For Week Three… I Think… Maybe

It’s now April so I think we may be well into the third week of the kids at home and limited public travel. The working life of a municipality has been fairly breakneck but we are all in this together.  Not much time for either the beer or the blog… which puts a bit of a damper on beer blogging. But, as with last week, beer has again be delivered – this time from our own and excellent Stone City Ales where the staff have been heroes* – so let’s see what we can find, shall we?

There are a lot of brave positive statements being made in the beer trade out there, this sort of thing found in the spam filter included:

With the number of breweries, tasting rooms, restaurants and bars closed across the country, we want to remind you that retailers such as grocery stores and bottles shops currently remain a viable way to shop for beverages while practicing social distancing. We also encourage the use of online delivery services as a responsible option in those states where available.

This is good but, at some point, also unnecessary for every point in the supply chain to issue.  We are probably at that point.  The messaging now needs to be stay in place and see you at the other end when the shift in the industry can be reassessed. Me, I hope this new home delivery in Ontario becomes a norm.

On Wednesday, Jordan posted a piece on how the virus and staying in place was affecting one of the less unloved sectors in the beer trade, contract brewers:

Contract Brewing is a fraught subject, but preserving the companies that are doing it has an upside in the face of this 12 week lockdown that the city of Toronto has imposed. There are a number of existing companies that depend on the contracts to fill their volume. Junction Brewing produces both Paniza and True History. Storyteller is produced at Brunswick in Toronto. If those contracting companies fail, there is a knock on effect which causes a decrease in volume at those larger facilities. 

A wee bit of brewing history was discussed last weekend when reports came out of a stash of Victorian era beer found in a UK archaeological dig at a former site of Tetley’s Brewery:

Buried treasure isn’t always the stereotypical chest of gold coins: In the case of a recent British archaeological dig, it turned out to be an enormous stash of beer. Last month, while digging on the site of the former Tetley’s Brewery, in the Northern English city of Leeds, archaeologists from the West Yorkshire Archaeological Services (WYAS) discovered a neatly-stacked stash of over 600 bottles — many of which were still full…

Not sure I want to drink any of the stuff. Moving to the eye on the near future, Stan released the latest issued of his regular newsletter on the state of a key corner of the trade, Hop Queries.  It included this passage on the state of hop farming as Covid-19 moves through the marketplace:

Brewers hope to be in a better position to make predictions for the rest of 2020 before long, but hops are agriculture and farmers can’t wait. As Gayle Goschie at Goschie Farms in Oregon wrote, “Mother Nature has her calendar and we coordinate our needed seasonal work around what the year’s weather brings us.” Although she and the office team are working from home, field work is continuing at normal pace. “Having 40-50 employees spread over 500 acres of hops has us practicing social distancing to the max.”

Back to today, the man called Protz wrote about an age-old question – why is UK cask ale so modestly priced:

I disagree with James Calder on the need to “premiumise” – ugly word — real ale. I cannot accept that cask beer should be seen as the drink of choice of the better-off. It was clear to me that one reason the Wat Tyler in Dartford was busy on a damp, cold Tuesday lunchtime in March was that its captive audience was made up of people who couldn’t afford more than £3.50 for a pint.

Also with a thumb on the pulse of the moment, on Monday Bart of the BA sent out some stats showing a shift in US beer sales was clearly occurring, with the theme being “all beer up“!

IRI scan data from the week ending 3-22 is in & it was another big week for off-premise as consumers stocked up and replaced on-premise purchases. BA Craft up 31.1% by volume versus the same week YA. All beer up 30.7%.

And a wonderful story out of central New York state this week with those whose employment affected by the reduction of work doing the unexpected:

Four of the laid-off workers — tasting room managers Cassie Clack, Barb Lewis, Alanna Maher and Janelle Reale — had a surprise. They’d reached out to dozens and dozens of current and former tasting room staff at the winery and urged them to come together — or as together as they can under social distancing. Then they led a 70-car caravan to the winery at 623 Lerch Road to pick up the wines and beers they’d been ordering all week.

Good stuff. And there was more – as of Tuesday, like so many other craft beverage firms with a distiller’s kit, BrewDog had made a significant contribution to the fight against the virus:

Jill & Leanne, NHS Ambulance Service, picking up 1,000 bottles of free @BrewDog sanitiser today for their frontline team. We have donated over 100,000 bottles to key workers and charities so far.

And finally Ron the Honest has posted a number of posts about his recent junket to Brazil describing events as they were and perhaps not how they are always presented:

I’m up much earlier than I would have liked. 7 AM. As the car taking me and Martyn to where we’re talking is scheduled for 7:50. And I want to have time for brekkie. Martyn trolls up a few minutes after me.

“I don’t expect to see many judges at my talk. They’ll all still be in bed. Pissheads.”  “That’s a bit harsh, Ron.” “Count how many turn up. You’ve more chance as you’re on an hour later.”

Folk think I have a bug in my ear over this junket stuff but having been on a few way back when I primarily find it entertaining, especially as Ron describes it. More fun than productive. Like all these meetings we now know could have been emails. Except a good serving of fun with a side dish of the same small circle. But fun is good.

Remember – even in these troubled times – there is more beer news every week with Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes on a Friday posts at The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. There’s the AfroBeerChick podcast as well! Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. Keep hunkering! We got this.

Your Thursday Beer News Notes For The Week Which Was The Best Of Times And The Worst Of Times

What a week! And it’s not done yet. I’m working in isolation as many of you are while many others are not able to work. Here in Canada, a huge collective response is underway at the many levels of government and public compliance with sheltering in place is high. Neighbours are sharing with neighbours. It seems to be working well and I hope the same is true where you are.  Well, working well for the most part:

P.E.I. farmer keeps social distance by hurling pork products to hungry customers.

People are finding out how to make do in the beer world. I get by with a bit of the old bunting when the sun shines. The Polk is out on the porch, too  a sure sign of a Canadian spring.  The BA is looking into supply chains. Some aren’t. Some places it is about bounced paycheques. Andy wrote about the scene as of Monday and it ain’t pretty in the world of NuKraft:

With tap rooms closed, thousands of breweries around the country no longer have a source of income. Most don’t have their own canning or bottling equipment. They don’t have relationships with distributors or bars, restaurants, or off-premise stores. They never saw the need to diversify their operations because nothing could ever shut off their money maker, the customer at their own bar. 

My favourite so far is  (err… perhaps poorly) illustrated to the right, the Albany Pump Station driving around with a growler fill tap truck as Craig described:

Does your brewer show up at your house, with a trailer full of beer and fill growlers for you at 9pm? Mine does. C.H. Evans Brewing Albany Pump Station a buzz tomorrow and ask if Sam will Santa Claus over to your house tomorrow! $10 crowlers (or 3 for $20)!

In Ireland, an extra-legal approach to keeping the taps flowing has lead to a stern warning:

Publicans who have opened despite the Government’s direction that they close for two weeks due to the coronavirus pandemic have not only put the wider public at serious risk, they have also put their licences and livelihoods on the line, one of the State’s leading barristers has warned. Senior Counsel Constance Cassidy who specialises in liquor licence applications, told The Irish Times that although the closure guidelines issued last week “are merely directory in nature until specific regulatory legislation is introduced”, publicans have been ignoring them at their peril.

In my own town, newly opened Daft Brewing has, a bit by luck, joined the ranks of those making hand sans-a-hizer:

The company’s new-found ability to make the increasingly scarce hand sanitizer hinged on a decision to buy a 200-litre still from China. “At the time we were thinking we couldn’t get this cheaper and with free shipping, so we just bought it for future use,” Rondeau said. “We had no plans to use it. We’re not a distillery. We just had it sitting in storage.” Skip ahead to three days ago, after hearing about how distillers were switching production to hand sanitizer, and the company’s employees dragged the still out of storage.

The UK’s mass watering hole chain Wetherspoons appears to be rushing to the bottom according to Rog the Protz:

Just in case any of you were thinking the #TimMartin #Wetherspoons fiasco couldn’t get any worse (keep my businesses open no risk in pubs, laying off staff without pay “go & get a job in Tesco”) he’s now written to out of pocket suppliers they must wait at his pleasure to be paid

And just like that, the pure power of Protz proves its potency as the hairy dimwit running the place does a 180. Good news for the staff.

Next, a bit of history was made this week as Martyn wrote the tale of a very early and not much good porter brewery in the US state of Virginia – which might be the first but is certainly the earliest example so far of porter brewing on this side of the Atlantic*:

In 1766 the brewery made 550 bushels of malt, but the quality of much of the beer and ale produced was poor. Mercer wrote to his eldest son George that “Wales complains of my Overseer & says that he is obliged to wait for barley, coals & other things that are wanted which, if timely supplied with he could with six men & a boy manufacture 250 bushels a week which would clear £200 … My Overseer is a very good one & I believe as a planter equal to any in Virginia but you are sensible few planters are good farmers and barley is a farmer’s article.”

And Boak and Bailey have posted about one of my favourite forms of Victorian writing, the recollection of how things were in youth, that leads them on a chase for the meaning of Kennett Ale:

The novelist and historian Walter Besant’s 1888 book Fifty Years Ago is an attempt to record the details of life in England in the 1830s, including pubs and beer. Of course this doesn’t count as a primary source, even if 1888 is closer to 1838 than 2020. Besant was himself born in 1836 and the book seems laced with rosy nostalgia – a counterpoint, at least, to contemporary sources whose detail is distorted by temperance mania…

These sorts of writings were very handy as part of the patching together of the 1800s tales of Albany Ale and Cream Beer. I trust them as recollections in the way one trust evidence in a court proceeding. Something to build upon.

In the category of upside effect of pandemic, ATJ had dusted off Called to the Bar and is getting back in the blogging game as part of his isolation skills development program. His first new post was about his experience of “PSS” – pub separation syndrome:

Where shall I wander when I’m told if I’m old and need to be at home? At what shall I wonder if I cannot stroll alone? The cities and towns in which I clowned but also frowned and then classed glasses of brown, gold and amber beers with varying degrees of hwyl are closed to me for now. 

And Jeffery John himself has fired up the coal-fed servers and has Stonch’s Beer Blog running again:

Day one of being a pub landlord on Coronavirus lockdown: mothball the cellar; thoroughly clean lines; switch off all non-essential equipment.

Day two: turn the remote cooler back on again; connect a keg up to *just one* line for personal consumption.

Day three: get the ice machine going for 5pm G&Ts; decide it’s reasonable to have one IPA line and one lager line in operation for me and my cabin-mate.

JC’s Beer Blog is also revived. Any others?  We need to recall that blogging was one way that we got through the immediate aftermath of 9/11. It’s good to write.

In the world of not-beer, another positive out of the lock down of the planet appears to be the delay in releasing the next vintage of Bordeaux so that it will be first reviewing from the bottle not the cask:

Normally, tastings for the new vintage would take place at the end of this month and early April. Scores and reports would emerge at the end of April and into early May and the first wines, bar the odd wild outlier, would start to trickle out in late May with trading properly happening in June and all wrapped up by July. All in all you have five months of Bordeaux-focused discussion and selling, something entirely unique in the world of fine wine. It’s no wonder it causes such jealousy. In a normal world the Bordelais would not want to release the 2019 wines until the trade has tasted them and formulated an opinion but when can this happen? France is currently in lockdown and the UK is rapidly following suit. When exactly both countries – and indeed other western countries that constitute en primeur’s primary markets – will be fully released from this limbo is unclear at present.

Remember – even in these troubled times, there is more beer news every week with Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes on a Friday posts at The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. There’s the AfroBeerChick podcast now as well! Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. Check them out. Hunker down. You got this.

*Must check on this. A rogue porter brewery in Newfoundland would not surprise me if it were not for their happy habit from the 1500s on of importing all the good stuff they need.

Fine… It’s March And Here Are The Thursday Beery News Notes

I thought the new month would have made a big difference. But a couple of twelve hour days in hard black shoes and a snow squall meeting me as I got off the bus that finally made it through rerouted traffic and, well… well… well, at least it ain’t February any more. Let’s see what is going on!

First, there was much fretting in Engerlant over the shadowy Portman Group issuing an edict against a beer label. Now, I’ve beer posting about the shadowy Portman Group’s edicts since at least 2008 so I don’t really care that much now. But the fretting of others was remarkable. SIBA objected to the lack of much due process. The BBC covered it like it was an actual news story. Martyn wrote: “Running with Sceptres is not the ditch to die in over the Portman Group and its bans…” and then wrote more. Folk were cloyingly superior, spitting angry and even spent all the rent money. Pete went all Pete and shouted from the barricades that we need to “…check out the beautiful, sometimes strangely moving, artwork.” See, that is my issue. To me, that label on the can looks like panels stolen from a 1950s Rupert the Bear book.  And me, I don’t buy beer for the artwork and especially not Rupert the Bear rip-offs. In fact, if the art is too good, I assume they are cutting corners on the actual brewing resources. The money can only be spent once after all. Watch yourselves out there.

In another chapter of the tale how craft goes bad, we learned that Goose Island tri-packs with bottles of 2017, 2018 and 2019 Bourbon County stout have been marked down in the US Midwest to about 20% of their original inflated price. Imagine how many casks of the 2020 and even 2021 are sitting there in brewery warehouses… err… cellars with operating managers knowing how little it is really worth now. With such bad value, maybe they will be candidates for that #FlagshipFlotsam* thing one day.

In yet another sign of craft’s collapse, I had originally thought that this was a parody post from Ben, the tale of a overly-branded vegan brewery in Toronto shutting:

It’s like gentrification on human growth hormones, delivered by “The 5700,” a company that “manages a growing portfolio of lifestyle and entertainment brands that live online.” Now excuse me while I clean up the rage-induced blood-vomit typing that phrase has induced. Vegandale Brewery, which seemed to actually just be a coat of paint and a new name for the main floor of the existing Duggan’s Brewery, who officially moved to the basement of the location six months ago, wasn’t helping the image of veganism. Vegandale Brewery launched with the slogan “Morality on tap” and poured beers like Morally Superior IPA and Shining Example Stout. Yikes.

One last bit of endtimesy-wimsey news from CNY:

The Gordon Biersch Restaurant Brewery in Destiny USA closed today, joining a growing list of locations the national chain has been shutting down across the country. The brewpub — a restaurant with an attached brewhouse — opened in the Syracuse mall in 2012 and occupied a space on the first level, near the Hiawatha Street entrance.

I went there once as the family shopped out in the unending megamall for transitory branded objects. I came away with no actual recollections of the experience. Apparently, I was not alone… or at least not as alone as the bartenders were.

More in line with the “get in line” section of the news, I was glad to see this bit of law enforcement in Ontario’s news this week:

Jason Fach, 38, pleaded guilty to impaired driving causing death in December. An agreed statement of facts says that he had had four 20 oz. beers in a little more than an hour at St. Louis Bar and Grill the night of the crash. Fach has been sentenced to six years in prison. On Feb. 28, police announced that they had charged the restaurant, its owners and two staff members. The charges include selling liquor to an intoxicated person, permit drunkenness on licensed premises and failing to facilitate inspection. Under Ontario law, an establishment and its ownership can be held responsible for overserving someone.

The liability of a licensed establishment is distinct from social host liability in which responsibility is much reduced here in the land of the maple and the moose.

On another sort of establishment in another land, Retired Martin posted a lovely photo essay, a snippet of one of which sits above, on a very specific topic this week:

“Should it be open ?” I asked the chattiest of the group, all of whom had OS maps in plastic wallets round their necks. “Oh yes, I phoned them up before we set off. They SAID they’d be open”. Hmmm.

Even more elsewhere, it was Icelandic Beer Day last Sunday.

A nice posi-post of a piece on a lager was sent out via the internets by Pellicle this week:

Thankfully, there was Keller Pils, a lemon-bitter pale lager from Bristol brewery Lost and Grounded. The first barely touched the sides: one gulp, two gulps, three gulps, gone. The second, golden and glistening with condensation in a Willi Becher—a classic straight German glass that tapers elegantly towards the top—took longer. It was crisp but rich, toasty and bitter, direct and deeply rewarding.

One problem with these sorts of nice posi-posts is how they remind you of other positive experience unrelated to the subject matter. I can think of fifty other beers that have happily let to “one gulp, two gulps, three gulps, gone” which is not, I suspect, the point of writing about a particular thing. I did notice the pretty can, however. And this rather honest comment from a co-owner of the brewery:

“It’s like a Rubik’s cube, you know?” Alex says. “It’s about the branding. It’s the communications. It’s the quality of the product. It’s about people out on the road talking about it. It’s about how you work with the wholesalers … it’s all sorts of everything.”

And speaking of nothing in particular, here’s an interesting bit of spam by email:

I am the marketing director for Jolly Pumpkin Artisan Ales. As you may know, Jolly Pumpkin is an all wild, oak-aged brewery. We are announcing the launch of a new canning line for our wild ales and thought that your readers might be interested in the news. The first beers off the line will be year-round favorites, Bam Bière and Calabaza Blanca. We will also be canning Hyrrokkin, the first release of a new fruited seasonal saison series. 

Jolly Pumpkin in a can! Long term readers will recall when I spent a happy late afternoon in the company of owner/brewer Ron J back in 2007 when beer bloggers were still unique enough to not have the parking lot lights turned off and all the doors locked when one showed up to check out a brewery.  Now they sell the stuff in a can. Pretty cans. Life comes at you quickly.

Speaking of the most fabulous thing I heard related to the drinks trade this week…

The bartender at the Radisson Kingswood Hotel in Hanwell, near Fredericton, helped deliver a baby in a snowstorm on Thursday night. Storey said she got the call when she was closing down the bar for the night. “The person who works the front desk, Nick, comes over and says, ‘There’s someone having a baby in our lobby,'” said Storey. “At first I thought he was kidding.”

That’s enough. Once a child is born we have hit peak beer news for the week. And remember, if you want more beer news, check out Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes on a Friday posts at The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. There’s the AfroBeerChick podcast now as well! Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. Check them out. They are like blogs but with people speaking and saying “umm” a lot instead.

*…which is still really better than #JetsamJanuary if you think about it.

These Be The Final Thursday Beery News Notes For February 2020

Go. Go put on your 45 of Don McLean singing “American Pie,” his lament for the milestones marking the ends of innocence during the first two decades of the rock ‘n’ roll era. Go put it on and have have a good cry because that’s sorta what happened this week. BeerAdvocate got bought.  They didn’t “join forces” with anyone.* As they explained on Monday:

A large portion of our business relied on revenue from BeerAdvocate magazine. As the focus of readers and advertisers shifted over recent years, our publication wasn’t immune to the issues that have impacted the entire print media industry. Next Glass stepped up to ensure that our awesome community that we’ve all worked hard to cultivate since 1996 can continue to thrive for years to come.

They ran out of dough and needed someone to take them over. Which is fine.  Next Glass runs that Untappd thing I don’t use but others do. So that is good. BeerAdvocate  will continue in a fashion but just not what they have been doing excellently for over twenty years.  I share the photo to the right as testimonial to their excellence. I took that photo and they like it so much they put it in their magazine in the December 2007 edition. Didn’t ask. Didn’t pay me for it. But I got a good complaining post out of it sixteen years ago so it all worked out in the end.** But it sucks that they had to take a buy out.

From the archives and related: the state of beer mags in 2007.

As mentioned last week, Jancis Robinson is asking questions about the transport weight of wine bottles in a world more and more concerned with sustainability:

The most sustainable way of shipping wine is by sea in a tanker. A wine shipped in bulk to New York from Australia could easily have a lower carbon footprint than one trucked in bottle from California (though behemoth Gallo has long shipped wine across the country by rail). A container of bulk wine holds two and half times as much wine as a container packed with conventional 75-cl bottles. It may sound dreadfully unromantic, but the technology of bulk shipping of wine has improved beyond recognition in the last few years, as has the expertise of professional wine bottlers in major wine-importing countries in northern Europe.

What weight of beer is shipped around the world and how big a carbon footprint does that represent? Should that be calculated into the value of an imported beer – or a big craft beer shipped by truck across the continent?

Best image in beer this week from B and the other B.

Ben, Canada’s leading beer writer best known for not writing that much about beer anymore,*** took the time to do what I can’t be bothered to do – complain about #FlagshipFebruary which is on its last legs… err, week! I meant week!

At the risk of opening my door tomorrow morning to find a frothy-mouthed Beaumont on my porch with a straight razor in his hand, I’d suggest the way to move the needle forward in craft beer isn’t to have a handful of established beer writers talk about a handful of beers that were once relevant. They (the beers that is) are essentially relics of a bygone era and while they broke down doors for today’s craft beers, our interest in them now is and should be a sort of reverential nostalgia and tolerance. Instead of endearing icons, I’d suggest they’re now a bit more like once-great athletes, hanging around their respective sports just a little too long.

Yesterday’s beer for yesterday’s fans brought to you by yesterday’s… Oh. Yes… err… no… that would be unkind.

Note: …and then Ben goes and posts one of his best posts ever**** on Wednesday on the cancellation of the Ontario Beer Summit, a beer diversity conference in Toronto that was being organized by indefatigable Ren Navarro, due to lack of buy in from the target audience, aka the local craft brewers.

Katie is writing something… but what?

In the hot legal new department, Brendan tweeted about the Estate of Johnny Cash (yeah!) suing something called Cash Brewing Company Inc. (boo!) for ripping off the man in black’s trademark.  They even have a beer named “The Can in Black” which I think qualifies as a bastardly thing to do to the memory of old Johnny.

Dr. Christina Wade has written about on the connection and disconnections between alewives and witches in early modern England:

While we may never truly know if alewives were accused of witchcraft simply because they were alewives, it is clear that women who brewed were perhaps particularly vulnerable to the witch-hunts.

Not moving far in space but certainly in time, a brewer in Norfolk, England is pushing a beer barrel on a 140 mile trip. Why? To to raise money for the testicular cancer charity, It’s On The Ball. BBC Radio Norfolk has the story somewhere in this three hour broadcast at about the two hour and fifteen minute mark.

Stan’s Hop Queries digi-hop-zine came out this week and included this observation:

Peter Darby, who has been breeding hops in England for almost 40 years, once said this: “English flavor is like a chamber orchestra, the hops giving simultaneously the high notes and the bass notes. In comparison, a Czech beer is more like a full orchestra with much more breadth to the sound, and an American hop gives more of a dance band with more emphasis on volume and brass. The recent New Zealand hops (e.g. Nelson Sauvin) are like adding a voice to the instrumental music.”

I usually hate that sorta thing but I don’t fully in this case. Almost. Analogies? Really? So 2008. I really only mention it to remind you to sign up. That up there is just a tidbit and a bit of a blip at that on on the great information he periodically produces through the periodical. Did you know that there were 770 attendees at the 2020 American Hop Convention? Neither did I… until Stan told me so.

Stan also sent me an email asking my thoughts on this book, How NOT to start a F@ck!ng Brewery. I checked out the Amazon “Look Inside!” thingme and had flashbacks from writing the Al and Max book. So much dirty language. So much. 

And finally, sad reality in the form of far grimmer bit of news than anyone would want to have to face was shared on Wednesday with the shootings at MillerCoors in Milwaukee. Terrible news. Yes, be excellent to each other.

Next week, on to March. In the meantime for more beer news, check out Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes on a Friday posts at The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. There’s the AfroBeerChick podcast now as well! Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. What else? What indeed.

*They also confirmed on their blog post that they didn’t run a blog, either.
**…and I never saw a case of beer either, Evan.
***A remarkably packed field competed for this award.
****Blogs are back, baby!

When The Second Week Of February Strikes And All You Have Are Thursday Beer News Notes…

It’s a funny time of the seasons. Photos on social media from the mid-Atlantic and southern England definitely look like spring to me but it’s going to top out at -15C here on Friday. One last kick from the angry gods, just the one I  hope. Hope. Oh… and just don’t fall for the matchy matchy beer and candy stuff. Don’t be hoping that is going to work out. Unless your spouse is already bought into good beer, don’t ruin your relationship by mixing hope with your hobby addiction.

Speaking of dopey, drunken History posted this century old ad up there and it sorta speaks to the moment. Maybe. Not a lot making sense these days. Odd times. So please remember that image next time some half-read blab goes off over the temperance movement. Temperance won. Winter won’t win but temperance did. If you are reading this, you happily live in a temperance-based  society.

Except perhaps… well… anyway, the Beer Nut discovered a media campaign that makes also absolutely no sense at all. And… there was this odd story of a beer release line up facing off with a man and his Glock:

No shots were fired during the squabble outside the Other Half Brewing Company in Carroll Gardens — and a suspect was being questioned Saturday, police said. The gun-slinging skeptic struck around the corner from the brewery, on Garnet Street, where beer lovers with camp chairs and hand trucks regularly line up overnight to buy limited-run, $18 four-packs in collectible cans, sold when the doors open Saturday mornings.

Even odder, he waited around until the cops came. Odd times.

Conversely, Life After Football painted portraits of favorite characters he has met on his pub ticking travels in England:

For me, the best boozers are ones that are full of characters and not necessarily for the faint-hearted. A pub where you can walk in, have a chat with a complete stranger and time flies.  O[f]* course, you also have the riotous evenings where pubs are jam packed and anything goes! Over the past 500+ pubs there has been plenty of characters and I’ve uncovered a few photos from the Lifeafterfootball archives to recall some of the Midlands’ finest #pubmen.

Matt posted another in his thoughtful and open posts about how breweries should deal with beer writers, this time on the topic of samples. I don’t know if in a 10,000 brewery world the idea of chasing a very few folk paid to write 100 word notes for newspapers makes all that much sense – especially given the apparently urge to give repeat attention to a handful of blabby brewery owners or their PR staff** – but the post is full of realistic good advice like this:

Consider how much beer you are sending out. One can or bottle is enough. Seriously. There is no need to send out a case to try and curry favour among your selected media. Consider what I said earlier about the limited amount of time said media has to work their way through the amount of samples they might be receiving. One is plenty.

Exactly. I don’t know how many times I’ve seen the sad puppy face on a brewery or brewery owner when I take far less of the sample than offered whether in the tap room or the store house. Hint: your favorite pet thing is often not going to be the favorite of others.

A sad bit of news out of central New York with the passing of Joe Fee but an excellent obit from Don Cazentre that explains his family’s business was in bitters for your drinks:

Fee Brothers got its start in the middle of the Civil War, when Joe Fee’s great-grandfather and his brothers began making and importing wine in a location overlooking the Genesee River. That led to the company’s long-running tagline, which Joe Fee liked to recite: “The House of Fee / by the Genesee / since eighteen hundred and sixty-three.” The company evolved over the years, and moved to its current location on Portland Avenue after a fire. During Prohibition, it survived by producing altar wine. It also started making flavored syrups or cordials with flavors like Benedictine, Chartreuse, Rum and Brandy.

Jancis, who we all should follow, shared an “Australian bushfire report through the eyes of our winemakers” including this assessment of the situation from Stuart Angas, Hutton Vale Farm wines:

In the Hunter region it is perhaps a different story with some producers (Tyrrells for example) declaring their 2020 vintage lost, but let’s keep this in perspective, the Hunter region is over 1500km from us! For the media to paint us all with the same brush…is so irresponsible.  We have the utmost respect for what the Tyrrell family has done, we ourselves declared our 2015 vintage unsuitable for our quality of wines and didn’t make any red wines that year. (Our next release will be 2016s).

Another, Alex Peel, Greenock Creek wrote:

Very fortunately, the Barossa Valley was not in the direct fire front of any South Australian Fires and our vineyards are in great shape. We expect to harvest in the next 2-3 weeks and already colour intensity, tannin development and flavours in the berries is indicating a very strong, quality vintage. We just had 20mm of rain over the weekend and this has been received at the perfect time in our vineyards to see us through to harvest with some water reserves for the vines to ripen the fruit evenly and un-stressed. 

Speaking of wine, Katie put her thoughts on spending extended quality time with one winery in the Mosel last summer in order for Pellicle this week including encountering the noble rot:

On my next bunch—smaller, but beautiful all the same—a lacing of powdery botrytis [or noble rot, a fungus that sweetens and intensifies the flavour of the grapes as it wraps them in decay] turns plump, shining berries luxurious velvety shades of lavender and mauve. On my first day, Rudi had told me about the magic of this fungus. No doubt reading my reactions (I have no poker face) he’d encouraged me to eat the nobly rotten grapes I’d picked to understand their value. The flavour was spiced and honeyed—much richer than I expected from a grape—and the tang that came from the seeds as I crunched reminded me of sherbert. 

Next time you read someone raving on about the “just add  fruit syrup” sort of brewing or how wine all tastes the same, think of Katie and her prized fungus.

Martyn shared his thoughts about sitting along in a pub in an excellent piece he published yesterday:

Of the thousands of hours I have spent in pubs over the past half a century, in a fair proportion I have been on my own, and I’ve enjoyed them all. I love the sociability of pubs, I love the interplay between people, the crack, in groups small and large: I married the woman who is the mother of my child in part because she was the person I most enjoyed going down the pub and chatting with. But I also love being a solo pub goer, sitting, sipping and thinking.

Speaking of pubs and care of Mudgie, the Morning Advertiser struck a slightly paranoid note with this piece by on the point of the pub being about alcohol:

Dry January may be behind us, but I’m sure many in the trade will agree that the booze bashers seem set on pouring cold water on enjoying a drink all year round. The cynic in me has started wondering if all the noise around the alcohol-free category is less about marking and more focused on manipulation.

“Bashers”? “Manipulation”? Play to audience much?  This rivals the independent eye found in the 1940s journalistic style of baseball writers. Hard to carry on with the article at that point.

Finally, as Alistair wrote, something surely worthy of a shout out in @agoodbeerblog‘s weekly round up: a Scots Gaelic language beer reviewer. Slàinte mhath!!

That’s it.  I keep meaning to get shorter and shorter but these hings keep having a life of their own. For more, check out Boak and Bailey most Saturdays, plus more at the OCBG Podcast on Tuesdays and sometimes a mid-week… or Friday… post of notes from The Fizz as well. And sign up for Katie’s weekly newsletter, too. There’s the  AfroBeerChick podcast now as well! Plus the venerable Full Pint podcast. And Fermentation Radio with Emma Inch. Anyone else? Let me know!

*Sic. Sick!
**Hint: find those actual thoughtful expressive people to foster an actual continuing relationship with.