Category: The Session

Session #147: More Poems Please!

It’s the day for The Session again, the last Friday of the month. Our host this month is Phil Cook, a New Zealander in the beer trade who lives in Australia. He posed his question for this month’s consideration over at his blog and it’s all about art:

Feel free to interpret “art” and “fiction” as broadly as you like. Film, TV, music, games, poetry, prose, painting, a particularly pointed piece of graffiti; whatever. Don’t feel obliged to pick a single favourite. A random grab-bag of examples would be wonderful — though a carefully-selected set that illustrates a trend or theme is of course welcome, too. I’d even be curious to hear about a beer or pub that came to you in a dream, if it felt like it captured something about its subliminal force in culture or on your own specific consciousness.

Phil was good enough in his announcement of the topic to remind me that he was struck by Gord Downie’s rendition of the poem “At the Quinte Hotel” by Al Purdy, something I shared years ago. Here’s Al Purdy’s own rendition.  Around that time, I also received what was unquestionably the highest award a Canadian beer blog writer can receive for their sensitivity as my original post about Purdy’s poem received this comment from none other than the host of CBC TV’s Man Alive Roy Bonisteel back in 2007, offering a bit of background on the poet and the poet:

I like the beer blog….it’s very good. In interesting fact that a lot of people don’t know is that although Bellevillians are very proud of Al Purdy’s poem about the Quinte Hotel…it is not the Belleville Quinte. It is the Trenton Quinte…now called something else…where Purdy drank. At this same time I had a room at the Quinte when I was driving cab and working at the Courier. At that time we didn’t know each other…but year’s later over many a beer, talked about the fact that we had both been there at the same time. Tell your friend I’ll keep up with his blog.

We now understand that the Quinte of Trenton became known as The Sherwood Forest Inn, a peeler bar, before it burned in 2012. Such is the way of the world. There are somethings even poetry can’t save us from.

And as further proof (if it was needed… or even possible) of my status as a sensitive man, I posted a number of passages from poems about beer back in 2007.   It included this passage from a poem I have admired since I was in undergrad, William Shenstone‘s “Written At An Inn” from 1758:

Here, waiter! take my sordid ore,
Which lackeys else might hope to win;
It buys what courts have not in store,
It buys me Freedom, at an inn.

Freedom. Wonderful thought right there. Click on that image to see the whole thing as it appeared on page of Volume 27 of The London Magazine, Or, Gentleman’s Monthly Intelligencer at page 255. And you know it wasn’t just poems being read about drinking in inns back then. There were poems written that were meant to be sung in the taverns and inns of the eighteenth century.  I’ve posted a few over the years but I think my favourite, set to a very familiar tune, was “Nottingham Ale” because, as explained in the 2017 post under that link, I was familiar with the tune. But that was not the only one. In the very next year, I wrote about “Dorchester Beer” which includes this rueful geo-political verse offering an alt-history of the lead up to the American Revolution:

E’en our brethren across the Atlantick, could  they
But drink of this liquor, would soon be content:
And quicker by half, I will venture to say,
Our parliament might have fulfilled their intent.
If, instead of commissioners, tedious and dear.
They had sent out a cargo of Dorchester-beer.

I wonder if they’d be open to that trade these days. Hmm. And I would be failing in my sensitivity on this point if I didn’t finish with an acknowledgement to Beer Daily Haiku which ran from 2005 to 2013 during the Golden Age of Beer Writing. That was a great thing to read over the first coffee each morning. The Wordle of its day.

What happened to it all? Why has beer ceased to inspire the pen? Is it because we have traded haze where once was clarity? I don’t know. Have we lost our capacity for sensitivity? I wonder. One last bit of verse before you go about your weekend, this from Keats’s Ode to Autumn which I wrote about in 2003 again thinking back to undergrad days when I was struck by this poet’s thoughts on the plenty of harvest and, in the end, harvest’s rewards:

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Good work, Johnny K. Now I am off. Gotta go plant something. And then maybe have a drink.

The Goodbye May And Hello Temperatures Over 68F Edition Of The Beery News Notes

It’s always good to find a new extension to a hobby. I have kept a birding life list for decades but, you know, I’m am pretty lazy about adding to it in any organized way. Because you have to go out there and look. Out into the world. Into the woods and fields. Just look that that chaos! What a pain in the ass. So happy was I that I was advised by eldest to add the free Merlin app from Cornell University to my phone. Not only does it identify the birds you can hear around you but it records and archives the sounds with a handy graph that looks like a seismic chart. Did you know I had a Swainson’s Thrush in the tree by my house or Magnolia Warblers down the street? I didn’t. But now I do. All very exciting – especially as all that is required of me is to find a spot and stand still. The Kingbirds come to you. I can even doze off as the device gathers the data. Excellent. I bet it pairs well with the backyard and a beer.

Speaking of the high sciences, I always like to report on the Beeronomics Society news when I get an email update on their doings. Rather than the usual sort of beer experts, they are a group of global academics with (get this) credentials from peer reviewed institutions!  They don’t get together all that often but they have announced a meeting in Bordeaux, France tentatively set for June 24 to 27, 2026. Please support my funding drive to send me to that event – with, yes, a two week lead up climatization prep there ahead of time and, yes a two week cool down afterwards… also there. Ahhhh… Bordeaux. Their website may be tremendously out of date in terms of form and content, but their newsletter I got by email this week did mention a new book to find out there on your travels, The Brew Deal: How Beer Helped Battle the Great Depression by Jason Taylor of Cntreal Michgan University who discussed it on YouTube:

During the final stages of Prohibition, the US government allowed the consumption and sale of “non-intoxicating” beer, which was at or below 3.2% alcohol-by-weight. Beer’s return—permitted with an eye toward job creation during the Great Depression—was one of President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s earliest New Deal policies. In this book, economic historian Jason E. Taylor takes readers through the rapid resurgence of American breweries and shows how beer helped spark a sharp recovery in the spring of 1933.

And continuing with their sociological studies, Boak and Bailey wrote this week about finding themselves in a culture over twenty years behind in terms of the interior public smoking scene:

We’d assumed that smoking bans had come into place in most countries in the orbit of the EU, or that are tentatively working their way towards membership. In Serbia, though, it turns out that the smoking ban introduced in 2010 exempted bars, cafes and restaurants. Small establishments can choose to ban smoking if they want to. But based on our observations in the past week, very few opt for anything but ashtrays on every table… If you’re someone who spends a bit too much time hanging around outside taprooms and craft beer bars, puffing away in the cold and the drizzle, you might want to consider Belgrade for your next holiday.

I grew up with smoking in bars until my early 40s but have absolutely no interest in going back. Elsewhere, Katie has been in Spain and I am, you know, really frikkin’ jealous:

I love Spain. Every region is so different but so familiar, the same searing hot sun shining down in golden waves, touching everything with a little magic. I particularly love Spanish ham, and last night at a bar in a tiny alleyway I was served some of the most delicious acorn-fed lomo I’ve ever had in my life. Salty, melting, rich, served on paper.

Ahhh… Spain. Very very jealous. OK, back to the eggheads in lab coats, in this week’s “Hey That Sucks” news in the medical sciences, the New York Post has reported on a study published in “Environmental Science & Technology” found that 95% of 23 tested beers across the US contain cancer causing forever chemicals – and there are more in someplaces than others:

The study found a strong correlation between PFAS concentrations in municipal drinking water and levels in locally brewed beer — a phenomenon that has not previously been researched. While the study did not disclose specific beer brands, it identified that beers brewed near the Cape Fear River Basin in North Carolina exhibited the highest levels and most diverse mix of PFAS. Beers from St. Louis County, Missouri, also showed significant PFAS presence. The findings suggest that standard water filtration systems used in breweries may not effectively remove forever chemicals, highlighting the need for improved water treatment strategies at both brewing facilities and municipal treatment plants.

And it was the week for Stan’s monthly Hop Queries report and of note this time was the agri-science horticultural news of great crops from Australia and New Zealand. He also shared a secret about the frankly anti-terrioristic efforts behind one old pal of mine, Bell’s Two Hearted Ale:

…for Bell’s, the quality of the Centennial is quite important. But a few years ago, I learned that when you drink a Two Hearted you can’t say, “Yes, that’s Centennial from Crosby Hops.” Or from Segal Ranch, or CLS Farms. Or other farms that supply Centennial to Bell’s. The team at Creature Comforts Brewing in Georgia was excited in 2022 when they were brewing a collaboration beer with Bell’s, because that beer was to include “Centennial from Bell’s selected hops” along with five other varieties. Bell’s vice president in charge of operations John Mallett, since retired, explained what that means. After carefully selecting 500,000 pounds of Centennial each year from multiple farms, Bell’s creates a master blend that does not smell or taste of a single farm.

There. Now… let’s take a pause here so we don’t forget to consider the arts, too. And don’t forget that at the end of the month for now and forever, we have The Session. Phil Cook is hosting this week who explains the topic:

I’d like to take us out of the ‘real world’ for a moment to share the beers and pubs in art and fiction that have grabbed our attention, whether they were sublime, surprising, moving, amusing, somehow significant, or symbolic of something — or awkward and out of place, if you like. Gather your thoughts, or keep an eye out over the next few weeks, and let’s enjoy them together at the end of the month.

Fine. Art. Got it? Done with that? Now… back to the grim reality of today. Remember those tariffs? We’ve heard about their effect on aluminum cans and glass bottles, but Utah’s KUER radio reported on the effect of tariffs on brewers who rely on rare ingredients like Kiitos Brewing which relies on fonio*:

“It’s the most expensive grain we’ve ever purchased, because it is coming from West Africa,” Dasenbrock said. “They’ve already kind of signaled that the price that we had been quoted will not likely be the price when it arrives.” That price swing is because of the Trump administration’s tariffs. In April, the president slapped tariffs on about 90 countries. Since then, some products have been exempted while other tariffs have been postponed…  For Dasenbrock, the rapidly changing landscape makes it difficult to pinpoint what his expenses will be. “Day by day, it’s 10%, it’s 50%, it’s 1,000%. Oh, no, wait, just kidding, it’s 10%,” he said. “It’s virtually impossible to predict what your costs are going to be in an environment like that.”

Ahhh… Utah. [Nope. That just doesn’t work in the same way.] And where the tariffs aren’t hitting hard, breweries continue to close and, in Germany, brewers are even – sounds a bit exotic in these times – going on strike as Jessica Mason reports:

…the growing concern among beer fans is that, without resolution, beer production at Krombacher could also be cut during the summer months… Isabell Mura, deputy NRW regional chair of the NGG and managing director of the NGG South Westphalia explained that the strike falls just before the beer-hungry holidays of Ascension Day and Pentecost and warned that summer thirst could also suffer since reduced beer production would then also make barbecues and summer festivals drier.

And speaking of both the moo as well as the lah, Jeff wrote about how one economic development agency – a concept rife with chin rubbing questions – in his home state of Oregon helps and perhaps fails to help industries, like brewing, there:

It’s possible Travel Oregon is killing it with other industries; the state is also famous for its wine, coffee, cuisine, and agricultural and natural resource plenty, not to mention its non-industrial and amazing outdoor activities. Neff quoted folks who said it was great, and I have no reason to argue with them. In terms of making the case that Oregon is a unique and special place for beer in the US, with a deeper culture and history than you’ll find anywhere else, not so much. Travel Oregon’s brewery information is out of date and sparse, and the map is even more out of date and inaccurate. Those deficits are a big part of the reason I wanted to create Celebrate Oregon Beer. Since I was really the main critic, I just wanted to heavily caveat my comments to say they only applied to beer.

And David J himself has a new project on the go, the Desi Food Guide that builds upon his work to date inclusing hs book Desi Pubs and his newsletter Episodes of My Pub Life:

Although the question of where serves the best mixed grill is very important, explaining the reasons why desi pubs were set up in the face of racism, segregation and hostility seemed far more pressing. The book resonated with readers because it wasn’t a shallow interaction with desi culture but a deep dive into modern British-Asian history. Desi Food Guide will continue where the book left off and delve into the stories behind dishes made by those often overlooked or superficially covered by online influencers. I will use my many decades as a journalist to tell their stories and interview those who may be shy but have a special tale to tell. I will visit restaurants, cafes, food trucks and, of course, pubs to detail one dish a week that you have to experience.

That sounds very interesting. You can sign up here. Finally, Pellicle took us to Pigalle Beer Bar in Tokyo where the selection is the owners’ personal collection more than the result of curation. The work this week is provided care of author Reece Hugill, where he found an old friend on offer :

I, too, was a bit taken aback by this. Memories of warm bottles drunk in my youth, often a misguided Christmas present, are not positive. Forced-down, tepid pints in suburban chain pubs with dirty lines are even worse. It took me two visits to Pigalle before I overcame this, and plucked up the courage to join the locals in their favourite beverage… the Old Speckled Hen is their “toriaezu biru” which means that it’s the initial beer you order to start yourself off, without thinking, or looking at the menu, before diving into whatever you fancy next. Something to shrug off the world with. 

What a great idea. Baselining as opposed to mainlining. Well, that is it for now. A bit of a quiet week. The King visited. I didn’t drive to Ottawa to see him. Next time maybe. And until you and I meet again, please check out Boak and Bailey every Saturday (…as long as all their holiday fun doesn’t get in the way…) and Stan (….back again this  Monday and very nice of him to notice what I wrote). 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!

*Fonio.

Session #146: On Value

I used to go on and on about many things but one of my biggest beefs in years past was the broader beer discussion not only ignoring but rejecting much of the normal considerations of value. Especially relative value. You look at any critical discussion in wine, info tech, cars, pop music, clothes, food… anything… and there is someone telling you X is pretty much the same as Y but it only costs 78% as much. That’s the entire basis of consumer focused writing. Except with beer.

So it was with a large helping of interest that I read that our host Ding’s subject for this month’s edititon of The Session was value:

On the whole, I have found value in most of my purchases. That isn’t to say that all of the purchases have represented value for money, they haven’t, but I can still find tremendous value in what many people would categorize as ‘ridiculously expensive beer’. 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.

Eighteen years ago, when this blog was a bit of a thingier thing, I wrote a piece with the title “Are Craft Beer Prices Too Low? No, They Are Not Too Low” which got a lot of attention in the comments from a lot of interesting people. It is an artifact of the era. The era of “Hooray!!!” As with the best of public and, like the psalms, responsive readings of that time I learned a lot from what was shared in the comments.  Unfortunately, I lost the ability to link to specific comments from way back when the platform for this here blog got shifted but suffice it to say that there was a range of ideas from:

Do I ask my Quebecois cheesemaker to justify the price of his or her cheese? No.

and on to:

…distillers do get asked to justify the high prices on whiskies (and even whiskeys) these days. They have a simple answer: it’s really good, it’s really rare, and we had to keep it a long time before we made any money on it.

plus:

It would be great to see more actual brewers chime in on this forum, because I think some of this talk is just absolutely ridiculous.

It all looks a bit charming from almost two decades on. I think if we consider (i) what has happened in recent years to the previously irrationally exuberant fine wine market as well as, obviously, to the whole  craft beer industry and (ii) the greater acceptance about the role of manufactured scarcity and, in a few cases, straight up avarice from those plumping the brewery for resale along with (iii) (as also seen in the comments) the genuinely held dreams of brewers fully convinced that they were making art not beer then, well, we can agree that a great rebalancing shift has occurred in the market. And it is one which allows drinks consumers to assert a greater and saner role in determining the relative value of what they buy. We are in a new era, one that pre-Obama era drinks trade might never have imagined.

So where are we now in terms of appreciating value in 2025? First, there is actual consumer generated response which creates downward pressure on price points for beer at home and in the taverns. I look to no higher authority* than The Tand on this point who wrote this very week:

If you charge an outrageous £7 a pint for @TimothyTaylors Landlord, it should be toppest of notches, not poor. (Hoop and Grapes, Aldgate.) You really shouldn’t be doing this. Get a cellar services team in to check procedures and temperature. Shocking. Started off peeved about this is. Now as I struggle through this pint, I’m hopping mad about it. And no, the beer isn’t off, just totally badly presented and the price – words fail me.

The tone! None of the “let’s get out there and raise all boats, lads!” talk circa 2009 in those fighting words. That’s raw reporting, that is.  And it didn’t stop there. The Mudge ripped back:

The average British adult only drinks about 1¼ pints of beer in a pub each week, which really isn’t very much. Drinking a lot of beer in pubs, such that it has a significant impact on your personal budget, is very much a minority pursuit. Many pubgoers are there primarily to have a meal, and if you’re happily spending £17.95 on a braised lamb shank, whether your pint of Landlord is £4.75 or £5.50 is neither here nor there. 

What the hell has he got against lamb shanks?!?  Whatever it is, I think we can agree that lamb shanks merely stand in for the consumption of all other forms of entertainment. Clearly. Which leads us to the observation that the recognition of relative value’s role goes beyond whether this beer is as good as that beer but can be had for half the price and lands squarely on the reality that the question of whether this night on the beer is as good as going to that concert or that game – or to that park or for that nap for that matter.

We still need to beware. There are still forces of anti-valutarianism about trying to grab every penny from us that they can. Just this very week, Jeff** witnessed two flailing attempts to pump desperate transfusions into the bloated corpse of IPA:

Northern IPA, an idea apparently concocted by the Lallemand Marketing Department to sell a new yeast strain, “incorporates the clean drinkability of the modern West Coast IPA with a more prominent yeast aroma profile.” Meanwhile, Matthew Curtis forwards Savo(u)ry IPA to describe a single beer from Norfolk—that’s in East Anglia—using MSG for the purpose of “stimulating your umami receptors.” All right, then!

Chemistry. BAH!! Nothing thoughtlessly opens the badly battered wallet like claims to better chemistry. Consumers take heed!  This is the sort of thing you are up against in your quest for a decent drink at a decent price. We must protect the innocence of our precious umami receptors while we can.

What is value? Freedom. That’s what.***

*I can’t apologize to The Beer Nut on this hierarchical point, given he too wears the “the” of authority, but certainly note that he wrote this very week “It’s not unpleasant, but it is extremely basic. Is it an effective substitute for the price-conscious Madrí drinker? Sure, why not?” by which we can infer his sensitivity to the combined effect climatic, inflationary and authoritarian imposition of tariffs all weighing down upon the lowly consumers’ shoulders,  pushing the mind towards critical marketplace analysis and away from happy lappy advocacy. 
**Not “The Jeff” I would note. Not yet. Oh, and here‘s what The Mattyman wrote.
***Finis. Amplifer fluens. (Applause!) Te relinquo.

The Last Thoughtful Yet Wistful Beery News Notes For The Election 2025

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.

The Uplifting And Inspiring Candidate For First Beery News Notes For Q2 of 2025

It’s April. Finally. Did you realize that today we are exactly the same length of time from this time last year as we are to this time next year? No? I was really hoping to start out with something profound this week… but that’s all I could come up with.* It’s got to be the election. I’m all a buzz about the election. And, as predicted last week, there has been an election beer pouring sighting this week as PM Carney took his Liberal party campaign bus to a bar in Georgetown, Ontario. He seems to have a pretty steady hand. Here’s a bit of a vid. More beer pouring please, candidates…

First up, Matthew shared the round up from the March edition of The Session with lots of good stuff. My submission was not as interesting as those of other folk* so go check out all the other entries – but also read Matthews own thoughts on why writing in this “sketching not sketchy” manner is important:

I’ve returned to blogging this year because I think getting the multitude of ideas I’ve been sitting on for months out in a way that is not bound to this process, or to the whims of a particular editor is really valuable. Writing is important, and it doesn’t matter if you’re an experienced journalist or you’re writing your first ever piece, the most important thing is that you get it done, and then move on to the next one. As I enter my 10th year as a full-time professional writer, I consider this blog to be the best place to try out ideas, and figure out what does and doesn’t work.

Next time, the host is Ding and the question is about value. Yes, there are plenty of venues and levels for we scribblers. For example, Rachel Hendry wrote a inner voice piece for the first issue of a new web mag – a wag? – called chlorophyll about a night out with the Gamay:

Tasting Beaujolais is where I learnt the term confected, a harsh word rhyming with infected and inferring the pick-and-mix stalls of the cinema complex and theatre foyer. Parma violets and foam bananas and sweet jellied cherries all manifesting in a glass that people infantilise and dismiss. Yet here, in my glass, a dismissal of an assumption takes place. A Gamay peppery and perfumed and proud. Spicy. Intoxicating. The presence of this spice allows the Gamay to take on a new meaning. A hierarchy rejected.

I like it. You can too. Just remember the scale: Beaujolais Nouveau, Beaujolais, Beaujolais Village and then the best stuff from any of the individual ten villages like Fleurie or St-Amore. From pretty silly fruit juice to age worthy complexity. Yet relatively cheap and cheery at each point up the ladder. Gamay is also pretty commonly grown for wine here in Ontario, too.

Also cheap and cheery seems to be traveling in eastern Europe but, with concerns for their safety, does one really go to Transnistra given it’s largely occupied by the post-Soviet / not-so-post-Soviets. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Retired Martin did:

…our guide Lily wasn’t much interested in facts and figures either. She showed us supermarkets, sturgeon, fridge magnet stores and the Sheriff Tiraspol ground, while changing the tour to squeeze in an unscheduled wine tasting that meant she wouldn’t get back in Chisinau in time to see Haaland and Ødegaard dismantle the Moldovan national team. What a trooper. It’s just as well Transnistrian is so quiet, hardly any traffic in the towns or on the highway, and we were able to stop at Bender’s Tighina Fortress on a promise that we “wouldn’t dawdle or attempt to read the descriptions in the torture museum” or something.

Another town with another fort is Rye in England where Pellicle took us this week where Fred Garratt-Stanley traced the history of some of the oldest pubs if you know where to look – including the chimney at The Mermaid :

Dr. Chris Moore’s research often centres around uncovering these stories by digging into architectural quirks. For example, when he learned that The Mermaid’s central chimney is made from Caen stone (a type of limestone quarried in northern France and usually shipped to England to construct religiously symbolic buildings like Canterbury Cathedral,) he was immediately intrigued. “Caen stone is basically a religious stone used to construct most of our big cathedrals, it would not have been used on a pub,” he explains. “So that’s probably Reformation stone from a dissolved monastery close to Rye that’s been reused. There’s symbolism to that; did the landlord make a conscious decision to go ‘It’s a shame that monastery’s been destroyed, let’s keep a bit of it in the pub’?”

Also keeping up with the past, Liam provided us with another slice of Irish beer history, an inquiry by the magistrates into the problem of the overpour:

…the publicans were summoned to appear in front of the local magistrates and as examples, a pair of half-gallon measures were produced belonging to two publicans, a Mr. McDonnell and a Mrs. Wafer. Both measures had been found to be correct six months previous but now held a naggin more than they previously did according to the inspector. This would equate to over 4% extra liquid per measure, which would amount to a moderate but notable loss to the publican over time. The magistrates were at a loss as to how this could happen, but the puzzle was solved when a tinman called Mr. Waters took to the stand and gave the following explanation…

There… you’re hooked! Go read the rest for yourself under that link. Not dissimilarly, Eoghan Walsh wrote a list of everything he ate outside of the home last month including but not limited to:

Half a packet of Yolloh strawberry marshmallow sweets I found hidden behind my phone at my desk. Four fruit Mentos I found in my dressing gown. A full pack of Yolloh strawberry marshmallow sweets I bought in a moment of weakness. A basket of fries at Brasserie de la Senne, shared. A portion of Boon Mariage Parfait cheese squares, with mustard, shared. Duyvis Crac-A-Nut Paprika nuts, three or four packets, the small ones from the vending machine.

And Laura Hadland wrote an excellent extended post script to a recent What’s Brewing article on sexism at British beerfests to explain the why calling out such bigotries  matter:

Why do something that you know might upset a few people when you can take a different route and try not to actively offend anyone? We all know that you can’t please all the people all of the time and no doubt whatever theme or image the St Albans committee chose, they would end up with detractors saying they didn’t like the decision. But not liking something for reasons of personal taste or preference is different from choosing to use an illustration that has sexist overtones. 

Gary has announced that he is done with X. (Me, I linger there still only for the inflamatory entertainment of the national election here, making any manner of political obsessive lose their marbles.) Speaking of smartening up, The Polk from The Hammer has been near dry for months now and is finding the loss of venue a continuing challenge:

I love a solid beer run and this last weekend was perhaps the worst, most depressing one I’ve ever taken and it illustrates a real problem the sober or non-alcoholic beer world has when it comes to helping folks crossover or drink a little less if that’s what they’re after… I must admit to longing for that jump in the car and head off down the road moment we used to have when it came to grabbing some new beers… There aren’t many options for a sober third space and while some breweries have NA offerings, good ones that aren’t more than a cheap knock-off of something they toss on the menu for the DD are not as easy to find. The culture of raising a glass with your friends is missing, the fluid conversation and excitement of new and returning beers, old favourites and solid stand-bys doesn’t exist…

Also over is April Fools Day. The best beer related prank was this announcement from Bill of It’s Pub Night:

I was surprised to see a local brewery — you can figure out which one — announce on Facebook that they will no longer be brewing their love-it-or-hate-it Donnie the Elder double gose flavored with muskmelon. Muskmelon — another word for cantaloupe — gave the beer its distinctive orange color, but the taste wasn’t for everyone.  The double gose (sometimes abbreviated “doge” on the blackboard) had a small but vocal minority who liked it, but wasn’t popular enough to keep in the rotation.  The brewers had briefly experimented with a lighter-bodied version that wasn’t as sharp, and not as pungent or orange-colored, that was called Donnie the Younger.  But it turned out no one liked that one, not even fans of Donnie the Elder.

Quote to the contrary, Jordan is seeking the real truthy truth and continuing his list of new beer rules and got so excited about #6 that he skipped past #4 and #5 to get at it – it being the lack of succession as he considers the end** of Mill Street:

We’ve had a lot of breweries open and close within a couple of years in Ontario. Sometimes their annual production wouldn’t fill a large Jacuzzi. Discounting those, let’s say you have shelf SKUs and you’re up around 2,000 hl a year. What’s your plan? Are you going to get big enough to sell to a large corporation? In this economy? Is your brand important enough to be consolidated? Will anyone miss it when it’s gone? According to my spreadsheet, which requires some updating, 119 physical brewing locations have closed in Ontario since 2017, just after Mill Street was purchased. Not many of them were purchased by larger companies.

Sticking with the Canadian scene, Mélissa Gélinas in the Aylmer Bulletin out of Quebec considers what the tariffs we face in Canada will mean for her local breweries:

Sébastien Gandy, head of sales, communications, and cultural affairs at La Dérive Brasserie Artisanale in Gatineau [notes, a]ccording to reports, the cost of a can could potentially increase by 10 to 30 cents. “If it were as simple as raising the price of a can and passing it on to customers, it wouldn’t be so complicated,” said Sébastien. “The real issue is that we’re already in a price war since there’s competition between microbreweries and macrobreweries, which always have the upper hand… Ultimately, we’re caught in a political war that makes no sense, where we don’t have the tools to achieve our goals,” he said. “I think we still feel a desire among the population to encourage smaller local players.

And elsewhere in the land, we see that desire play out with perhaps surprisingly patriotic themes:

In response to repeated threats to Canada’s sovereignty and a trade war, Newfoundland and Labrador breweries want you to grab a cold one in solidarity. On Wednesday Landwash Brewery in Mount Pearl unveiled On Guard, a Canadian pale ale made with only Canadian ingredients, like Quebec hops… In downtown St. John’s, Yellowbelly Brewery co-owner and publican Craig Flynn is individually rolling each label on to individual cans for a new brew called Elbows Up. “Sovereignty is a very big belief in Canada,” said Flynn. “If you want to come after us and try to bring us into the corner, we’re going to come back with our elbows up.”

We’re apparently so proud that we just might fight a bit dirty. Blame Gordie. We’re also just a bit weird. Well, it is a global economic crisis and election time so why not be weird? Speaking of the crisis, on Wednesday the US Department issued an addendum to the Trump Administration’s aluminum tariff that will cause some concern in the world of beer:

BIS in this notice revises Annex 1 to add the following two additional aluminum derivative products in Annex 1:

(1) beer; and
(2) empty aluminum cans.

There you have it. As of 12:01 am Eastern Time on Friday 4 April 2025 all canned beer imports will cost 25% more wholesale in the USA. So… that is it for this week. A reasonable set of reads. Nothing too exotic. But some looming panic. Still, remember that there wil be a special prize for pictures of politicians at the taproom. Was Poilievre pouring in Freddie’s Beach on Monday? I need to check that out.

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

*I like to place the blame on someone other than myself for things like this but, if I am honest, it’s been a bit of a blur recently with two of us covering the work of eight for a few days, three for a bit more than that and four for longer. We hope to be up to five in a few weeks so, with any luck, I can get back to really goofing off now and then.
**Under that link, there’s an interesting comment from an officer of a megabrewer: “…but it’s not an insubstantial amount of liquid…“

The Session #144: Critique not Criticism

Matthew is hosting this months edititon of The Session and has posed a puzzle that has gotten me thinking, the question of criticism v. critique:

Whereas criticism involves building an argument about why you think something is simply good or bad, critique involves taking a more holistic approach, using carefully researched and considered analysis to build a reasoned, objective, and possibly even entertaining take that benefits readers by giving them good quality information to consider.

My first thought was that I would write about beer writing but I sort of do that every week. But… that question. Eight days ago I wrote that I was trying to work out how this isn’t a distinction without a difference.*  Building any good argument always requires considered analysis. Isn’t this just a question of good and poor criticism? I mean isn’t it obvious that all “very good writers… work hard at building a fair critique“? Just because you work done’t mean you succeed every time… or ever for that matter. I am not in a snit, by the way. I understand it’s a good question but I am just trying to get my head around how to answer it.

Hmm… don’t we also have to admit that there is an extra layer to this with beer. Aren’t we, sadly, lumbered with the legacy of Jackson** who wrote, I am told, in 1987:

If I can find something good to say about a beer, I do. Any merit or unusual aspect is, I believe, of interest to my readers. That is why I choose to write about it in the first place … Nor since I have the whole world from which to choose, can I be comprehensive. If I despise a beer, why find room for it? This poses a problem only when a beer is too big to ignore.

The trouble for those who followed his lead is that craft itself got too big to ignore, which led to the leading of lots of people to spend their money buying lots of beer from lots of breweries. Without a filtering friend for guidance, however, because the governing principle was fixed. As a result, too often we’ve had to deal with the hooray for everything approach. Which means not only are bad beers not to be assessed honestly but neither are ill thought out styles or even dodgy breweries. Don’t mention the bad stuff! Schtom!! Because… what… criticism (“booo!“) in good beer is subjective while fawning praise (yay!!!) is objective… apparently?*** But is that all there is? Is there any point going over that all again? It is what it is. So I am not going to write about that. Nope.

Despite that… is there any good critical thinking in beer writing beyond the consulto PR? Why doesn’t good generate much of a body of independent peer reviewed thought, either academic or pop culture? Are there even any great beer writers? Well, there are some I can name just as examples. The Beer Nut has established the stylish standard for considering each beer in itself and calling out poor performers. Katie Mather has raised the bar for writing on the experience of both sides of a pub’s taps. And the works of Martyn as well as the Law of Lars pretty much means you can no longer rehash fable as fact. Yes, there are more than a few glimmers. Which is why I still have an interest in the weekly updates. But… I am not going to write about that. Not. At. All.

Yet… we have an excellent example most excellently provided by the excellent Laura Hadland who (like the kid ahead of me in math class who finished the test early and left the answers in view) posted her submission for The Session earlier this week and, in doing so tied excellence in writing to – err… what to call it – reticence in writing when she recalled her first paid reviewing experience:

…the restaurant got in touch with the paper. It turned out that they were in the midst of a battle with the residents who lived on the same street over the noise and odour produced by their flue over and about those properties. The restaurant accused me of being a plant by this co-op of neighbours and giving them a bad review ‘for the cause’. Which was, of course, utter nonsense, but I later discovered that one of the enthusiastic readers emailing me about my fine review was indeed one of the residents. The whole thing was downright bizarre and quite the furore. It all left a very bad taste in the mouth (and not because of the dodgy food or alleged dodgy flue) but I’m not really sure I learned very much except that you never know when you are going to accidentally stir up a hornet’s nest of local politics.

Exactly. So how, then, can one pick a theme in which to develop a critique when the topic potentially denies and even inhibits the construct of fulsome review itself? (And, while we are at it, why is the meta stuff sucking at the very heart of me this month?) Well, by way of relief, I was sorta struck by this passage on the meaning of fandom in The New York Times this week that offered me perspective:

Thankfully I also believe, in the grander sports-as-metaphor-for-life sort of way, that my Metsian prism on the world is fundamentally the correct one. Which is to say, we’re all losers most of the time. We’re all a little Metsy some of the time. We may have success, yes, but we can’t completely avoid failure and the sooner we embrace it, the happier we’ll be. There’s a reason so many Mets fans, myself included, remain delusionally optimistic after all these years, despite all the horrors we’ve seen and the LOLs we’ve endured. The highs are high, and the lows are low, and no matter how high things get we believe with religious fervor that a new low is just around the corner. But also, right behind that, possibly another high. It’s not a terrible way to go through life.

I give you Mr. Met. What does Mr. Met do? They win? He smiles! They suck? He smiles! Why? Well, perhaps it’s the paper mache head, sure, but sports fandom sits at the far end of the continuum from ugly local politics. We understand in this sort of fandom that there is the relationship and there is the knowledge – plus I suppose the honesty about the relationship and the knowledge. Can one both offer critique and have the relationship? How far can it go? I think that is actually the problem with beer writing. Writing by fans or for fans or most often both.  How else can you explain the obvious but continuing botch of IPA: as tradition, as an appropriated style, as a fragmented set of styles and then a meaningless yet all purpose brand of some sort. Yet it works somehow. Is it really a problem? Is IPA is the equivalent of Mr. Met? Fun and certainly associated but not vital. Frankly, do you really want to dig in deep?  When you think of it a bit too much, he’s actually a freakish zoolological and metaphysical horror!! It’s a human with a massive baseball for a head, for God’s sake. Who were his parents? How does he even go to the dentist?? Don’t ask. Just don’t ask.

We just sorta like Mr. Met like we sorta like IPA. One could even ask “who would crap on Mr. Met??” Maybe Phillies fans, I suppose. But who needs that? Who craps on IPA? Who needs to if it has become a meaninglessness? We let it go. We set aside the knowledge in favour of the relationship.

So if good beer hasn’t given rise to a body of critique, as Matthew correctly posits, is it perhaps because it isn’t necessary to do so? Believe it or not, from time to time I have some critical thoughts about the beer trade. No, it’s true. And I have also written histories which have sought to untangle fact from myth. But is a point missed when one does that? Or perhaps too much of that? Or only that? Or something like that?****

*A legal phrase found in Canadian rulings, by the way.
**Whose writing, as Churchill said of Russia, was never as strong or as weak as it looked.
***Matther acknowledges this when he wrote: “If beer culture hasn’t matured enough for writers to levy fair, objective critique of culture, products and processes, then I would argue it hasn’t matured at all.” Which may be correct. But I am not writing about that. Even though the “brewer’s intention” stuff drives me bonkers. As if that’s known.
****Finis. Amplifer fluens. (Applause!) Te relinquo.

The Super Secret Thursday Beery News Notes That Even Hegseth Couldn’t Leak

What a week. A Canadian Federal election was called. The US government proved once again it is led by numpties. And the opening day for Major League Baseball is here. And… The Session. Who was the numbskull who decided that the return of The Session would also have a regular dedicated Friday deadline right after his beery news notes deadline? Me. Yup. That’s who. I know how Maureen feels. “What a moron you are Al,” she says. Maureen, by the way, was not only recreating the first moment she ever read my writing. She was out there fighting against the forces of darkness and her feelings were excellently captured by USA Today in her “holy fucking moley” mode at a townhall event with Senator Chuck Grassley.*  Anyway, Matthew is hosting this month’s edition and your are encouraged to get your fingertips a’tappin’** on the question of…

For the March 2025 edition of The Session I’m asking participants to produce a piece of critical writing about beer or pubs… The aim is not to be judgemental, subjective or to showcase any particular bias; this is not some finger-wagging exercise. Whereas criticism involves building an argument about why you think something is simply good or bad, critique involves taking a more holistic approach, using carefully researched and considered analysis to build a reasoned, objective, and possibly even entertaining take that benefits readers by giving them good quality information to consider.

Get at it!! What else is going on? No, not this… that’s got nothing to do with beer. Ah, yes… this! Ed has reported on a long awaited innovation in hoppetry:

…even more exciting than that is the news that a hop breeding mission going back at least 70 years has finally reached a successful conclusion: a wilt-tolerant Fuggle has been developed. Verticillium wilt is a fungal disease that can devastate hop crops and is difficult to treat… The need for a wilt-tolerant Fuggle is mentioned in a paper back in 1955 and in 2013 I heard the long quest might be only three years away from a successful conclusion. It’s taken considerably longer  that that but craft beer geeks everywhere will be delighted to learn that variety 15/10/23 has now completed its trials and it beer made with it no noticeable change of taste was detected compared to true Fuggle. The hop was released in late 2024 as Wye Fuggle.

Nice. Staying with hops, Stan released the new edition of Hop Queries at the end of last week and shared this tidbit:

Alex Barth, then president of John I. Haas, showed this chart at the 2015 American Hop Convention. It tracks hop usage since 1971. One hundred years ago brewers used the equivalent of 12.6 grams of alpha acids per hectoliter (26.4 gallons, or 85% of a 31-gallon barrel). That had fallen to 9.1 grams in 1971 and continued to drop regularly until it was just over 4 grams in 2011. It ticked up to 4.5 grams in 2011, climbed in the years that followed, and will be about 4.7 grams this year.

Which, once again, makes me want a recreated version of something like Dominion White Label to show what big ales from the early 1900s were really like. Similarly perhaps, The Beer Nut offered an explanation of “spice bag” to my eternal gratitude in case I want to undertake a recreation.

Stan also gave me plenty to poach… err… to consider in his weekly update on Monday, including this from Phil Cook on the appearance of beer related clues in The New York Times crossword puzzles:

Since noticing a reference to modern hazy IPA in the New York Times crossword and wondering what that “meant” in terms of beer’s currency in the popular culture, I’ve been keeping a tally of what else comes up. I recently realised I had a full calendar year worth of such records, and the urge to make a spreadsheet and go looking for patterns came on predictably strongly (for me) after that. The result: ninety-nine appearances, clumped around a few themes, with “ale” and “ipa” done to death, a few favoured brand names, some real clangers, and the occasional delight. I think I got all the beer-related clues and answers.

Speaking of games, did you hear Laura Hadland on BBC 4’s You and Yours talking about pub games this week?

Question: am I horrible for hating branded glassware? I mean I like a nice glass and even have a significant degree of sympathy for an anatomically correct drinking vessel for any certain sort of drink. But, as I consider these sensible thoughts from Boak and Bailey…

This brings us to another problem: a glass of Budvar is much less enjoyable when it’s served in a bog standard British pint glass, with no foam, rather than in a branded mug with a good head. We don’t demand perfect Czech-style ‘pours’ and utter reverence – only an acknowledgement that it’s a bit more than a pint of lager. When that rep visited The Old Stillage, and The Swan, they apparently left behind boxes and boxes of pretty convincing Czech-style mugs. Round, ribbed, slightly squat. The beer looked and tasted great.

…I am all “yup… yup… sure… definitely…” as it all makes sense and then a whisper of a “nope” when there’s mention of a glass with a logo on it. No go the logo. See, I don’t like clothes with the manufacutures’ ads on them. I remember picking the embroidered polo player off the chest of a very nice shirt I once found in a vintage place. Too Heathers. Also – and probably more importantly – it buggers up the look of the beer. Does an apple need a wrapper? Nope. It’s an awkward imposition. Plus it’s a bit “oooh, look at me buying the good stuff” frankly. Branded glasses are the Tesla trucks of beer. There. I said it. Speaking of logos, here’s a question: can it ever be OK to have a representation of a young woman in a UK beerfest advertising:

Emily Ryans, sponsorship manager at St Albans Beer & Cider Festival, explained the reasoning behind the design in a statement: “Rather than adopting soulless corporate branding, we instead choose to highlight a different piece of local history each year, and on this occasion are marking the centenary of Ballito Hosiery Mill. In doing so, we’ve been inspired by Ballito’s 1950s advertising, exhibited by St Albans Museum”… “The character in our logo is a confident, empowering woman, designed to both celebrate the important history of a factory that employed hundreds of local women, as well as make the point that beer festivals – which have suffered from a traditionally male image – are open to all,” Ryans continued. 

Of course it is and this seems reasonable. Also being reasonable, here’s an interesting twist on the US tariffs and Canadian provinces’ booze ban response is how it has led to questions like when is a beer is a Canadian beer… even if the brand is American:

In wake of U.S. tariffs, the Saskatchewan Liquor and Gaming Authority (SLGA) said it notified beverage alcohol retailers, distributors and producers that American-branded products wouldn’t be sold or distributed in the province. The SLGA originally released a list of 54 American alcohol brands, including Bud Light, Blue Moon, Busch, Kirkland Wine and others… Labatt Breweries of Canada says it employs about 3,500 people in the country and brews brands like Bud Light, Busch and Budweiser in Canada… On Monday, the government walked back its decision. It said in a statement that the move aligned with other provinces and that it would focus on alcohol produced in the U.S.

Speaking of remote wastelands, if you ever need to get from Luton to Moldova, Martin has led the way – and done so in daring fashion seeing as the place is in the Kremlin‘s crosshairs.

Digging further into that map you’ll see not only how close Iaşi is to the Moldovan border, but how close you are to place names like Kherson and Zernov’s Phyllophora Field. 20 minutes after walking through the Arrivals door at Iaşi, we’re at central Piata Independentei and it’s all looking very Communist era. And a bit eerily quiet. “LOOK ! There’s a place saying BEER !” says Mrs RM, urgently.

Thrilling tales of discount holidays replicating The Third Man or what! Martin: “any chance of a slice of lime for the lager?” Bartender: “lime, sir? Harry Lime?”

ADMISSION: here’s that surprise I mentioned above… I forgot to finished this week’s update. Wednesday got away from me. Work stuff. Home stuff. Dinner out. I woke up at 3:25 am and it was like being in a movie – snapping upright, close up on my horrified face, shouting “NNNNNOOOOoooooo!!!” Not really. So maybe I’ll fill in a few more items over the day in this penultimate space I leave for a few last stories.

Update at my 10:40 am ciggie break:*** I had actually bookmarked this piece from Mudgie-man on one retro pub move he liked:

… hang on a minute, isn’t this “unique concept” simply reverting back to how pubs used to be a couple of generations ago? Back in the 1960s, most pubs had, at the very least , two separate bars, a public bar with plainer furnishings and a more down-to-earth atmosphere, where drinkers in working clothes would be served, and a more comfortable, sedate and genteel lounge. Back in those days, the beer was usually a bit cheaper in the public bar as well. However, over the years, brewers steadily knocked their pubs through into a single room. This was in tune with the spirit of the age, being seen as more modern, inclusive and egalitarian. It also made supervision of the pub easier and, at a time when public bar prices were regulated by law, allowed the pub to charge the higher lounge prices throughout. It’s now relatively uncommon to find a pub with completely separate “sides” and, even where they do, the old price differential has disappeared.

And I had noticed one odd thing about this article in the NYT about rich brats and their spring break trips to the Bahamas – the price:

One student at each school is informally appointed a representative for GradCity, rounding up peers to book the trip and serving as a liaison with the company. At some schools, the position is handed down as an honor. The trips cost about $2,700 a person for five nights with four students sharing a room. An additional $250 “platinum pass” provides access to sunset cruises and other amenities. Longer stays and rooms with fewer students cost more. In exchange for their work, student representatives can qualify for a discounted or free trip. Sometimes, students raise funds or pool money to pay for peers who cannot afford the trips on their own.

That is pretty much the same price as a normal (if not taken by my kids) school grad trips. I understand teen participants from my part of the world go to Japan or Ireland, say, for around $5,000 a pop. Maybe more. Is the NTY concern the access to alcohol in nations where there isn’t a nutso ban on drinking under 21 years of age?

[Update over…]

One last thing. With the Federal election on up here, I need to get photos of the leaders of each party pouring a draft beer. They always have to pour a draft beer in at least one photo op during the campaign. Trudeau Jr. in 2021. Jack Layton in 2011. And, from the same year, even an unlikely backhander from Stephen Harper. It’s the law. I picked that fact up when I used to be a pundit. Send them in if you see ‘em.

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

*Fight!!!
**Write!!!
***One need not smoke to have a ciggie break.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Session #144: What’s That Down There Back There In The Stash?


What’s that down there, back there in the stash? Why it’s a beer. Beer. Mmmm… But what beer? Depends. Is it 2005 or 2006? It is tidy and well stocked? Or is it a bit of a mess? In last month’s contribution for The Session, I wrote about how the best thing in beer since 2018 was the advent of home delivery, brought on by the pandemic but carried on due to an inordinate amount of bureucratic common sense. Once it’s delivered, it gets stored down in the stash.

Currently, the shelves of the stash are loaded down with wine. Having a good rest, waiting perhaps for a Christmas dinner in my retirement. Another change of habits brought on during the pandemic. Was it all those chips in those vaccines that made me do that? Can’t tell you. But it’s not all wine down there. One thing that always seems to have a home in the stash is the Světlý Ležák from Godspeed of Toronto. $3.55 a can plus shipping plus tax. Except this one came during the holiday sales tax holiday. Sweet. A credible beer. My beer of 2024. When I reorder my box from Godspeed it’s usually half full of this one beer.

Over the two decades that I have been scribbing here about beer, I have taught myself plenty. I lined up and knocked back IPAs before they were what they became. And I studied sour before there were sours. You watched me learn. In August 2016, my contribution to The Session was about how I knew nothings about good pilsners, concluding:

You know, in 2006 I made something of an admission when I wrote “I just can’t imagine when I am supposed to crave steely stoney dry grassiness.” Is that it? It’s just not my thing?

And by pilsners, let’s face it, I really meant all sorts of lagers. Max responded by saying that Světlý Ležák was one of his favourite types of beer. “What the heck was that?” thought I at the time. Now, thanks to Godspeed of Toronto and a handy global pandemic, it’s one of my favourite types, too. Now I’m going to go have one.

These Are The Beery News Notes For The Dump Of Snow Finally Showed Up

Well, what can you say. Moscow and Washington making kissy face as planes literally roll off the runway. We had a nasty dump of snow locally, the first it feel like in years, but elsewhere in the province we hear that the school kids are basically back on remote learning this winter. The green onions readying for the garden in a few weeks look out the window in horror. I know the feeling.

For all the change going on, at least we can take comfort that The Session continues! The hosts for this February are Boak and Bailey who announced the topic:

What’s the best beer you can drink at home right now? Not necessarily right now. You can go to the shops if you like. But you shouldn’t have to get on a train or a flight. Or travel back in time. If you like, you can choose a top 3, or top 5, or top 10. What makes it a good beer to drink at home? Is it brewed to be packaged? Does it pair well with your home cooking? Does it pair well with drinking in your pyjamas?

Get writing!  Your submissions are due on Friday, February 28th.  Andreas Krennmair has been writing. And wrote this week about the brewing tradition in the German state of Württemberg and the distinction between the “gewerbsmäßig” and the “Privatbrauereien” in that region in the 1800s:

Normally, “private breweries” at the time referred simply to privately owned breweries, as opposed to publicly owned breweries (of which people own shares) or communal breweries (owned e.g. by the citizens of one particular town or city by virtue of their citizenship). But in this case, the private breweries were strangely juxtaposed with commercial ones… so, were private breweries non-commercial? Turns out, yes: in parliamentary records of the local parliament of Württemberg from 1853, I found a description of what constituted private brewing: it was the non-commercial brewing by Upper Swabian farmers, where it was customary for all farmers who owned larger farms to also own a brewing kettle in order to brew beer for their own use, which included the house drink for the farm workers…

Speaking of unpacking things found in central European digital records, I missed last week when Alistair of Fuggled fame wrote about Josef Groll, the first brewmaster at the brewing company that today is generally known by the brand Pilsner Urquell. What caught my eye was this:

Another fact about the actual beer being produced in Plzeň also caught my eye – that there were 2 types of beer being brewed at Pilsner Urquell, the famed 12° lager and an 11° schankbier, which may have at some point become a 10° version that was known within living memory. The schankbier, the German equivalent of “výčepní”, would be sent out to beer halls to be stored for 2 or 3 weeks before being ready to be drunk, while the lagerbier left the brewery ready to be tapped on arrival, and was mainly consumed during the summer months.

Question: is this schankbier in late 1800s Germany the same as this schenk beer in late 1800s German immigrant community in America? Have a look at footnote #1: “A kind of mild German beer; German draught or pot beer, designed for Immediate use.” Hmmm…

Speaking of ready to be drunk, Laura Hadland wrote an excellent piece for CAMRA on the nature of small beer in English history… and, more importantly, the experience of hunting down that bit of history:

It  occurred to me that we are applying our modern sensibilities to the past. We can just about bend our heads around the idea of a weak beer being consumed in quantity throughout the day. It’s harder to accept that drinking anything approaching a strong beer from dawn til dusk could be the norm. It just sounds mad. But we know that beer drinking was unproblematic and socially acceptable in the early 18th century – consider the gentle serenity of Hogarth’s portrayal of Beer Street next to the debauched depravity of Gin Lane in his famous prints. At the time of the Beer Act in 1830, beer is referred to in the House of Commons as “the second necessary of life.”

Remember: small beer has always sorta made itself due to the nature of mashing. You can chuck away the spent malt after first runnings or make small beer.

Ashleigh Arnott got the nod in Pellicle this week with her portrait of a rather unpolished place, The Rutland Arms in Sheffield, Engerland. I quite liked this aspect of the pub’s weirdness:

The jukebox policy at the Rutty is notorious. Insert your pound but choose wisely, abiding by the rules on the chalkboard above. The ‘permabanned’ list features local acts—Arctic Monkeys, Pulp, Richard Hawley—and the sort of bands that Guardian readers know they should never admit to liking: U2, Frank Turner, Foo Fighters, et al. And Taylor Swift, she’s also permabanned, though I suspect it didn’t need saying. Staff decide what’s in the ‘Recommended’ and ‘Forbidden’ columns according to whims, mainly, with a hint of current affairs-based silliness. Even co-owner Chris Bamford can’t overrule it.

The photos that accompany the pice are also excellent, though I fear that the one of the solo pubgoer on a phone brought the phrase “lost in someone else’s thoughts” to mind. Do pubs not still stock newspapers? Are there newpapsers to be stocked? Who has money for that? Speaking of which… where’s all the money in the brewing industry going these days what with threats of tariffs floating all around ? Well…

…the most important new investment made by Berkshire Hathaway (NYSE:BRKa) is Constellation Brands (NYSE:STZ). Buffett acquired 5,624,324 shares, making this position account for 0.5% of the portfolio, with a total value of $1.24 billion.

And, at a lower level of investment, in the latest monthly edition of London Beer City Will Hawkes shared interesting feature on the return of what are described as “traditional” pubs with a measure, as is often the case in such matters, of what looks like gentrification in this discussion with pub developer, Adrian Kinsella:

His aim was to turn the pub around, to attract a more varied clientele, to combine traditional levels of comfort with the quality now typical among Britain’s best small breweries… “[It’s about] taking the best of the old-school hospitality and putting it with the best of the new service standards around beer, and the best of the food, the amazing small street-food operators,” he says. “If you marry that together, that’s the sweet spot.” There won’t be tables laid up for food at the Coach and Horses, though. Kinsella says he’s not chasing numbers; if someone wants to sit over a pint for a few hours, that’s fine. His or her glass won’t be cleared. Beer will cost what it costs. “We’re not gouging, but when [beer is] too cheap, someone is getting the rail and it’s normally the staff,” Kinsella says. “All our staff are on London living wage.”

Speaking of noises made in pubs, “The Baby of the Pub” was the title of Katie M’s piece in the December 2024 edition of Ferment, a UK beer vendor’s inhouse magaine, and it was shared this week via her newsletter The Glug to share with us all the story of one wee pub goer… who is one:

The baby of the pub is growing up in a world where the pub is a normal part of his life. It’s teaching him to treat the pub as a natural meeting place, rather than a posh restaurant or an illicit drinking den. He’s being taught to enjoy hanging out here. And why shouldn’t he? This was our favourite place long before he was born, and now it is his. It’s a pleasure and an honour to teach him the ways of our local pub, and as he grows we’ll have new milestones to celebrate — his first packet of Scampi Fries, his first lime and soda, the first time he flips a beermat. One day he’ll be getting the rounds in and teaching his friends how to properly order at the bar—what a thought! 

Back in Germany, news is breaking that would shock any law abiding Canadian… voters are being bribed with beer:

The city of Duisburg in western Germany has come up with an unorthodox way to lure reluctant voters to the polling station. Voters who cast absentee ballots in the city center by 2 p.m. local time (1300 GMT) on Saturday were given a voucher for a drink to spend at a beer cart next to the polling station… In the 2021 federal election, for example, only 63.3% of voters in the Duisburg II constituency turned up to vote, compared to a national average of 76.6%. “With this unusual campaign, our carnivalists are ensuring that the federal election is once again in the spotlight. It also appeals to citizens who are not persuaded to vote by the usual election posters or information campaigns,” Murrack said, describing it as “a clear benefit for voter turnout and therefore for our democracy!”

Huzzah! Isn’t that what was said in the 1890s? Liam of IrishBeerHistory has announced that he is going to pause doing his series 100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects half way along “but not writing – to assess my options.“ Still he did share one more story, a story about a button:

This small button measuring 3cm (1 3⁄16 inches) in diameter is made of a copper alloy – possibly brass – and shows some green patination where the gilding has worn away to expose the base metal. It is probably from the livery uniform of one of the draymen who worked for the Anchor Brewery of John D’Arcy & Son on Usher Street, not far from where those aforementioned other-uniformed squads lined up. It features the words ‘J. D’Arcy & Son Ltd. Brewery’ and a nicely embossed anchor whose pronged ends appear to resemble demons’ tails. 

And I liked this story about one way drinkers got around the restrictions imposed during US Prohibition:

The unnamed ship turned out to be a glamorous offshore bar. To get aboard the reporter paid a $5 cover charge (about $90 today), with another $5 for a stateroom. Once settled, he was ushered into a festive room with “a jazz orchestra, staff of busy bartenders and a party of sixty revelers who danced the night away.” They were young and old, men and women, but all quite wealthy with “polished manners and a democratic demeanor.” The crew was well dressed and spoke with cockney accents; from them one could order a scotch for $1 or a mint julep for $2.50. 

In Ontario, we had a number approaches to the drinking tourism brining Americans north but, of course, we should be proud of the fact that brewing itself never ceased up here – even during Canadian Temperance – to the point that Labatt sent so much beer south that it expanded its work force by over fifty percent.*

Finally, I found this piece in VinePair on the current Guinness situation odd, mainly I suppose as it tried to apply and drawn lessons for brewers in the US. Consider this:

Not to put too fine a point on it, but Guinness is that story. Its current success is the result of the sort of patient, holistic investment across the on- and off-premises that used to be the beer industry’s block and tackle. “The way that I’ve described this to people is, [Guinness] is a political movement,” says Roth. “It includes not just changing minds, but changing actual behaviors.” Its dominance in bars and restaurants has helped to influence consumers beyond their confines, too. That’s only grown more obvious as the beer aisle has grown more overwhelming. 

Nowhere in the story do the words “Baltimore” or “closed” pop up. Nor is there a suggestion of manufactured scarcity. Or a lucid consideration of the success of Guinness goes well beyond the beer rep, well beyond beer itself to a cultural fascination that has been in place for decades if not centuries based on the broader love of all things Irish** actual and faux from St. Patricks Day to The Clancey Brothers, from River Dance and to the identikit pubs. And that the beer itself has had these sorts of peaks upon peaks thoughout that time. The widget over 35 years ago. The Quiet Man over 75 years ago. Imported barrels over 165 years ago. Yes, it is good for the brewery to have existed for all that time but the presumption to make an association with Anchor Brewing or Leinenkugel’s or that it serves as an example and not a sui generis phenomenon is a bit telling.

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

*What?? $43.99??? At that price, no doubt the authority on the matter.
**My late father born of Greenock called the equivalent “professional Scots” and you can read Billy Connolly’s autobiography Windswept & Interesting for more detail on that point.