Your “Don’t Let The Door Hit You On The Way Out, February 2026” Edition Of The Beery News Notes

cat on carpet before a TV screen with hockey players playingFebruary does one decent thing each year. It is short. We were also one goal short the other day. But that is a different thing. Canada is outraged to the point of almost saying something. In our house, the cat spoke for us all. Stunned disbelief twinned with a day dream about what was in the food bowl in the next room. I hope we get over it …soon. Even Trump was oddly gracious. In passing during the State of the Union he said of the gold medal win “…they beat a fantastic Canadian team in overtime, as everybody saw. ” Hardly triumpalist gloating.  The cat’s reaction was the same: “…food bowl… food bowl…

Let’s jump into it, shall we? Katie M has shared thoughts over at The Gulp on her return to a favourite spot, The Highland Laddie, in the perhaps less than loved city of Leeds. Being related to generations of Highland laddies and perhaps being accused of being one on occassion, I am won over by the headline. But there is more, a hidden elder gem amongst a brutalist landscape:

The room smells of the woodburning stove and warming comfort food, and as the rain sets in for the night outside, I get the distinct feeling I could spend the whole evening here. But it is 4.30pm and I have somewhere else to be. My evening plans end earlier than I expected them to, and so instead of heading back to my room at Leeds’ premier drag showbar directly, I pop into The Highland Laddie for another pint. I like to play-act at being a regular in pubs that make the effort to make me wish I was one. I order a pint, poured just as black and white as the last, and watch the pub slowly close down around me with the exercised ease of a team who have hospo work in their bones. The rush is over and the tables are free for all until closing; a small group of students are drinking cider on the table opposite and talking about current affairs in broken soundbites. I get my book out and settle into my corner banquet for a cosy hour before heading back.

Lovely. Bear with me. More on pubs. It’s a bit pub heavy this week. Frankly. Let’s move to a happy sort of seasonal note from Sean of Tom’s Tap in Crewe:

I must say the sun being out and being able to pay suppliers is infinitely preferable to it pissing down and having to ring them to say you can’t because it rained all weekend. Thanks to everyone who came in this weekend, you made a difference.

Sun’s out, sales up. Interestingly, the effects of the poor weather elsewhere in England had another decidedly opposite result:

After a record-breaking start to the year for rainfall, some businesses in Richmond, North Yorkshire, claim that rather than deter customers, the weather has encouraged them to spend time inside and open their wallets. Daniel Williams, landlord of The Town Hall pub said takings at the start of 2026 were up 20% compared to previous years. “The weather being as terrible as it is has really helped us – people are looking to escape the horrible weather, so we certainly can’t complain at the moment,” he said. “We’ll get massive groups in because they’ll have come out for a walk, got sick of the walk and then come into us, so it’s been very positive for business I’d say.”

Pouring rain? Sales… up.  David J wrote excellently for CAMRA’s publication What’s Brewing about the theory of social cohesion and the British pub:

Alcohol has its many downsides as I can attest having a childhood punctuated by my father’s alcoholism, but it lowers people’s inhibitions making them willing to talk. It’s why you’re more likely to spark up a conversation over an interesting cask beer instead of waxing lyrical to the person next to you about the smooth flavour of an Arabica coffee bean… The other argument that “local shops perform similar functions” to pubs may have an element of truth. I do chat a lot with a friend who works in a deli near me and I’m very fortunate to do so. And fortunate is a key word because this is a rare gift that not many areas have: a thriving high street with varied shops.

Got the urge to chat? Go to the pub. But cultures differ. We still have towns with maybe fewer shops but there are some plus active bakers and butchers over here as well as a cultural cornerstone of a coffee chain. One unexplored question that always nags me about the argument is this: what’s with all the inhibition in Britain?  I’ve never been more accosted by conversation sparkers than at a church supper – but maybe that’s because I was a minister’s kid and was an easy target. Outside of session, even court work was always a chatty chummy time when I was a young lawyer… even if the humour leaned towards the grim.  I wonder if there is a causation question at play. Yet… David also recently wrote about the pub in a time of mourning and it may help answer it from a subtler point of view: it is the place, by choice or tradition, where such things happen so that is where they happen. See? I get my learning from my reading.

So… don’t know what to say? The pub helps. Yet, and perhaps again conversely, Pete B. wrote a great piece in The Times on the joy – and value – of cans of beer at home:

“The 4-pack pint can is most popular format for lager buyers in convenience stores, growing at 9.4 per cent over the last year. People in convenience stores are usually on-the-go. The pint can feels like good value, especially as they’re quite often price-marked packs.” This value deal seems important. We are spending less on alcohol, something which applies to our supermarket shopping too — beer sales at the supermarket were down £371 million to £7.37 billion last year. And drinkers know that beer in pubs is more expensive than in supermarkets. If you can see that four pints is costing you £6.95, it brings a pint in a pub — which in the UK costs on average about £5 — into much sharper perspective…

To review. Highland Laddie? Comfy. Sun’s out, sales up. Pouring rain? Sales… up.  Got the urge to chat? Go to the pub. Don’t know what to say? The pub helps. If you have the means. If not? A tin at home. An antidote to funflation.

Note #1: Tune in later today for Jeff’s talk in US beer.
Note #2: Sharps Brewery in Corwall to close.
Note #3: “…disturbing accounts of industrial accidents…”

Terroir in cider? NO! There is clearly an “i” in the sentence. Not terror. Terrior. That’s the theme of the article what Barry himself guided us all to in Cider Review which wonderfully traces the history of the concept in depth, like in this passage which reveals the hidden truth:

Terroir as a term also took a sharp diversion through the 17th and 18th centuries. This is why, despite their veneer of modernity, a gulf of time and meaning separate early references to regionality in cider from the modern cider terroir conversation. To taste terroir – linguistically still a reference to land – was to experience a crude character shaped by natural setting. Even for Le Paulmier, it was often something inelegant or dirty; gôut de terroir, lauded by vintners today,was essentially a mouthful of soil. Provincial vineyards, at the mercy of their rural, unsophisticated settings, could only ever offer ‘terroir wines’ fit for the peasantry, themselves made rude and rough by that same land. By contrast, the carefully cultivated vineyards of the Île-de-France (the area around Paris) were free from terroir, producing elegant ‘cru wines’ reserved for the nobility.

Hah! Terroir meant dirty after all!! And, sticking with the agri, Laura Hadland wote about sustainability in the British vineyard for The Vinyard including this from Gary Smith, CEO of Silverhand Estate, the first UK vineyard to reach carbon-negative status, without the use of any carbon offsetting:

… we wanted to do more to ensure our land was at its absolute optimum. That meant going one step further and educating ourselves on regenerative farming. The sustainability aspect plays a huge part in this because through the work we do across both the vineyard and our arable lands we are acutely conscious of the impact each has upon the other. Learning how to work both business and land harmoniously has seen a huge benefit to our estate’s ecosystem. As a result the quality of all of our produce has improved – not just grapes, but our lamb, beef and estate-grown fruit and vegetables from our kitchen garden.

That’s how I run my 65 x 100 foot estate. Tomato seedlings are doing very well, thanks for asking!

Remember a few weeks ago when booze was back? Apparently, like the steady rains in Richmond mentioned above, things can change – if BMI is correct about the US beer market:

After a strong first 4 weeks of the year, with $$ up 3.5% and even volume up 2%, trends got considerably softer in the last 2 weeks in Circana multi-outlet + convenience data. Volume down 4.5% in latest week thru Feb 8, Super Bowl Sunday, following a 6% drop the week before. By 6 weeks in, sometimes trends for the year are already well established. But with these big early gyrations, that’s not the case so far in 2026.

In the follow up to the unendingly uninteresting story about the garage sale of the bits and pieces of BrewDog, there was a bit of a flitter on the social medias about (i) I told you so in 2011 and (ii) when was it exactly that the brewery defined itself as a den of arseholes? My candidate is this from July 2010:

Am I supposed to cheer along with the giving of the finger to 99.998% of customers for the sake of marketing? Or is this supposed to be Dada beer? Who cares. All I know is I am far less inclined to buy any BrewDog beer. Why? Because of this short sentence:

A response to the haters.

“Haters”? Good Lord. Are you twelve? This has to be the stupidest new usage of a word that has been imposed upon the language and there is far too much use of it in craft beer circles. It denies the right to disagree. It tells us to stop thinking and start following. You call in to question my freedom from being your sycophant, I call into question your business model.

While it is not important as to this moment, it is interesting to see how the co-opting of language was so contrived at the time… so curated. “Haters” as a term was a bit new to the mainstream. The comments in response noted the novelty. And a year and a half later, NPR wrote about how “haters” had become common, an appropriation from hiphop. Not quite a coining but planned. Probably triggering the criticism loop was itself the plan. Which led to the unhappy fanboys which led to the “investing” which led to the fat bank accounts for owners of what was in the end an unprofitable brewery. Quite a business model.

Speaking of my people, over on FB at the Scottish Rugby Family page which I have followed since seeing the tartaned ones thrash Canada in 2024 and meeting the admins in the pub, there was an important question asked of the group ahead of another Six Nations game away:

How’s the principality for getting a hip flask in?

I say important because not enough is written about sneeking booze in where it is not welcome. It’s part of the culture. Comments ranged “give it to your child to carry in” to a discussion on the various characteristics of the sporran. My favourite example is from 1977, I witnessed a gent in wide leg jeans semi-disrobe the there before we his neighbours at the goal end stand at Rugby Park in Kilmarnock. Concern was soon lifted once we realized he was not planning a career as a streaker but had duct taped two 1.5 litre bottles of Mateus to his calves. He soon drained the lot (which much impressed my Rev. Dad) and was arrested on the pitch early on in the second half – but that is beside the point. The point is we need a body of literature around this. An Oxford Companion to Sneaking In Booze.

Pellicle‘s feature this week is bay David Nilsen. It’s a visit to a Chicago landmark and homage to Belgium, Hopleaf Bar:

Michael didn’t want to recreate Cadieux Cafe exactly, but he did take it as proof that a bar cut from a different cloth could succeed if it found its audience. He took a design cue from European bars when laying out the space, a labyrinth of brick and burnished wood that’s adorned with signs from Belgian beer brands, both extant and erstwhile. He decided to install bookshelves rather than televisions. He subscribed the bar to periodicals like the New York Review of Books, Harper’s, the Atlantic, and London Review of Books. Essentially, he decided to create the anti-sports bar.

Finally, for Stan… a drunk chimps story:

There are many reasons why you might not want a wild chimpanzee to be operating heavy machinery. Now scientists have uncovered a new one: the ape may well fail a sobriety test. A study has shown that chimps living in the forests of Uganda regularly ingest enough naturally occurring alcohol to register levels that, in some workplaces, would trigger disciplinary action. The findings offer the strongest physiological evidence yet for the theory about why humans like alcohol, known as the “drunken monkey hypothesis”.

Having lived through two rounds of Planet of the Apes movies, I can confirm that I do not want chimpanzees on heavy machinery for any number or reasons. That it is for now. Until next week, please check out Boak and Bailey who are posting every Saturday and adding to their fabulously entertaining footnotes week after week at Patreon. And look out for more of Stan’s new “One Link, One Paragraph” format. Then hunt out something in someone’s archives! Leave oblique comments on someone’s post from 2009!! Listen to a few of Lew’s podcasts and get your emailed issue of Episodes of my Pub Life by David Jesudason on certain Fridays. And Phil Mellows is at the BritishBeerBreaks. Once a month, as noted, Will Hawkes issues his London Beer City newsletter and do sign up for Katie’s wonderful self-governing totes autonomous website featuring The Gulp, too.  Ben’s Beer and Badword seems to be on pause since November but there is reading at The Glass which is going back to being a blog. Any more? We have Ontario’s own A Quick Beer and All About Beer is still offering a range of podcasts – and there’s also Mike Seay’s The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast! And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast.

The “Happy False Thanksgiving Week !” Edition Of The Thursday Beery News Notes

We started watching the Ken Burns documentary on The American Revolution – which is a bit of a weird experience for someone living in a city settled by Loyalists. To be fair, regular mention is made of the experience of people enslaved in the third quarter of the 1700s as well as the fact that Indigenous nations were facing further dislocation. But the usual balance of one-third Revolutionary/Patriot, one-third Loyalist/Tory and one third just wanting the whole thing to go away doesn’t yet seem to be the guiding principle.* We’ll wait for further review after the next few episodes but seeing as we are (i) seven weeks after True Thanksgiving and (ii) a week out from “The Day before Black Friday” – aka the true start of the holiday madness – we’ll still raise a glass and wish you readers to the south a happy turkey day next week. The results of my own micro-colonial style dried bean harvest picked this very week is offered in solidarity.

Plenty of good reading this week. Let’s start a bit further back in history. Merryn gave the heads up that there was report published on the making of malt in the Paleolithic including at archaeological sites in Greece and Iraq:

The authors concluded that there was diversity and complexity of plant preparation at both sites, based upon the condition of the plant macrofossils that they found. People were processing wild pulses, nuts, grasses and cereals using several techniques, including crushing, pounding and grinding as well as soaking, steeping and mashing. Although many were made from pulses and nuts, some of the carbonised food fragments resembled charred bread-like foods or finely ground cereal meals, similar to those found at Neolithic and later prehistoric sites.

More recently – though personally it feels about as long ago – once upon a time about twenty years ago, Rogue had good representation on the shelves of Ontario’s LCBO with their reviews** being a regular topic around here. From 2004 to 2012 or so it was personal favourite, then a nation and then it was, for folk like me and Ed, a bit of a disappointment that lost my patonage. And now it is gone, as Jeff records in yet another brewery obit.

The news that Rogue had suddenly slammed shut the doors on all their pubs and breweries is growing more shocking the longer we have to consider it. As recently as last year, Rogue was still one of the largest breweries in the US—50th, according to the Brewers Association’s most recent report. It had been declining a bit in relative numbers on that list, but apparently still selling quite a bit of beer. It wasn’t a new start-up managing risky gambles, either. Rogue has been around 37 years, over three decades of them in their large brewery in Newport… These kinds of breweries don’t just close up in the dark of night. And the way the announcement was handled, with nary a word to the press and crudely-scrawled “closed” signs on the doors of their properties made it all the more surreal.

Interesting. “Crudely Scrawled” was the name of my punk ban in high school back in ’79. Little known fact.*** Chronologically speaking, Ben wrotes about the next stage in Ontario’s beer retailing history tightly following the entry of Rogue into the market – the era of the chosen of Toronto:

We – and by we I mean the brewers, the sales reps, the owners and the collective, foaming-at-the-mouth weirdos on the fringes — we beer writers and nerdy zealots with ink-stained tasting note Moleskins and Untappd obsessions — were a tribe of rabid gatekeepers. We knew what craft beer meant and, brother, if you were trying to fake it, you’d get fucked six ways to the weekend.  Pretenders were roughly shown the door — given a tongue-lashing by a frothy-mouthed and petulant Jordan St John at a beer festival, thoroughly trounced in posts on that esteemed journal of record, blogTO, or – worse – eviscerated in the merciless hellscape that was bartowel. Authenticity was the only currency worth a damn, and it was guarded and fawned over like a dusty six-pack of Westvleteren purchased from Brock Shepherd when he closed Burger Bar. Many a contract brewer was sent packing, red ink on their balance sheet, a case of Hogtown Brewery glassware rattling under their arms and their tail between their legs. But every revolution devours its children. And the fever broke. 

Then came fruit flavouring, then kettle sours and then it all went to fruity IPA Hell. And then… we’re here! The end. And where is here now – and what level of Hell is this now? According to Mudge, it’s Malebolge Level 3.4:

…the latest domino to fall is Fosters Lager, whose makers Heineken have announced that its strength will be reduced from 3.7% ABV to 3.4% with effect from February next year. It’s perhaps surprising to remember that it was 4.0% as recently as early 2023. Heineken claim that this is due to the drinking public demanding lower-strength beers, but in reality that is totally disingenuous, and the underlying reason is obviously the immense saving in beer duty. The British beer market was once dominated by what were regarded as “ordinary strength” session beers in the 3.6-4.0% strength range. But, over the past couple of years, since the duty cut-off at 3.4% was introduced, this entire sector has been pretty much wiped out, at least as far as keg beers are concerned. Carlsberg, Fosters, John Smith’s, Worthington, Boddingtons and Tetley have all been cut, leaving Carling as the last mass-market beer standing at 4.0%.

And in addition to the increasing weakness of the stuff, Pete asked us to consider the increasing price:

By March 2020 the average price of a pint of lager in the UK, according to the Office for National Statistics, had hit £3.75. In January 2025 it reached £4.83 and soon breached £5. Maybe those men in Stockport aren’t going to the pub any more. But what about everyone else? How much is too much for a pint? “I think we’re already through the barrier,” says Kate Nicholls, who chairs the trade organisation UKHospitality. “The £5 pint was a watershed for a lot of people. It’s different around the country, of course — it’s already more than £10 a pint at some London venues — but people everywhere are staying at home and pubs are closing. Our main competition is the sofa.”

And he shared a follow up cartoon in The Guardian on the same theme. Being a great indoorsman myself, the sofa has been a big part of my life so, yes, a night it the pub has been a rarer sort of event even for me. Drinks on top of meals while looking across the table at kids who all are card carrying drinking adults does put a chill on the thrill of a night out. Special occasions only. Miself out and about, reporting from the entertainments, Ed says “Quarts are Back!”:

I have been delighted to see the return of beer served in quart measures, albeit in plastic skiffs at concert venues. But sadly the word quart has become archaic in British English, and there was some confusion when I asked for two pints at the bar. Did I want two separate pints or two pints in one container? If we bring back the work quart this wouldn’t be a problem.  The quarts were advertised by a sign behind the bar encouraging people to “Upgrade to a two pint cup”. My humble suggestion is that they could start the re-education by simply adding “(quart)” to the sign after “two pint”. I’m sure people would soon catch on, after all we’ve managed to get by a random mix of metric and imperial measurements for decades.

That’s the whole post! As he is named, so he writes. Briefly. And as with sofas, so too I am with quarts. Though it has been a few years since I pulled my 1850s pewter pot down from the shelf. In the upper Ottawa Valley of the 1990s, one could refer a night out in the pub (before there ever were any kids!) as “going pinting” which led to uproarious laughter one day when I said I was “going quarting” as a lot of plain old beers like 50 or Laurentide could be bought just over the river in Quebec at a dep by the box of six… or was it by twelves?

So quarts are back… but you know who isn’t coming back? “Billy No Mates” sure ain’t – if it’s later than 9 pm and he’s trying to get into the Alibi in the suburbs of Manchester:

In an Instagram post founder and owner Carl Peter said the policy is in place ‘for the safety of guests’ and to prevent groups being ‘mithered’ by solo drinkers and to protect them from a ‘nightmare’ should ‘something happen to them’. After then citing an example where a hopeful customer described the policy as ‘discrimination’ and a disagreement about ‘being woke’, Carl said: “Sorry mate, you’re very easily offended. Are you single? Do you mean it’s because you’re single? Is that what you think this is saying?” The clip also shows an image of the bar’s entrance policy sign, which reads: “No single entry. After 9pm, Alibi does not permit single entry. If you are with guests already inside the venue, please contact them in advance of entry. This is for the safety of all guests.”

Seems like a nice spot, a cocktails bar featuring karaoke. Sounds like a simple “no arseholes” policy to me. Conversely but also in Greater Manchester, look who they did let in… pub quiz cheats!!!

Huddled around their tables, locals poured into The Barking Dog each week to take on a pub quiz – but one thing was amiss. The same team kept winning the prize of a £30 bar tab, leaving regulars scratching their heads and some stopped turning up in protest. Then, a twist. Bosses at the pub in Urmston, Greater Manchester, said they received an anonymous tip-off and caught the team “cheating red-handed” when players were spotted whispering into their smartwatches to get answers.

Along with the barred cheats, the union sets of Marston are now wandering around and may have even gone into hiding, as Laura Hadland illustrates in her report from Glasgow:

The business experienced significant financial distress, despite its recent injection of crowdsourced funds. Gareth Young, the brewery’s founder, has confirmed that Epochal has ceased trading, as efforts over the last six months to find a brewery partner to help revive the brand, have been unsuccessful. The company from which Epochal rented their Payne Street location, Cairn Business Solutions, reclaimed the unit in April 2025, taking back the keys and claiming ownership of the goods and equipment inside – including the historic union – due to a significant accrual of unpaid rent. The union itself remains safe inside the warehouse. 

Safe inside. That’s me. Man of the sofa. Which reminds me – the bumper crop this week now means I have to offer a few quick notes:

Note #1: pro-level whisky tasting.
Note #2: pro-level tariff fighting.
Note #3: “The Generosity of Beer People at the Bar“.
Note #4: “Eating and drinking in South Tyrol“.

Pellicle‘s feature this week is also about one sort of pub, the much mentioned often at the receiving end of comment – but perhaps not so fully unpacked thing, the micropub… specifically The Dodo in London operated by Lucy Do all as portrayed by Joey Leskin:

What makes a micropub? Lucy defines it clearly: “Micropubs are fiercely independent, supporting not only breweries but producers from graphic designers to crisp makers.” They have limited capacity and typically reject TVs and loud music, prizing conversation as the main form of entertainment. The forming of community is inherent and inevitable, with patrons unlikely to sit in isolated silence because—simply put—everyone is physically close. Over time, a community of ambassadors for The Dodo has emerged, calling themselves (with some irony) The Hanwell Massive. They’re easy to spot: Donning Dodo T-shirts at every beer festival, they span age, race and gender, and represent an almost cult-like following. Lucy laughs at the cult comparison, but knows it’s not that inaccurate.

A pretty attractive concept. Totally foreign to these parts. As foreign as those backstreet Tokyo ramen dives on TikTok. As foreign… as a very foreign thing.

While I am a fully signed up member of the Flag Institute,**** Boak and Bailey’s observations at Patreon about the English flag as poltical symbol in pubs was a good reminder that some foreign things are not as charming but it may be something that is undergoing change:

One of our local establishments has been flying several such flags as long as we’ve known it. Then, in around September, the management chose to take them down. Whatever was going on nationally they wanted no part of. The George on the Isle of Dogs wasn’t flying its own flag either, and The Alex in Canning Town was also unadorned. In reality, we’ve seen very little flag flying anywhere, except in the occasional outlying Bristol suburb. Even on the Isle of Dogs it seemed to be emanating from a single house with the concentration of flags reaching a bizarre intensity in and around its back yard. Presumbaly just one slightly odd person who really ought to get out more.

You want to get out? You should – and when you do you should take the advice that was a starling revelation within seven seconds of me reading the following words of Courtney Iseman at Hugging the Bar after two seconds of an intial mindless “yeah right… pfft!” reaction:

Just this past month or so, I’ve been upstate New York; in New Hope, Pennsylvania and nearby areas in New Jersey; and around New England—western to eastern Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Portland, Maine. At 90 percent of those bars, you’re much more likely to find vanilla appearing in more than one cocktail, and an overall menu so loaded with fruit that it’s clear the alcohol is supposed to be all but hidden. As a drinks writer, it’s an important reminder of how small our scopes can get when they should be sprawling—sure, savory cocktails are absolutely a trend, but it’s important to remember it’s not what the average Joe is sipping on. As a savory cocktail lover who involuntarily gags at the mere thought of a sweet drink, I wish this trend were indeed to grow further.

Why my strong reaction? My dream of a global savory porridge industry.**** Cheddar cheese with rosemary tips mixed in a steaming bowl of Quaker Oats. Bacony Red River cereal with brie and basil. Why not? Why is this not a thing? Something to have with a savory cocktail. Something… to pair…

That’s it. Another week goes by. As you contemplate my unfortunate sharing of thoughts on the Loyalists, sofa dwellers, flag collecting and savory oats,**** please also check out, Boak and Bailey on this and every Saturday and then sign up for their entertaining footnotes, too. Look out for Stan when he feels the urge now that he’s retired from Monday slot… maybe … maybe not. Then listen to a few of Lew’s podcasts and get your emailed issue of Episodes of my Pub Life by David Jesudason on certain Fridays. And Phil Mellows is at the BritishBeerBreaks. Once a month, as noted, Will Hawkes issues his London Beer City newsletter and do sign up for Katie’s wonderful self-governing totes autonomous website featuring The Gulp, too.  Ben’s Beer and Badword has returned from his break since April so you can embrace the sweary Mary! There is reading at The Glass which is going back to being a blog. Any more? We have Ontario’s own A Quick Beer and All About Beer is still offering a range of podcasts – and there’s also Mike Seay’s The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast! And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good and after a break they may well be are back every month!

*One of my American cousins is making fun of me for this position.
**Remember reviews?  Like “the ten imperial stouts I had this weekend“? Lordy!
***Because the logo was so hard to read! Total lie. Totes fibafibironies.
****Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerd!!!

The Thursday Beery News Notes For The End Of Summer 2025

There are good views out there. Lots of golden hour sunlight finishing up the days as we face the reality that, yes, winter is coming. Out and about that evening, I saw a frog and a hedge of jewelweed – but you’d expect that, wouldn’t you. I like how the angle of the shadow makes something of a right angle with the tree. I didn’t notice that when I took the photo. But even saying that makes it too artsie, less just see-ie. Similarly, writing about hops, Jeff wrote about a limitation but its really about two limitations. And it’s all a bit like dancing about architecture… but what isn’t:

The thing about adding more is at a certain point you don’t get more. We learned this when breweries were putting eight pounds per barrel of hops in their beers and making them taste like lawn clippings. To get more, you have to add different. And here I give you fresh hop beers. They offer a dimension of flavor that is different from regular kilned hops. Trying to describe them is hard because rather than just reaching for another adjective, we grope toward different realms of experience. Drinking a very good fresh hop beer is to experience synesthesia and encounter the taste of iridescent green.

Conversely yet still on the question of different, not as charming an experience was an airport sandwich sold to Matt Gross under the presumably personally seductive name “the Matthew”, it of the 10 slices of prosciutto:

…laid flat, one on the other, with no space between them, to form a dense, unchewable mound of salty protein. Look, sandwiches are all about architecture, and the meat, especially a powerfully flavored one like prosciutto, needs air. Each slice, thick or thin, should be separated from its brethren, folded gently and laid haphazardly (within reason) upon the bread. You want to feel the texture of the slices, the regular irregularity of the bite as your teeth pass through the layers. That sandwich needs to breathe. If it can’t breathe, it’s dead on the plate, limp and heavy, boring. R.I.P. Matthew. The great thing about this approach is that you can actually use less prosciutto per sandwich and at the same time make the sandwich taste better.

It’s funny. As I go through the week’s saved links I can get interested about someone writing about a crappy sandwich but, for example, can’t be bothered with anything anyone is writing about THC drinks. What could it be? Bad writing? Maybe.* Compare how, for CAMRA’s What’s Brewing, yet another Matthew wrote about beer pubs and heritage in the nearby local layered landscape under development in Manchester’s core, writting in a way which contextualizes more than lobbies:

“We believe regeneration should enhance, not diminish, the city’s heritage. The Marble Arch deserves to be protected as part of Manchester’s future, not pushed aside by it.” On the subject of heritage, one brand looking to capitalise on the city being the national centre of attention this summer is the iconic Boddingtons. Brand owner AB-InBev has decided to return the brand to cask production after it was discontinued in 2012. The news follows hot on the heels of reported investment in another of its heritage beers, Bass…

I like the tone. While one can get numbed by the beating of a drum, an invitation to think about survival and revival in face of modernity is instructive. Speaking of which, maintaining an interest in more than listicles, Laura Hadland‘s** (slightly paywalled) column in The Telegraph takes on a useful discussion for those with a modest to moderate interest in beer – serving temperature:

… some people adore the sharp thrill of bitter flavours. If that’s you, West Coast IPAs should scratch the itch. This US style of beer is hop-led. Citrus and pine flavours are underpinned by intense bitterness, balanced with a light touch of malt… An American brewer may be horrified to see this beer style served any other way but well chilled. However, there is an argument that they could be served fractionally warmer: research shows that as temperature rises, our perceptions of bitterness usually increase. The real connoisseur of bitter flavours should consider ordering a West Coast IPA (such as Elusive Brewing’s Oregon Trail) on cask, served at a cellar temperature of 11-13C, as opposed to the keg-dispensed version that will be around 5-8C.

While there is a reference to the dubious tale of the hyper-efficient expectorating wine judge, this is exactly the sort of writing that there should be more of. An explanation of an idea. An invitation to try something out. Which may be why the comments are not (entirely) focused on slagging the author. Speaking of context and understanding, I like this piece by Jason Wilson about old vines and the disasterous 2025 harvest in Rioja and what keeps the winemakers… making:

I asked Oxer why he thinks people can be so skeptical about the concept of old vines. “In some way,” he said, “we’ve lost our connection with the old world, the spiritual world. We think too much about the scientific world rather than the spiritual world, but we should join both worlds.” He added, cryptically as always: “Soil is darkness, but always in the darkness, there’s light. Soil is a world we don’t really understand. It’s mix of magic and microbiology.” As we finished our meal with a Basque style cheesecake, Oxer told me that 2025 will be a different story than 2024. He’d lost at least 60 percent of this year’s grapes to the summer hailstorms.

Note: if you think you are dedicated to the drink, consider Big Jim. Talk about pacing your drinks. Conversely, The New York Times ran an (somewhat paywalled) article this week that had me shaking my head over the level of alcoholism being decribed and the introduction of a new concept:

Withdrawal from alcohol, though, felt like a direct hit. I looked to my bedside table and saw the glass of “bed wine” from the night before. “Bed wine” is something I promised myself I would quit this year. It’s the last glass of wine I bring with me as I climb into bed to watch TV or do the crossword puzzle. I tell people that my relationship with alcohol is “complicated,” but it’s not. I love drinking wine and a good cocktail, but booze is horrible to me. In my world, there’s always an excuse to drink: celebration, disappointment, stress.

A habit of “bed booze” seems to me to be a pretty alarming cry for help. Which the piece sorta admits it is. But still… Lordy. What’s so wrong with warm milk?  But things could be worse… maybe. Last Friday, Will Hawkes circulated his latest edition of London Beer City and included this gem of remembrance of a shit pub past:

In 1998/99 I lived about two minutes’ walk from the Finn and Firkin, an imposing 19th-century boozer on the Pershore Road in Birmingham. I remember Dogbolter, a beer I avoided because it was too strong. I remember the L-shaped bar, and the smelly loos next to one entrance. I remember the huge dance hall/concert venue attached to the back. And I remember, for reasons I still can’t truly understand, being unnecessarily rude to a Stoke-supporting friend when he entered the pub one Saturday evening having just watched his team lose 3-0 (although, checking Stoke’s results, they didn’t actually lose 3-0 in 1997-98. Maybe it was 4-0? Or 4-1).  (The pub stopped being a Firkin soon after and is fully shut now).

Nice. Exactly what one looks for in every establishment. Or is it? Some Americans go to Italy in search of an English dispense system… well, at least one did:

Today, from my count, there are at least fifteen locations in Rome serving beer via handpump. And while a number of British breweries send their casks here, there are a several Italian breweries like Hilltop Brewery, Shire Brewing, and Linfa Brewery that are regularly cranking out casks for the pubs. Beyond Rome, you can find handpumps in most Italian city at establishments with an interest in selling anything beyond the standard Peroni or Moretti. Even in Sicily. However, I suspect most of these are serving kegged beer hooked up to a handpump (i.e., they’re not serving cask conditioned beer). To my knowledge, I didn’t have any of that on this trip.

Massimo Internazionalismo!! And perhaps being a bit massimo medievalismo, the feature in Pellicle this week by Thomas Soden is on the topic of gale, the herb that hops destroyed. AKA myrica gale scientifically or sweet gale, sweet bayberry, dutch myrtle or sweet willow.  Or even bog myrtle like when I had a beer brewed with it back in 2008 brewed by Beau’s right here in eastern Ontario. Soden shared:

A wild plant, it often featured in the herbal gruit which flavoured beers from low countries before hops became commonplace in brewing. The shrubs require the specific soil acidity of bogland areas, which although once abundant, are increasingly scarce today. Nothing, however, is stopping modern British brewers from utilising gale as a flavouring agent. In an age in which ‘natural’ beers and wines, and fermented drinks like kombucha are gaining popularity, this seems like it has potential. In 2017, the now sadly defunct Treboom brewery in Shipton-by-Beningbrough near York made a wheat beer flavoured with Gale named “Myricale,” and acknowledged it was a homage to the style. So why has it died out?

Hmm… might I suggest the whole “tastes like a bog” thing?

And for Stan because we share the love of such things, a story of how much alcohol chimps consume:

Someone have a word with the chimps? Observations of the apes in the wild show them imbibing the alcoholic equivalent of a half pint of beer a day through the vast amount of fermented fruit in their diet. Researchers arrived at the first estimates of wild chimp daily alcohol intake after measuring ethanol levels in fallen fruit that the apes gather from the forest floor in Kibale national park in Uganda and in Taï national park in Ivory Coast. While individual fruits contained less than 0.5% alcohol, the chimps’ daily intake swelled as they devoured the ripe fruit pulp. The apes were particularly fond of figs, which contained some of the highest levels of alcohol the team recorded.

Speaking of the pre-hop universe of gale and chimps and… stuff… to conclude this week I am going to try a new weekly feature, featuring old stuff every week. I realized the other day that not only had I been writing this… whatever this is… for over two decades but a lot of my history writings are well down the lastest posts lists. So I am going to try to give a nod to a few things that you might find interesting and perhaps new to you if you weren’t reading this sort of beer stuff back then. Let’s start off with a few links to posts under the 1400s tag:

a. from 2016, check out The Steelyard, Stillyard, Stylyard and Spelling about the Hanseatic League’s foothold in central London
b. from 2015, read all about the brewing dynasty of The Hillars Of Golden Lane, Cripplesgate Without and
c. from 2019, a survey of England’s Increasing Concern Over Beer Brewing, 1430s to 1580s.

That is it for now. Enjoy these last days and golden hours of this summer and as you do please also check out the below mentioned Boak and Bailey every Saturday and sign up for their entertaining footnotes, too. Look out for Stan when he feels the urge now that he’s retired from Monday slot… maybe … maybe not. Then listen to a few of that now newly refreshed Lew’s podcasts and get your emailed issue of Episodes of my Pub Life by David Jesudason on certain Fridays. And Phil Mellows is at the BritishBeerBreaks. Once a month, as noted, Will Hawkes issues his London Beer City newsletter and do sign up for Katie’s wonderful self-governing totes autonomous website featuring The Gulp, too.  Ben’s Beer and Badword has been on hiatus since April but the archives are out there with the all the sweary Mary! 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 and All About Beer is still offering a range of podcasts – and there’s also Mike Seay’s The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast! And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good and after a break they may well be are back every month! Such is life. Such is beer podcasting and newslettering… which, as Ray says, are blogs! And he’s right.

*Yet we do recall the wise words of Boak and Bailey in last weekend’s footnotes: ” “Beer fandom is infested with know-all-ism.” To expand on that briefly, it’s the tendency to respond to any post or article with something like “Old news, already knew this” or “And of course, [supplementary fact]…” Worrying about whether what they’re saying adds anything new to the conversation is one thing that inhibits people from writing and sharing. Yes, there are certain topics that have been hashed out a million times. But when you write about it, it’ll be different because you have a different perspective, and because new evidence has emerged, or things have changed, since it was last written about. Don’t write for the know-alls, because you can’t please them. Write for yourself, and for people who like what you do.” “
**For the double, Laura on pockets at the Beeb.

Your Beery News Notes For A Thursday When The Deep Dark Recesses Get Examined

What does that headline mean? More BrewDog financial disclosures? Another exposé of some distasteful behavious be a well known brewer. Nope. Not this week. No, the real news is it’s my regular quinquennial colonoscopy day! Today!! When I got the call I laughed “YES!” into the phone much to the clinics receptionist’s surprise. This’ll be my fifth. Or maybe sixth. Lost count. It’s good to have your innards examined, folks. And trimmed by the little clippers that show up on screen once in a while. Like a good dental cleaning… just at the other end. I wish you all your own happy colonoscopy days.

Note: up there in other health news, in 1936, tonic wines work for smokers too! I’ll take the c-scope, thanks.

Not at all related, Barry filed an article for Cider Review with himself on the Kemker Kultuur ciders of Münsterland:

Rather than emulating mass-produced, filtered and sweetened ciders that would probably sell more easily in northern Germany, the Kemkers draw inspiration from the rustic ciders of northern and central Europe: dry, unfiltered, with a sense of place in every bottle. Each batch is a reflection of that year’s harvest, the varieties of apples available, and the unpredictable beauty of wild yeast. And it is this that is perhaps the most defining aspect of Brauerei Kemker’s cider, their commitment to spontaneous fermentation. This wild process takes time, and the results are never entirely predictable, which is exactly as intended. Wild fermentation can yield ciders that are complex, dry, sometimes funky, with layers of flavour that reveal themselves gradually, though it is not without risk.

This is no puff piece. Barry’s ensuing notes include “…luscious yet arrestingly bitter…” and “…Like engine oil, so, so dark, like undiluted Ribena…” and “…an astringent, tannic grip hits the throat on the swallow, and does not release easily…” not to mention “…ciders that are reminders of what is possible when nature is allowed to lead…” And ATJ also shared a nice bit of honest observation this week:

On another table I spotted a man in a suit who still had his bicycle clips on. He was humming and then stopped to talk to a woman sitting on a stool at the bar. A man at the fruit machine next to the bar joined in. By the time I left, the man at the fruit machine was standing at the bar next to the woman on the stool and had swapped his half-pint for a pint. Walking back up the hill I wonder how their evening progressed. I never saw them again. A pub is nothing without people

In other international news, Auntie Beeb has reported on the collapse of the bourbon market which warmed my heart – almost as neatly as a glass of Makers Mark:

…most provinces in Canada have stopped importing American alcoholic beverages in retaliation. The country accounts for about 10% of Kentucky’s $9bn (£6.7bn) whiskey and bourbon business. “That’s worse than a tariff, because it’s literally taking your sales away, completely removing our products from the shelves … that’s a very disproportionate response,” Lawson Whiting, the CEO of Brown-Forman… said back in March when Canadian provinces announced their plan to stop buying US booze… In Canada, where bourbon imports have slowed to a trickle, local distilleries have started experimenting with bourbon-making methods to give Canadian whiskey a similar taste. “The tariff war has really done a positive for the Canadian spirits business…”

And, perhaps relatedly, from the ever reliable Beer Marketer’s Insight weekly newsletter, there was this interesting info during the time of tariffs:

Leading aluminum packaging supplier Ball Corp posted one of its strongest qtrs in yrs with high rev growth and solid volume growth vs yr ago across all regions in Q2 2025. Global net revs jumped nearly 13% to $3.3 bil for the qtr off of 4.1% volume increase in aluminum packaging shipments, benefitting from a sizable price increase. North & Central America region revs rose 9.5% to $1.61 bil in Q2 and volume up “mid-single digit percent” vs yr ago. Tho oper margin in the region slipped 140 bps as oper profit dipped to $208 mil vs $210 mil yr ago, “primarily” due to price/mix and higher costs.

One thing we have learned in 2025 is that Canada supplies most of North America’s aluminum much of which is shipped south to be turned in to cans to be sent back to Canada to be filled with beer. Which makes me wonder if the unexpected bump in revenue described above which was twinned with a drop in operating margin is a sign of the two sides of an increased tariff regime. We are now buiding the tin can factories of liberty.

Speaking of freedom, over at Pellicle, Eoghan Walsh has given us a bit of treat just as the European fitba seasons take off with a story of good local beer at good local matches in Ireland:

Dublin’s breweries and its football clubs would have been successful without their respective collaborations, but that they’ve experienced their twin revivals in parallel but interconnected journeys like a double helix speaks to a more fundamental change in Irish attitudes, a renewed self-confidence and a reaction to the flattening impulses of globalisation, that encompassed not just sport but also the creative arts and the wider culture.  “I wouldn’t call it a cultural reawakening,” says Barry Crossan, friend of Donnchadh, fellow ‘Riversider,’ and editor of club fanzine Red Inc. “But there is a bit of a feeling of, ‘These are our bands, these are our clubs.’ It’s phenomenal.”

Sports can define identity. Which sorta reminds me of Big Pappy.  And along the lines of language usage, Mikey Seay asks us all the question “Are you a Private Brewer?” and in doing so coins a handy phrase:

Home Brewer sounds too much like just a hobby – a goof in a garage. PRIVATE Brewer sounds more legit. It puts you, the home brewer, and the person who drinks beer from home brewers, in a more sophisticated space. Same as Private Chefs. Home Chef doesn’t sound all that cool. But PRIVATE Chef does. I want to commission a Private Brewer. A Home Brewer? Not so much. Do Home Brewers sell their beer under the table? I am sure they must, I have just never heard of it. Home Brewers are always too eager to have you try their beer and end up giving it to you.

And, speaking of laying down the law, Phil Mellows brought a recent ruling by the shadowy Portman Group on, of all things, Radler can branding:

The Panel assessed the front label of the drink which included the word ‘Radler’ in a prominent large font. The Panel discussed that while the term ‘Radler’ may be recognised by some consumers as a citrus-based beer, this was not a universally recognised term to denote alcohol in the UK.  The Panel acknowledged that the term was better known with a younger drinking demographic but noted that it had not been understood by the underage person who had accidentally consumed the drink. Therefore, the Panel considered that ‘Radler’ on its own did not sufficiently communicate the product’s alcoholic nature.

As usual, the ruling is weird. The complainant is identified as “underaged” but no actual age is provided. It is a very diferent thing if the person was nine years old and drank a radler as opposed to someone who is seventeen. The label clearly indicated the alcoholic strenth of 3.4% and also had the words “beer” as well as “brewing” – but the shadowy panel found the label “was predominantly focused on fruit-flavours and bore resemblance to a soft drink.” Most oddly, the panel did not consider the absence of indicia that the drink was a soft drink as they claimed. The ruling lacks obvious evidentiary foundations. The British Soft Drinks Association, for example, has a code related to labeling of their products. Food Standards Scotland also offers guidance. The SPG’s failure to consider these obvious sorts of rules for what they consider the packaging looked like leaves one scratching the old hockey helmet holder. But, you know, I’m just a lawyer so…

And, finally, there was a lot of response to a greasy pervy tone found at the Great British Beer Festival this year, including from Kimberley in her piece “It’s a nice day for a beer festival (if you’re a man)“:

As soon as I got my festival glass I made a beeline for a bar that didn’t look crowded, so I could get my back against a nearby table/bar so I didn’t feel so vulnerable. The vast open space and the weird “welcome” got me off to a ropey start. I didn’t even feel comfortable making the long walk to the bathroom in that wide open space.  I knew I needed a gameplan to get through the trade session and because I was late, I wanted to stay a few more hours after because there were breweries I wanted to connect with and support. I’ll provide more context on why I was late to GBBF later – it’s relevant to give a whole picture of the day.  In the first hour of being there I had several interactions that made me feel uncomfortable. I nearly left after just one hour – a friend reassured me I’d be ok staying.

Fests. David J. also says he avoids them for similar reasons. I do not go to beer fests. I’ve hit a few where the transportation failed the amount of drinking by shitfaced strangers. Rachel H. is really ticked that there was no outreach to people who actually know how to plan for bad behaviours and role out anti-sexist strategies. Hopefully more useful than the admittedly successful “designated boyfriend” role I sometimes happily played in bars in the 1980s. Boak and Bailey asked “what can be done?” given “the easy fixes have been tried.” Lillput at What’ll You Have might be on to something as explained in her piece “Don’t Be A Dick” at :

I work with young people – mostly young men, most of whom are socially somewhat awkward and at risk of missing social cues.  We have an extensive “Code of Conduct” which everyone has to read and understand.  “So what you’re saying is – don’t be a dick – in essence”?  Said one lad.  Yeah, that’s it – and everyone knows really what it means – they don’t really need a list.  I don’t believe any poor behaviour is because they don’t understand the rules.  They understand, but they choose – for whatever reason – to ignore or flout them.

Lordy. Which is one reason why I avoid fests. The arseholes.

Well, I am going to leave it there this week. Alpha-ed and Omega-ed, I did. Being Wednesday as this is writ, I now need a drink. No, not that sort of drink, this sort of drink.  Friday? Friday I may drink. As you ponder these inevitables, please also check out Boak and Bailey every Saturday and sign up for their entertaining footnotes, too. Look out for Stan when he feels the urge now that he’s retired from Monday slot… maybe … maybe not. 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 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 self-governing totes autonomous website featuring 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… MichiganAll 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 three weeks ago!. And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good and after a break they are back every month! Such is life. Such is beer podcasting and newlettering… which, as Ray says, are blogs! And he’s right.

Your Fascinating But Still A Bit Sticky And Humid Mid-July Beery News Notes

Summer. Heat waves. Heat warnings. Smoke warnings. Drought. We got it all. Including sugar snap peas. I’ve adoped the Canadian old fart posture this week, when facing a comment on the blistering sun, as I just reply “at least I ain’t shoveling it!” Which is, of course, hilarious. Roar! Tape me ribs! No wonder all of comedy in Hollywood is run by Canucks! The heat in England heat has even driven Boak and Bailey off the beer, according to themselves in their monthly supplement:

…we had some beer at home, so it wouldn’t be too bad, right? Except however much we chilled it, it never quite seemed to refresh us. After a couple of lagers we gave up and switched to iced water. Apparently our bodies were telling us to hydrate and beer, unfortunately, has very much the opposite effect. When we have made it to the pub during heatwaves, we’ve often found cask ale to be a write off. Partly because not all pub cellars are capable of withstanding extreme heat, and partly because people switch to lager leaving ale to lose its sparkle.

Reporting from a land more used to the stinking heat, Pellicle‘s feature this week is a feature by Ruvani de Silva on the Green Bench Brewery in St. Petersburg, Florida. Which is, of course, another part of American utterly infested with we Canadians including, twenty years ago, by my late parents who would occassionally lunch at the welcoming Don CeSar with other welcomed snowbirds from all over. Wasn’t always like that:

Rewind seventy years or so, however, and our experience of St Pete’s would have been very different. The Sunshine City might have been a holidaymakers’ paradise, but only if you were the right kind of visitor. The city’s unwritten law that people of colour were not permitted to sit on its famous green benches evidenced how St Pete’s did not escape Florida’s vicious segregationist policies of the time. This unofficial ordinance was more than simply a physical imposition—it was a restriction that entrenched systemic racism for generations of Black Floridians. It’s for the memory of this injustice that Khris Johnson, founding brewer and co-owner of Green Bench Brewing and Florida’s first Black brewery owner, chose to name his business.

Speaking of establishments, one of the swellest images that passed before my eyeballs this week was this one to the right. At first I thought it was a fire insurance map but there isn’t enough detail.  It’s was posted at a local history group over on FB, Woodlesford and Oulton History, and seems to be a diagram that accompaned a 1933 planning application to update the New Masons in Oulton:

In October 1933 Fred applied to the Hunslet Rural District Council to make major alterations to the layout of the pub and add a new frontage and windows. The work involved knocking down part of the old front wall and fitting a rolled steel joist to support the upper floor. The new layout was then much the same as it remains today.

And here is the pub, still there. The photos help explain the map including the location of the fireplaces, the scale of the room. But the one thing I don’t understand is why the bar is in the passageway. Did you go there from one of the three rooms, get your pint and go back in to find your chair or was the passageway itself a drinking area? These are the things that haunt me.

In more somber news, we have received the sad news the passing of Jack McAuliffe. In remembrance, John Holl has republished a tribute from All About Beer from 2017 to the founder of the New Albion Brewery Company in California which opened in 1977.  And Maureen‘s comment on BlueSky is a wonderful tribute that tells a lot about the man:

Ah. This saddens me. Not unexpected, but I’m sad i won’t see him again. He was hilarious, among other things. I was humbled by the fact that I was one of the very few people Jack likes and respected. That meant a lot to me. Godspeed, Jack. 

Just two weeks ago, Gary shared an anecdote from the earliest days of Jack’s brewery which is worth revisiting to get a sense of how this brewer helped start the change that led on to micro and craft brewing working with very basic resources.

Stan has shared the latest edition of his Hop Queries and explained the dire situation facing hop growers in the Tasman region of New Zealand, including Brent McGlashen of Mac Hops:

“Statistically and visually, we hit above the 1 in 100-year flood level, with also highest ever recorded river flows in a number of parts in the Motueka river… Both our farms have water everywhere, fences with damage and some debris scattered around, but we are fortunate compared to others who have had significant damage and loss due to the flooding. Was this predicted, well yes it was. Forecasters said over 200mm and we sure got that. We have had a wet winter and the ground can’t absorb more so it has to go somewhere.” One hop farmer died as a result of the storm. Peter Lines was clearing flood damage from his property in Wai-iti, southwest of Nelson, when he was hit by a tree.

Rain came again the next week “leaving fields under water and dumping mud, gravel and sand on facilities that had just been cleaned up…” 

Writing about disasters of the unnatural sort, The Beer Nut brought his lucidity to a review of an unknown Dutch brewery, to which he added a key question on BlueSky: “how long can a brewery keep up a sequence of nautical-themed beers flavoured with fruit syrup?” The answer is apparently “too long“:

My report card for Stadshaven says “must try harder”. A sampler pack of fruit syrup does not make for a vibrant range of modern beers, for one thing. I sense an ability to do plain-spoken beers quite well, testified by the red and blonde in particular. Whether the decision not to steer that course is a creative one or a management one, I cannot say. The low price point is very much in these beers’ favour, though I’m still not sure I got my money’s worth from them. 

Speaking of the low, Matty C wrote for What’s Brewing on the most obnoxious retort around: “stick to…” with the line filled in by the obnoxious. In this case, it was about the position being taken him and by many other drinkers in the UK on the Palestinian-Israel war – and in doing so makes this very lucid argument:

In modern political discourse it’s perhaps the first approach to go out the window when things get a little spicy. But it is because of compassion, not malice or spite, that the volunteers of Trafford and Hulme CAMRA opted to have the donation box in the first place, and it is compassion that motivated attendees to make a donation as they leave. It is compassion that triggered the response from customers when they found out beer from breweries they admired were selling beer into a market they didn’t. And it is because of compassion that you’ll struggle to find Moor Beer on tap in Bristol at this very moment. It would be far easier, surely, to stick to beer, and leave the politics to the politicians. But in fact, sometimes the most compassionate thing you can do is stick your head above the parapet and say, “I don’t think this is okay.”

Politics is for the people. All the people. No matter what the cause or the position, being active and acting on compassion is a good thing.

You know what also gets people losing their composure, their perspective? Beer glassware. Do you have a go to glass for beer? I do… well, one for inside and one for the yard. Kevin at Casket Beer advocated in favour of simplicity and recommended a basic four:

…while the shaker isn’t as bad as many make it out to be, it really shouldn’t be a major player either at a beer bar or your home bar. But having a respectable selection of glassware doesn’t need to break the bank or become unmanageable. There are four widely available glass styles that are affordable, cover a wide array of styles, and will satisfy the most discerning beer drinker. Here they are.

You can go see which four they were. Jeff then picked up the theme and advocated for one fewer: “Give me a mug, a goblet, and either a snifter or tulip—both is overly fussy…  I like a handle, and I find a beer looks great when it’s in a wide vessel—the clarity and color is easier to see. Facets bedazzle and please me (recall, I am one of the few fans of glitter beer).” Wow. I was with him there until those two last words. Just… wow.

And staying with the wow,* Alistair has been staying (practically) true to his promise to bust his writer’s block by writing every day (almost) over at Fuggled. Wednesday’s story this week was about the Austrio-Hungarian schnitt of 1900:

The writer continues to berate their fellow German Austrians that a single “schnitt” fewer every day wouldn’t be so bad and that the savings would build up to a sizeable fund for civic associations tied to the ethnically German population of the Empire. And here we have again an example of the cross pollination of cultures that was Bohemia and Moravia in the 19th century, evidenced today through the use of a transliteration of “schnitt” into Czech, “šnyt” as the name for effectively a half pour of beer and lots of foam. “Schnitt”, if you know your German means “cut”, because it is a cut down pour of beer, that is “better than nothing”, at least according to Bohumil Hrabal, or was it Karel Čapek, when he wasn’t inventing the word “robot”?

And the colonial history of the beer gardens of Bulawayo, Zimbabwe was the subject of research for Prof Maurice Hutton of the Global Development Institute, University of Manchester who shared some findings for The Conversation:

The more picturesque beer gardens began to emerge in the 1950s, reflecting the developmental idealism of Hugh Ashton. The Lesotho-born anthropologist was educated at the Universities of Oxford, London and Cape Town, and took up the new directorship of African administration in Bulawayo in 1949. He was tuned into new anthropological ideas about social change, as well as developmental ideas spreading through postwar colonial administrations – about “stabilising” and “detribalising” African workers to create a more passive and productive urban working class. He saw a reformed municipal beer system as a key tool for achieving these goals. Ashton wanted to make the beer system more legitimate and the venues more community-building. He proposed constructing beer garden complexes with trees, rocks, games facilities, food stalls and events like “traditional dancing”. So the atmosphere would be convivial and respectable, but also controllable, enticing all classes and boosting profits to fund better social services. As we shall see, this strategy was full of contradictions…

Finally, like you, I am a regular reader of the Greenock Telegraph the newspaper of record of my paternal peeps. This week they publised an editorial from by the local member of the Scottish Parliament Stuart McMillan on alcohol in the workplace:

Too often there is a conception that people living with drink dependency can’t hold down a job – but when one in four people in the UK worry about their drinking, it’s clear this is a myth. I’m not suggesting 25 per cent of the adult population in the UK have an alcohol addiction. However, these figures indicate that increasing numbers of people are concerned about the impact alcohol has in their lives… For most of us, though, we don’t need specialist support. But we do need to be more open about how alcohol impacts us, and try to foster healthier habits. The popularity of alcohol-free products shows that many people are looking for alternatives – whether that’s alcohol-free beer, wine, spirits or mocktails. Locally, one idea that has been suggested to me is a ‘sober bar’ – which would give people a place to go that feels like a pub, but without the presence of alcohol.

I decided to include this piece not because I agree or disagree. Not even because health and booze is always a worthwhile conversation. But… I can’t imaging a Canadian politician writing this. Because I can think of many other alternatives to alcohol which include, say, playing a banjo or reading a book or going for a walk or staring at a bird in a tree or making a pot of tea – none of which need to simulate the drink or the pub. Which is one of my things about pricy NA not-booze. Just go for a soda. We even have a song about it.

So there you are. Staring at the little screen in your hand as the A/C hums. Until the weather breaks, please check out Boak and Bailey every Saturday. Look out for Stan when he feels the urge now that he’s retired from Monday slot… maybe. 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 newsletterThe 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… MichiganAll 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 and after a break they are back every month! 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… which, as Ray says, are blogs!

*Forced, I know. I’ll try to do better. My footnote game isn’t the best either. It’s the heat. Well known fact. Asides suffer in the summer. Researchers are on it.

The Thursday Beery News Notes For That Lull Between Canada Day And The Fourth Of July

1780s Loyalist soldier reenactors at Bath Ontario Canada Day parade

Living on a border makes you aware of the similarities and differences. Even when the border gets more opaque than usual. As illustrated, we saw musketeers but in red and green not the more often seen blue. Most years, especially when the fourth of July falls on a Friday, I’d have gotten my butt down in a seat at the Syracuse Mets AAA stadium, eating a snappy griller white hot, watching the game then sticking around for the fireworks. Not this year. Due to… conditions. So maybe this Canada Day 2025 last Tuesday was a bit more noted and acted upon. We took in a parade even. One with reenactors with muskets. Then we made burgers.

Speaking of… conditions, I really like this bit of thought on meaning of the stubby and its effectiveness as an economic tool:

By 1962, the year after the stubby was introduced, Canada’s Big Three brewers controlled about 95 per cent of the Canadian beer market… When the stubby was made a packaging requirement for all beer sold at its stores in Ontario, Thompson argues, the Big Three effectively locked all foreign brewers out by creating an extra hurdle for entry into the market. “To bottle in the stubby, [American brewers] are going to have to make their own line at their plant to bottle specifically for Ontario,” she said, noting any cost savings for American brewers through the reusable stubby would be eaten up in transportation costs by first shipping the beer to Canada then shipping it back the U.S. for a refill. 

PS: a Caeser is better than a Bloody Mary. Fact.

image of text from Nov-Dec 1979 edition of the Beer Can Collectors New ReportGary shared a great record of the earliest days of US micro at the end of last week that he found in in the “Golden State Newsletter” column in the Nov-Dec 1979 edition of the Beer Can Collectors New Report found at the Internet Archive. That’s a snippet of the text to the right. I like the live action detail of the first encounter at New Albion:

Greg entered the barn and was surprisingly greeted by three bustling employees involved in 20th Century brewing efficiency: After labels were scraped off what appeared to be recycled Schlitz and Bud bottles, they were washed and singularly hand filled at one tap. The bottles were then hand capped and placed in cases. Boxes of Ale, Stout and Porter stood ready to be loaded onto a used Dodge pick-up truck and delivered world wide. Greg spoke to the Brewmaster (bottle filler). This informative fellow mumbled something about being retired from the Navy, liking to drink ale, and not having time to talk. Greg left.

Lovely vignette. And there’s an interesting note on the state of US drinking trends on the next page: “When color TV became a standard fixture in the home, beer drinking moved out of the bar and into the family room. Two-thirds of all beer is consumed at home—that’s 16 million six-packs a day.” This all speaks to the point made last week about the loss of reliable records – but also shows how there is still good stuff to be found.

What else is going on? Well, Laura published a great roundup from the June edition of The Session last weekend. Plenty of good reading there. David Jesudason is covering the editorial duties for July and Joey at Beer In The City is our host for August.

Line graph showing rise of wine consumption in China then a dramatic slumpYou think beer has it bad in terms of slumping sales? Look at this chart from the American Association of Wine Economists describing the rise and slump of wine consumption in China over the years 1994 to 2024. Consumption is now below 1995 levels. Mirrors the slump in new home sales there. Makes sense.  And that slump in beer has been described in a form worth sharing:

…the industry faces threats from ”sheep, parasites and wolves,” a reference to the way former Coca-Cola Co. Chief Executive Doug Ivester once described competition in the soft-drink industry in the early 1990s. “For the beer industry, spirits are wolves, winning share of throat and now pushing more directly into beer occasions with ready to drink,” the analysts said. “Energy drinks are parasites, successfully using beer distribution as a platform to sell to soft drink companies. Beer players are sheep, ceding customers and attention while beer consumption continues to decline.”

Note: lager larks. And another note about a visitor to a pub caught my eye this week, a visit in this case that took place in 1789* that still resonates today in a particular part of the world where my geneologicals place one quarter of my genomics:

When Scotland’s national bard stopped off for a drink in Sanquhar, there was only one place he found acceptable. Robert Burns liked the inn run by Edward Whigham so much that he immortalised it in verse, with At Whigham’s Inn, Sanquhar. The prominent property in the heart of the south of Scotland town has become much less welcoming in recent years and has fallen on hard times. However, the local community has now stepped in with the hope of bringing the building back into use – with a nod to the poet who found it such a pleasant hostelry.

I found this bit of social science interesting but not, to be honest, convincing. If, as we saw above, the new fangled colour TV was another nail on the coffin of the US neighbourhood bar circa 1979, are pub crawls in the UK really going to rescue of the industry today? Here’s a clip from the study’s abstract itself:

Pub crawls are a phenomenon which are part of the hospitality sector and contribute to consumer experiences within the Night Time Economy. We show the current state of knowledge in this immature field via a Systematic Literature Review methodology. Building on this we provide a novel theoretical typology of pub crawl classification based on levels of organisation, supervision/accompaniment and geography. Highlighting the processional nature of pub crawls, where consumers move through multiple individual contexts and as a spatially embedded hospitality experience, we delineate the experience into antecedents, processes and outcomes. Our analyses lay foundations for further fine-grained theorisation. 

So… more of an invitation for further investigations. Less compelling was the survey discussed in Decanter, another effort to explain away the younger set not being the boozers their parents were:

Gen Z is known for turning up its nose at alcohol, but more young adults in this group may now be enjoying a drink, according to an international survey by drinks industry research group IWSR. In March 2025, 73% of Gen Z adults said they had consumed alcohol in the previous six months, found the IWSR Bevtrac survey.  That’s up from 66% when the same question was posed two years ago. IWSR said its Bevtrac survey included legal-drinking-age adults in 15 markets and defined Gen Z as up to 27 years of age. In the 2025 survey, 70% of Gen Z respondents in the US said they had drunk alcohol in the past six months, up from 46% in 2023.

It would be very helpful if the methodology for these sorts of stats wasn’t (i) a self-declaration about (ii) something you did once maybe in the last half year. A generation that has a drink a few times a year is not going to be the savior for anything more than pub crawls could be. Aside from the “rootin’ for booze” bias, isn’t the real story still that this story isn’t really a story?

Speaking of non-story, Alistair is in a rut but he is going to work himself out of it:

…here is my crazy idea, I am just going to write whatever random boozy thoughts pop into my head each and every day for the rest of July, including when I am in Florida on vacation. Maybe I will find something new in the Austrian newspaper archive that I love to trawl, maybe it will be a few lines of total tosh that just needs someone to comment that I am completely wrong, or right, or that you’ve been feeling the same but unable to say it. Maybe I won’t stress myself out…

The story about Justin Hawke semi-formerly from Moor is odd and, I’m going to admit, made up of threads some of which are outside of my regular reading. But nothing was missed about the “intent” that was meant.  Apparently things were known for years but now ties have severed and attendees cancelled and it all reminds me, also oddly, of Rod Stewart… who also was at Glastonbury. UPDATE: see Boak and Bailey’s on the ground reporting.

And over at Pellicle, Katie has published a story on the wines of Tenerife, the largest of the Canary Islands:

I head across town to Vinoteca Con Pasión, which has the largest selection of Canarian wine in the region. Thankfully, most are available by the glass from the shop, or from the restaurant next door. It’s from here that I buy a bottle of Listán Blanco pét-nat, made by La Orotava winemaker Dolores Cabrera… Her wines named La Araucaria are her most expressive—bottles made exclusively with indigenous Listán Negro or Listán Blanco grapes, from vines between 50 and 100 years old. Her vines are also trained in the cordón trenzado method, trailing long, woven tails across the breadth of her personal sections of paradise.

This is interesting for anyone who has spent a part of their life poring over newpaper notices and other documents from the 1600s and 1700s looking for beer references as “Canary wine” is another product you see regularly referenced. The wines of those times could well have borne a strong resemblance to what Katie experienced today. Though there are clear suggestions of the old stuff being heavy and sweet and boozy.

The New York Times in its Wirecutter column presented a set reasonable arguments from reasonably well informed people for the Teku beer glass… with an interestingly blunt conclusion:

All that said—and as we found in our own tests — most people probably won’t be able to detect significantly more flavors and aromas when they drink a beer out of a Teku compared with other glassware. It takes years of experience and training to develop that much nuance in your senses of smell and taste. But you might notice some subtle improvements while appreciating the other benefits of the glass, such as its versatility and good looks.

So my Mason jar habit remains a solid option. Speaking not of which, was it in a biography of Vita Sackville West that I read the comment from some member of the English aristocracy that he didn’t understand the Great War given all the customers from Germany who were being killed. Are the Trump immigration orders causing an analogous effect?

“A lot of Hispanic consumers are apprehensive to leave their house or … deviate from their routine or go out,” Dave Williams of Bump Williams Consulting told Yahoo Finance. “That results in fewer opportunities and occasions where beer would slot into the mix.” “The abruptness of this slowdown … makes me feel like there’s a lot more of it tied to the cyclical aspect of these consumer behaviors due to the recent ICE raids or deportation scares, whether you’re legal or not … that’s on top of the other structural aspects that beer brands in general,” Williams added.

Well, there you go. We started at the northern end of the current… conditions and ended up at the south. These are the times. As you contemplate that… again… please check out Boak and Bailey every Saturday. Look out for Stan when he feels the urge now that he’s retired from Monday slot. 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 newsletterThe 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… MichiganAll 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!

*That’s a nice bit of verse: Envy, if thy jaundiced eye / Through this window chance to spy / To thy sorrow thou shalt find / All that’s generous, all that’s kind / Friendship, virtue, every grace / Dwelling in this happy place.

E

The Beery News Notes You Need To Get You Through Victoria Day Weekend

If we are honest, we should celebrate the Georges as much as Queen Victoria.* Sure she invented the fifth version of Canada but it was the Georgians who made us, they being the people (and, yes, their red clad dutiful doers) who kept us from being just another slice of Americana. Timely thoughts, you will agree. Some call this coming long weekend not Victoria Day but May Two Four – my greatest gift to Linguista Canadiana being the alt, May Too Far. When the Georgians were running the place, the birthday of the monarch was one of the greatest spectacles in the year as the account of 12 and, I suppose, 13 August 1827 at Guelph, Ontario on the celebration of the King’s birthday bears witness:

…all sat down and enjoyed a hearty meal. “After the cloth was removed,” toasts were drunk to everybody and every conceivable thing, the liquors, of all imaginable descriptions, being passed round in buckets, from which each man helped himself by means of tin cups, about two hundred of which had been supplied for the occasion… those who remained continued to celebrate the day in an exceedingly hilarious manner, most of them, who had not succumbed to an overpowering somnolency, celebrating the night too, many of them being found next morning reposing on the ground in the market place, in loving proximity to the liquor pails, in which conveniently floated the tin cups…

Always solid advice. By the way, the 200th anniversary of that event on the Guelph frontier is just two years and three months away. We need to recognize that boozy bicentennial! Time to apply for those government grant to celebreate our great heritage for celebration. I just hope the application form has a space for indicating the number of tiny tin cups required for the event. By the way, just seven years later, as explained up there in the Kingston Whig newpaper of 12 August 1834, not so much fun. None at all. But the advice still stands today: lay off the opium, buster.

Enough of then! What of the now? First up, Rebecca Crowe shared some of her love for her local, the The Little Taproom on Aigburth Road in Liverpool in Pellicle this week, a place of cheery activity and welcoming hosts, Si and Aggie:

If you’re in the Tap on a Wednesday night, you’ll be greeted by groups of people staring at their phones. However, this isn’t an unsociable act—it’s the Big Quiz in the Little Taproom. When you look around the regular teams, you see couples, groups, solo players, university-aged friends, alongside seasoned quiz addicts, and people just looking for some time out of the house. Si mentions how quickly the quiz has grown as a regular pub fixture. “At first, it was just a regular event to increase revenue on an otherwise relatively quiet Wednesday night,” he says, with his trademark full-hearted honesty.

Next, and perhaps quite conversely,  a bit of disappointing news for the efforts being undertaken to have cask ale and pubs recognized as Intangible Cultural Heritage by UNESCO as explained in Pellicle by lobbying leader Jonny Garrett:

During brief discussions with the civil servant in charge of the project, I was told there would be a “relatively low bar of entry” to the national list, but that there was no intention to put any submissions to UNESCO for the first few years. The reasoning was that the government was not certain how to select which cultures should be submitted, but it also feels like they are reluctant to do so until they fully comprehend the implications for governance of any that make the grade.

Seems that as the UK is late to ratifying the underlying treaty, the government has to determine how to prioritize the many claims to being awarded the designation. So cask beer is up against things like all of Scotch Whisky (a good bet to beat out cask), Welsh mens’ choirs (obvs ahead of cask) and all those charming English fetes on the village green on lovely summer Saturdays that we see on TV, the ones  where half the upper middle class villagers who live there are murdered – and it was the church choir master, jilted by school teacher all those years ago, who was to blame after all!!

If, however, any evidence of the vibrant Life on Cask is required for  governmental purposes, the entirity of reportage from Martin is right there for the taking. Just this week he visited wrote about his recent trip to The Castle Hotel of Manchester providing us with a lovely photo essay – including this image of the entry way like something from one of those episodes of Time Team where they uncover a Roman mosaic in a farmer’s field. Heritage.

More bad news for the US booze and craft trade. BeerBoard reported that “total alcohol sales declined -7.3% year-over-year across same-store locations during the May 2–5 weekend” as Beer Marketer’s Insights shared:

Craft beer sales continue to soften in tracked retail channels thru first few wks of April. As total beer sales “improved” a bit to $$ down 2.2%, craft beer softened to $$ down 6.3% for latest 4 wks thru Apr 20 in Circana multi-outlet + convenience channels. Keep in mind, that’s excluding non-alc craft brands tracked in separate NA segment by Circana.

It’s interesting how heavily those still wishing on that star rely on non-alcohol beer stats to prop up the decline while also squeezing that Bourcard report** dismissing the demographics hard. If all the energy to ignore the trend was employed in addressing the trend… would the outcome change? Speaking of tinier trends, has anyone actually noticed the rise of Thai beer in America?

According to reports via The Manual, Group B USA has claimed to be the first and only Thai craft beer distributor in America and now it has also started brewing stateside too. Beer lovers and Thai cuisine connoisseurs have previously only been familiar with Singha and Chang beer brands, but in a deep dive interview with Group B CEO Bamee Prapavee Hematat there is now a growing Thai craft beer movement featuring IPAs and beers flavoured with dried bananas.

Despite all those Thai beers coming it, less is still more for the rest of the US beer trade, as Evan Rail reported in VinePair this week:

“That was the height of craft beer—it was easy to keep 28 handles on tap,” says Zak Rotello, the bar’s third-generation owner. “Now, fast-forward 10 years and I have less beer on tap than ever: 21 beers out of a total of 30 handles. The others are wine and spirits.” It’s not just Rockford. Across the country, a number of bar owners are moving away from the massive tap lists of the craft era. Back in the days of what Rotello calls “rotation nation,” enthusiastic beer drinkers were always hoping to find something new on tap—and bars were happy to oblige. Instead, many bars today are offering fewer draft beers, often using those same lines for pre-mixed cocktails, bulk-packaged wine or other beverages.

And Alistair shared some related thoughts over at Fuggled, too, as he bimbled in his dotage:

Maybe I am just entering my curmudgeonly dotage as I creep ever closer to my 50th birthday later this year, but I have found little joy of late browsing the aisles and shelves of the beer retailing world, whether supermarket or specialist. Of course there are beers, usually seasonally available lagers such as Tröeg’s Little Nator, that I happily stock up on when they are available, but usually my little bimbles are more a ritual performed through a misplaced sense of duty, with a hint maybe of self-flagellating hope of something other than yet another “innovation” in the form of an IPA.

Getting a bit legal for a moment, I came across some excellent discussion of  an important topic in the hospitality trade from a team of Australian academics, thoughts about the alleged “perks” in the tavern and grub trade and how they undermine hospitality workers’ rights:

As one chef put it: “Free steak dinners don’t pay my rent or stop my boss docking pay for smoke breaks.” Our data also show that workers with formal agreements were significantly more likely to receive their legal entitlements, including proper rest breaks and overtime pay, compared to those without. Why does this matter? Because protecting rights is not just about fairness. It is about safeguarding the sustainability of an industry we all rely on. Research shows when businesses rely on unpaid labour or ignore basic entitlements, they undercut fair competition, contribute to worker burnout and drive talent out of the sector.

Remember when craft brewing workers were expected to be more interested in passion than pay? What? Still?!?! Boak and Bailey (much to the contrary being unfailingly fair competators in the weekly beer new update scene***) have taken time out from their eastern European sojourns to discuss the source of skull iconography in the craft beer scenic landscape:

David Ensmiger, quoted above, suggests that in the context of punk music and skateboarding, skulls and skeletons represent a certain ‘apartness’ from mainstream culture. To paraphrase his argument, skaters, punks and bikers are monsters created by society, who delight in horrifying and repulsing ‘normies’. There’s also a more obvious sense in which skull imagery is about confronting death, and embracing life. People who fly skull flags see themselves as fearless risk takers, in both physical terms (skateboarding accidents hurt) and in terms of their cultural status. Again, this is exactly the kind of attitude craft beer producers either wanted to tap into (appropriate) or which actually reflected their lifestyles.

Fabulous stuff from they themselves, as is so often the case. I added my two cents that there was an association of the imagery with the Motörhead influenced X-treme beer era which picked up 1980s Mad Max post apocalyptic cool. Rock. On.

Speaking of the 1980s, I had no idea that stubbies were a thing outside of Canada before 40 years ago but here were are… or rather there we are according to Anthony Gladman:

The area around Fressin, known as Les Sept Vallées, is nice enough in a damp kind of way, but it’s not exactly what you picture when you hear ‘holiday house in France’. It soon became clear Dad had chosen it just to be close to the Wine Society’s outpost in nearby Hesdin. Still, when I think back to my visits there — which took me from callow teen to knackered young dad myself — what I remember drinking with Dad was beer. Or stubbies, to be precise: little 250 ml bottles of Kronenbourg, bought dirt cheap by the slab from the local hypermarché.

Are you a curious person? I know I sure am and I also know you probably are because you are here reading this very sentence. This one too. Well, in order to compensate for your undoubtedly regular sense of disappointment founded here week after week, Eoghan Walsh has a plan designed just for you – and for you and especially just for you:

Before the big announcement, a slightly smaller one – Brussels Notes turns 100 next week! That’s 100 newsletters from me to you since I first started sending them out over four years ago, and since I revived the format at the beginning of last year. A huge thank you to every one of you who’ve signed up to get them in your inbox, and to everyone who’s reading this or has read an article in the past. To mark the occasion, I thought I’d do an Ask Me Anything edition for newsletter #100. What’s my favourite bar? My favourite building? Best beer? Worst beer? The worst thing about Brussels? The best thing? Weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me in the city? Oddest thing I’ve ever seen. Best sandwich? How I actually pronounce my name?

My bet it’s pronounced “Ewan”, right? Jason Wilson is actually also possibly pronounced “Ewan” but that is entirely not the point. The point is he made a very interesting observation on US wine buying habits these days as it relates to place:

These days, in the middle of a worldwide wine crisis, it’s never been tougher to sell wine based on place. In fact, over the past couple of years, I’ve observed that a certain type of wine influencer/educator has begun to steer completely clear of talk about terroir. At the low end, the focus is on a certain populism focused on, say, wine in cans or alternative packaging. But much of the higher-end natural wine chatter also avoids a deep discussion of place. While the best natural-wine producers are committed terroirists, a lot of the derivative, middling natty wine talk is way more about winemaking technique and philosophy…

The comments are in the context of the risks inherent in the German legal wine standards adding concepts equivalent premier cru and grand cru to the labels of their bottles. The risks being that the promise better be fulfilled. Does this relate to good beer? “Local” in terms of a beer made of things from this or that “here” (or even a “there” for that matter) has never really taken off even when the best examples ring true. In a trade where popular populisit “IPA” branding has devolved to a euphemism for “maybe better” how could that little old charmer “local” have ever hoped to rise to the top?

Question: is there value in Vittles?

Finally, as you can see to the right, Mr. DJ made all my dreams come true with this post on BlueSky.  And that is it! Until we 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 (….not quite…) 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 newsletterThe 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… MichiganAll 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!

*See also 2024, 2019 and 2008 for more Vicky Vicky fun fun fun.
**It’s terrible sweet how, in part, Bourcard relies on a theory that it’s cell phone photos and tracking by parents that has deterred youth drinking – but that they will snap back to act and drink like good boomers as soon as they get their own iPhone accounts.
***According to an unsolicited report authored by something called BB Consulting Associates International that I received by email spam filter in, umm, June 2024.

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 newsletterThe 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 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 newsletterThe 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 newsletterThe 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.