Category: Beer Writing

This Week’s Fantastically Even Dramatically Encouraging Beery News Notes For W3Oct25

Usually I have something to share at the outset. Something cheery. But as the garden is on its last legs, as the month slips toward Halloween and then we deal with the changing of the clocks, it seems that any pretense that the year isn’t beginning the final act is fading fast. But… but… before all that, there is one more bit of baseball. One of the most exciting ALCS runs ever now turns into the World Series between a startlingly strong Blue Jays against the defending Dodgers led by the semi-deity known as Mr. Ohtani.  Look at him!  He’s the perfect player. Kyusung Gong of the AP took it and it sums up Ohtani neatly. He barely looks like he’s putting in any effort. His batting is the same. Yet… the Jays look good. So, even though neither of the two are my team, I will be feet up this Friday evening for game one. If you have never watched baseball you may want to watch this. One more thing. The Jays celebrate with US beer brewed under license in Canada. Lordy:

The Toronto Blue Jays are sponsored by Labatt Brewing Company, the Canadian-headquartered brewery that represents big-name booze brands like Corona, Stella Artois, Palm Bay and, yes, Budweiser. That’s why, upon the win, you could see an icy barrel stocked to the brim with bottles and cans of Budweiser within an arm’s reach of every Blue Jays player at any given time.

As I say, not my team. Next, some beery news from the world of British fitba. First up, we have Jessica Mason’s report on the new brewery being build at second tier Wrexham, Wales care of those struggling team owners Reynolds and McElhenney:

Since the duo bought Wrexham AFC five years ago, the club has risen up the ranks from the non-league to England’s second tier. Added to this, the brand has also found fame via a Disney+ documentary Welcome to Wrexham, which followed the club’s story and focused global attention on the area, also boosting tourist numbers. Then, last year, Reynolds and McElhenney acquired a majority stake in local brewery Wrexham Lager…. now there are plans afoot for other drinks brands, including Wrexham Lager to have a boosted presence with the proximity of the new brewery being developed nearby. The application reads: ‘The Wrexham Lager proposals, consisting a brewery and associated taproom and museum, will utilise existing buildings on the site.’

But then we read of the news out of England’s seventh tier as reported by Phil Hay of the newsletter, The Athletic FC:

The club were Bracknell Town, based 35 miles to the west of London. Their video drew attention because in it, their coach — the recently-appointed Matt Saunders — hammered a number of his senior players, criticising their conditioning, their attitude and their tendency towards alcohol. “I’m not going to let this football club be dragged down by people that can’t run, can’t look after their body, want to go and drink after games,” he said. “It ain’t happening.” Bracknell are having a time of it. They’re bottom of the Southern League Premier South with six points from 11 matches, and Saunders’ arrival hasn’t picked them up. 

Difference? Maybe five tiers? Boak and Bailey have also made a call via an alert on Patreon, asking for a boost to the next level:*

It’s been a while since we tackled a big question like where did lager louts come from, what’s the deal with nitrokeg beers or when did video games in pubs become a thing? We’ve got an idea to write something about The Prospect of Whitby but beyond that, what are some other questions we might tackle? We like to add the sum of collective knowledge – to pull facts together into one place where they can be found. Suggestions welcome.

In a time when some other voices have gone a bit silent or seem a little discouraged, this reminder of the need to add to the sum of collective knowledge is encouraging. Solidarity friends! Send then your ideas or even scribble your own somewhere and let us know. Similarly, The Pellicle feature this week is by Lily Waite-Marsden, a portrait of Macintosh Ales of London which, at the outset, does not offer an initial encouraging prospect:

There’s a small yard a moment away from Stoke Newington Church Street in North East London. At its entrance an entirely perfunctory and heavily battered railing protects the square of overgrown cobbles from the pavement beyond. On the first floor of the old stable buildings on three sides, four green doors lead to nothing but a 10-foot drop; the yard is hemmed with various shades of green paint—faded and flaking patchwork grass, darker, glossier army-surplus vehicle paint. But for a hand-painted sign and a number of planters giving the game away, passing on a quiet morning or late at night it might look a little tired, unloved.

But then… it was encouraging. And, turning to brewing history, Andreas Krennmair wrote about a favourite topic of mine, Schenkbier. Except when I looked at the stuff it was from the perspective of what was brewed by German speaking immigrants to the USA. Schenk was referenced regularly descriptions of the brewing trade in the third quarter of the 1800s and was described as one of three species of German beer which had crossed the ocean: lager, bock and schenk.  Andreas found some information from a few decadeds earlier that helped him unpack what was in the glass:

What’s surprising is how different the beers were in terms of original gravity and attenuation. OGs between 11 and 12.6 °P are absolutely solid, and while some of these beers didn’t have nearly as much alcohol as modern lager beers, they’d still be alright to drink, although probably on sweeter side for modern tastes. Especially the beer from Heller stands out, with a respectable 11.5 °P but only 2.9% ABV and a very high residual extract. Doing the calculation, the real attenuation was less than 40%, so this beer must have been a sweet mess. Compare this with modern lager beer, with real attenuation around 65%.

Perhaps syrupy low kick gak is the next big thing. It could be already. There is going to be a next big thing, right? Maybe not. North America’s oldest brewer, Molson, is laying off staff. And not just any staff – the white collar staff of MCBC:

Beer maker Molson Coors Beverage Company said on Monday it would cut about 400 jobs, or nine per cent of its salaried workforce in the Americas by year end as part of a corporate restructuring plan. The company’s Americas workforce consists of employees in the U.S., Canada and certain countries in Latin America. A spokesperson for the company told CBC News in an email that the restructuring “only applies to salaried non-union employees across the Americas.” The company is not providing a breakdown by country or province at this stage, and no offices or breweries will shut down as part of the restructuring, the spokesperson added.

It’s always the suits who suffer. The trends in beer are not comforting. Last week’s noting that craft might need saving** not only got some chatter going but I played Mr Smil and dipped my toe into the math that we are living with seeking to compare those apples to apples:

Interesting to note that 2024, Athletic NA beer alone was 400,000 bbl. Is NA beer a comparable to other booze? Is it booze? We should probably compare alcohol sector to alcohol sector. Take just that one brewery’s production out, the drop is more like 14%…  Worse news if we believe Beer Marketers Insights (Oct 1): “Craft beer trends (ex non-alc) steepened over the summer to volume -8.4% and $$ -6.4%; several pts below total beer volume -5.6% and $$ down 5.1% for 18 wks thru Sep 20 vs yr ago.” So 2019-24 at -14% (non-NA) could be down -20% for 2019-25.

Or more *** The Guardian wrote about another aspect of the retraction from alcohol – the loss of a cornerstone element of overall profitability for restaurants:

The industry standard markup on alcohol in a high-end restaurant is anywhere from 150% upwards, making it one of, perhaps the only, high-margin products on the menu. As people drink less, it could leave restaurants in a precarious position. For every restaurateur willing to go on the record to discuss the shifting tide, there were an equal number who refused to be interviewed for this story. Some because they say they’ve witnessed no change in customer behaviour, and others because the subject matter is at odds with promoting a hospitality business. While it doesn’t necessarily do wonders for the bottom line, diners drinking less at the table does create a more harmonious environment for restaurant workers. Fewer drunk bodies means less risk overall.

Me, I usually just have water but still try to tip like I’ve had a bit of booze. Where will this all lead?  What can be relied upon to get the attention of the public. Innovation? The Beer Nut himself spent last weekend in Warsaw and spotted one of the more innovative cultural expressions of beer culture – a sausage randall as illustrated in thumbnail format… in consideration of some of your delicate constitutions. Much consternation was found in the comments which followed his Bluesky post – but I really can’t see the difference between a lager washed through sausages and sausages washed down with lager. Much depending of course on the quality of the sausage.

Speaking of quality, Matty C. has written about the return of Boddingtons for CAMRA’s What’s Brewing and has placed it in the moment:

Being honest for a second, this beer is not reinventing the wheel – there are far more interesting and flavourful pints available, even from JW Lees itself. But I consider the resurgence of Boddingtons is about more than flavour. Reports are already coming in from Manchester venues that are not able to keep up with demand, turning away disappointed drinkers who want to be seen with a pint of it in hand. This is significant, because those who are drinking it are young, fashionable, and about as far away from the cask beer stereotype as you can possibly get. This can only be considered a positive. For many drinkers, especially younger ones, a row of handpulls featuring a range of products they’ve never heard of can be incredibly intimidating. In Boddingtons, a brand has been revived that people can easily trust.

Heritage as maybe heritage? Maybe. Speaking of maybe, there is always the potential for maybe not – as one liquor dome in Northern Ireland found out recently:

Planners order the business to remove shipping containers used as a bar and storage, as well as a takeaway food cabin with a serving hatch on a Skipper Street – a side road that runs past the beer garden. Also to go are steel boundaries with wood covering that include an access gate and windows, an enclosed walkway entrance, a “tent structure”, boundary fencing in excess of two metres in height not adjacent to a road, and storage areas for bins and beer kegs. City planners say they’ve reached their verdict as “it appears there has been a breach of planning control” on the site.

Finally and probably relatedly, here is an interesting snippet of an unlocked article from the Financial Times written by Charles Spencer (Princess Di’s brother) on the question of authenticity which includes this:

When, in 1992, I inherited Althorp, my family’s ancestral home, I felt a responsibility to return it to how it had been for much of its 500-year history. For, over the previous decade and a half, the interior had been lavishly redecorated by my stepmother, Raine, whose taste and palette were inherited from her flamboyant mother, romantic novelist Barbara Cartland… I turned to John Cornforth, perhaps the leading British architectural historian of the time, to help me return things to how they should be. We toured Althorp’s principal rooms, assessing them for Raine damage. Cornforth’s kind reassurances dwindled as we went. Finally, on entering the South Drawing Room — a cacophony of clashing pinks (on the walls, on the floor, in the curtains) — Cornforth rocked back in his tightly drawn lace-ups. “Goodness,” he mused. “I really can’t help you here .  As he departed Althorp that afternoon, he lobbed me a catch-all mantra that he hoped might help: “Good taste is authenticity — and authenticity is good taste.”

The point is excellently made. But what does this have to do with beer? Only on the idea of how his hunt for authenticity based on that saying became for Spencer a no-doubt very expensive exercise in conformity. Realizing that, he argues for a balance between respect for what has come before with a realization that you need to live in the present, too. Can we compare the return of Boddingtons or the sweet mess that was historic schenk or that sausage randall with the clashing pinks of a devotee Barbara Cartland’s fashion sense?  Obviously even the “don’t yuk their yum” level of junior beer expert might balk at the more garish, the most lurid of these pleasures. But where to draw the line?

While we consider that over the week ahead, 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 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!

*Formatted to fit, to protect the innocent perhaps but mainly to fit.
**Jeff updated his thoughts, by the way, but it did make me wonder why what one wants should be limited to what some producers feel they can provide. Perhaps the former suits of Molson now share that feeling.
***A bear of beer! 

The Beery News Notes For That Post Canadian Thanksgiving Emotional Letdown

Actually, it’s been a good week this week. Forget that headline. While not at the level of “I’m a traffic cop in Spain under Franco and it’s Christmas so give me gifts of booze” good (as illustrated to the right) it’s been good.  Week off for yard work. And Monday’s Thanksgiving turkey came out of the oven in fine shape. We even had a last minute guest which meant we had to be on best behaviour and, get this, I couldn’t even each over the table for seconds of stuffing bare handed. Sheesh. And my vote for the Cardinal* even tied my preferred runner up the Crow** so that worked out well. Annnnd it was heartening to see the fans of the Blue Jays not repeat past bad behaviour when the Mariners took the first two games on the road care of, in part, a great Canadian.

Where to begin? The past! Last Thursday after that week’s edition went to… well, after I clicked on “post”, Liam shared an interesting piece on the joys of finding an excellent set of observations from the past:

While trawling through newspaper mentions for old pubs for yet another historical project, I came across a smattering of repeats in numerous papers in 1908 of a piece of pubcentric prose under the title, ‘The Delights of an Old Alehouse.’ It really gripped me as I read it and brought out some of the emotions mentioned above, but it wasn’t in any way familiar to me which seemed odd, as it was extremely well written and clearly done by someone with a lot of talent. Luckily, at the end of the piece the author – Charles Hugh Davies – was credited as well as the source of the original publication, which was The Pall Mall Magazine. Some sleuthing and searching finally led me to the piece, which is actually just a small part of an article titled ‘An Essaie in Prayse of Beer’ which is a much broader love letter to beer, and especially old ale, as was hinted at in the excerpt I had read. I can’t find it in any other source (apologies if it has been covered by others and I’ve just missed it.)

Good work. Sadly, the hunt for information on line has become harder as sources are removed from public access. It’ll only become harder as A.I. search narrows what you need to know. Which really was the underlying point about brewing history that Pope Leo was trying to make the other day.

And Gary has been digging into the old records this week, too, focusing most recently on Old Vienna beer – both Ontarian and Ohioan – and some almost eerie machinations on the part of my personal hero E.P Taylor:

Since Ohio was ground zero to market Red Cap Ale and Carling Black Label beer made in Clevelend, it makes sense that Canadian Breweries wanted to add Old Vienna to the American portfolio, at least initially as an export. If Canadian Breweries bought the rights to Koch’s Old Vienna from the receiver, a potential obsacle to such marking would be removed. Presumably O’Keefe Old Vienna did reach Ohio, as it did other states in the north. in the 1950s…

While E.P. clearly had a thing for Ohio, there are still questions questions questions and he’s on the hunt. Fortunately there are also answers at least etymologically speaking! On “steaming“…

The word ‘steaming’ for being drunk stems from when people in Scotland used to circumvent Sunday licensing laws by taking to the water. Public houses were closed, but steamships weren’t. To be ‘steaming drunk’ made its way into public parlance.

Also on another aspect of the question of “what is history,” Chalonda White of Afro.Beer.Chick posted about the meaning of National Black Brewers Day and how it is still not properly appreciated:

National Black Brewers Day isn’t just about history. It’s about continuity. It’s about connecting ancient African fermentation to modern Black ownership. It’s about giving credit where it’s long overdue. When I pour a pint on this day, I’m not just thinking about the beer. I’m thinking about the people. I think about the enslaved brewers whose hands shaped the recipes. I think about Theodore Mack Sr., who bet on himself when no one else would. I think about Celeste Beatty of Harlem Brewing Company, who became the first Black woman to own a craft brewery in the U.S. and did it with unapologetic Harlem pride. She turned her love for the culture into liquid storytelling.

In another context of the search for authenticity, Ron shared his experience of attending the Norsk Kornølfestival in Ålesund, Norway over a series of posts including breakfast photos as well as observations on framhouse brewing:

The house is a log cabin with one of those turfed roofs which are pretty common around here. Next to it is a roofed fire pit, where a cauldron of water and juniper twigs are bubbling away over a wood fire. They never brew with pure water. It’s always juniper infused. The farmer, his brother and a mate are doing the brewing. Occasionally, giving the water a stir with a long wooden stick. Mashing takes place in a stainless-steel tub. Though they have some wooden tubs to show us how they used to do things. Water is transferred in buckets to the mash tub. To which the malt is later added. No measurements, either of the temperature of the water or the weight of malt, are made. It’s all very casual. Done by eye and experience. While the mash is standing, we go off for lunch. Which is more potatoes and cold cuts. It fills a hole.

As a bonus, there was also some sensible maritial fest-going advice from Ron like when he made: “…some cheese and salami sandwiches to eat at the festival. I saw the price of the food they’re selling there. I’d never be able to look Dolores in the eye again if I paid that much for nosh.” As always, I am with Dolores in these matters. Less realistic is the news out of the GABF last week… if BMI is to be believed:

At Boston Beer’s annual GABF brunch Oct 10, it felt like a throwback to the heady days of early craft, an optimism that might’ve seemed defiant if it hadn’t had receipts from the night before. BA prexy Bart Watson opened the event by noting that despite the “gloom and doom” in craft, Thurs night’s crowd had produced a “lively festival” with “not a phone in sight.” Bart said “that’s the spirit we need to find – people connecting over great beer.” Boston Beer prexy Jim Koch echoed Bart, saying GABF’s opening “was an illustration of the creativity and vibrancy of the craft beer movement and our ability to evolve, change, add more layers to what we do.” 

You will remember Boston Beer, the firm that one is advised now makes 30% of its revenue from beer making. Clearly not part of the post-passion universe. More connected to the reality-based reality is Mike Seay who visited an old friend – a brew pub:

In this era of Craft Beer, with more places closing than opening, my area got a nice boost with the return of a local brewpub chain that is tied to the original microbrew wave in the 90s. That place is Sequoia Brewing in Fresno. It closed for a while, lost owners, and felt like it would not return. But it did return, with new owners. Thankfully. Brewpubs fill a gap for most of us beer geeks. The gap of having kids. Or a partner that isn’t into going to taprooms. With a brewpub, both can be happy. Food for the ones not really into beer, and craft-style beer for us beer geeks. Usually, brewpub beer rises up to a respectable level of beer, but not a “I want to buy this in a store” level. That there is the rub for us.

And (also) out and about but farther afield was Retired Martyn as well as Mrs RM who’ve (also) been looking for happiness care of a beer and a bite in Romania and found it at the Grand Café Van Gogh:

We’re in a modern apartment near the University, Romana a mix of youth and decay… Appropriately, the city is full of umbrellas, in Umbrella Street and the Grand Café Van Gogh which is one of Mrs RM’s ticks. Obviously those paintings aren’t all original Van Goghs, that would be silly, but they are high quality prints and this is the classiest place in Old Town by a distance. Big brewery beer, CAMRA would be appalled, but a black lager is matched expertly with…. Papanasi, your Romanian mix of doughnuts, cream and fruit.

I hope the service was up to scratch. I’ve done service – missed putting in the order, dropped the beer, invented “diming” to maximize the tips, took shit from the kitchen staff – but I never had to work it like a waitress. For Pellicle, Rachel Hendry discussed the role in pop culture and her own life:

What is it that you want from your waitress? Efficiency, charm, a smile, care, attention to detail, an attractive physique, a winning personality, a sense of humour, wisdom, empathy, experience—the list goes on! All of that flair! No wonder she’s so popular! But how much of a person are you really entitled to? The Waitress moves among her audience members, weaving her way past tables and into their lives. She works within her community—there’s that animation, there’s that exposure—performing for them as is the requirement of her work. How much should The Waitress give and how much should she restrain? How much are you paying for?

Excellent stuff. And from India, we learned there was much surprise on what people found out their drinks tab was paying for:

A liquor bill of a restaurant in Rajasthan has been going viral on social media. But why? Well, it levies cow cess among other taxes, including CGST and SGST. The tax, which was introduced in 2018 to support cows and cow shelters in Rajasthan, has triggered a debate online.  One user said, “As much as I want the welfare of cows (or all animals for the matter), I don’t understand the concept of cow cess.” Another said, “The irony is the Jaipur-Jodhpur highway, which is littered with cattle loitering on the road, making it extremely dangerous for commuters. Rajasthan govt is barely doing anything for the rehabilitation of cattle/cows.”

Sticking with news from India, there is a shortage of aluminum cans for the domestic brewing market that strict regulations are making worse, according to Jessica Mason:

Domestically, aluminium can suppliers such as Ball Beverage Packaging India and Can-Pack India, have revealed that they have already reached maximum capacity at their sites and will not be able to increase supplies for at least 6-12 months unless production lines are added or expanded in some way… At present, due to the QCO, the beer industry cannot import cans from foreign vendors as BIS certification can take many months to process. To avoid a shortage in beer supply, local reports have outlined that the BAI has lobbied the government for a “short-term regulatory relaxation” of its QCOs to ensure uninterrupted supplies from other countries.

Interesting then that Canada is courting India as a market for the supply of our metals. We make a lot of aluminum that could suppliment local production. If, you know, Mr. Trump lets us…

And then… there was much response to that nice light piece in the NYT by Mark Robichaux originally titled “Opinion – How to Save the Craft Beer Industry“*** on what US craft beer can do to save itself. Some sensible… (…maybe…) Others not so much**** or worse. Me, I wonder if  it can be saved as the taint of “your uncle’s drink” is now so well upon it. Not to mention the whole general slump of interest in booze thing.***** But what I liked most in the piece is how it makes an attempt too rarely seen with the general topic – an attempt to set out a reasonable argument. Four arguments in fact… of varing decrees of validity. The best one is the third of the four:

Craft beers also need smarter labels. The industry built its identity on personality, with quirky mascots, puns and inside jokes as logos. It was fun — until it became clutter and noise. My beer aisle now looks like a vertical Comic Con merch table. Today’s overwhelmed consumer doesn’t have time to decode a beer called Sour Me Unicorn Farts (a glittered sour from DuClaw), Purple Monkey Dishwasher (a chocolate peanut butter porter from Evil Genius), or Hopportunity Knocks (a perfumed, piney I.P.A. from Caldera Brewing Company). They want to know: What does it taste like? Will I like it? Design matters, yes, but clarity matters more. Make labels that tell drinkers what’s inside, not just what’s funny at 2 a.m. in the brew house.

Certainly a point we’ve heard, agreed with or disagreed with****** over the last few years. Consumers (not nerds, not trade staff, not beer writers) are not aided by in joke branding design. AKA the exploding bubble gum machine effect. But he misses the mark for me on issue #1 on the IPA problem, complaining that “…most taste like pine resin…” and not that anything that tastes like anything can be called an IPA now and that it loops into issue #3 above. Issue #2 is an observation on strong beer that is both true and also a bit dated by, you know, fifteen years. While it’s sorta true there’s plenty of beers being made which are not like that so, you know, buy those. Issue #4 is just a sensible observation that good beers should come in smaller cans… but plenty do.  One take away for me is this: if a reasonable writer and a reasonable publication like this is suffering from as serious a misunderstanding of the whole topic as a number of beer writers allege… have the last twenty years of public writing about good beer been an utter and too insular failure?

That’s it for now. Not as long as last week but that was nuts. While you beg for more more more, 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!

*The bird so nice they named it twice, cardinalis cardinalis!
**HARBINGER OF DEATH!!!!
***But then on Tuesday the title was altered to the less serious “Wacky Labels and Silly Names Are Killing Craft Beer” after an intense intimidation campaign by about 13 craft beer nerds that would have left even a Trump bootlicker impressed. Please don’t tell them about SNL’s non-non-alcoholic beer ad. Don’t make fun of poh widdle cwaft.
****Leaving out words like ““… as many have…” which undermine your point is not a strong move.
*****An interesting description of the loss of interest in booze can be found at UnHerd where “Is it last orders for German beer? Disaster is brewing in Bavaria” by Ian Birrell was published this week with this odd scene from Oktoberfest: “Not that everyone is into wellness. In one tent, I come across a lively group snorting what I presume was cocaine from the top of a bald man’s shiny head. One gives me a big grin as he sniffs deeply, then wipes his nose. Two tables down, another ebullient gang of pals pass around a mirror with chunky white lines laid out on it. Minutes later, I pass yet another high-spirited gaggle tapping small piles of powder onto their clenched fists.“
******It’s good to have a good civil disagreement. Stan misses them.   I once recommended a client sign a document in addition to a contract called a “Letter of Disagreement” to clarify what was and wasn’t acceptable. They didn’t.

The Beery News Notes For The Threat Of Frost And The Yanks And Jays In What Might Just Be A Post-Passion World

Well, since we last met… yes, fine… the Red Sox lost last Thursday. But then the Yankees (who beat the Sox… my Sox) got their own butts kicked in the first two games of the next series by the Jays who took it all in game four last night which… sorta made me feel… schadenfreudig? Is that the word? I dunno. Or is it dünno? Anyway, the other word on my mind is frost. I will only know at sunrise this Thursday morning if the sheets and covers that I threw over the tomatoes and basil and beans did the job. (Update: -0.3C at 6 am!) But it is autumn. And it doesn’t matter if there is no frost for the two weeks after today if the frost came today. Most years, with luck, I can coax something or another to keep on growing right up to November. With luck.

Speaking of words, on Tuesday Jeff wrote about the doom and gloom in the beer trade, reviving some thoughts from 2013 as he did – a discussion in one way about perceptions that the choice of words convey as much as the context. The context being if one is on the way up or the way down. This week’s news notes seem to carry a bit of the weight of those sorts of perceptions so I feel like this sort of preamble is needed to remind ourselves that it’s just the point in time we find ourselves in. We need to reflect. To consider our lot. Sorta how I feel when I look at the black leaves of a tomato patch after a killing frost. When I reflect. And swear a little. So I will perhaps a bit intentionally mix the bad news with some things that are lighter and see what happens. Good thing there’s plenty to read.

First, about that cyberattack* in Japan on Asahi that I mentioned last week. It seems that it has been resolved but I hadn’t appreciated how it create quite serious issues for the broader Japanese bevvy and snacking market:

Most of the Asahi Group’s factories in Japan were brought to a standstill after the attack hit its ordering and delivering systems on Monday. Major Japanese retailers, including 7-Eleven and FamilyMart, have now warned customers to expect shortages of Asahi products… Asahi is the biggest brewer in Japan, but it also makes soft drinks and food products, as well as supplying own-brand goods to other retailers… In its latest statement, Asahi said that as a result of containment measures following the attack, ordering and shipment systems in Japan had been affected and it was also unable to receive emails from external sources.

Speaking of containment, consider Mr. Gladman on two types of entryways to basement bars and how their architecture guides the experience:

The street-steps-door type of basement bar usually has windows somewhere on its street-facing wall and so maintains a connection to the city outside (Type A Basement Bar in the Gladman Taxonomy of Bars…)  Bars like this can be hard to find even if you know about them… It’s a tiny adventure that ends with a delicious reward. These bars are often unpretentious and cosy — everyone is hunkered down together, hidden away in a prime spot, unnoticed by the schmoes passing by just a few feet above. The other, street-door-steps type of basement bar (Type B) is even more concealed at street level, often offering just a small sign above a door. Within this lurks a clipboard-wielding, radio-headset-wearing guardian, like Cerberus at the gates to a boozy underworld. Once you’re in, it’s often entirely devoid of natural light. It is its own world, womb-like and all encompassing.

Not so many people walking down these sorts of steps in Brazil – both Type A and B – which is reasonable given the news:

…the market has a new worry: the crisis caused by contamination of distilled beverages with methanol. For now, it’s not possible to determine the impact of this on the beer industry going forward. On the one hand, bars are emptier and parties have been canceled due to the negative repercussions of the contamination. On the other hand, greater consumer concern about cocktails has led to a strong shift toward beer, seen as safer.

My dive bar tourist trip to Rio is now officially cancelled. But more weclome might be a stop at The Dog and Bell in Deptford, London which is the subject of this week’s feature in Pellicle penned… or perhaps rather keyboard clicked by Will Hawkes:

This backstreet boozer in a historically unglamorous part of town has not only survived the pub cull of the past few decades, it has thrived. Indeed, few London pubs are currently more fashionable. How? Well, for all the Dog and Bell’s singularity, its story tracks the evolution of pubs in modern London from the 1970s, when they were ubiquitous, to now, our frantic, distracting era of Instagram Guinness and event culture, when a simple pint in the pub is no longer good enough reason to get off the sofa. It’s been a long journey, but at every key junction over the past 50 years this charismatic pub has taken the right turn. 

A loving portrait of a welcome local and perhaps unexpected gem. Conversely, I don’t expect to be following in the footsteps of  Jason Wilson who brought an extreme level of exactitude to the consideration of an extremely expensive beverage – coffee that costs $30,000 a kilo:

Each sip I tried—and we were served small sips because of the limited amount of this coffee—had its own personality. Each producer and variety had a different flavor profile, mouthfeel, aroma, even color. While some may regard coffee tastings like this one as snobby or ridiculous, I appreciate the intense mindfulness and attention to detail coffee fanatics have. In one sip of coffee, there are flowers, fruits, foods, and even songs. I tried each of them for myself, then read the judge descriptions from the Best of Panama auction to compare thoughts. Some may disagree, but I try to treat it as if there is no right and wrong, just opinions.

And, speaking of opinions, Boak and Bailey posted a bit of a questionaire on the status of Belgian beer culture, asking folk for their thoughts about whether the beers and pubs they encountered on a recent trip were (my words) out of date duds or treasures at risk:

There’s also something about how the beers we tried on this recent trip didn’t seem to have evolved from Belgian brewing tradition so much as they were inspired directly by American-led homebrewing culture. It’s really weird to drink a Belgian-brewed saison and think, huh, this tastes like one of those ‘farmhouse IPAs’ people were making back home in about 2012. When we think of newer Belgian breweries we do like, it’s because they’ve found a way to push the parameters while still producing beer that tastes and feels Belgian.

This generous sort of the asking of the questions is a very useful tool of one is wanting to advance one’s education. Seek the views of others to check your own assumptions. Among the responses, the particularly well-placed Eoghan provided a lot of insight from the local point of view:

I don’t disagree that Belgium has one of the richest and most diverse beer cultures in Europe, and it is a small miracle that so many idiosyncratic beer traditions managed to survive the tumultuous 20th century – more tumultuous here in Belgium than they maybe allow for. But it was their proposition that Belgian beer culture is defined by evolution not revolution that prompted my little piece of anachronistic time travel above. It is true that Belgian brewers – to borrow an idea I first stole from fellow Belgophile Joe Stange – are past masters at co-opting and finetuning wider brewing trends to make them palatable in Belgium. My contention is, however, that the history of Belgian beer is more of a Hegelian dialectic, a process of thesis-antithesis-synthesis evidenced less by evolution that by periods of stability punctuated by significant, discombobulating ruptures.

See, that is great. Fascinating – and I don’t even know what half of that up there means! Another thing I don’t know is whether a Spanish beer brewed in Britian in a British brewery owned by a Spanish brewing firm is Spanish or not:

This week Damm will make its first meaningful manufacturing foray outside Iberia when it opens a brewery in Bedford. The move represents an investment of almost €100 million (£87 million) and will create scores of jobs. The company is going to great lengths to ensure its UK-brewed beers taste the same as those made in Barcelona by sticking to the original recipe and investing in the equipment to ensure the product is identical.

Hmm… I still don’t know. But if we are sticking with the examination of not only how things became what that are but also what are these things in themselves, there is no better assessor than The Beer Nut who wrote about the recent final edition of the annual Borefts beerfest:

Two brewery stands at the 2025 Borefts Beer Festival seemed to have almost continuous queues. One of them I could understand: the New England legend Hill Farmstead. Early on day one I tried the barrel-aged coffee porter they brought, The Birth of Tragedy… This isn’t the sort of beer I associate with Hill Farmstead but it has been created with the same level of expertise. Canadian brewery Badlands was next to them and was, if anything, even more popular with the crowds. I had never heard of them so had no idea what the fuss was about. After they sold out and closed up early on the first day, I made sure to be there early on the second… [After trying two of their beers…] I was none the wiser regarding the Badlands fuss. They didn’t seem to be doing things particularly different to a thousand other microbreweries..

So, there you have both broader analysis of the cultures of beer as well as specific examination of each beer, drip by drip in the common context of the fest. All cheery and interesting exercises in digging around and thinking about beer. David Jesudason dug into another chestnut for the Wine & Spirit Education Trust, unpacking what’s called IPA but what he calls “IPA”:

The first ‘IPAs’ – note quotation marks – were sent out on East India Company boats in the 1760s and were strong, highly hopped ales due to India’s warm climate: the hops’ antimicrobial properties combined with the high alcohol level aimed to prevent spoilage. These were a cross between a bitter and a barleywine and by the time they arrived in India the hop character had vanished into the Bay of Bengal. They were said to taste more like champagne than beer. In reality, they were a world away from a modern IPA. Samuel Allsopp was the first to market them as Indian Pale Ales – and tie them to colonial decadence – after he copied Londoner George Hodgson’s recipe but crucially brewed them in Burton, where the minerals in the water further emphasized the beer’s hop character. These were bitter British ales or similar to heavily hopped autumn stock beers.

And Laura Hadland took on a task that I wish more writers who focus on beer attempt – discussing wine:

The lights were low for a chic soiree organised by Wines of Hungary at Vagabond Wines in Birmingham yesterday. Twenty five producers were showcasing their wines to an enthused audience of trade, media and more. I had an hour to work my way round the hit list that I had prepared in advance – nowhere near enough time. Especially since the winemakers and their sales teams were so enthusiastic about their wares that they all insisted on having us try every single one.

My experience of Hungarian wine started with some pretty hefty even harsh Bulls Blood out by the town’s water resevoir in high school but I now hoard sweet Tokaji which I never seem to get around to opening as fast as I find them. Of course, that means my wake might be worth the trip as my fam gives them away along with my record collection.

ATJ shared more serious thoughts on mortality in his piece “Funeral Pints” where the swirling thoughts at a time of loss were steadied with gratitude by a bracing pint among others in a pub:

The clunk of loose change as it goes into a pitcher, ‘thank you very much William’, ‘not a problem’, a stooped man with a face that reminds me of a thinner version of WC Fields.’ ‘Here he is.’ ‘He ain’t got a jacket.’ ‘What’s it to you,’ comes the reply. ‘He was dressed up as a boy scout yesterday,’ says another voice. The man with the long face who photographed his breakfast is having a talk with himself, while elsewhere pints are piling up on tables. Tattoos, chewing, chomping, swallowing, gulping, laughing, ‘listen mate’, finger pointed without malice. We’d better get to the funeral.

The drink finds a place in so many moments. And does the job. Even now at a time which we are subject to so much that feels like wave upon wave of a grim big picture, like this data* from Beer Marketers’ Insights:

Craft beer trends (ex non-alc) steepened over the summer to volume -8.4% and $$ -6.4%; several pts below total beer volume -5.6% and $$ down 5.1% for 18 wks thru Sep 20 vs yr ago. And when comparing craft’s yr-to-date sales thru Sep 20 vs the same period in 2023, the # of craft vendors (-10%), sub-brands (-13%) and SKUs (-12.5%) are all down double digits.**

From that view of the general, for the double, Jeff also wrote on a specific application in his obit* of Upright, a favourite brewery facing its end:

Craft brewing has spent a huge amount of time navel-gazing over what it means to have a clear vision. This often bled into marketing bromides, as breweries repackaged derivative products as original and creative. That development led to some of the cynicism that marks the mood today. Upright did have a clear vision, however—and Alex seemed almost immune to commercial considerations. Upright always felt more like a sixth-generation Belgian or Franconian brewery than an American craft brewery to me.

A wonderful remembrance of the soon to be no more. Summing up based on all the above, can we draw conclusions? Well we could ask ourselves (yet again*) whether the function of good beer writing to support the industry or to more broadly understand the trade and culture. By way of illustration, consider this:

“…The Guild’s board members are all driven by our shared passion for the beer industry and those who work within it. We’re proud to represent the very best of beer and cider communicators, who are such an important asset to the wider industry…”

A familiar line that’s become cliché and so nothing against the particular speaker. A prominant popular theme voiced for the best part of two decades, perhaps until somewhat recently. I mention that in the context of this article in The New York Times which is, yes, yet another obit* for US craft beer but, perhaps unusually, one that contains some interesting admissions:

This summer, 21st Amendment believed it had found a way to keep at least some of its operations going. It planned to bring in a new partner and start buying smaller craft beer brands that it would brew in San Leandro. But in late August, the lender pulled the plug on that idea. In late September, 21st Amendment closed its flagship brewpub in San Francisco. The San Leandro location is expected to shutter by the end of this month. “We were driven by our passion for craft brewing, and we got so caught up in it that we had blinders around what the reality is for craft brewing right now,” said Shaun O’Sullivan, a co-founder of 21st Amendment. “We’re a cautionary tale right now to anybody who wants to grind down and open up their own place. It’s just not a good time.”

So is / was “passion” an “important asset” or a form of those “blinders“? Whether in business or in writing. Maybe both. What ever happened to well-earned hard-bitten steely-eyed objectivity? Why did we not foresee, just as the rise casinos and later lotto tickets stripped gambling of its vice, how craft beer was infantalizing booze with kiddie friendly fruit flavours in brightly coloured cans – and even converting every tavern into potential seminar spaces.*** I blame the “don’t judge the tastes of others” line. Who writes without hoping to offer incisive opinion? You know, if the beer writers, by error or omission, participated in priming the passion pump with boosterisms during the era of irrational exhuberence… is it not reasonable to consider that the oeuvre itself aided in the downturn to some degree?****  That’s sorta summed up by that old nugget, the one about the rising tide raising all boats that we heard so much about. We also know that the tide falls. Twice a day. Every day. But most folk forgot* to mention that.*****

Doesn’t mean, however, that we can’t learn lessons from the downturn. We might even consider ourselves now “post-passion” in our relation to beer and beer writing. That would be good. Without, you know, sponsored articles or A.I. articles****** or even A.I. sponsored A.I. articles.* That would be better. Based on the above we can see people can and will doubledown and keep digging around, questioning conventions and asking the right questions about what is and what isn’t the good stuff in all this beery culture.******* I’m sure we can. Well, you all can. I just read this stuff.

That’s a lot. And there’s still the footnotes below. While you are chewing on all this, 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 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.

*YIKES!!!
**At least it’s not as bad as in Russia: “In the first half of 2025, retail beer sales in Russia fell by 16.3 percent year-on-year… Due to the increase in excise taxes (they increased by 15.4 percent at the beginning of the year), the cost increased accordingly. In 2023, the average price per liter of beer was 120 rubles, in 2024 — 129 rubles, and at the end of July 2025 it reached 151 rubles per liter — prices have increased by more than a quarter (26 percent) since 2023, Nielsen added.“
***The signs outside the craft beer bars said “Off-flavour Seminars Every Tuesday!” I thought of that when reading this passage from “The Engines and Empires of New York City Gambling”by Adam Gopnik, The New Yorker, August 4,  2025: “Gambling, too, now divides the world between those who know enough to make it boring and those who—bored—prefer not to know. They play and lose anyway. Thrilling games, like thrilling cities, thrive on enigmatic imperfections: the small market anomalies that quants scour for an edge, the tells and giveaways that reward the observant and elude the rest. Once all is understood, all is dull. Gambling may once have belonged to the Devil, but I assure you it does no longer. The arrival of organized gambling in its casino form has stripped away even the faded glamour of old miscreants like Rothstein and St. Clair. When, at last, detailed renderings of the proposed Caesars Palace emerged, they were hilariously decorous, showing not crowds of modern Harry the Horses and Nathan Detroits but elegantly dressed men and women in dignified black, playing in poker rooms that looked ready to host a seminar.“
****And to be sure we can also lay much at the door of the evangelizing homogenizing craft industry conference seminars which took a page from time share symposiums. Imperial Pilsner anyone? Everyone?
*****Did I ever mention I spent school years right into undergrad next to the Bay of Fundy? Nevermind. Perhaps now’s the time for the trade’s comms people to adopt of the “Big Yellow Taxi” message – “drink craft: you don’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone.” It could work. Something might.
******Can’t wait for that market sector‘s crash! It’s all relative.
*******BTW there was some great beer writing advice set out in last Saturday’s footnotes from B+B: “Prop Up The Bar is a new blog to us. It’s a proper old-fashioned blog, full of massive photos that haven’t been edited and typos. It’s made us think again that the professionalisation of blogging arguably didn’t do it any favours and has perhaps discouraged people from just having a go, like Nick C, using their blog as a diary. In that context, props are due to Martin Taylor whose blog is well written and well researched, but never feels as if it’s taking itself massively seriously. (Yes, we know, we should watch and learn.) It signals that, actually, you can just have adventures and quickly write them up.“

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.

Are These Beery News Notes About The Here And Now Or The There And Then?

Summer shouldn’t be when peas take off around here but a regular dousing of cold watering plus seed stock bought from further south than usual seems to have done the trick. That’s a purple velvet Magnolia Blossom pea tip just about to burst. I really don’t concern myself whether it’s going to be tasty or not if it all looks that good. Rabbits? You ask about the rabbits? Well, suffice to say the foxes that moved into the neighbourhood have culled the squirrels… but rabbits? Some radical chicken wire applications have been applied. Treatments which offer fewer treats. Rabbits? Hah!!

Speaking of me and mine, I can’t let the week pass without mentioning a visit by ferry to a really great bar restaurant called Spicer’s Dockside Grill on Wolfe Island just off of my fair city. The place even have a cabana style bar on a dock right where the Great Lakes meet the great St. Lawrence River. A fabulous spot. I’m sharing below a few thumbnails circa 2011 style. I hope they render for you as they render for me… which is essentially the Bloggers’ Prayer, innit. Click for bigger and clearer views.

 

 

 

 

Back in the basement, on Monday Stan got me thinking. It’s not often that I admit to thinking but Stan did it. He went and got me thinking this very week about times gone by.  Because he quoted a piece about the beginning of blogging that diverged from my understanding. It wasn’t gatekeepers and curators. It was hawkers, carnies even shouting “hey look at this… I have no idea what it is but it’s all free!” But these things happen. Time shapes the past. And the beginnings of blogging are events from over thirty years ago, half my life ago. It was 9/11 that really caused the broader introspection on display that fed the hobby I kept up with this here site, now about twenty-two and a half years in operation. That is a bit of a thing.  So as we move forward again through the beery news note trust me on this one point: not curated, just gathered and dumped at your feet.

Next up, I came across this excellent explanation of the role and the value of a sommilier by Michele Garguilo that I am not sure quite entirely translates to beer given the scale of markups – except perhaps at the taproom:

The myth persists that a beverage director is a high-ticket hire, a luxury reserved for Michelin stars and major market darlings. But what if I told you that a skilled somm can turn your backstock into liquid gold? That we can reduce spoilage, increase check average, and train your servers to sell smarter in under a month? That our average salary is less than your linen bill, but our impact reaches every guest, every night? We manage theft, negotiate prices, find off-label steals that taste like first growths. We’re part strategist, part magician. But because we don’t always wear chef coats or burn ourselves on the line, we’re treated as “nice to have.” Meanwhile, we’re making you 10–30% in beverage profit on every ticket. You don’t need to afford a sommelier. You need to afford not having one.

I mention that about taprooms given, as I hope you know, the 1987 article in The Atlantic called “A Glass of Handmade” by William Least Heat Moon. It was, personally speaking, a highly influential take on the contemporary micro brewing scene which can be now found at page 31 in the compilation of his essays Here, There, Everywhere. Therein at page 51, Bill Owens of Buffalo Bill’s Brewpub is quoted as saying:

My cost to make a glass of lager – and that’s all I brew now – that lager cost seven cents. I sell it for a dollar and a half.

Screen shot of a portion of a beer review column by Laura Hadland in The Telegraph with a one star review for Beavertown Cosmic Drop Watermelon Punch Beer Speaking of value, Laura has had another fine set of reviews published in The Telegraph and, once again, provided clear guidance on the value proposition:

The light red beer looks attractive but I found the flavour sickly like melted down gummy bears. It suggests watermelon but is too sweet to be refreshing. No thanks.

Fabulous. If someone never tells you what is bad, you really can’t trust their opinion on what is good.

Still… I do get pushed around.  All the time. I’m used to it so it’s no big whoop but this week the powers that be behind DC Beer “recommended” that I consider share this tale by Andy MacWilliams on the 60 hours he and herself spent in Italy:

Having been to more than 80 countries and having sought out craft beer in all of them, the Italian scene seems dialed in. Sure, I avoided the obvious potholes, like the one or two smoothie sours I saw on menus. As I reflect on everything I sampled, only one item was bad. Everything else was either true to style or uniquely Italian. Most offerings honored tradition, even the new school traditions. Those that didn’t felt like they embraced the unique agricultural ingredients Italy has to offer. I suppose I’m slightly impressed. Very few things are truly worth the wait, but Fortunata is. Deirdre has the classic ragu while I get one of the dishes they are known for, carbonara. Savoring a bite of mine, Deirdre wonders what makes the carbonara so creamy, which I assume is roughly 17 egg yolks.

That is a lotta yolk. A whole lotta yolk. Conversely, somethings are less. I’ve mentioned before how Canada has cut US wine imports as a “thanks but no thanks” to the orange glow to the south  – now looking like a mind boggling 97.2% drop from May 2024 to May 2025 – but what does that looks like in terms of the internal market? Robyn Miller of the CBC reports:

“Ontarians are increasingly committed to buying local and Canadian products,” an LCBO spokesperson said in a statement. “VQA wine (made from 100% Ontario-grown grapes) has seen a sales increase of over 60%, with VQA reds and whites seeing growth of 71% and 67% respectively, and VQA sparkling wine growing by +28%.” From the beginning of March until early June, total wine sales dropped by 13 per cent, the LCBO added.

Which is nice. No jingoism is better than clinky drinky jingoism.

And Matty C cleared himself for takeoff in this week’s feature at Pellicle with a portrait of the White Peak Distillery in Ambergate, Derbyshire – yes, English whiskey makers! Check it out:

As of May 2025, around 2,700 barrels are in-situ at White Peak Distillery. It has since added a second core bottling, a full maturation ex-bourbon barrel English single malt, alongside its Shining Cliff Gin and White Peak Rum. It also regularly releases limited, often more experimental whisky bottlings, from a full port barrel finish, to showcasing heritage barley varieties, and even collaborations with local breweries for which barrels have been swapped and shared. It was on hearing about the latter that I decided to visit White Peak and meet Max and Claire, before leaving with a sense this might be one of the most exciting distilling projects in the country—full stop.

I would note that the “e” should only be dropped for Scotch… and maybe Canadian rye. But I won’t because that wouldn’t be nice. (Maybe even incorrect. But I will not be moved.) I would also note – and actually will note – that Derbyshire should be an excellent spot for this sort of thing as 350 years ago it was the hot spot in England for malt production and strong ale brewing, as careful readers of the archives will recall.

What else? As noted by B+B in their handy dandy footnotes, Mike Seay has shared a bit of slang that is worth remembering:

I ordered a couple of light lagers at Out Of The Barrel the other evening. I didn’t really want to, but they were near 4% and that is what I was after – keeping my wits about me while still enjoying a beer. It’s harder to find low ABV Ales than it is Lagers, which sucks for me. But I will manage. That brings me to this, something I like to call: slow roasting a beer. This is one of the new things I am learning as a single dude sitting at the bar. A guy with nowhere to be and not enough money to keep drinking whatever I want. I have to become better at milking a beer. You get to stay longer without spending more money. It’s camping at the bar.

In my day, that was called rotting. Rotting in a tav. Somewhat connected is the trepedation felt by at the US wholesale beer buying market, even in the lead up to last week’s Fourth of July, as reported by Beer Marketers’ Insights:

…looking ahead to the “last week of pre-holiday” data (thru Jun 29), Circana evp of bev alc Scott Scanlon “would expect to see at a minimum stability across [alc bev] categories with potential build as we head into holiday week data results,” he wrote in latest update. Gotta note, beer’s going up against particularly easy comps in Circana MULC for the last week of Jun due to calendar timing of last yr’s stock-up for July 4 holiday shifting into Jul: beer $$ slipped 11% with volume down 13% for 1 wk thru 06-30-24 vs yr ago. “Given poor Memorial Day performance all eyes will be on the 4th of July to see if we can recapture lost sales,” Scott underscored.

Recapturing lost sales is never going to happen. Doubling up on the second national binge when the first was a dud requires a doubled binge. Perhaps a replication of the “FESTIVAL!!!” on Star Trek’s “Return of the Archons“! A pop culture reference no doubt drilled into each of your minds. Which, given the times, is not outside the realm of the possible now that I think of it.

Speaking of flops, consider this article in VinePair on Enigma a long lost beer produced by Guinness from 1995 to 1998. The TV ads that ran for it for the first few months could well be one of the reasons it was no great success:

To promote the release, Guinness tapped Parisian advertising agency Publicis Groupe, and the resulting campaign featured a dream-like, surrealist TV ad depicting a man walking through a shapeshifting desert before being offered “a glass of the unusual” by a dapper server. The drinker remarks that the beer is “very smooth,” and then the server turns into a Dali-esque piano and vanishes in a burst of flames. Lastly, the words “a lager born of genius” slide onto the screen in the final few frames… Rather than spend more money on advertising or reformulating the product, Guinness simply dropped the price of the beer, making it more affordable, but also damaging its image as a premium offering. 

As an interesting juxtaposition – purely for educational purposes – here is a bit of current writing in the trade pep rally style that really got my head shaking this week:

A couple weeks ago, I laid out how Japanese culture is influencing a wide range of U.S. beverage categories, from beer to canned cocktails, and more than a few things in between. Since then, the pace of new launches and collaborations hasn’t slowed, it’s accelerated. What started as a snapshot is now beginning to feel like a full-blown movement. So here’s a fresh batch of recent releases and observations that continue to borrow from Japan, whether through ingredients or origin stories. Some are subtle nods, while others are straight-up love letters.

Wowsers. I’ve often wondered how this sort of thing and its kin damage the understanding of the actual factors facing brewers in this downturn. Irrational exhuberance.  Isn’t this sort of reporting out of the Adnams Annual General Meeting (AGM) by Jessica Mason ultimately more helpful even if the message is a bit of a tough one?

As confirmed in the Southwold-based pub, beer and spirit company’s statement ahead of its AGM, Adnams was able to reduce its level of debt over the previous 12 months and has lowered its borrowings by a further £7 million compared to June 2024. Despite these accomplishments its current debt, however, still stands at £11.5 million… db has contacted Adnams urging the business to offer more information on its proposed route out of the situation it finds itself in and how it will navigate the debt pile… Hanlon insisted that “the board of Adnams, and those who work throughout our business, are focused on delivering with openness and transparency as we move ahead in the second half of 2025″. Despite these claims, the company has remained silent on questions over how it is reducing costs and also how it will secure funds to avoid either sale or closure.

No exhuberance there, rational or irrational.  Like the discussion of sommeliers as value proposition, the drilling into a brewery’s financial statements is a great way to get past the spin to find out where things actually stand.

And that’s it for now. If I cast my eyes up, I see that there was a lot about veracity and value. I trust my own part in this bears some resemblance to both. Until we meet 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… 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 newsletter, The Gulp, too.  Ben’s Beer and Badword is out there with the all the sweary Mary! And check out the Atlantic Canada Beer Blog‘s weekly roundup. There is new reading at The Glass which is going back to being a blog. Any more? We have Ontario’s own A Quick Beer featuring visits to places like… Michigan! All About Beer has given space to some trade possy podcasts and there’s also The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast with an episode just last month!. And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good 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!

Your Sum-Sum-Summah-time Beery News Notes For The Last Thursday Of June 2025

Who knew? See, I now do all those NYT puzzles now, along with my 6:37 am big black coffee, as I try to wake up my brain cells first thing in the morning. This was never my thing. Ever. Until I joined the Wordle covid coping crew. Yet there it is – a clever observation in a Connections solution this week. Those who head out and those who stick around are both the left. Leavers v. leavings. I suppose you knew that one. I spot some sneaky things in this life but miss plenty of the obvious. We all do, I suppose. Just not the same things. We are all framed by our own individual gaps. Which I was thinking about this week when I noticed something this week, bits of writing about writing. Not meta blogging. Just a few little observations. Like Phil Cook who wrote this comment on Boak and Bailey’s on them not spilling all the beans:

I’ve been fascinated by that piece. I guess I still don’t understand why you’d keep those concerns as subtext — or cover them at all, if you didn’t feel you could be more plain about them. The rise and fall of Fox Friday in Australia (rapidly expanding, slickly designed, all that) when the law finally caught up with their shady financier haunts me as a comparison. Lots of people got burned in that collapse. In that case, there wasn’t a Wikipedia page full of priors to point to that might encourage people to be more on guard. But when there is, why not highlight it?

My two cents is that their habit of keeping a few things back helps make their writing so good. A polite but informed reticence. It’s part of their tone that, frankly, keeps you connected as a reader. Conversely, have you ever get a PR email like I did this week – and you know they’ve never read your beer related website?  One that says…

We thought a roundup story of Canadian long weekend brew pairings could be of interest to your audiences…

Lordy. I never though I would have multiple audences. Sweet! Identify yourselves!! Their client will go unnamed. It’s not their fault. (See I can do it, too. I can be restrained.) Somewhat similarly and adopting a stream of consciousness fantasy futurist approach, Dave Infante thinks someone somewhere is willing to pay for a generic PR media campaign for draft beer because it worked for milk a few decades back:

…a cold glass of beer? Normal. Better than normal: aspirational. Colorful in the glass; dynamic with an effervescent head. Emphatically not weirdo sh*t. “Got Milk?” was brilliant because the dairy industry — the f*cking dairy industry — was able to harness the power of marketing to convince the American drinking public that milk — f*cking milk — was glamorous. That was a very deep hole to climb out of! And “Got Milk?” did it. With such a built-in advantage, don’t you think a beer-industry analogue boosting draft beer, which people already like, might be able to generate sales in addition to goodwill?

Lordy Lordy. Who’s paying for that? Not quite as unrestrained this week – yet perhaps also a tad wild eyed – was one Mr. Beeson on the beery business story of the splitting of the UK’s Signature Brew, they now putting the debt in one half and the assets in another to see if some part of the overall thing survives. He posted his story in The Grocer with a 23 June dateline, as he announced on BlueSky as an exclusive, which included a quote from co-founder of said division in progress, Tom Bott, that the “restructure allows us to finally put the challenges of the past behind us and focus on building the future we know Signature Brew is capable of…” mentioning the need to address the “legacy debt” – aka debt. But then on the very same day, Jessica Mason had her story on the same subject published in The Drinks Business:

Speaking exclusively to db about the ordeal that the company has faced to stay afloat, Bott explained: “This restructure allows us to finally put the challenges of the past behind us and focus on building the future we know Signature Brew is capable of. We have built a business that is profitable, resilient and unique, blending great beer with incredible live music experiences. By addressing legacy debt in a controlled way, we are…

Much of the quoted wording attributed to the same Mr. Bott in each story is identical to the other.* Now, we can’t find fault that part of the team guiding Bott and Co. through insolvency restructuring includes a PR / comms specialist who handed out very firm speaking points – but why give both Beeson and Mason the expectation that these were exclusive interviews when they simply were not? No need to leave that hanging implication.

But there is more. The beating that truth and good sense get even worse in this brave new world – as Lars found out this week:

I’ve been preparing for our upcoming holiday in Georgia, and was looking for beer places in Kutaisi. Georgia still has farmhouse brewing, but it’s not 100% clear where, so I was really excited to read this on a site about tourism in Georgia. So excited, in fact, I emailed a woman in Kutaisi who… wrote a bar guide. She’d never heard of it, and suggested it might be AI hallucinations. The moment I read that my doubts about this photo (that’s not a traditional Georgian cauldron) came back with full force. Looking at the page again I see that the whole thing is AI garbage… It’s depressing really. It used to be that you could be fooled by people deliberately lying to you, but now you can even be fooled by a bunch of numbers employed by lazy assholes. They’re not even trying to fool you, just randomly bullshitting.

Wow. Yet, if we reflect upon this, it is even less than bullshitting, too, as there is no intention behind the formation of the falsehood. No thinking mind. It’s less than a lie, less than even the PR fluff stuff we choke upon every week. It all reminded me of something Jordan wrote me a few weeks back:

Do you realize how lucky we were to get into the sweet spot of the internet with Ontario Beer? You couldn’t research it now. The AI has gummed up the works.

Truuf. There was a golden era but this ain’t it. Speaking of modernity induced head scratchers, this set of 1967 interviews on the introduction of drunk driving laws in the UK includes a few suprememly nut-so arguments:

The pedestrian could have too much to drink. He could cause an accident. He doesn’t get tested. It’s the driver who gets tested, and I think that’s unfair… For many many years, I’ve drove with far more liquor in me than I have now…

Would one name and shame now? Or just fondly remember: “… and right there – that’s your great aunt Peggy right there, son, after she came back from Africa and before she went to jail.” Personally, I may not have driven in Kenya or Uganda but I remember working with a guy in 1982-ish Nova Scotia who had cut a hole in the floor of his truck’s cab just below his steering wheel that let him drop the beer cans down to the road at the end of the work day. The past is a foreign land. Or is it?

Moving to the same sort of themes today, Reuters reports that it’s going to be yesterday once more for the US when it comes to the government’s recommendations for healthy drinking:

The U.S. government is expected to eliminate from its dietary guidelines the long-standing recommendation that adults limit alcohol consumption to one or two drinks per day, according to three sources familiar with the matter, in what could be a major win for an industry threatened by heightened scrutiny of alcohol’s health effects. The updated Dietary Guidelines for Americans, which could be released as early as this month, are expected to include a brief statement encouraging Americans to drink in moderation or limit alcohol intake due to associated health risks…

Is that so wrong? We may not have to concern ourselves with the counting of fingers and who’s wiser than who if the focus moves to the results rather than how many got you there. After all, no one argued that this or than number of ciggies or cheese burgers shorten your life… it was just confirmed that they did.

Speaking of science, I really liked this post by Jeff and the woodland secrets of yeasty studies by two brewers in Oregon including Ferment Brewing’s Dan Peterson:

…he started tinkering. He started by putting the microbes he collected in an incubator, and then growing up little colonies.

“Then, some of them you could start identifying like, yep, these are bacterial colonies, these are yeast colonies. And then there’s always mold at that point, trying cover everything. So as they’re growing, it’s a a race to get colonies [established] before the mold takes over. But once those are split up and on their own petri plates, they’re free of mold and completely isolated from each other.”

Speaking of yeast coated containers, Chimay is selling cans of the good stuff:

The Chimay Dorée, Rouge and Triple – ranging in alcohol content from 4.8% to 8% – are now available in 33cl cans. The heavier Bleue and Verte varieties will remain bottled for the time being. “You don’t drink those in just a few gulps,” said CEO Pierre-Louis Dhaeyer. The abbey has been developing the canned versions for over three years, and has already conducted initial market trials in the United States and Japan, where canned craft beer is far more common.

Can o’ Triple? Mmmm… refreshing. That’s not going to lead to any problems, no sir-ee!

And speaking of the fine arts, this week’s feature in Pellicle has many good paragraphs but this one by Robin Vliebergen in her piece “The Apples of Limburg”  is among the finest paragraphs on the drink I have read this year:

The older they are, the higher these trees grow, and therefore it becomes more difficult to pick their fruit. As their owners also grow older, this creates a very practical problem: the trees become too difficult for them to harvest. They are left with a glut of high-quality local apples, in need of young fit people to pick them. Reinier mentioned this problem to Bonne and Job, and so the first vintage of Cidre Sauvage was born.

Fabulous. The only tweek I might have added would be somehow weaving in “high quality on high limbs” but, as you know, I am a bit of a wag. And finally remember – speaking of waggery – this very weekend is the exact time to post your thoughts in response to Laura Hadland‘s question for The Session this month:

It doesn’t matter whether you have hosted a pub quiz, or just attended one. Or maybe you’re vaguely aware that pub quizzes exist, but you’ve made it your mission to steer clear. What is the best, most entertaining set of questions or challenges that can be posed to the punter? What single topic has engaged you the most? What is it that makes a great pub quiz stand out head and shoulders above the rest? What might tempt you into attending if trivia night is something you usually swerve?

I know what I’m going to say… but I’m not saying it yet! And it isn’t “name that smell!”  You. You should submit something. Do it? Tell your grandchildren when you are old that you did, too. They will be both flatout amazed and rippling with pride.

That’s it. I am settled in for summer now. Canada’s next week. Brace yourselves. In the meantime, please check out Boak and Bailey every Saturday. Look out for Stan as he is posting irregularly 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 with the new addition of his Desi Food Guide now on Tuesdays. And maybe The British Food History Podcast. Maybe? And Phil Mellows is at the BritishBeerBreaks. Once a month, Will Hawkes issues his London Beer City newsletter and do sign up for Katie’s wonderful newsletter, The Gulp, too, now relocated to her own website, Katie Mather Writes.  Ben’s monthly Beer and Badword is on its summer break but there’s plenty to catch up on! And check out the Atlantic Canada Beer Blog‘s weekly roundup. There is new reading at The Glass which is going back to being a blog. Any more? We have Ontario’s own A Quick Beer featuring visits to places like… Michigan! All About Beer has given space to some trade possy podcasts and there’s also The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast with an episode just last month!. And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good but, hmm, they’ve also gone a bit 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!

*Far more obvious than the big news in rice v. the big news in rice, right?

The Beery News Notes For The Week We Lost Martyn Cornell

I learned the very sad news on Sunday that Martyn Cornell of Zythophile and many other things had died. Within minutes the tributes started being shared. Martyn was a veteran journalist and news editor, beer writer and historian. And a traveller, whether for newspaper work in Hong Kong or in Chile as a recent hotel breakfast buffet partner for Ron. I first met him in the comments left at this here blog twenty-two years ago when he left a note on my review of Pete Brown’s first book. We soon chatted again when, as invited, I reviewed Martyn’s first book a few month later and the conversation pretty much continued for over two decades after that.

As many have shared, he was fun and clever company. He’d get mad at me – usually quite deservedly – and yet would kindly share tips and ask for leads. Now a decade and a half ago, we had a great time on the wiki project reviewing the OCB. As I wrote to Alistair on Facebook after the news of his passing was shared, Maryn had such a singular presence, both impatiently crotchety and entirely encouraging at the same time. It was all one thing. He just wanted more of us to be writing more, all building the body of knowledge. In the running to do list I keep there was a task I had left for myself: “dig up note for Martyn.” More about the 1600s English strong ales named after their cities. I never around got to it. Craig had some particularly fine words:

I’m not sure beer history writers count as celebrities. But if they do, there must be a pantheon of the mild-mannered—and surely at the top of that list was Martyn Cornell. I don’t get starstruck often, but sharing a pint with him in Colonial Williamsburg came pretty close. Before that, our conversations had been limited to late-night emails—questions, thoughts, rabbit holes. He always replied. And his replies always led me deeper down the trail. Martyn was whip-smart, a bit shy, and deeply committed to facts. He had no patience for myths or baloney—not out of pedantry, but because he believed the truth was always more interesting than the fiction. He was my friend, and I will miss him.

He always replied. That was Martyn. Very sad news.

——————————

I am going to post a few news items this week but perhaps not at much as one a normal one. Starting with one that certainly in line for Martyn’s wish for us all, Phil Cook hosted another excellent edition of The Session in which many beer who like to write about beer wrote this month about beer in art. Plenty of good entries and the annoucement that we need someont to continue the relay as Phil summed up:

Massive thanks to everyone who contributed; it’s a great collection of observations. No one has, as yet, put up their hand to volunteer for the June edition so if you have an idea, let me know. It’s a little work, but a lot of fun.

And, speaking of travels, Matt Gross shared a detailed portrait of Q Bar in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, a hidden hotspot he frequented in the 1990s:

Eventually, I realized I had been regularly flying right past it on my 70cc moped, and I understood why I’d overlooked it: Q Bar was tucked into the side of the Saigon opera house. Of all places! This Beaux-Arts edifice, built by the French colonial powers and opened in 1900, this 500-seat hulk that anchored key streets at the core of District 1, had a warren of dark little rooms off to the right, and a tiny patio and a strip of grass. This was Q Bar. I simply had never passed by at the correct hour to note that, as the sun began to descend, this small patch began to fill up with expatriates, with returning Vietnamese from France, Canada, the United States, and beyond, and even with some locals who, perhaps earlier than others, understood that Q Bar was not just the best bar in Saigon but among the best bars in the world.

And Lars has been travelling east – very east in fact – on journey to discover all he can about farmhouse ales. He was in Alsunga, Latvia meeting with a Suiti brewer who had some pretty rustic techniques leading to a good drink:

Visiting a brewer in Alsunga today, belonging to the Suiti minority, which is Catholic. He’s brewing for midsummer. He ties rye straw around the pole for the lauter tun. In the lauter tun is juniper (usually), rye straw, and birch twigs. Lovely raw ale, soft and mild, with notes of juniper and also honey. Could drink this all day. Cooling the wort in the local pond across the road.

Transporting you elsewhere, David Jesudason is transporting us further with his first installment of Just A Bite, to a carpark in England to eat Kenyan influenced fare from a van:

…to land here in Denmark Hill is odd. It’s bizarre that in such a bleak, concrete location – literally everywhere you look is brick, tarmac or truck wheels, despite being so near Ruskin Park – you can have such transcendent food. Now I’m not saying something as hyperbolic as one bite whisks you to the Kenya savannahs of Bharat’s childhood but the spicing is so balanced that it offsets the heat of the chili; and tastes far more regal than you’d expect food to be at a polluted business park just off a forgotten part of Coldharbour Lane. The tikka pieces are almost burnt, crispy on the outside but delicately soft in the middle, while masala chips have a zesty coating of ginger and cumin. I’m a complete fan boy for the mint chutney that doesn’t scrimp on the fire.

Laura Hadland in another of her regular contributions to The Telegraph wrote about what beers can be found at local Lidl, the grocery chain, and she was looking for bargains:

I put Lidl’s beer range through a rigorous taste test to mine for quality bargains. This included a selection of Lidl’s own-label products as well as some of the well-known brands it offers… Examining the range as a whole, I quickly noticed that almost every bottle is labelled “premium”. To paraphrase The Incredibles, if everything is super then nothing is – the descriptor loses all meaning. I therefore tasted the range blind, to prevent undue influence from the packaging or my own personal bias.

Relatedly perhaps on the point of budgeting, in The New York Times there was an interesting story on the demise of something not done so much in Canada unless you are in a restopub sort of place: running a tab:

It’s unclear when younger drinkers started souring on bar tabs, but there’s a through line between the Covid-19 pandemic and shifting bar habits. “During and after the pandemic, more people started using cards,” said Doug Kantor, an executive committee member of the Merchants Payments Coalition, a retailers group. Coupled with Gen Z’s distaste for carrying around cash (or a physical wallet, for that matter), the ubiquity of mobile payment options, such as Apple Pay, has contributed to the decline of bar tabs among 20-somethings.

Also speaking perhaps of budgeting in another sense, over there on the US west coast, the much heralded sale of Anchor Brewing to Chobani yogurt billionaire Hamdi Ulukaya of a year ago has led to questions today, as reported by Truong and Kane in The San Francisco Standard:

Through fencing at the old Anchor Brewing taproom in Potrero Hill, passersby can spot a branded, baby-blue, 1940s-era GMC truck at one end of a lot overgrown with weeds. Since July 2023, when Japanese beer giant Sapporo vacated the complex, both the monolithic off-white Art Deco headquarters at 1705 Mariposa St. and the taproom across the street have remained idle. Now, vines and delicate purple flowers snake through the truck’s rusting grille — and San Francisco beer drinkers continue to go without longtime favorites Anchor Steam, Liberty Ale, and the annual Christmas Ale. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Exactly one year ago, billionaire Hamdi Ulukaya posted a video on social media in which he sports an Anchor baseball cap and explains that he’d purchased the defunct company and was eager to take on the responsibility of reviving the country’s oldest craft brewery.

Similarly perhaps, Rob Sterowski of I Might Have A Glass of Beer… wrote about the sale of the last remaining family-owned Kölsch breweries, Malzmühle, to one of the others, Gaffel:

The puzzling thing about all this is that Malzmühle, just a couple of years ago, itself took over another of the remaining independent breweries, Sünner. And that is staying open – so they say at the moment, at least. So they still have a brewery where they could produce Mühlen Kölsch. Can they really buy in beer from a competitor more cheaply than they can brew it themselves? Even if Gaffel is substantially bigger than Sünner? One can only speculate that the contracts being signed commit Gaffel to supplying the Malzmühle with beer at a very favourable price.

I liked Gary‘s piece about a study by a futurist of the past, Dr. Leonard Kent of the advertising agency Needham Lewis & Broby, projecting his 1960s desire for a better beer – something that he may have to wait for a couple of decades to try:

The solitary drinking experience, as he called it, sounds oninous in our neo-prohibitionist 2025. He meant, thought, at least in part, brewers should make a higher quality product. A product reflecting romance and mystery v. the bulk “sameness” of American beer as it was then. Beer that could be enjoyed more in a wine setting, outside that of the popular image of tronged tavern consumption.

And in Pellicle, the fabulous Rachel Hendry and the fabulous Anaïs Lecoq tag teamed to tell the tale of the litre bottle of Cidre Breton from their respective points of view:

The rustic, rural nature of Cidre Breton’s style, the farmyard imagery and the simplistic label design that speaks to a small scale cider operation that no longer exists, the uncomplicated bottle shape that signals to milk and soft drinks as opposed to high end fine wine all work to put a consumer at ease. There is no trace of poshness or pretentiousness here, all are welcome. Cidre Breton is a cider from the people for the people, that extra 250ml a gesture of diplomatic goodwill. To Britain, Cidre Breton becomes an emblem of an accessible France, something attainable to most, regardless of finances and status. A franco-take on a British heritage—orchards and cider are intrinsic to rural, working class stereotypes of Britain after all—allowing us, litre by litre, to drink exactly as the French do.

That’s it for this dimmed week. Looking back, sifting through emails and posts, I had forgotten that I invited Martyn to my fantasy dinner in 2007. I suggested we have a “good thick 1700s West Country white beer as a stand alone first course” to get the conversation going. He accepted. Sad stuff. Until we meet again in a happier moment, please check out Boak and Bailey every Saturday (…as long as all their holiday fun doesn’t get in the way…) and Stan (….back again this  Monday and very nice of him to notice what I wrote). Then listen to a few of the now rarely refreshed Lew’s podcasts and get your emailed issue of Episodes of my Pub Life by David Jesudason on the (sometimes even but never) odd Fridays. And maybe The British Food History Podcast. Maybe? And Phil Mellows is at the BritishBeerBreaks. Once a month, Will Hawkes issues his London Beer City newsletter and do sign up for Katie’s wonderful newsletter, The Gulp, too.  Ben’s Beer and Badword is out there with the all the sweary Mary! And check out the Atlantic Canada Beer Blog‘s weekly roundup. There is new reading at The Glass which is going back to being a blog. Any more? We have Ontario’s own A Quick Beer featuring visits to places like… Michigan! All About Beer has given space to some trade possy podcasts and there’s also The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast with an episode just last month!. And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good but, hmm, they’ve also gone quiet this year. The rest of these are largely dead. And the long standing Beervana podcast …except they have now stood down.  As has We Are Beer People. The Share looked to be back with a revival but now its gone quiet. And the Boys Are From Märzen podcast appears suspended as does BeerEdge, too. VinePair packed in Taplines as well. All dead and gone.  There is more from the DaftAboutCraft podcast, too. Nope – that ended a year ago.   The Moon Under Water is gone – which is not surprising as the ask was $10 a month. Pete Brown’s one cost a fifth of that – but only had the one post. Such is life. Such is beer podcasting and newlettering!

The Session #144: Critique not Criticism

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Jam Packed Bundle Of Beery News Note Excitement For Mid-March 2025

Took a trip east to Gan on Monday. Yup. I was out there day-tripping as I decided a few years ago that the first work day after the clocks change is gonna be a day off from here on out. And what did I see in wonderful Gananoque aka Gan? Well, I observed the law, that’s what I did. Meaning I saw this nice municipally financed and authorized and even installed sign that says you can drink in public in a nice park with a lovely view. I’m bringing a foldy chair and a few tins next time. Because it is the Law of Gan. What else can you do in Gan on a Monday in late winter? Well, the amusements never end if we are going to be honest.*

Speaking about drinking in public, wine writer Jason Wilson wrote this about an evening out in Logroño, a small city in of Spain:

At Bar Soriano, I get grilled wild mushrooms in garlicky sauce and topped with a skewered shrimp. At Bar La Travesía, I eat amazing tortilla española topped with a spicy pepper sauce. At Bar Donosti, I order a bite-sized dish of quail egg, chorizo, and pepper called cojonudos (which means “ballsy,” which is a compliment) followed by grilled foie gras on a slice of bread. At Bar Lorenzo, I get the famed Tío Agus, a skewer of spicy grilled pork on a bun with a secret green herb sauce. At Bar Sebas, I get the pimiento relleno de carne. At Bar El Perchas, I get either pig’s ear in a spicy sauce, or a fried pig’s ear sandwich (the only two items on the menu). At Tastavin, I eat quail escabeche or rabo de toro wrapped in puff pastry. At Bar Garcia, there’s always a plate of cecina or panceta curada. All along Calle Laurel and Calle San Juan, there are endless small plates of paper-thin jamón ibérico or grilled piparra peppers or skewers of olives and tinned fish.

What he wrote about got me all Pavlovian but then – later in the article when he got to writing about writing about wine – I realized the best bit of the article didn’t really mention the wine at all. It was local simple wine that accompanied these lovely plates of tapas. He then discussed how he was asked this by a researcher: “why is most wine communication so bad?”   Go read his answer. Apply it to beer. Then ask yourself whether everyone is an actual expert.

Not unrelatedly, Eoghan provided a useful lexicon of words for being drunk that can be used in Brussels in Brusseleir, a Brabantian-Dutch dialect:

There are organisations that work to keep the language alive, and each year the non-profit Be.Brusseleir presents a “Brusseleirs van ‘t joêr” award to the best representative of the city. But it is a dying language, as native speakers either age out of the population or move outside Brussels in their retirement years. We may not be able to restore the language to its former glory, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still use it. So this weekend, instead of going to the pub drop into your local Stameneie. Not for a bière or a pintje, for a quiet Beeke. And if you stick around and have enough, you might even find yourself getting not drunk but a maybe a little bit Zat.

I quite like “Kousenband”! Never one to accept a kousenband, The Tand himself did spake this week and he spake unto ye and me of London, good and bad – including this lament:

My usual tactic here? Try the cask, pick the least bad one, then immediately wash it away with a pint of London Black. Works every time… Somewhat surprisingly, I feel, as mentioned above, you can trust the cask more in the one that isn’t called Craft, than the one that is, though that certainly wins as a pub.  (I’ll draw a veil over the appalling beer in Fullers Trinity Bell next door to Cask. You could have poached an egg in the beer and it was flat as a pancake. Just the sort of stuff that puts people off cask forever, and not at all what you expect from Fullers managed house.)

Even more disappointedly, Kendell Jones of the Washington Beer Blog shared some tough news from the hop yards of that state with the closing down of Brulotte Farms:

Brulotte Farms is one of over a dozen grower-owners who make up Yakima Chief Hops, one of the world’s premier hop suppliers. The Brulotte family has farmed hops for six generations. Today, Yakima Chief Hops announced that Brulotte Farms is closing its doors after 81 years. The family farm is located in Toppenish, just outside of Yakima. “Yakima Chief Hops expresses our heartfelt gratitude to Reggie Brulotte for her commitment and passion for growing quality hops for brewers worldwide,” said a press release from Yakima Chief Hops. “Reggie has been an industry leader throughout her career and continues to be dedicated to the hop industry. Her contributions have had a tremendous positive impact on both the hop and beer industry… 

Pete Brown posted another image of his weekly beer column in The Sunday Times and then applied some gently encouraging promotion for it on social media:

What’s wrong with mainstream? It’s a mainstream newspaper with a mainstream audience. But you know what? If I was writing a column for Craft Beer Wanker magazine, I’m not sure I’d change a single one. Sometimes, if they’re widely available, there’s a good reason for that.

Makes sense. He’s been sharing fairly newbie friendly primer level stuff so far – as it would have to be for a general audience. Perhaps at the other end of things, Pellicle‘s feature this week received high praise from David Jesudason:

This is brilliant. A fresh, journalistic approach to how a beer was ruined written in an authentic voice. Love it and you will too…

…which sorta laid on a bit of pressure, right?  Fortunately the tale of the end of the Ringwood Brewery by Imran Rahman-Jones was as good as promised, tracing and placing events in the overall arc of brewing better beer:

Alan says Peter Austin would have been “ so proud” that a cask ale brewer like Marston’s had bought the brewery he founded. After all, Marston’s had successfully kept other acquisitions running, including Wychwood, Banks’s and Jennings. My early memories of Ringwood are from after the Marston’s acquisition, and the quality was still exceptional. The decline was not immediate, but over time—Neil says the personal touch was lost in favour of a more corporate environment.  “Marston’s were more interested in selling you insurance, getting the price of your gas down and your rubbish disposal down than they were [selling] you beer,” he says.

The Guardian published a feature on Zahra Tabatabai’s Back Home Beer, an American of an Iranian background who is creating beers which reflect a samily tradition:

“My grandfather died when I was young, but my family always talked about him making beer and making wine,” said Tabatabai, 42, whose parents left Iran in order to attend university in Alabama with the intent to return home, just before the breakout of the Iranian revolution. Tabatabai’s parents ultimately settled in Georgia when she was five years old. Her Persian lager was specifically based on her family’s flavor memories. “I made a few batches of that beer, and they would give me feedback and then I’d go back and change the recipe,” she said.

The New York Times printed an interesting opinion piece this week on how one insider saw DEI initiatives failing at ABInBev:

I should have seen it coming. Many corporations were flexing their credentials in the growing diversity, equity and inclusion movement. But for me, the incident was a particularly telling example of what was going wrong with Anheuser-Busch — and an early sign that too many American corporations had forgotten who their customers were. To be clear, I believe that an employee base that has a diversity of thought — which is naturally associated with a diversity of ethnicities and backgrounds — is good for business. Different employees can better solve existing problems or identify new opportunities. But the massive corporate embrace of D.E.I. was always destined to fail, in large part because the movement was never well defined to begin with.

Some insta-grumbles about woke v. anti-woke but strikes me as this is a description of what was really playing out – and is still playing out – in heartless faceless corporate landscape. Even if it’s all fairly pathetic. Speaking of big beer, when is a beer Canadian? It’s an interesting question in these times of tariffs and retaliations:

Coors Light is an American brand. Molson Canadian is a Canadian one. But a can of either on the shelf in New Brunswick is produced in the same place: the MolsonCoors brewery in Moncton. MolsonCoors is headquartered in Chicago, but, as a publicly traded company, it has shareholders around the world.  When N.B. Liquor began taking Kentucky bourbon and California wines off the shelf in their corporate stores, brands like Coors and Budweiser remained.

Sorta similarly, from the US perspective, there is an eduction process occurring on what local means to the business of beer and other products in these tariffs times – as in this report from Colorado:

Beer prices have recently gone up. Feguson credits the increase to the price of aluminum rising. The beer vendors are spreading the cost out amongst all of their products. So, though Ferguson’s company only buys kegs, he is seeing a $5 to $10 increase on everything he buys. “As a small business, I would say a micro business, our margins are so tight anyways that it does sting. We understand the way the world works though, and I think one benefit for us is because we buy only local Colorado products,” Feguson said. The price of coffee beans has also surged since they are imported to America. However, Colorado Craft Coffee and Beer House has not seen an increase from their suppliers. Ferguson says this is because everything they buy is roasted and brewed in Colorado, so it does “soften the blow.”

Finally and perhaps by way of contrast in both scale and certainty, Jordan wrote about a beer he helped create but really he talked about a cookie or rather the greatest frikkin’ cookie in the history of humankind:

It was, at one point or another, the best selling cookie in Canada. It’s constructed similarly to the oreo, but the oatmeal biscuits have a ridged diamond pattern criss-crossing them, and a touch of honeyed sweetness balanced by a little salt. The peanut butter filling is remarkably temperature stable. It’s not hard to see the appeal. The little devils are moreish, I think mostly due to the combination of sweet and savory. Christie eventually had factories across the city, including one at the far end of the Queen Streetcar in southern Etobicoke and one on O’Connor that is now Peek Freans. The company was purchased by Nabisco and eventually by Mondelez International. The Pirate Cookie has fallen from favour, largely due to the proliferation of nut allergies in the general population. It has not yet disappeared.

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

*There was a large pike out by the hole in the ice, flopping as it dealt with the situation.  And that is the USA in the background, by the way. Wellesley Island is there on the horizon.

The Last Thursday Beery News Notes For The Suckiest Part Of The Year

We have entered a short and ugly season. False spring. Dwindly wintery. The time of dirty snow. After last week’s -20C temps, high winds and back to back blizzards we got the first sense of spring. Not the reek of dog shit thawing out of snowbanks spring. But at least +5C and even a bit of drizzle. Under five weeks to the first of April. My own pea and carrot seeds will be planted in the cold dark soil by then. Not that bit of basil. No way. I am eating that plant. Soon.

First up? First up and speaking of eating, I have been looking for an angle on long time servant of good beer Jonathan Surratt‘s blog by email about sandwiches, Bound by Buns, and this week he provided in this week’s post:

I recently had the idea to see if I could incorporate beer into each of the main components of a sandwich… I met with Jenny Pfafflin from Dovetail Brewery (we call her JP) and she and I put our heads together to discuss the beer options for this sandwich. I had a rough concept for a beer braised short rib sandwich using a beer cheese spread and we talked through the other options. JP, a brewer who is also an Advanced Cicerone, was very helpful in being a second opinion and a knowledge expert on Dovetail’s line of beers and beer flavors in general.

Now, that is just the introduction to the intro. Take some time. His weekly posts often drill down deep into the details and then wallow with you in the goodness of sammy Pr0n.

Next… what a headline: “Heineken to make beer weaker“!!! Jessica Mason reports:

From 25 February, Heineken will reduce the alcohol of its Sol beer brand to just 3.4% ABV down from from 4.2% ABV. The beer, which was originally brewed in Mexico before it was acquired by Heineken from Fomento Economico Mexicana SAB (FEMSA) in 2010 in a deal worth £4.8 billion, is now produced in Zoeerwoude in the Netherlands. According to reports via The Sun, increased cost pressures facing the sector have also pushed the decision for beer companies to make the move to bring the strength down on some beers.

That’s 23.5% weaker according to my math. Yikes. At what point is that a near beer? Speaking of weak, we have this in from Beer Insights on the serious loss of interest in the darling of a decade ago, Stone, now owned by Sapporo:

…results were driven by strong growth of Sapporo brands offsetting softer Stone trends. Indeed, early in the yr, the co recorded a $90+-mil impairment charge on its Stone biz, it acknowledged while responding to critiques about its overseas investments from a Singapore-based investor with more than 19% stake in the co. Recall, Sapporo acquired Stone for a little less than $170 mil in 2022, then invested tens of mils of $$ in US production facilities.

A $90,000,000 loss on a two year old $170,000,000 investment is quite impressive. Somebody sure ain’t worthy. Conversely, Matty C got out his pen and his writing table and wrote about the end of things for CAMRA’s What’s Brewing:

Everything is finite, and all good things must come to an end. Most people understand this, even if only subconsciously, and it’s why I think we cling to nostalgia so tightly – it helps stop us worrying about that which we ultimately cannot control: change. Nostalgia plays a huge part in what we drink and enjoy. It’s largely why Guinness is so frustratingly popular at the moment (and I say frustratingly from the perspective of someone who feels like this is a missed opportunity to get more people drinking cask beer). But this phenomenon also extends to brands like Theakston’s Old Peculier and Timothy Taylor’s Landlord, even Bass remains popular among some enthusiasts.

Speaking  of institutions… what is a hall of fame for? The already famed? Consider Jeff‘s conclusion:

Elevating the less-heralded figures who shaped American brewing is certainly a worthy effort. Using the Hall to reshape the way we think about brewing (as well as craft brewing) would be a worthy effort. But at least after an initial round of inductees, it seems like the Hall has chosen to celebrate they already celebrated. Maybe this project isn’t for me, or the public generally, and that’s fine. Industries get to define whom they celebrate. But again, looking from the outside, it seems like a missed opportunity.

There isn’t a hall. Just a website. But… if there is no actual hall, does there even have to be actual fame? Or is it for sometinhg else? Consider Stan‘s thoughts:

For the record, I provided nominations and I voted in the election. I nominated Joe Owades (cited within the post), not because of the role he played in developing light beer, but because he was a key advisor to the early giants of microbrewing (even if the beer was not made a small breweries; goodness those were confusing times) such as Boston Beer and Pete’s Wicked Ale. As you will see when you read the entire post, people like to talk about this. 

Soooo… there is the talk. But does the talk get beyond the bubble? Still, it’s a bubbly bubble for sure. Frothy even. As you consider that, we move on a bit deeper into the recent past. Boak and Bailey linked to this one on Saturday but it is too good not to record for archival posterity – a 1977 BBC documentary on the state of the UK beer industry. As Nigel Sadler wrote “a nice old film“! But it was a broadcast to a nation wide public. Not a bubble Could beer still sustain that sort of viewership now?

Well someone* is trying as Pete Brown has been granted space in the Sunday Times in England to write about beer on a regular basis. It will be interesting to see if there will be any of the analysis you would see in wine or restaurant reviews. It would be even more interesting if a writer like A.A. Gill, Brown’s predecessor in those pages, could arise in good beer. Drink was something Gill left behind with good reason.  Similarly, could good beer generate this sort of academic standard we  see with the four newly announced Masters of Wine?  Consider these qualifications:

Jit Hang Jackie Ang MW holds a DPhil in Medical Sciences from the University of Oxford and a MA in Pharmacology from the University of Cambridge, said the IMW. He is director of Cherwell Wine and Spirits in Singapore, where he also heads the High Throughput Screening group at the Experimental Drug Development Centre. His research paper was: ‘Are Universal Glasses Truly Universal? — An investigation on whether glassware shape affects perceptions of red and white table wines made from international varieties.’

A brainiac! But there are many sorts of pursuits and pleasures, aren’t there. For example, B+B shared a tiny cheery… dare I say charming… travelogue on a recent weekend trip to Germany with Ray’s mother over at their Patreon page:

In Cologne, almost 24 hours later, we fell upon glasses of Päffgen Kölsch while surrounded by people in carnival costumes – minions, pirates, sequined suits, and so on. Our hypothesis was that Ray’s mum would love Kölsch and Kölsch culture. She’s a lager drinker by default, when she drinks beer rather than whisky, and is no longer keen on pints. Sure enough, she did like this crisp, bitter, incredibly fresh beer. Well, who wouldn’t? Truthfully, it was probably being surrounded by family, and having a fuss made of her, that made the beer taste particularly good.

Sounds ideal. No? Does for me. But maybe this is your ideal pub? Not mine but I am not an elderly emo. Really. I’m not. Others have other ideals… idles… iddles…

After the King pulled a pint called Gone For A Burton, a traditional mid-strength beer brewed by Tower, brewery owner John Mills cheekily asked him: “Going to have a slurp of that, sir?” The King replied that if he was not, he was in the “wrong place”.

Less regally, Doug Veliky has been asking some questions of brewers in these troubled times and Ottawa’s own Dominion City Brewing shared a high level of detail that they had actually shared with their customers along with a few notes:

…we’ve been refining our unique value proposition and have landed on the fact that we offer a high rate of sale and greater profit per pour than our peers. We’ve made up the attachment below [Ed.: err… above…] in a bid to educate our customers about the pricing elasticity they get with our brand (and about the true cost of their macro options once all the freebies and kickbacks are counted.) It’s made the difference in keeping our business with several accounts to date and we hope to use it as part of our pitch to accounts that might not look craft-accessible. So both a shield and sword strategy.

I like it. And I like their Town & Country, too. They are also fighting the tariff threat along with other Canadian brewers. More on the Glorious and Free initiative here. Speaking of Ontario, just days before today’s election, the liquor control agency controlled by current government of “Buck A Beer” Doug Ford slapped a new tax** on beer sales in the province:

The LCBO posted information about the fee increase on its website Monday within hours of Ontario PC Leader Doug Ford unveiling a new campaign promise to scrap the province’s mandatory minimum prices for alcohol.  The increase is set to take effect on April 1. It amounts to a 4.4 per cent jump in what the LCBO calls “cost of service,” a levy that applies to all beer products — whether imported or domestic — sold at retail outlets such as The Beer Store, supermarkets, convenience stores and brewery retail outlets, as well as on beer distributed to bars and restaurants. 

And finally Pellicle picked a spot for this week’s focus where I’ve actually been – but may not no longer – as author Gene Buonaccorsi got to crawl over and under the Cambridge Brewing Company, down the road from MIT and across the river from Fenway***:

With Phil off attending to customers, I asked Will to show me the notorious barrel cellar. For years, I’d heard of this nature-defying space—a small corner of a basement where some of the industry’s most mind-bending beers fermented and matured. We exit the dining room through a door towards the back and enter an industrial white-walled staircase with faded metal handrails. He leads me down to the lowest level, where we emerge into a low ceilinged room with fluorescent lights that (at first glance) illuminate a set of dry goods storage racks and the unmistakable shining silver door of a refrigerated keg room. “It’s a bit tricky from here,” he tells me. “You have to step up but also duck so you don’t hit your head.”

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

*Others too. For example, I had no idea there was a beer focused radio station broadcasting out of Sheffield: “Ale & Radio will celebrate its milestone on April 13, following a highly successful first year broadcasting beer-focused content alongside a diverse mix of music spanning multiple genres and generations. With a global audience, the station’s mission has always been to support independent breweries, bars, pubs, and beer retailers, while uniting beer enthusiasts through a variety of engaging content. Listeners can tune in for regular beer news, travel features, festival coverage, brewery interviews, and user-submitted audio beer reviews.” Here’s their webpage with a link to the audion stream. But is Pete’s as he posted “the ONLY regular beer column to run in a UK broadsheet newspaper or magazine, first one for over 20 years” or as he blogged “I’ve joined Adrian Tierney-Jones (Daily Star) in the exclusive ranks of people who have a regular beer column in a mainstream British media outlet.“? 
**fine… yes, it’s a fee increase and not a tax…  
***…and, once upon a time, deep down within an entertaining early pandemic freakout…