We started watching the Ken Burns documentary on The American Revolution – which is a bit of a weird experience for someone living in a city settled by Loyalists. To be fair, regular mention is made of the experience of people enslaved in the third quarter of the 1700s as well as the fact that Indigenous nations were facing further dislocation. But the usual balance of one-third Revolutionary/Patriot, one-third Loyalist/Tory and one third just wanting the whole thing to go away doesn’t yet seem to be the guiding principle.* We’ll wait for further review after the next few episodes but seeing as we are (i) seven weeks after True Thanksgiving and (ii) a week out from “The Day before Black Friday” – aka the true start of the holiday madness – we’ll still raise a glass and wish you readers to the south a happy turkey day next week. The results of my own micro-colonial style dried bean harvest picked this very week is offered in solidarity.
Plenty of good reading this week. Let’s start a bit further back in history. Merryn gave the heads up that there was report published on the making of malt in the Paleolithic including at archaeological sites in Greece and Iraq:
The authors concluded that there was diversity and complexity of plant preparation at both sites, based upon the condition of the plant macrofossils that they found. People were processing wild pulses, nuts, grasses and cereals using several techniques, including crushing, pounding and grinding as well as soaking, steeping and mashing. Although many were made from pulses and nuts, some of the carbonised food fragments resembled charred bread-like foods or finely ground cereal meals, similar to those found at Neolithic and later prehistoric sites.
More recently – though personally it feels about as long ago – once upon a time about twenty years ago, Rogue had good representation on the shelves of Ontario’s LCBO with their reviews** being a regular topic around here. From 2004 to 2012 or so it was personal favourite, then a nation and then it was, for folk like me and Ed, a bit of a disappointment that lost my patonage. And now it is gone, as Jeff records in yet another brewery obit.
The news that Rogue had suddenly slammed shut the doors on all their pubs and breweries is growing more shocking the longer we have to consider it. As recently as last year, Rogue was still one of the largest breweries in the US—50th, according to the Brewers Association’s most recent report. It had been declining a bit in relative numbers on that list, but apparently still selling quite a bit of beer. It wasn’t a new start-up managing risky gambles, either. Rogue has been around 37 years, over three decades of them in their large brewery in Newport… These kinds of breweries don’t just close up in the dark of night. And the way the announcement was handled, with nary a word to the press and crudely-scrawled “closed” signs on the doors of their properties made it all the more surreal.
Interesting. “Crudely Scrawled” was the name of my punk ban in high school back in ’79. Little known fact.*** Chronologically speaking, Ben wrotes about the next stage in Ontario’s beer retailing history tightly following the entry of Rogue into the market – the era of the chosen of Toronto:
We – and by we I mean the brewers, the sales reps, the owners and the collective, foaming-at-the-mouth weirdos on the fringes — we beer writers and nerdy zealots with ink-stained tasting note Moleskins and Untappd obsessions — were a tribe of rabid gatekeepers. We knew what craft beer meant and, brother, if you were trying to fake it, you’d get fucked six ways to the weekend. Pretenders were roughly shown the door — given a tongue-lashing by a frothy-mouthed and petulant Jordan St John at a beer festival, thoroughly trounced in posts on that esteemed journal of record, blogTO, or – worse – eviscerated in the merciless hellscape that was bartowel. Authenticity was the only currency worth a damn, and it was guarded and fawned over like a dusty six-pack of Westvleteren purchased from Brock Shepherd when he closed Burger Bar. Many a contract brewer was sent packing, red ink on their balance sheet, a case of Hogtown Brewery glassware rattling under their arms and their tail between their legs. But every revolution devours its children. And the fever broke.
Then came fruit flavouring, then kettle sours and then it all went to fruity IPA Hell. And then… we’re here! The end. And where is here now – and what level of Hell is this now? According to Mudge, it’s Malebolge Level 3.4:
…the latest domino to fall is Fosters Lager, whose makers Heineken have announced that its strength will be reduced from 3.7% ABV to 3.4% with effect from February next year. It’s perhaps surprising to remember that it was 4.0% as recently as early 2023. Heineken claim that this is due to the drinking public demanding lower-strength beers, but in reality that is totally disingenuous, and the underlying reason is obviously the immense saving in beer duty. The British beer market was once dominated by what were regarded as “ordinary strength” session beers in the 3.6-4.0% strength range. But, over the past couple of years, since the duty cut-off at 3.4% was introduced, this entire sector has been pretty much wiped out, at least as far as keg beers are concerned. Carlsberg, Fosters, John Smith’s, Worthington, Boddingtons and Tetley have all been cut, leaving Carling as the last mass-market beer standing at 4.0%.
And in addition to the increasing weakness of the stuff, Pete asked us to consider the increasing price:
By March 2020 the average price of a pint of lager in the UK, according to the Office for National Statistics, had hit £3.75. In January 2025 it reached £4.83 and soon breached £5. Maybe those men in Stockport aren’t going to the pub any more. But what about everyone else? How much is too much for a pint? “I think we’re already through the barrier,” says Kate Nicholls, who chairs the trade organisation UKHospitality. “The £5 pint was a watershed for a lot of people. It’s different around the country, of course — it’s already more than £10 a pint at some London venues — but people everywhere are staying at home and pubs are closing. Our main competition is the sofa.”
And he shared a follow up cartoon in The Guardian on the same theme. Being a great indoorsman myself, the sofa has been a big part of my life so, yes, a night it the pub has been a rarer sort of event even for me. Drinks on top of meals while looking across the table at kids who all are card carrying drinking adults does put a chill on the thrill of a night out. Special occasions only. Miself out and about, reporting from the entertainments, Ed says “Quarts are Back!”:
I have been delighted to see the return of beer served in quart measures, albeit in plastic skiffs at concert venues. But sadly the word quart has become archaic in British English, and there was some confusion when I asked for two pints at the bar. Did I want two separate pints or two pints in one container? If we bring back the work quart this wouldn’t be a problem. The quarts were advertised by a sign behind the bar encouraging people to “Upgrade to a two pint cup”. My humble suggestion is that they could start the re-education by simply adding “(quart)” to the sign after “two pint”. I’m sure people would soon catch on, after all we’ve managed to get by a random mix of metric and imperial measurements for decades.
That’s the whole post! As he is named, so he writes. Briefly. And as with sofas, so too I am with quarts. Though it has been a few years since I pulled my 1850s pewter pot down from the shelf. In the upper Ottawa Valley of the 1990s, one could refer a night out in the pub (before there ever were any kids!) as “going pinting” which led to uproarious laughter one day when I said I was “going quarting” as a lot of plain old beers like 50 or Laurentide could be bought just over the river in Quebec at a dep by the box of six… or was it by twelves?
So quarts are back… but you know who isn’t coming back? “Billy No Mates” sure ain’t – if it’s later than 9 pm and he’s trying to get into the Alibi in the suburbs of Manchester:
In an Instagram post founder and owner Carl Peter said the policy is in place ‘for the safety of guests’ and to prevent groups being ‘mithered’ by solo drinkers and to protect them from a ‘nightmare’ should ‘something happen to them’. After then citing an example where a hopeful customer described the policy as ‘discrimination’ and a disagreement about ‘being woke’, Carl said: “Sorry mate, you’re very easily offended. Are you single? Do you mean it’s because you’re single? Is that what you think this is saying?” The clip also shows an image of the bar’s entrance policy sign, which reads: “No single entry. After 9pm, Alibi does not permit single entry. If you are with guests already inside the venue, please contact them in advance of entry. This is for the safety of all guests.”
Seems like a nice spot, a cocktails bar featuring karaoke. Sounds like a simple “no arseholes” policy to me. Conversely but also in Greater Manchester, look who they did let in… pub quiz cheats!!!
Huddled around their tables, locals poured into The Barking Dog each week to take on a pub quiz – but one thing was amiss. The same team kept winning the prize of a £30 bar tab, leaving regulars scratching their heads and some stopped turning up in protest. Then, a twist. Bosses at the pub in Urmston, Greater Manchester, said they received an anonymous tip-off and caught the team “cheating red-handed” when players were spotted whispering into their smartwatches to get answers.
Along with the barred cheats, the union sets of Marston are now wandering around and may have even gone into hiding, as Laura Hadland illustrates in her report from Glasgow:
The business experienced significant financial distress, despite its recent injection of crowdsourced funds. Gareth Young, the brewery’s founder, has confirmed that Epochal has ceased trading, as efforts over the last six months to find a brewery partner to help revive the brand, have been unsuccessful. The company from which Epochal rented their Payne Street location, Cairn Business Solutions, reclaimed the unit in April 2025, taking back the keys and claiming ownership of the goods and equipment inside – including the historic union – due to a significant accrual of unpaid rent. The union itself remains safe inside the warehouse.
Safe inside. That’s me. Man of the sofa. Which reminds me – the bumper crop this week now means I have to offer a few quick notes:
Note #1: pro-level whisky tasting.
Note #2: pro-level tariff fighting.
Note #3: “The Generosity of Beer People at the Bar“.
Note #4: “Eating and drinking in South Tyrol“.
Pellicle‘s feature this week is also about one sort of pub, the much mentioned often at the receiving end of comment – but perhaps not so fully unpacked thing, the micropub… specifically The Dodo in London operated by Lucy Do all as portrayed by Joey Leskin:
What makes a micropub? Lucy defines it clearly: “Micropubs are fiercely independent, supporting not only breweries but producers from graphic designers to crisp makers.” They have limited capacity and typically reject TVs and loud music, prizing conversation as the main form of entertainment. The forming of community is inherent and inevitable, with patrons unlikely to sit in isolated silence because—simply put—everyone is physically close. Over time, a community of ambassadors for The Dodo has emerged, calling themselves (with some irony) The Hanwell Massive. They’re easy to spot: Donning Dodo T-shirts at every beer festival, they span age, race and gender, and represent an almost cult-like following. Lucy laughs at the cult comparison, but knows it’s not that inaccurate.
A pretty attractive concept. Totally foreign to these parts. As foreign as those backstreet Tokyo ramen dives on TikTok. As foreign… as a very foreign thing.
While I am a fully signed up member of the Flag Institute,**** Boak and Bailey’s observations at Patreon about the English flag as poltical symbol in pubs was a good reminder that some foreign things are not as charming but it may be something that is undergoing change:
One of our local establishments has been flying several such flags as long as we’ve known it. Then, in around September, the management chose to take them down. Whatever was going on nationally they wanted no part of. The George on the Isle of Dogs wasn’t flying its own flag either, and The Alex in Canning Town was also unadorned. In reality, we’ve seen very little flag flying anywhere, except in the occasional outlying Bristol suburb. Even on the Isle of Dogs it seemed to be emanating from a single house with the concentration of flags reaching a bizarre intensity in and around its back yard. Presumbaly just one slightly odd person who really ought to get out more.
You want to get out? You should – and when you do you should take the advice that was a starling revelation within seven seconds of me reading the following words of Courtney Iseman at Hugging the Bar after two seconds of an intial mindless “yeah right… pfft!” reaction:
Just this past month or so, I’ve been upstate New York; in New Hope, Pennsylvania and nearby areas in New Jersey; and around New England—western to eastern Massachusetts, New Hampshire, and Portland, Maine. At 90 percent of those bars, you’re much more likely to find vanilla appearing in more than one cocktail, and an overall menu so loaded with fruit that it’s clear the alcohol is supposed to be all but hidden. As a drinks writer, it’s an important reminder of how small our scopes can get when they should be sprawling—sure, savory cocktails are absolutely a trend, but it’s important to remember it’s not what the average Joe is sipping on. As a savory cocktail lover who involuntarily gags at the mere thought of a sweet drink, I wish this trend were indeed to grow further.
Why my strong reaction? My dream of a global savory porridge industry.**** Cheddar cheese with rosemary tips mixed in a steaming bowl of Quaker Oats. Bacony Red River cereal with brie and basil. Why not? Why is this not a thing? Something to have with a savory cocktail. Something… to pair…
That’s it. Another week goes by. As you contemplate my unfortunate sharing of thoughts on the Loyalists, sofa dwellers, flag collecting and savory oats,**** please also check out, Boak and Bailey on this and every Saturday and then sign up for their entertaining footnotes, too. Look out for Stan when he feels the urge now that he’s retired from Monday slot… maybe … maybe not. Then listen to a few of Lew’s podcasts and get your emailed issue of Episodes of my Pub Life by David Jesudason on certain Fridays. And Phil Mellows is at the BritishBeerBreaks. Once a month, as noted, Will Hawkes issues his London Beer City newsletter and do sign up for Katie’s wonderful self-governing totes autonomous website featuring The Gulp, too. Ben’s Beer and Badword has returned from his break since April so you can embrace the sweary Mary! There is reading at The Glass which is going back to being a blog. Any more? We have Ontario’s own A Quick Beer and All About Beer is still offering a range of podcasts – and there’s also Mike Seay’s The Perfect Pour. Plus follow the venerable Full Pint podcast! And there’s the Craft Beer Channel on Youtube. Check out the archives of the Beer Ladies Podcast. That’s quite good and after a break they may well be are back every month!
*One of my American cousins is making fun of me for this position.
**Remember reviews? Like “the ten imperial stouts I had this weekend“? Lordy!
***Because the logo was so hard to read! Total lie. Totes fibafibironies.
****Neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerd!!!
