Brew Britannia - The Strange Rebirth of British Beer

This book has a bizarre effect on me that some pubs have – it makes me nostalgic for a time I wasn’t around in. In some cases, it’s also about things I do remember but was too young to experience like the Firkin pub chain started by David Bruce in chapter seven. I was old enough but unaware of the origins of Thornbridge. I was ignorant of the art of publicity as honed by Brewdog. This volume could easily be enjoyed by those who have no interest in beer as it charts a soap opera full of characters and intrigue. 

It’s unusual to hear about the humans rather than the beer at the centre of the changes that took place from the 1970s. This book isn’t partisan and has no ulterior motive. It doesn’t try and sell the benefits of anything traditional, real or craft over anything else. It’s about the journalism and what happened, the people that got involved and their recollections. For example, Watney’s Red Barrel is notorious in the vocal history of CAMRA. Ted Handel was in charge of Watney’s public affairs group but is fondly remembered by those that knew him. It’s refreshing that despite the dubious beer, he isn’t depicted as a tyrant. Tracking down some of the cast from the 1970’s, there’s often a feeling of a hangover from the night before - times when the rebels might have gone too far or been over-exploitative in hindsight. Boak and Bailey have tried to interview as many of the cast as possible to present a balanced account of the inception of CAMRA but the book is about much more than that. 

My favourite chapter is chapter eight: Taste the Difference because I read and write about beer’s feel, its aroma and its taste. This evidently used to be nobody’s passion. To the modern beer geek it’s quite disheartening to find that this most elemental attribute of beer – though it can verge on pretension - was until recently completely neglected. Pioneering brewer Sean Franklin relates that early descriptions of American hops were said to have a “cat’s pee quality”. Even worse, a technical journal described the Cascade hop’s aroma as mild “American!” The characteristics I take for granted from hops and the different malts roasted to varying degrees and the current craze for fermentation be it wild, with Brett yeast, Saison yeast etc were all completely ignored. Taste and aroma didn’t seem to register at all until recently. It seems people (including writers on the subject) were indifferent to the taste of beer. I found this fascinating.

This book would be invaluable to a non-British audience as it tracks the parallel histories of “real ale” and “craft beer” in Britain. It explains CAMRA’s amazing ascent but also the next generation’s attempts to distance itself from what was then seen as dogma. In many ways, it was superseded by its own success. The two terms – real ale and craft beer - though compatible (the former under the latter) still grate among many people and there is finally a concise history that explains the origins of this crepitus in Britain

There’s a poignant picture of the remaining members of the Society for the Preservation of Beers from the Wood and its 331 (mostly absent) members. It predates CAMRA and I wonder whether it might be prescient for the future of real ale fundamentalists. It illustrates the isolation of a faith over one type of beer and storage/dispense method being innately superior to all others. It’s the final chapter and I read it in sepia with plodding piano notes in the background.

Some badly needed visuals come in at the end to describe things too detailed for words. There’s the Kelham Island Brewery family tree, a chronological list of breweries before the modern boom, acres of notes, a recommended bibliography and a hard working index. My only quibble with this work is with the grainy illustrations. They look like they took some graft to find but their production doesn’t live up to the work and quality that went into the text.

The book ends as beer starts to fulfil its potential, diversify (through breweries such as the Wild Beer Co) and come into the mainstream. Images and demographics change and branding becomes artwork. I hope Jessica and Ray write a follow-up to this book documenting what came after but I suspect it would now have to be in 5 or 10 - year volumes as it’s now kicking off everywhere and at once. "Yeah, people are gonna want to know........how it all went down" – said one of the cast of the sci-fi film Cloverfield but the quote comes to me as I look back through Brew Britannia. Jessica Boak and Ray Bailey have written an objective and thoroughly researched history.

Craft Beer Co Vertical Tasting

Well into winter's rain and chill, I went for a meander through London. My walk started out from Blackfriars Station from where I visited Bermondsey. From Druid Street I backtracked and traipsed all along the South Bank of the Thames to Lambeth Bridge. I was buffeted by placards and flags from  demonstrators returning from an environmental protest. I crossed north into Pimlico and soon into the warm welcoming arms of The Cask and Kitchen. There were two versions of an American Brown Ale on. Seeing similar takes of the same style by two reputable breweries, I realised it was fate; it was time for a vertical tasting. If anyone's had the misfortune to imbibe our own homegrown Newkie Brown recently, it comes as a shock: No malt depth - no hop dimension - no body! There's just a rice paper sweetness and the stench of wet cardboard followed by a vaguely Cola-like belch. The Americans on the other hand have treated the style with respect. The prefix American rather than British is much more comforting when attached to Brown Ale. Hopefully things are changing.

Rockhead (cask - 6 ABV) - Dark Star Brewery

Rockhead has a deep walnut brown hue but is still perfectly transparent. It has a soft beige froth which imparts some light chocolate dusting powder on the aroma. First sip is clammy verging on sticky and reminds me of the consistency of the thick cream in a chocolate eclair but has none of the sickly sweetness. It hones to a sharp ground coffee/black chocolate edge. It's this bitterness that gradually echoes across the palate but the alcohol buoys it comfortably.

The Stooge (cask - 4 ABV) - Magic Rock Brewing

The stooge is hazelnut brown with a milky lily white head. I can't detect any aroma at this point. I drink it and it's the fruity hoppiness that dominates. It's a bit like tart berries and puts me in mind of hops like Bramling Cross and Mosaic. There is a darker coffee backdrop to it, though. I think it's coming from burnt malt. Spiritually, it's like a dry bitter with an added roasted hit and it leaves a scorched taste on the roof of the mouth. A beautiful balance - each sip seems more colourful and floral than the last.

Out of the two American Browns, The Stooge wins it for me. I leave The Cask and Kitchen and continue my meander through Victoria, around St James' Park, across Admiralty Arch, through Chandos Place (fellow beer geeks will know why), across Covent Garden and up Endell Street. Soaked, I cross dripping over the threshold of The Craft Beer Co Covent Garden. I need something black for my constitution and guess what - an opportunity for a second vertical tasting arises!

Anastasia's Exile Stout (cask - 5 ABV) - Ascot Ales

Anastasia's Exile Stout is black and impervious to the light. It's got a light coffee sponge head. The smell of chocolate cake oozes off this. When you open the sluice (I mean the upper one), the taste has a cocoa edge but is more of dark berries - blackcurrant, black cherry and blueberry. The roasted malt provides a coffee dreg backwash. There's a creamy malty dimension like porridge oats but also a powdery mouthfeel.

Stouter Stout (cask - 4.7 ABV) - Manchester Marble Brewery

The stouter stout is black too but with crimson at the edges and more of a grey head than brown. I inhale a sweet aroma like demerera sugar. This beer is much more carbonated than the Exile Stout. There's a charred meat/dandelion taste to it that makes it slightly acrid. Something about roling it around the tongue also reminds me of a dry red wine like Merlot. A dry coffee bitterness clings to the palate. 

Both stouts are well crafted ales but my favourite out of the blacks tonight was the Exile Stout. I'm fickle, though. Another time, another place and another mood and I might have gone the other way on each tasting.

Craft Beer Company EC3

                                   

Yesterday, the latest in a successful pub chain opened to the public right in the centre of London’s financial district. It’s in the shadow of Norman Foster’s gherkin skyscraper. The gleaming structure seems to grow as the darkness comes on. These are my thoughts. I’ve incongruously inserted my biased tasting notes from 4 beers in the text too.

The Craft Beer Company has come a long way since 2009. I went to its original venue - the Cask & Kitchen in Pimlico in the same year and recall 4 or 5 beer engines (I remember I had a pint of Titanic Brewery’s Red Ensign). The venue has gained enormous strength. It now boasts 10 beer engines and 15 craft taps as well as a portfolio of bottles. It proceeded to expand to premises in Farringdon, Brixton, Clapham, Islington, Brighton, Covent Garden and now St Mary Axe in east London.

I associate this part of London (despite the tragic background of St Mary Axe) with one particular drink: Champagne. It’s all about the financial markets and it makes me think of a 1980s film poster starring Michael J Fox “The Secret To My Success”. He’s sitting on a Champagne fountain over the Big Apple. Over the past decade, Champagne - or fortified wine - has come within the grasp of the traditional Special Brew drinker and lost its lustre. That void has been filled by beer (which incidentally has more than filled Champagne's original price bracket). The Craft Beer Company has a £65 bottle option and I wonder whether that might meet its nexus here under the Gherkin.

When I visit one of the Craft Beer Companies I have three potential ways of drinking: By brewery, by style or by opposition. I'll explain: the cask beer engines often display a new brewery’s whole output in one go. You can taste all their beers to see their own interpretations on styles - almost as good as visiting the brewery itself! The second choice reflects the number of beers on offer. I could, if I wanted, drink just stout and slake my thirst from cask, keg and bottle and experience the benefits of all three dispense methods. The third option is the opposite of the last choice - vary your choice wildly. Go from porter to Saison to bitter to wheat beer to IPA to brett to milk stout to fruit sour. The last option is the one I always take to give my taste buds a comprehensive rogering. I also find that it makes a style’s attributes shout louder as they’re in contrast to the last beer.

Siren Craft Brewery: Baby Wheel (cask 7.1)

My first half in the new Craft Beer. It’s a beer that gave me pause for concern as it seemed to pour cloudy. This fear was banished within 20 seconds as it glowed clear bright. It’s of a blazing orange. It has a deep needy orange peel bite to it. The ingredients (unlike most modern IPAs taking their cue from the US or NZ) are all British - well, almost.

One of my favourite things about the Craft Beer Company chain is I often overhear people at the bar. They seem worried as they scan the array of beers like unknown insignia on an alien console. Nothing is familiar. I hear the question “do you have anything like Guinness/Stella/Strongbow (delete as appropriate)?" and in my mind I imagine a new journey. Somebody opening their eyes to good beer for the first time and becoming more critical towards mass marketed booze. 

The prices here seem to reflect the prices in the other Craft Beer Co venues. It also has a strong WIFI connection particularly in relation to its cousin in Covent Garden.

On its maiden day, the following breweries were represented on cask and keg: Kent (they make the house pale ale), Burning Sky, Dark Star, Siren Craft, Fyne Ales, Acorn, Harbour, Rothaus, Thornbridge, Kernel, Partizan, Galway Bay, Beavertown, Five Points, Orbit Beers, Pressure Drop, Brixton, J.Wakefield (a new one for me), Beer Here, Against the Grain and Prairie Artisan Ales. There was also Lilley’s Cider.

Orbit Beers: Peel (key keg 4.3)

This is based on a Belgian blonde ale and brewed beneath a railway arch in Kennington. It has a musty straw & lemon aroma and is the colour of light lemon curd. It tastes stronger and more alcoholic than it actually is. Vapour from its coolness actually deflects off your face. Grapefruit edge. The mouthfeel has a deep malt like chewed corn on the cob.

The ground floor space is wood floored and panel-ceilinged with small wooden tables and stools. Ornamental pillars add to the class. The windows reach all the way up to the roof. The floor would be a sun trap were it not for the fact that the building’s situated between skyscrapers. The bar is quite wide but easily engulfed by an end-of-work crowd. There’s little space between queuing at the bar and backing into the furniture. The downstairs lounge is equally glamorous but quieter. The floor and ceiling match the ground floor and all the seating - chairs, settees and stools - are made for comfort. It’s better lit and better proportioned than the downstairs lounge in Covent Garden. Brewerania adorns the walls in the form of mirrors from Bass, Allsop, Worthingtons, Ushers and others. In keeping with other Craft Beer venues, the toilets are vintage vertical lever Crapper TM (or at least the gents is). 

Beer Here (from Denmark):  Dirty Kitty (keg 4.7)

This beer is a similar red to the leather on the furniture here. It has a milky lacing. There’s an aroma of strawberries and red liquorice strings. It’s really fruity - quite plummy but without the tartness associated with that fruit. Well carbonated & refreshing.

This new venue has offered something unthought of: a draw towards the financial sector of London and the weird thing is that the majority of punters here yesterday were in fact beer geeks like myself. There were shirts, suits and braces but they were outdone by T-shirted bellies and facial hair.

Fyne Ales: Lemorangue Golden Stout (cask 4.2)

Completely clear pale gold beer. It smells like a malty chocolate stout. It has a smooth creamy mouthfeel. On the palate it has limes and cocoa powder. It’s fluffy and forgiving.

I had the fortune to speak to Tom - the guy in charge of beer for the company (he did mention his actual job title - I forgot it). He divulged that the Burning Sky Plateau was about to run dry. It was a firkin - 72 pints. It had only been drawn since just before midday that day and I was there just five hours later. I looked around. The most popular tipple seemed to be pints of pale ale or lager. I heard a bizarre question  by a man overwhelmed by choice: do you have a weak lager? This question incurred brain storming from the newly trained staff. Beer is a great equaliser. I noticed that whether the clientele were travelling beer geeks or the local financial services workforce, it all boils down to the same: You move along apologising for your elbows, find your friends and session beers. Nothing has changed.

Book Review - Strange Tales of Ale by Martyn Cornell

Strange Tales of Ale has no index or glossary but there isn’t really any need. The title of each section tells you everything about the content and the text states all references and sources. It would make looking for something quick work.

Martin Cornell writes concisely and economically. Each section is a different topic related to beer and the content stays within the scope of that topic. It draws neatly to a close when all investigative avenues have been followed. He goes through sources, puts hypotheses up to the light, finds holes in arguments and hunts down anachronism with the logic of a detective and the subtlety of a rugby quarterback. It’s about the facts not the nostalgia.

It’s both a light book and a heavy book: It’s slim and weightless in its hardback format but heavy in detail. If like me you have a line of the more visually oriented tomes of beer & glasswork porn on your bookshelf, than this diminutive but complete book will serve as a sober counterbalance. Reading it is like sipping a heavy bodied beer - the photogenic coffee table volumes (though I love them) are the froth and refraction.

Readers interested in etymology, food history, journalism and the classical world will all be sated by the breadth of research in this book. I take in a new fact roughly once each written line. This is a book that could be quoted in court. Like nature, he seems to abhor a vacuum and you won’t find text squeezed into the centre surrounded by wide margins or other areas of empty white. Also, like nature he’s a force. I can imagine The British Library looking like a tornado’s swept through it after he’s completed his research. This book is 99.9% content without waste. The tiny remainder represents quick little asides to the reader.

Some sections are just several pages long but reflect exactly how much can be said about the issue. One of my favourites for example, is about the origins of binge drinking as a term. I’ve rarely read something so short (just over 2.5 pages) that has divulged so much information with such clarity and this is Mr Cornell’s strength. 

A lengthier section on words for beer is proof of a passion for uprooting every available resource to get to the bottom of what might be an unanswerable question, in this case - where does the word beer come from? Early in the text words for beer in Europe are rounded up into four pens - cervesa, bier, pivo and ale. I had a moment of rising smugness as I knew the word in Georgian was different and envisaged getting in touch with the author to share this. This vainglory was quickly dashed when he came to that exact word and proceeded casually to teach me a history of the Alans (you’ll have to buy the book), of Georgia and its vocabulary before moving along with his enquiries. I was both deflated and in awe.

We can read about subjects that reach into modern times (see binge drinking), beer during the war, pubs in Victorian times and beer right back to antiquity. This would be an ideal guidebook for a time traveller - light enough not to add weight to the rucksack and invaluable in knowing what to order from the bar. I love picking it up, slaking my thirst for now and putting it down for later. I recommend this book and know that I’ll keep going back to it to make sure I’m repeating the facts rather than the myths.

Mondo Brewing Co

Yesterday was a perfect autumnal day to go and seek out a new brewery. By all accounts, Mondo has opened with a statement of intent boasting 15 taps! 13 were available on Sunday as Australia beat Argentina at rugby in the background (not actually in the brewery itself but on the flat screen tv).

I usually get lost tracking down a new brewery but Mondo could clearly be seen from a distance. The logo has been emblazoned on the side of the building. This brewery has started with one of the highest brewing capacities I’ve known from a start-up - 27 hectolitres. The gleaming coppers are housed adjacent to the taproom. Mondo also buys whole grain for the malt - not common among the capital’s breweries. All its beers are served via standard keg or in bottle.

The beer styles reflect an entire planet hence the name - Mondo. Up until quite recently, new breweries would open up with a tiny core range - a bitter, a stout and a pale ale. IPAs started gate crashing and muscling in to make the mandatory line-up. Then came the resurgence of porters fostering nervous looks from the stouts. Then there was rye, then there were sours, then the walls fell away.

Brewing is the best it’s ever been in this country as increasingly, there are no restrictions in what the beer should be. This brewery has London’s whole back catalogue behind it. It’s a marker to where brewing has got to. I don’t believe a business like this could even have been contemplated a couple of years ago.

In the 13 beer salute, there were pale ales, American brown ales, an Alt, a smoked coconut porter, a steam lager, a Maibock, A Blackberry Berliner Weisse, a rye ale, an American IPA and a Belgian style Dubbel.

I had the privilege of trying a few:

Coco Loco (ABV 6):

The white flesh of coconuts really give this porter character. I can almost feel the gnashing of it as it gives up its sweet tuber juices. It refreshes what's generally a dark roast sipping beer.

Berry White (ABV 4.%):

A blackberry Berliner Weisse - a slightly opaque beer (though much clearer than the style might imply). Your tongue licks a sticky blackberry compote from the lips. Then it dives into a deep fruity but astringent Berliner Weisse with a zingy lemony dry finish.

Alt Dusseldorf Ale (ABV 4.8):

Fusty aroma like varnish or cherryade. Salty grainy friction to the mouthfeel. Generous malt dimension verging on caramel or brandy. It tastes matured. It's a beer you can roll around your tongue.

Maibock Strong Lager (ABV 7.2):

Tangerine orange with a tight lily head. Honey/vanilla/peach aroma on a gentle body. It completely belies its strength. Lemon drizzle cake/vanilla sponge malt pillow. It's mellow and smoothed out everywhere like clean linen.

Poppa Cap American Pils (ABV 6):

Clear golden yellow. Notes of banana, grass and vanilla. Smooth & malty with a visible carbonation that stays gentle on the palate. It's peachy and as clear as crystal.

Peckham Rye (ABV 6.6):

dark orange ale with a pale swirling hop oil constellation. Slightly cloudy (or quite dark in the taproom). Elastic & gingerloafy body & taste. Full of dark Christmas spices. Dark berries ferment on the tongue.

I purchased a glass which I put in my rucksack which I immediately knocked off the stool and it smashed. The second glass made it alive back to St Albans with me. I urge everybody to visit Mondo Brewing. Great guys. Great beer.

Fullers Vintage Ale 2011

                  

The St Albans Beer & Cider Festival 2015. The choice and quality of beer continues to evolve. Along with a handful of Fullers regulars, the 2015 Vintage was on cask at the Main Bar. I had a half and rolled it around the tongue. This feat was done early on the first day before the cask was sucked dry. As the days wore on, I ticked off beers from across Britain. With my guide full of little stars, the sun began to set on the festival and with my remaining coins I decided to get some bottle conditioned beer to take home.

In the programme it was listed as Fullers 2013 vintage ale going for a fiver. Imagine my delight when I went there and was informed by way of apology that the bottles being flogged were in fact Fullers vintage 2011! An extra two years of condition! I love the Fullers vintage ale range but don’t think any of them strays far from the beaten track. Fortunately, it’s a track I love.

2011 certainly was a vintage year - the year of the riots across Britain following Mark Duggan’s shooting, the Japanese earthquake & nuclear meltdown at Fukushima, the gory demise of Gaddafi - surrounded by the Libyans formerly under his boot. On a lighter note though, it was also the year of the 2011 Vintage Ale (the brewer’s 15th vintage) brewed with malt from Warminster malting from the Neston Park Estate in Wiltshire. The cultivation was started by Sir James Fuller. The beer includes Goldings, First Gold and Sovereign hops.

Once I got home I realised with regret that my Fullers balloon glass was buried in the loft. I ascended in the darkness but found the feat too difficult. Only total sobriety could guarantee that the glass - if I found it at all - wouldn’t get smashed on the descent. I settled for Meantime’s version of the same glass. Fullers is also a London brewery "in a glass of its own". 

Hitting the belly of the glass, it’s a dark cherry red in colour. The hue and glow remind me of red liquorice strings. A vanilla mocha top builds up. Even from an extended arm’s length I can smell brandy and pumpernickel bread. At point blank, the aroma is of warm mulled cognac if such a thing exists. It’s powerful, almost a forcefield you have to penetrate to get to the rich swirling liquid. The mouthfeel's so smooth & malty it could be creamed quaker oats. There are tastes of ginger loaf, red grapes and redcurrant on the palate. The body is like wholemeal bread baked until the air bubbles in the dough are an inch in width. It leaves a dry aftertaste and a comforting alcoholic warmth.

10 telltale signs you're at a CAMRA beer festival:

The following list has been compiled with lots of love:

1 - You realise the only difference between a fat bloke aimlessly wandering around with a pint in his hand and a CAMRA steward is the donning of a fluorescent bib.

2 - Hipsters weren't the first to display well cultivated facial hair in public. CAMRA members have a 40 year lead on the Gandalf look. They all dye it white.

3 - It isn't important to worry about your BMI. Whatever your size you are you’ll be skinny in the local CAMRA crowd. Just let it all hang out.

4 - You realise that when beer is concerned, a man weighing 22 stones can develop superpowers that enable him to scale 3 tiers of racking to tap a cask on the top layer.

5 - It doesn’t matter how drunk you get, you won’t be as pastellated as the folk behind the bar or the patrolling stewards.

6 - There’s a raffle going which includes the glasses you got rid of from the last few beer festivals.

7 - Some of the casks have already run out before any member of the public has had a chance to sample them.

8 - You can turn up in the clothes you slept in.

9 - You order a half pint and are rewarded with roughly 600ml of liquid.

10 - Whichever brewery has the town name in the title wins beer of the festival.

Did I miss any out? CAMRA beer festivals rule!