The general consensus seems to be that if marketing annoys you don't buy the product. Pretty straight forward you'd have thought. But I remember reading on Zak Avery's blog that when it comes to Brewdog resistance is useless.
So I decided to test this hypothesis when I was in Sainsbury's:
I ended up doing some deliveries to a beer festival today. As I may have mentioned I have had some problems with delivering beer before.
Following google map instructions through an area of South London I've never been to did not go entirely smoothly, and by the time I'd arrived I wasn't quite on my 19th nervous breakdown but it didn't feel far off. When I rang the bell on the back of the hall I was delivering to I was fully expecting to get no response, and preparing to wander round the front and see if I could find someone who knew what I should do with the beer but not expecting much luck. My worries were entirely misplaced though. Ringing the bell was like disturbing an ants nest.
After a short delay people came scurrying out, already equipped with proper cask trucks, and the firkins were whizzed off to the main hall, where they were immediately covered with a damp cloth to help keep them cool. Whilst waiting to get the paper work sorted I looked around to see volunteers scurrying around all over getting the 17th Croydon & Sutton Real Ale & Cider Festival ready. It lifted my spirits to see these enthusiasts giving up their free time just to promote, encourage, and of course partake, in the drinking of quality cask beer.
So hurrah for CAMRA, a great bunch of people.
The Lovely Lisa and I spent the last week in the nether regions of Wasdale. The small village has two pubs, one with a brewery, and a hotel bar. But no shop. With priorities like that it sounded just the place for us.
Our first bit of beer excitement happened en route when we called in at the Brown Cow Inn for a livener. There on the bar, calling to me, was a beer from Stringers, the renewably powered pro-situ brewery. At a modest 3.5% ABV Dark Country was a delight to drink with a fruity taste but not sweet or harsh in taste despite the black colour. I could have had a few more of these but for the fact I was driving.
We were staying at Woodhow Farm, which at one point seems to have tried rebranding itself as The Cumbrian Goat Experience. I think it would be fair to say has not been a massive success.
Unusual tourist attractions do sometimes take off, like the nearby Sellafield nuclear power station for example, but it seems the masses aren't flocking to Cumbria to see goats.
The nearby pubs were busy though, and we didn't waste much time getting ourselves down to The Strands. Their 3.8% session bitter 'Errmmm' was a delight on the first night, with I thought a hint of chocolate malt and some citrus flavoured hops. The owner refused to discuss such matters with me so this is only speculation. I wasn't quite as taken with the slightly stronger 'low flyer', but when we returned later in the week I thought the opposite. Such is life with cask beer. There was good food here too, and one night Lisa reckoned the guy behind the bar had been on telly with noted mountaineering expert Julia Bradbury, and I thought the guy he was chatting to sounded like the bloke off Gardeners' Question Time.
The other pubs in the village weren't as good. The Screes was a Robinson's pub and I'm not very fond of their beers, particularly when they're on the turn, and the hotel bar was very plush but only had something dull by Yate's on.
The Wasdale Head Inn at the other end of the valley was our other main haunt. Funny how all the routes off the mountains seemed to lead to its door. It was once home to the Great Gable brewery but that's now gone elsewhere, along with the beers. Some of the replacements were Grasmore Dark Ale and Loweswater Gold, favourites of ours from Cumbrian Legends, so we managed to wash away our disappointment.
By extending our stay by a day at the climbing hut at Brackenclose we were able to stick around for the Wasdale Head Shepherds meet and Show.
There was a fell race a mate of ours was entering, and that was only one of the many attractions. There were lots of sheep too obviously, and some goats, but by that point I think we'd experienced enough of them, and you could cut the air with a knife the tension was so great during the walking stick judging.
Once our mate was safely down it was back to the Wasdale Head Inn. The barman from the Strands and his mate were there, and I found out that the guy who sounded like the bloke off Gardeners Question Time was in fact Eric Robson, the presenter of Gardeners Question Time and president of the Wainwright society. Which is interesting in that I could recognise his voice heard briefly in a pub, but slightly embarrassing as my friend knew who he was immediately. At least I know who Julia Bradbury is!
After revealing myself to be a total lightweight when it comes to handling firkins I needed something to restore my credibility as a brewer. Fortunately the very thing came along the next day. No, I haven't won a competition or some award. Mere baubles that I'm sure are decided on by uninformed punters or jealous rivals. Well, until I win one that is.
Reading the blogs of my fellow brewers I've realised that the thing with most brewing cred is having a bloody long day at work. Stuart Howe regularly puts in 70 hour days and Pete Brissenden often gets up before he's gone to bed so he can get to work.
Much to my delight a late malt delivery lead to me only mashing in at lunch time yesterday so I ended up getting home 14 hours after I'd set off for work. Now I know this won't set any records but I'm sincerely hoping it's something I can build upon.
I dropped off some beers at my nearest decent pub after work tonight. Arriving in the pissing rain I manhandled the firkins across the car park, down the slide and into the cellar. I must admit I found it a bit of a struggle. Sticking my foot in the deep puddle at the bottom of the slide did not add to the experience.
It got me wondering how do people manage with bigger barrels? Though a full firkin weighs around 50 kg it's still only a quarter barrel. Kilderkins (half barrels) are still in common use and I've heard of some breweries that still use full sized barrels.
Of course back in the day they were made of sterner stuff and hogsheads (barrel and a half) were in common use. These must have been around 300 kg (47 stone). Makes me feel faint just thinking about it.
It's basically a rehash of the Arrogant Bastard Ale inspired blurb found on the bottle. Not being as decisive as the lovely Lisa I found it amusing the first time I read it, but like a lot of brewdog stuff it does grate a bit now.
I suppose the problem is that if you're going to act like arrogant bastards then people will think you're twats.
Does it help with sales? As brewdog are selling the stuff as fast as they can make it I guess it does, but I don't think Lisa will be buying any in a hurry.
