It even looks like it's trying to grow cones.
There could be enough for a pint there in a month.
Tuesday, 14 August 2012
Update on the hop growing
The hop is doing surprisingly well. After the horrors of last year this is very satisfying.
It even looks like it's trying to grow cones.
There could be enough for a pint there in a month.
It even looks like it's trying to grow cones.
There could be enough for a pint there in a month.
Monday, 13 August 2012
War is the health of the state
But it's certainly not healthy for your pint.
My long fascination with beer history started with the Durden Park Beer Circle's "Old British Beers And How To Make Them". Though in the age of the internet the booklet now looks a little lacking, there's a lot going for the point they make that the First World War ended the golden age of British beer. Average beer strength dropped from around 5.2 to 3.0% ABV and pub's opening hours were cut. The horrors the war inflicted on beer still resonate today. The beer drinking culture ingrained in my soul that leads me to knock back modest strength pints until I'm pissed at 11 pm is the result of First World War restrictions on beer strength and pub opening hours.
Though after the war average beer strength recovered slightly to 3.8% ABV it never got back to what it was before. Such a hefty cut, not the mention the restrictions imposed on pub opening hours, is not something that could have passed unnoticed. Now I know that people weren't happy about weak war time "government ale" but what about afterwards, when weaker beer continued to be the norm? Surely people will have been grumbling into their pints?
Though I've long suspect this to be the case, I now have a quote that backs up my suspicions. Professor H.E. Armstrong, a Fellow of The Royal Society, friend of Horace Brown, and apparently an old curmudgeon, took a dim view of what beer (in particular Bass) was like in 1921:
"the world renowned red triangle ...must now be ashamed of being paraded before the public ...the action taken by the Government during the war ...has rendered beer little short of worthless as a drink".
I don't think he was impressed with the changes. I wonder what his views on afternoon closing were?
My long fascination with beer history started with the Durden Park Beer Circle's "Old British Beers And How To Make Them". Though in the age of the internet the booklet now looks a little lacking, there's a lot going for the point they make that the First World War ended the golden age of British beer. Average beer strength dropped from around 5.2 to 3.0% ABV and pub's opening hours were cut. The horrors the war inflicted on beer still resonate today. The beer drinking culture ingrained in my soul that leads me to knock back modest strength pints until I'm pissed at 11 pm is the result of First World War restrictions on beer strength and pub opening hours.
Though after the war average beer strength recovered slightly to 3.8% ABV it never got back to what it was before. Such a hefty cut, not the mention the restrictions imposed on pub opening hours, is not something that could have passed unnoticed. Now I know that people weren't happy about weak war time "government ale" but what about afterwards, when weaker beer continued to be the norm? Surely people will have been grumbling into their pints?
Though I've long suspect this to be the case, I now have a quote that backs up my suspicions. Professor H.E. Armstrong, a Fellow of The Royal Society, friend of Horace Brown, and apparently an old curmudgeon, took a dim view of what beer (in particular Bass) was like in 1921:
"the world renowned red triangle ...must now be ashamed of being paraded before the public ...the action taken by the Government during the war ...has rendered beer little short of worthless as a drink".
I don't think he was impressed with the changes. I wonder what his views on afternoon closing were?
Sunday, 12 August 2012
The Cricketers, Pirbright
Taking advantage of it being Summer this weekend the lovely Lisa and I set off on a cycle ride down the Basingstoke canal.
Obviously we didn't want to go too far, asby all accounts allegedly Basingstoke is a shit hole, so we detoured to Pirbright in search of some refreshment. There were a few pubs to chose from but as The Cricketers still has a big sign advertising Ind Coope Burton Ale I steered us in that direction.
I haven't been to this pub in many years having been barred in my youth. It was no fault of my own you understand, being a mass barring brought about by one of my friends making clear her exact thoughts about the woman behind the bar that had refused to serve her tap water.
Sadly Burton wasn't on, but the Pride was in good form which was some compensation. The landlord was friendly, and we liked this pub so may have to get on the bikes more often.
Obviously we didn't want to go too far, as
I haven't been to this pub in many years having been barred in my youth. It was no fault of my own you understand, being a mass barring brought about by one of my friends making clear her exact thoughts about the woman behind the bar that had refused to serve her tap water.
Sadly Burton wasn't on, but the Pride was in good form which was some compensation. The landlord was friendly, and we liked this pub so may have to get on the bikes more often.
Wednesday, 8 August 2012
Let's talk about 5X
I was at the Great British Beer Festival yesterday. Purely for professional purposes you understand. Though I did have a couple of pints when networking, and maybe a few more for research, with perhaps one or two to wash down my food and maybe one for the road, it should be clear the focus was mainly on work. Whilst I could still focus that is.
I made a mess of the travel arrangements so arrived late, but on the plus side I met noted beer historian Pete Brown at Earl's Court. His next book
will be out on November 8th, which is conveniently shortly before my birthday (hint, hint).
There was a lifetime's supply of beers lined up in the hall but I only had one beer on my tick list: Greene King 5X. A living fossil, this 12% ABV oak aged beer is normally only used for blending with another beer to make Suffolk Strong (6% ABV). It undergoes a log maturation in vats at the the brewery, like a stock ale or porter of old. I'd first read about it years ago but never even heard of Greene King letting anyone drink it unblended until quite recently.
However of late a few beer writers have managed to get hold of some, which had started to raise my hopes that I might one day blag some myself. Perhaps I thought a trip to Bury St Edmunds for the next IBD AGM would be in order? As it happened Greene King decided to make limited quantities available at the GBBF which solved my problem. I joined the queue early (which earned me three seconds of fame) and after a short scrum I had a 1/3 pint in my hand.
Whilst some have to settle for getting historic beer from bottles I was able to get some on draught. It's a hazy, mid-brown beer with a taste of sherry about it, combined with notes of sour cider and barley wine. Or "urgh, that's yuck" as the lovely Lisa put it. Personally I liked it, though 1/3 pint was enough.
Then it was back to the grindstone: networking, researching, networking, researching, networking, pork scratchings. And after that it was time to go home.
I made a mess of the travel arrangements so arrived late, but on the plus side I met noted beer historian Pete Brown at Earl's Court. His next book
will be out on November 8th, which is conveniently shortly before my birthday (hint, hint). 
There was a lifetime's supply of beers lined up in the hall but I only had one beer on my tick list: Greene King 5X. A living fossil, this 12% ABV oak aged beer is normally only used for blending with another beer to make Suffolk Strong (6% ABV). It undergoes a log maturation in vats at the the brewery, like a stock ale or porter of old. I'd first read about it years ago but never even heard of Greene King letting anyone drink it unblended until quite recently.
However of late a few beer writers have managed to get hold of some, which had started to raise my hopes that I might one day blag some myself. Perhaps I thought a trip to Bury St Edmunds for the next IBD AGM would be in order? As it happened Greene King decided to make limited quantities available at the GBBF which solved my problem. I joined the queue early (which earned me three seconds of fame) and after a short scrum I had a 1/3 pint in my hand.
Whilst some have to settle for getting historic beer from bottles I was able to get some on draught. It's a hazy, mid-brown beer with a taste of sherry about it, combined with notes of sour cider and barley wine. Or "urgh, that's yuck" as the lovely Lisa put it. Personally I liked it, though 1/3 pint was enough.
Then it was back to the grindstone: networking, researching, networking, researching, networking, pork scratchings. And after that it was time to go home.
Monday, 6 August 2012
The Oxford Companion to Beer edited by Garrett Oliver
The Oxford Companion to Beer (OCB) is an impressive looking tome from a respected publisher. However, its arrival was not greeted with universal acclaim.
Thought after a quick look noted beer historian Pete Brown called it "the most essential beer book you can buy" saying "you simply have to buy this" beer writer Martyn Cornell was not so impressed. Taking advantage of previews on Amazon he called it a "dreadful disaster" due to the "total garbage" he'd spotted.
These early salvos set the tone and gushing reviews were soon bogged down in trench warfare. Wave after wave of blog commentators went over the top in relentless attacks, leading editor Garrett Oliver to go ballistic in his Brooklyn bunker and launch an intercontinental attack on Martyn Cornell accusing him, amongst other things, of McCarthyism. Contributer Roger Protz went even further, and losing all sense of proportion compared critics to Nazi book burners.
Amongst the fog of war I couldn't see a decent in depth review between the gushing puff pieces and the pointed, but small and specific, attacks. Whatever the book turned out like I was far too curious by now not to own a copy so onto my wish list it went.
Flicking through the book my thoughts were as mixed as the reviews. The entry on Brettanomyces answered a question my research hadn't, and the entry on the aleurone was excellent. But I'd also come across a howler that had made me want to fling the book to the floor. As someone who worked with bacteria for many years I can confidently say that Staphlococcus and Clostridia are most certainly not Gram negative.
I joined the OCB wiki set up by Alan McLeod so I could point out the mistakes I'd spotted but I still wasn't quite sure what to make of the book. Was I just nit picking about minor things or was it fundamentally flawed? Garret Oliver himself had pointed out that it's impossible to have a work of this size without some mistakes, and Roger Protz said that the Oxford Companion to Wine had around 1,000 errors in the first edition. To get a general feel for the book I decided to start reading it at the beginning and read it though until I'd finished the letter A.
I had to raise an eyebrow when I saw that of the 46 people important enough in the history of beer to get an individual biography three were presidents of the USA. Some quick flicking shows that this is not because of they had any great connection to beer but simply American bias. I certainly can't think why else the fact that George Washington stopped for a pint before fleeing the British is considered sufficiently important to deserve an entry.
When I got to the meat of the book a few other things started to stand out. Most of the entries are written as if they're for an encyclopaedia, which is certainly what the book looks like. Some are written as if they're magazine articles, chatty in style and offering opinions but not very clear with the facts, and some are written as histories of the particular subject they're covering.
They quality, as well as the style, of the entries varies. Some are absolute gems, some seem a bit lacking and some are just plain wrong. I had hoped it might be possible to work out a rating system for the authors, e.g. Charles Bamforth is consistently good, Garret Oliver seems to waffle on and Horst Dornbusch I viewed with caution as he has previous form. Some entries are referenced, some aren't and some have only references to websites.
The cross referencing is equally erratic, some entries clearly link in BOLD TYPE to other related entries of interest, whereas the next entry on a similar subject may be devoid of any cross references, e.g. the entry 'American hops' includes cross references to Willamette, Nugget, Cascade and Galena but though they're mentioned in the following entry 'American hops, history' they are not cross referenced.
A major flaw in my author rating plan came to light when I followed a cross reference to an entry on 'Downy Mildew' by Keith Thomas of Brewlab, a brewing scientist I have a lot of respect for. It talked only about disease in barley, which surprised me as I know it's also an important disease in hops. A bit of googling later I found out the entry was actually about 'Powdery Mildew', an entirely different disease, caused by an entirely different organism.
At this point I realised the problems with the book couldn't be put down to individual authors, the editing was also seriously flawed. As complete entries by respected academics could be entirely erroneous mistakes could no longer be glossed over as minor matters. Despite the quality of some of the entries the OCB cannot be trusted.
Despite this the OCB won the prestigious André Simon prize. David Gleave, the person awarding it stated:
“Garrett Oliver worked with 166 contributors to compile what is the first serious reference book on beer. In addition to his contributors, he assembled an Advisory Panel to peer review each piece submitted before it was forwarded to him. The result is a book that is easy to read yet one that will remain a serious reference book for years to come.”
From my looking at the book I don't think it was even proof read, let alone peer reviewed, at least not in the sense I understand it i.e. having other experts in the field review the work submitted before publication. It may well be used as a reference book for years to come but the hit and miss quality of the entries means it cannot be used as a serious reference book.
Having said that I'm glad I've got the book. You get a lot for your money at the Amazon
price of £18.90, and even though you can't treat it as an encyclopaedia it makes a great coffee table book, full of interesting stuff, even if the information it contains needs to be treated with caution.
Thought after a quick look noted beer historian Pete Brown called it "the most essential beer book you can buy" saying "you simply have to buy this" beer writer Martyn Cornell was not so impressed. Taking advantage of previews on Amazon he called it a "dreadful disaster" due to the "total garbage" he'd spotted.
These early salvos set the tone and gushing reviews were soon bogged down in trench warfare. Wave after wave of blog commentators went over the top in relentless attacks, leading editor Garrett Oliver to go ballistic in his Brooklyn bunker and launch an intercontinental attack on Martyn Cornell accusing him, amongst other things, of McCarthyism. Contributer Roger Protz went even further, and losing all sense of proportion compared critics to Nazi book burners.
Amongst the fog of war I couldn't see a decent in depth review between the gushing puff pieces and the pointed, but small and specific, attacks. Whatever the book turned out like I was far too curious by now not to own a copy so onto my wish list it went.
Flicking through the book my thoughts were as mixed as the reviews. The entry on Brettanomyces answered a question my research hadn't, and the entry on the aleurone was excellent. But I'd also come across a howler that had made me want to fling the book to the floor. As someone who worked with bacteria for many years I can confidently say that Staphlococcus and Clostridia are most certainly not Gram negative.
I joined the OCB wiki set up by Alan McLeod so I could point out the mistakes I'd spotted but I still wasn't quite sure what to make of the book. Was I just nit picking about minor things or was it fundamentally flawed? Garret Oliver himself had pointed out that it's impossible to have a work of this size without some mistakes, and Roger Protz said that the Oxford Companion to Wine had around 1,000 errors in the first edition. To get a general feel for the book I decided to start reading it at the beginning and read it though until I'd finished the letter A.
I had to raise an eyebrow when I saw that of the 46 people important enough in the history of beer to get an individual biography three were presidents of the USA. Some quick flicking shows that this is not because of they had any great connection to beer but simply American bias. I certainly can't think why else the fact that George Washington stopped for a pint before fleeing the British is considered sufficiently important to deserve an entry.
When I got to the meat of the book a few other things started to stand out. Most of the entries are written as if they're for an encyclopaedia, which is certainly what the book looks like. Some are written as if they're magazine articles, chatty in style and offering opinions but not very clear with the facts, and some are written as histories of the particular subject they're covering.
They quality, as well as the style, of the entries varies. Some are absolute gems, some seem a bit lacking and some are just plain wrong. I had hoped it might be possible to work out a rating system for the authors, e.g. Charles Bamforth is consistently good, Garret Oliver seems to waffle on and Horst Dornbusch I viewed with caution as he has previous form. Some entries are referenced, some aren't and some have only references to websites.
The cross referencing is equally erratic, some entries clearly link in BOLD TYPE to other related entries of interest, whereas the next entry on a similar subject may be devoid of any cross references, e.g. the entry 'American hops' includes cross references to Willamette, Nugget, Cascade and Galena but though they're mentioned in the following entry 'American hops, history' they are not cross referenced.
A major flaw in my author rating plan came to light when I followed a cross reference to an entry on 'Downy Mildew' by Keith Thomas of Brewlab, a brewing scientist I have a lot of respect for. It talked only about disease in barley, which surprised me as I know it's also an important disease in hops. A bit of googling later I found out the entry was actually about 'Powdery Mildew', an entirely different disease, caused by an entirely different organism.
At this point I realised the problems with the book couldn't be put down to individual authors, the editing was also seriously flawed. As complete entries by respected academics could be entirely erroneous mistakes could no longer be glossed over as minor matters. Despite the quality of some of the entries the OCB cannot be trusted.
Despite this the OCB won the prestigious André Simon prize. David Gleave, the person awarding it stated:
“Garrett Oliver worked with 166 contributors to compile what is the first serious reference book on beer. In addition to his contributors, he assembled an Advisory Panel to peer review each piece submitted before it was forwarded to him. The result is a book that is easy to read yet one that will remain a serious reference book for years to come.”
From my looking at the book I don't think it was even proof read, let alone peer reviewed, at least not in the sense I understand it i.e. having other experts in the field review the work submitted before publication. It may well be used as a reference book for years to come but the hit and miss quality of the entries means it cannot be used as a serious reference book.
Having said that I'm glad I've got the book. You get a lot for your money at the Amazon
price of £18.90, and even though you can't treat it as an encyclopaedia it makes a great coffee table book, full of interesting stuff, even if the information it contains needs to be treated with caution.Saturday, 4 August 2012
Yorkshire! Yorkshire!
After the excitement of Glasgow it was on to Yorkshire. We were staying in Clapham in the Yorkshire Dales. We took the opportunity to visit Malham Cove, where a few sports climbers were on the rock.
Generally I feel that anyone who would bolt rock would steal sheep, but if people really want to climb on overhanging limestone I suppose they should be left to it.
We also did a tour of Ingleborough cave which was fab.
But on to the beer. Though the local pub was a tick
we weren't that taken with it, so the excitement started when I went to Leeds. I'd arranged to meet up with Ron Pattinson of Shut Up About Barclay Perkins fame. Due to terrible technological cock up I arrived late but fortunately found Ron and the delightful Delores (who even stayed briefly before taking the opportunity of a pub change to escape the beer bores). We moved on to the Leeds brewery tap, which even has it's own microbrewery.
Unlike a disturbingly large number of beer historians Ron always backs up his stuff with facts so I can now confirm that:
The next leg of our trip was in York, though we made a detour en route. First we called in at Fanny's ale house in Saltaire. We thought it was great, so it's a shame we could only stop for a swifty.
Then it was on to Beer Ritz to stock up on bottled beers. Sadly it was not an entirely joyous occasion. Despite my wide and varied musical tastes (covering Hawkwind and related bands) there wasn't half some aurally offensive racket playing in the shop.
I also felt moral outrage come upon me once more at some of the prices:
Over thirteen bloody quid for a small bottle! That was definitely overpriced, as despite my interest I didn't buy it. The history looked a little ropey too: Courage Russian Imperial Stout from an 1850 recipe of Pale, Amber and Black malt? Hmmm...not sure if that's quite right.
Then it was on to York. We'd come equipped with an excellent map from the local CAMRA branch, which gave us a whole herd of pubs to choose from.
Our favourites were the Blue Bell, with it's Edwardian interior and Rudgate Ruby Mild,
and the Last Drop Inn, which had a discount for CAMRA members.
But more important than that they were able to give us a tip off as to where we could find some proper Yorkshire pork pies. Having been horrified to find inferior grey Melton Mowbray pies in a supermarket in Settle it was a relief to be able to stock up with pies made as god intended before we headed home, which we did the next day, with ten pies safely stashed.
Generally I feel that anyone who would bolt rock would steal sheep, but if people really want to climb on overhanging limestone I suppose they should be left to it.
We also did a tour of Ingleborough cave which was fab.
But on to the beer. Though the local pub was a tick
we weren't that taken with it, so the excitement started when I went to Leeds. I'd arranged to meet up with Ron Pattinson of Shut Up About Barclay Perkins fame. Due to terrible technological cock up I arrived late but fortunately found Ron and the delightful Delores (who even stayed briefly before taking the opportunity of a pub change to escape the beer bores). We moved on to the Leeds brewery tap, which even has it's own microbrewery.Unlike a disturbingly large number of beer historians Ron always backs up his stuff with facts so I can now confirm that:
- There's some right tosh in the Oxford Companion to Beer
- Some American beer nerds really have no idea
- Cask beer is in fact best
The next leg of our trip was in York, though we made a detour en route. First we called in at Fanny's ale house in Saltaire. We thought it was great, so it's a shame we could only stop for a swifty.
Then it was on to Beer Ritz to stock up on bottled beers. Sadly it was not an entirely joyous occasion. Despite my wide and varied musical tastes (covering Hawkwind and related bands) there wasn't half some aurally offensive racket playing in the shop.
I also felt moral outrage come upon me once more at some of the prices:
Over thirteen bloody quid for a small bottle! That was definitely overpriced, as despite my interest I didn't buy it. The history looked a little ropey too: Courage Russian Imperial Stout from an 1850 recipe of Pale, Amber and Black malt? Hmmm...not sure if that's quite right.
Then it was on to York. We'd come equipped with an excellent map from the local CAMRA branch, which gave us a whole herd of pubs to choose from.
Our favourites were the Blue Bell, with it's Edwardian interior and Rudgate Ruby Mild,
and the Last Drop Inn, which had a discount for CAMRA members.
But more important than that they were able to give us a tip off as to where we could find some proper Yorkshire pork pies. Having been horrified to find inferior grey Melton Mowbray pies in a supermarket in Settle it was a relief to be able to stock up with pies made as god intended before we headed home, which we did the next day, with ten pies safely stashed.
Thursday, 2 August 2012
Getting wankered with weegies
I was up in Glasgow for a wedding recently and met up with some friends the day before for some refreshments. We left our salubrious accommodation...
(which I hope it wouldn't be too ostentatious to mention came complete with a Corby trouser press and everything).
... and got the bus into town, getting off early in time to encounter an unexpected sound of drumming.
It sounded suspiciously like a samba band to me, which risked setting off my samba related PTSD
but, you know, it all looked quite interesting
and there were certain attractions.
The big blue bloke has his own website.
We started drinking in the Horseshoe, which was a bit busy, before moving on to the Pot Still.
We thought this was a cracking pub and it started totting up the points when we scored it:
Sign: yes,
Building/decor: yes,
Beer range: yes (well, for Scotland)
Beer quality: yes,
Staff: yes,
Atmosphere: yes (they were even playing Blue Öyster Cult when we arrived)
Beard or weird: no,
Special feature: yes,
Loos: yes,
Local?: yes.
A very impressive 9 out of 10. It was only missing out on the beard or weird when the bearded barman wearing a kilt walked back in, which scored on both points if you ask me, and gave the pub a perfect 10.
I did feel this may be a little excessive but the lovely Lisa pointed out it's scientific and you can't argue with that.
I was not on best form when it came to the wedding the next day and having a friend that had come equipped with two hip flasks only helped slightly, the port was OK but one taste reminded me that whisky is still minging. When we got to the reception I was presented with a dilemma as free beer was available but it was from brewdog.
I've been boycotting them for about a year now since they spouted lies about CAMRA and slagged off the beers at the GBBF, which included one of mine.
I started with a glass of fizzy but after a brief discussion decided that I may as well drink the beer, after all brewdog wouldn't be getting any of my money. I later learned that my getting married mate had got the beer cheap from brewdog, as they've never supplied beer for a wedding and gave him a discount on condition he sends some pictures. It seems that brewdog aren't complete twats, but as I've just seen they're still trying to squeeze mileage out of telling lies about CAMRA the boycott is back on.
Once the brewdog had run out it was cans of Guinness, and that was it for me and beer in Scotland as I couldn't face the midges that no doubt lurked in the countryside so we went on to Yorkshire the next day for the rest of our holiday.
(which I hope it wouldn't be too ostentatious to mention came complete with a Corby trouser press and everything).
It sounded suspiciously like a samba band to me, which risked setting off my samba related PTSD
and there were certain attractions.
The big blue bloke has his own website.
We thought this was a cracking pub and it started totting up the points when we scored it:
Sign: yes,
Building/decor: yes,
Beer range: yes (well, for Scotland)
Beer quality: yes,
Staff: yes,
Atmosphere: yes (they were even playing Blue Öyster Cult when we arrived)
Beard or weird: no,
Special feature: yes,
Loos: yes,
Local?: yes.
A very impressive 9 out of 10. It was only missing out on the beard or weird when the bearded barman wearing a kilt walked back in, which scored on both points if you ask me, and gave the pub a perfect 10.
I did feel this may be a little excessive but the lovely Lisa pointed out it's scientific and you can't argue with that.
I was not on best form when it came to the wedding the next day and having a friend that had come equipped with two hip flasks only helped slightly, the port was OK but one taste reminded me that whisky is still minging. When we got to the reception I was presented with a dilemma as free beer was available but it was from brewdog.
I've been boycotting them for about a year now since they spouted lies about CAMRA and slagged off the beers at the GBBF, which included one of mine.
I started with a glass of fizzy but after a brief discussion decided that I may as well drink the beer, after all brewdog wouldn't be getting any of my money. I later learned that my getting married mate had got the beer cheap from brewdog, as they've never supplied beer for a wedding and gave him a discount on condition he sends some pictures. It seems that brewdog aren't complete twats, but as I've just seen they're still trying to squeeze mileage out of telling lies about CAMRA the boycott is back on.
Once the brewdog had run out it was cans of Guinness, and that was it for me and beer in Scotland as I couldn't face the midges that no doubt lurked in the countryside so we went on to Yorkshire the next day for the rest of our holiday.
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