Two lips in Amsterdam

My two lips have recently been spending time in Amsterdam clamped around glasses of Brettanomyces brewed beer. A "wild yeast" beer festival was being held and two of my beers were there.

Three bars and an off licence were hosting the festival, all within a handy short walking distance. In fact being the stuff of epics the distances were shorter than what we're normally used to which lead to us overshooting and getting temporarily misplaced on more than one occasion.

Our first port of call was the Prael, a large bar complete with its own brewery. Each beer was named after a Dutch crooner and I can't for the life of me remember what any were called, which is probably for the best.

The next venue we checked out was the Bierkoning, an off licence with a fantastic range of beers. In fact it was a bit overwhelming. Particularly as we'd flown with hand luggage only so couldn't take any back! Lambic legend Frank Boon was there doing a tasting when we arrived and I have to say I was mightily impressed with his wares. Traditionally made, but not as acidic as Cantillon, his geuze was refreshing and his fruit beers were neither sour nor syrupy. Both went down a treat. 

The event I was most looking forward to, Ron Pattinson talking about Brettanomyces in British brewing, was later that day at the Prael.

Imperial Russian Stout, Stock Ales and India Pale Ales were all covered, complete with relevant beer to taste, my own Vintage Ale making its first public appearance (complete with new name and increased ABV) as the stock ale.

We went for a Chinese with Ron and the delightful Dolores after, but the beer was Heineken so I'll say no more.

Saturday was a time for us to wander round Amsterdam, it's a lovely looking city, canals, historic buildings, cyclists and trams itching to run into you. What more could you want? Actually we could have done without the dangers of crossing roads. Not only do they drive on the wrong side but we could never work out what were the cycle lanes or where would cars come from, and that's not to mention how trams can creep up on you at a frightening rate. Having been chatting to someone in a Subhumans T-shirt the night before the song "I don't wanna die" did tend to pop into my head whenever we needed to cross a road.

Eventually our wandering took us to Ron and Dolores', where I got a chance to admire Ron's beer book collection, and we got taste a fantastic selection of historically based beers complete with complementary nibbles. Gose and grodziskie were just the warm up before we moved throughout time and space in the world of beer, though the definitely seemed to be an upward trend as far as the ABV went. I seem to recall an Adambier was my favourite, but then I do have a soft spot for the Adamites.

Sadly we couldn't stay all day as I was due on In de Wilderman. Fortunately it turned out to be a "meet and greet" so I didn't have to do a talk, and just chatted to beer bods for an hour or so which was all good fun. Amongst the people there were someone else who'd come over from England, and some friendly Dutch brewers.

The Wilderman was my favourite bar of the trip, having the feel of a pub about it, but in our slightly befuddled state we forgot to get any food though and by the time we left it was too late. Not that we couldn't have bought on the way home, it was because the mobs of shouting drunk stag parties had filled the street and we really just wanted to get back as soon as we could.

The emergency bag of peanuts had to do us for dinner, well that and all the liquid bread I suppose. The morning was much more civilised, with a leisurely roof top breakfast and copious quantities of caffeine.

 

 

We had time for more wandering before we headed home and took a boat trip round the canals and looked into what bars we could find. Unfortunately despite Amsterdam being a cosmopolitan metropolis many bar owners persist in spending Sunday afternoons enjoying conjugal relations with close relatives rather than selling beer so the choice was more limited than we'd hoped. We did our best but really need to make a return trip. As ever more research is necessary.

The stuff of epics

We successfully completed our longest pub crawl last week. Three pubs over three days meant it wasn't a massively boozy affair, but hey, there was some great scenery.

Starting from Great Langdale the first point we were aiming for was the three tarns by Bowfell. "Shall we go up the band" I said to the Lovely Lisa? "Go to hell" she said, so we did, ascending the path by Hell Gill instead. We were on our way to Boot in Eskdale for the first time in many years, and it gave us the opportunity to tick off a Wainwright with a beery connection along the way: Hardknott.

Despite trying to keep the amount of gear I was lugging around to a minimum I'd brought a bottle of one of Hardknott Dave's delights to celebrate the occasion.

We didn't actually drink it on the summit as the wind was picking up so we waited til we'd got down to Hardknott Castle, a Roman fort which must have been very impressive in its day. 

We were staying at a Youth Hostel, and though I'd been slightly concerned about this before hand it was really good. Perhaps that we got go outside in the sun and wander round their nature reserve helped, but it was a lovely setting and the lack of traffic compared to Great Langdale was another bonus. It was also conveniently close to the Woolpack Inn, which we'd been to once before back when Hardknott Dave's first name was still Woolpack and the brewery was based there.

The new owners have obviously put some money into the place and opened it up so you can get through to the plusher side of the bar.

Innit plush?

Let's see that a little closer...

There were four or five beers on and Continuum was our tipple of choice, until the craving for Sneck Lifter lead us back to the youth hostel so we could get a bottle from their bar.

Next day we were heading over to Wasdale via Scafell, an excellent route but quite possibly the longest 3 1/2 miles I've ever walked, our average speed must have been around the one mile an hour mark. We only saw one other person until we'd nearly reached the summit, I suspect it would have been busier if we'd gone up the neighbouring and 14m higher Scafell Pike though.

The descent into Wasdale was a bit more scree ridden than we'd have liked, but we survived. Refreshment was at the Wasdale Head Inn, another pub that used to have a brewery in it. Plenty of hand pumps, which included Cumbrian Legendary Ale's Langdale and that was enough for us.

It was also enough for us bagging peaks, as after two days of trudging we took the easiest route back to Langdale the next day, going up to Styhead and then onto Esk Hause. The descent down Rossett Ghyll was even more tedious then we'd remembered, and the Old Dungeon Ghyll still seemed a long way off when we finally reached the bottom. But when we got to the pub the Old Peculier we'd set our heart on was waiting for us, and though it wasn't the best pint I've had it certainly did the job and eased our walk back to the hut.

We were in Langdale for the rest of the week and met up with my mountaineering club at the weekend. I even managed to get some climbing in, though we found the first pitch of Mendes, which was meant to be easy, quite a struggle, and certainly harder than the crux pitch. Perhaps if we'd actually climbed the right bit of rock we wouldn't have had so much trouble!

The philosophy of craft beer

The problematic question of "what is craft beer?" has now had a philosopher get involved. Brewer & Distiller International magazine has an article from some time philosophy lecturer and Heriot-Watt brewing graduate Andrew Jorgensen addressing this.

Of course those of us at the cutting edge of beer nerdery have long since decided it's simply a marketing term but it's interesting to see the IBD discussing this topic.

In the article the Brewers Association official definition is dissected and found lacking, and the usual guff about "passion" is dismissed as being too vague and usable by anyone. Instead what philosophers call "Direction-of-Fit" is called in to play:

"For a beer to sell well and be successful there needs to be a match between the attributes of the beer and the taste of the public. But there are two ways this 'fit' can be achieved. Either the beer takes its direction from and is designed to fit people's tastes. This is a beer-to-public direction-of-fit because the fit is achieved by making beer that conforms to people's tastes. Or the beer is made according to the brewer's tastes but s/he hopes to bring the public over to them. This is a public-to-beer direction-of-fit because people's tastes have to conform to the attributes of the beer if the brewer's desire to brew a successful beer is to be realised."

Though different philosophies might be at work, I still don't see this how this actually makes "craft beer" something distinct from other beer, as surely a brewer doesn't have to consistently stick to one of the philosophies and in his or her range of beers they could have some that are "beer-to-public" and some that are "public-to-beer".  

I remember a conversation I had a few years back with the last Head Brewer of Young's. He described Young's Special London Ale, an excellent IPA of 6.4% ABV, as a "brewer's beer" because it was the sort of beer brewers make to their own taste, not the taste of the public. This seems to closely match with the "two philosophies" idea but though the philosophies behind Young's Special London Ale and Young's "Ordinary" may be different they both come from the same brewery.

"Craft" beer and "non-craft" beer may be aimed at different markets but really that just seems to confirm that "craft beer" is just a marketing term. Some breweries focus on one type of beer, some on the other, and some do both.    

What's better than a beer from 1911?

Two beers from 1911! Oh yes. No details yet as I've only seen a post on a facebook but no doubt inspired by the lad's historic cup run The Draft House have made a beer called 1911, which I'm sure will be eagerly anticipated by Bradford City fans the world over.

Drinking outside the box

I've recently had some glimpses into the world of normal beer drinkers. A thread on a climbing forum asked "what's the worst brewery?" and the answers weren't quite what I expected.

That Black Isle got a mention was the first surprise, but then they did have an infection problem at one point. Then Brewdog were mentioned, but they do have quality issues and some of their beers won't be to everyone's taste. But when I saw Thornbridge listed I didn't know what to think. I can't remember a beer geek every complaining about them, except me about some of their prices that is.

Then down the Crown I heard that Windsor and Eton Kohinoor, a bitter IPA with a strong new world hop flavour, was selling slowly. Soon after I heard another brewer complaining how much Doom Bar was sold round his way. All I could think was, well, that's just how the world is.

Outside of beer geekdom there are a lot of people out there that don't like full flavoured and assertive beers. It's not just that they're happy to drink mildly flavoured beers, the don't actually like ones which aren't. As beer geekery tends to the extremophile end of things it's good to be reminded that most people stay away from the hop springs and drink in milder climates.

The Ballad of Reading Ale

On Saturday we had a research trip to Reading, something I've been meaning to do for some time. We started at The Ale House, a pub which lived up to its name with plenty of hand pumps. It's a small place, but we managed to find some seats in a cosy little alcove and settled in with pints of Mr Chubb's Lunchtime Bitter, an old favourite. We were waiting for another friend here so we had time for two. The lovely Lisa stuck with Mr Chubb, but as I used to work with Mr Bingham I moved on to his Twyford Tipple, which rather surprisingly had a touch of the Harvey's about it.

Zerodegrees was the next stop, it's part of a small chain of brewpubs. Though having said that it's more a bar than a pub and had loud beepy music playing so it wasn't to my taste. The beer's are some sort of CAMRA kosher keg but my hazy pale ale was fine and the smoked beer and wheat beer seemed to go down well too.

For some strange reason above the urinals they have pictures of women mocking  your manhood, not sure what that's all about.

It was time for a pie after that so we called in at Sweeney and Todd's, a restaurant with four beers on hand pump which mightily impressed me, even if the beer range was on the unexciting side. The food was very reasonably priced too.

Ready for more research after dinner I was delighted to discover another protestant sect as we waddled towards the last pub. This lot were homophobic Anglicans. I've never looked into C of E splits before but I've now got a whole new series of schisms to read up on. 

Our last stop was the Nag's Head, which had an impressive 12 cask beers on.

 
I spied Gadd's Old School Mild, which made the choice easy. Surprisingly hoppy for a dark mild I still enjoyed it even if I didn't get what was Old School about it. The pub was one big room with bare floor boards, which isn't really to my taste but I wasn't fussy by this stage of the proceedings. All that was left after that was to wend our way home, with refreshment from the M&S at the station sustaining us for the train journey.

Getting a Cobb on

The great wealth of information in the archives of the Journal of the Institute of Brewing has been a source of delight to me, but it also sent me into a temporary depression. I'd recently put some effort into tying up the loose ends of that most vexing question "what is a Goldings hop?", and felt some satisfaction that I now had the definitive answer on all ten of the varieties of Goldings.  

Then whilst using the excellent search function in the JIB archive to find more historic hop happiness I came across an unexpected bombshell: a 1943 paper which described Cobbs as a Golding variety. I'm sure you can understand the depression this threw me into. Could the most widely grown variety of Goldings really be a mere Golding variety?*

If this is the case then even buying East Kent Goldings won't guarantee you're getting real Goldings free from any interlopers. After much wailing and gnashing of teeth (I might even have pulled some hair out if I had any to spare) I resolved to investigate this calamitous calumny.

As it happens I should have done this straight away as a quick look at Percival showed Cobbs were selected from a garden of Canterbury whitebines, and so like all true Goldings differ from Farnham whitebines only by mutation and not by breeding. Phewb! I have since had it confirmed by Peter Darby that Cobbs really are a true variety of Goldings. 

Quite what caused the terrible travesty that left them languishing in a lower league for long years I couldn't say, but we can at least take comfort that they now reside where they rightfully belong.











* If you don't understand what I'm wittering on about Golding variety is the name for the second division of English hops, not considered as good as the varieties of hops that make up the true Goldings. And for those of you too young to remember the second division think League Championship .