Draught Burton Ale - DBA

Just a quick post to report on the appearance of a classic beer that I thought had long vanished. I’m talking about Ind Coope’s Draught Burton Ale, or DBA for short. Those of us with long memories aka, those of a certain age, will remember this classic Burton beer, and the storm it caused within the beer world when it first launched in 1976 – 50 years ago to be precise! The appearance of this beer marked a turning point in what CAMRA had described as the “Real Ale Revolution.” It was certainly the moment in time when the large brewing conglomerates began to take “Real Ale” seriously.

If my memory is correct, and that’s not always a certainty after half a century, DBA was a beer based on the bottled version of Double Diamond, which was a completely different brew to the fizzy keg beer of the same name. Promoted under the slogan “A Double Diamond works wonders”, keg DD was weaker in strength than the bottled version and lacking in taste as well. Bottled DD was a successor of the true Burton pale ales of yesteryear, whilst the keg version was just that – a mass-produced, and heavily promoted keg bitter, designed to compete with other national keg beers, such as Courage Tavern Keg, Watney’s Red, Whitbread Tankard, and several others, of similar ilk.

It was a stroke of marketing genius though, to launch a cask beer with the strength and credentials of a genuine Burton Pale Ale, and for several decades Ind Coope DBA was a well-deserved success. However, further takeovers and mergers within the brewing industry, left the beer out on a limb. Other, equally characterful cask beers came along, with most of them brewed by independent brewers. Slowly, but surely sales of DBA began to slide, and eventually, Danish giant Carlsberg, who by then owned the brand, decided to put the beer out of its misery. This happened in January 2015, with the Danes claiming that demand for DBA had fallen to “an unsustainable level”. With virtually no promotion behind the brand, and the beer itself, almost impossible to find, this was hardly surprising.

And there, the DBA story might have ended, had it not been for the duo behind the small, Burton Bridge Brewery, who announced they planned to brew a batch of a beer called Draught Burton Ale for the local CAMRA beer festival the following month. It was fitting then that Geoff Mumford and Bruce Wilkinson, both of whom had worked for Ind Coope, and had been involved in devising the recipe for the original DBA, should brew the beer.

Fast forward to March 2020, and the period shortly before the first, national COVID emergency was declared. I was visiting Burton-on-Trent with a group of beer and pub enthusiasts, drawn for the ranks of the CAMRA Discourse, Beer & Pubs Forum, plus a number of beer bloggers and enthusiasts like me. We were on what might be described as a “curated tour” of some of Burton’s finest pubs. One of those pubs was the famous Burton Bridge Brewery, and the company’s version of DBA was on sale at the pub of the same name. We of course, had to try a pint, and you can read what I wrote about my experience of the beer, here.

A couple of weeks after that visit to Burton, the National COVID Lockdown came into force, and what with partial lifting, “firebreak” shutdowns, “Zones" and all the other nonsense we had to endure, it was the best part of two years before such “curated tours” were again possible, and things started getting back to normal.

In the meantime, I’d forgotten all about Draught Burton Ale, so imagine my surprise at seeing it on sale at the Nelson Arms, in Tonbridge. I’d popped in for a glass or two of Harvey’s XXXX Old Ale, a beer that you might recall I am quite fond of. Seeing the pump clip, brought back memories, so I just had to try a pint, and that provoked other memories, because the DBA tasted every bit as good as I recall. Checking with the Burton Bridge Brewery website, I’m pleased to confirm that this legendary beer is still available, at least in bottled form. Presumably, the beer must be packaged in cask form too, at least from time to time.

 

Topsham's Bridge Inn, at last

In the previous post, you left me at the Lighter Inn, the rather posh Hall & Woodhouse establishment, overlooking the Quayside, in Topsham. I was about to head off, through the town, up the hill, and past the station, before turning right at the top, and along a road lined with a mix of rather ordinary looking suburban bungalows and houses. 

After turning left, into Bridge Hill, it wasn’t long before the pink-painted, Bridge Inn came into view, just a short distance away at a point where the houses thin out, and the road takes a turn to the left. The bridge that gives both the road and the pub its name, over the River Clyst, comes into view, as does the more open countryside overlooked by the hills in the distance. There, overlooking the river, stood the pub I had travelled through several southern English counties, in order to visit.

There’s always a palpable sense of excitement when approaching a new pub for the first time, especially when it’s one like the Bridge that I’d been wanting to visit for some time. There’s a danger that the excitement can be dissipated when you discover that the place isn’t quite what you were expecting, despite the description and photos you may have seen beforehand. The other side of the coin is the place is much better than you’d thought it would be OR, it is just different. Usually, the place you’ve been looking forward to visiting, is a combination of all these actions and emotions. I’ve been thinking about this a lot, recently, even to the extent of writing a separate post on the subject, but after teasing and tempting you all over recent posts, let’s launch straight in to the Bridge Inn, at Topsham. As I descended the hill, towards the pub, there was a decorator painting the window frames - an unenviable task given the cold, outdoor temperatures. Unsure for a moment, which door was the entrance, I asked this painter which was the way in. Once inside, it still took me a while to get my bearings and spy out the lay of the land.

A long corridor ran towards the rear of the building, with a door marked private. There were various rooms leading off from both sides, and as I discovered, the middle one on the right, was private, and was where the beer was kept, and the food prepared. Even now, I’m still a little confused, but I think there was a room at the front, again to the right. The room I wanted to be in was at the far end of the corridor, and this is where orders for beer and food were taken and paid for. It was packed, and there weren’t any spare chairs, or indeed tables there, but I did order a pint of Golden Fiddle, a highly quaffable, 4.0% golden ale from Branscombe Brewery. Served in a dimple, pint mug, as are all the beers at the Bridge, it was both pleasant and refreshing. It was also another tick on Untappd.

I ordered one of the Bridge’s legendary homemade pasties, and after giving my name to the lady behind the bar, made my way to the front of the pub, where I managed to squeeze onto the end of a table, in the room on the left. With windows on two sides, this room was bright and spacious, with a friendly and welcoming feel. It was a while before my pasty arrived, but this large, and freshly warmed, homemade delicacy, was worth the wait. It was brought in by the same person who took the order, and from what others in the room referred to her by, I gather her name was Caroline.

Her name, linked to the Bridge Inn, crops up in the acknowledgements at the end of Adrian’s book, where she receives a very special thanks, from the author, and as I’ve noticed other, online references to this lady, I’m of the opinion that she’s a member of the family who own, and run the Bridge. That aside, I didn’t feel inclined to introduce myself, as I’m just another beer writer and pun enthusiast, and I’m sure that the pub receives plenty of visitors, throughout the year, drawn from various parts of the country, and all eager to experience the atmosphere and ambience of this classic, English pub. My pasty arrived, piping hot and served with a simple garnish of tomato and pickle onion, both of which were sliced. It was an excellent pub snack, but after watching other peoples’ lunch arrive, the bowl of warming, homemade vegetable soup, with crusty bread and butter, looked equally inviting. 

Perhaps I should have pushed the boat out, and gone for the soup as well? Another beer was called for, and this time I went for Darkness – The Prince of Ales from Exeter Brewery. This 5.1%, smooth chocolate stout, wasn’t as impressive as my first pint, but was still another beer for Untappd. It was time to make tracks back to Exeter, although I’m still kicking myself for not visiting the Passage House Inn, back in Topsham. The train journey to Exeter, is along the mainly single-track line, that runs up from the coast, at Exmouth. Its noisy, diesel-powered DMU’s, brought back memories of the Tonbridge-Redhill line, prior to electrification, as well as the lines out to Romiley from Manchester Piccadilly, back in my student days.

You will already be familiar with the ending of my day-out, in the welcoming warmth of the Imperial, close to Exeter St Davids, as well as the broken-down train on my journey back to London. Leaving that incident aside, it had been a most enjoyable day out, visiting a part of the country that I hadn’t been to before. One or two work colleagues questioned my sanity, as did Mrs PBT’s, but in the general scheme of things it wasn’t that lengthy a journey – I’ve done Tonbridge-Edinburgh in a day, and found time to visit a local brewery. The only question that needs answering, is where to next?

Topsham comes out tops

According to the details on my phone camera, I arrived at the small, estuary town of Topsham, shortly before 11:20am. This would have been around the time that this poster for 70’s prog-rockers Curved Air, came into view. It’s somewhat idealised picture of the lovely Sonja Kristina was sufficient to melt the heart of this septuagenarian and transport him back 53 years to a previous existence as a rather shy sixth former, at Ashford Boy’s Grammar School. Then the bubble burst, because despite watching many well-known groups play their stuff, primarily at Folkestone’s Lea’s Cliff Hall, Curved Air with their attractive, lead singer wasn’t one of them.

I suppose that had I spent a couple of additional days in the Exeter area, then my boyhood crush might have been fulfilled. But of course, it wouldn’t have been – moments in time and all that. Instead, here I was in this picturesque Devon about to fulfill another, and far more recent wish, namely that of visiting a pub that only entered my consciousness six months ago.

 I’m sure many of you will realise I’m talking about the Bridge Inn, a pub that I’d read about in Adrian Tierney-Jone’s excellent book, “A Pub for All Seasons.”  The Bridge is a little way out of town, back towards the station, and then some distance beyond that. It overlooks a river, but it’s a separate water course to the River Exe which separates Topsham from the countryside on the opposite bank. We are talking here about the River Clyst, which is much smaller than the Exe, into which it flows a few miles downstream.

With forty minutes left before the Bridge was set to open its doors, it seemed sensible to start by visiting some pubs in Topsham, holding off on the main event until later. So, decision made, I headed down to the waterfront and the Lighter, the first of the town’s pub on my list. Situated directly on the Quayside, my research showed this Hall & Woodhouse pub opened its doors at 11am. So far, so good, except that the Lighter was resolutely closed, its doors locked, and any welcoming internal lights well and truly dimmed. Not a good start for someone who’d been steadily nursing a thirst since reaching the West Country, two or three hours earlier.

Undeterred, I headed back along Topsham’s main street towards the imposing Globe Hotel, an establishment that I’d passed earlier, and one that I knew was already open. Its signage, displaying little doubt as to it ownership, by leading Cornish brewers, St Austell, who acquired the premises in 2011. 

The Globe is a former coaching inn, which dates from the 16^th century, and today still offers accommodation in a number of stylish rooms. The food offering looks good, although it comes at prices one might expect from a high-end establishment. I entered beneath an extensive porch at the front of the building, which opened up into the main bar area. A log fire, opposite the bar, provided some much needed and very welcome warmth, that was much needed after the bright, but cold conditions, outside.

Being a St Austell house, the cask beers were Proper Job, a seasonal beer containing maple syrup, and Gem Amber Ale, from Bath Ales – who are a subsidiary of St Austell. I gravitated towards the Proper Job, and a right decent job of a beer it was too. With its heavily beamed ceiling, wood-panelled bar, plus rooms leading off in several directions, the Globe was just the place to settle in for a slow, leisurely afternoon. I had other pubs to visit though, so I retraced my footsteps, back to the Lighter Inn which, by this time was now open.

Situated on the Quayside, in a prime spot on the water overlooking the River Exe estuary, the Lighter is similar, in many respects to the Globe.  Good-quality food is served all day, and it can get rather busy, especially in the holiday season. That wasn’t the case last Friday, although given the pub’s shoreline position, and it overall setting, it’s not difficult to understand the Lighter’s popularity.  Another attraction, of course, especially to beer lovers, is the range of Badger beers, because the Lighter is a tied house, belonging to Dorset brewers, Hall & Woodhouse.

Unlike the previous pub, I decided to be a bit more adventurous, this time around, and opted for a glass of Shadows Fall, H&W’s dark, seasonal offering.  It was quite pleasant, although on balance I would still prefer a pint of Tanglefoot.  Like its neighbouring pub, the Lighter is a dog-friendly establishment. In case you are wondering about the pub’s name, a Lighter is a large flat-bottomed barge used for transporting cargo, especially used to deliver or unload goods to or from a cargo ship or transport goods over short distances.

I didn’t dally too long at the Lighter, as I was keen to reach the third pub on my list, and the one that had been the prime reason for me journeying through four English counties in order to visit Topsham. That pub, of course, was the Bridge Inn, and whilst the first two pubs had been good, the Bridge was definitely the icing on the cake. More about that next time, but the only regret I have regarding that visit, was missing out on the chance to visit the Passage House Inn.

Breakfast catch-up, at the Chaser

After last Friday’s day out, and the drama of the journey home, here is a quick, stop-gap post before we return to the picturesque town of Topsham, and its legendary heritage pub, the Bridge Inn. The day before my trip, son Matthew and I enjoyed a bit of father-son bonding over a cooked, pub breakfast. 

With the not quite so recent now, arrival of a girlfriend in Matthew’s life, it’s been a long time since we spent some time together, and with Mrs PBT’s working, and the pair of us free that morning, what better way to spend it than in a local pub, enjoying a spot of breakfast. The first meal of the day seems to feature quite regularly amongst local pubs, and whilst this is largely confined to weekends, a small, but growing number of West Kent hostelries, are now offering a cooked breakfast on every day of the year.

One such establishment is the Chaser Inn, at Shipbourne, an attractive and well laid out village to the north of Tonbridge, situated at the base of the Greensand Ridge. The Chaser is owned by pub-group Whiting & Hammond, whose portfolio includes the Little Brown Jug in Chiddingstone Causeway, close to where I work. It is a large and impressive building with a tile hung exterior and a white veranda at the front. There is an attractive conservatory at the rear, plus a wood panelled and timber roofed dining area at the rear. If you haven’t twigged already, the Chaser is an unashamed, food-led pub with plenty of seating intermingled with unsegregated drinking areas and open fires.

Parking at the Chaser, has always been an issue, especially at weekends, and with the nearby common a popular spot for dog walkers, and people setting out on rambles, it can often be a case of no room at the inn. I knew the pub used to do breakfast on a Sunday morning, and a few years ago, before the advent of the pandemic, and Matthew and I had tried, and failed to get ourselves a breakfast there. We arrived rather too late that particular day, and whilst I wasn't expecting to be able to park at the pub itself, I thought there would be spaces on the large green opposite. Unfortunately, there was no such luck that day, as Shipbourne Common can be very popular.

Thursday was a bright, sunny and rather cold day, where the term “crisp” springs to mind, especially when there’s a frost on the ground, as there was that day. We were given a choice of several tables, but chose one which benefited from the fire, blazing away in the grate. I restricted myself to a couple of poached eggs on toast, but Matthew went steaming ahead, and ordered a full English. The bacon, sausage, tomato, and black pudding stacked up on his plate appeared to be cooked to perfection, and served on top of two slices of thick, nicely done toast, seemed the perfect combination.

My poached eggs were good as well, although I couldn’t help thinking that some nice crispy bacon would have gone down well with them too. As I’ve mentioned before, it is obvious from the taste of the bacon and the sausage that they were quality items. Locally sourced too, according to the menu, proof that it really does make a difference paying that little bit extra, and backing up what Mrs PBT's is always saying, about getting what you pay for!

We had a large pot of tea between us, which was sufficient to keep us going throughout breakfast, with several cups each. The pub dining area wasn’t packed, but then again, we’d arrived rather late, only narrowly beating the 11am cut-off time. 

With its bright and sunny outlook across the common, coupled with the chance to catch up on things, it was a good place to start the day. With a 6am start looming, for the following morning, this pleasant interlude acted as the perfect foil for what I knew would be a hectic end to the week.

 

Topsham for the day, by train

I enjoyed a brilliant day out in the attractive little Devon town of Topsham on Friday, with lots to write about, and lots to report on. In the end it was just me who made the journey, but as I’m fine with my own company, that wasn’t an issue. I was lucky with the weather as well, especially after the frosts, snow flurries and strong winds in the days preceding my trip, and was blessed by wall-to-wall sunshine, which certainly showed this charming settlement on the river Exe, at its best. The only fly in the ointment was being abandoned at Taunton, on the journey home, due to a broken-down train.

More on that later on, and for the time being, let’s concentrate on the positives. I had an early start to my journey, that was primarily down to me wishing to obtain the cheapest rail fare possible, which meant travelling outside of rush hour. So, leaving the comfort of home at just before 6am, in order to catch the 6.35am service to London Bridge, meant arriving at 10:35am. A little early for most of the town’s pubs, although as things turned out, my train was late pulling into Exeter, due to a “technical” issue, and it wasn’t until 11:15 that I finally arrived in Topsham. The problem with the train was a foretaste of what was to come later in the day, although I didn’t realise it at the time.

Trying to adopt a logical approach to Topsham’s pubs was skewed by a couple of points which revolved mainly around the old-fashioned opening hours of the Bridge Inn, the town’s time-warp, "heritage pub", and one of the prime reasons for my visit. This situation, when coupled with this unspoilt gem being some distance in the opposite direction from the main part of town, made attempts to arrange a logical tour of Topsham’s pubs rather difficult. Awkward, but not impossible, of course, and when combined with the unexpected, but very welcome, winter sunshine, it added to the delight of this attractive, east Devon town.

Topsham reminded me of Dartmouth – without the crowds, or more likely Salcombe, and there is something about the riverside setting of these south Devon towns that appeals perhaps to the inner seafarer that lies hidden deep within an island race, like us Brits. There is obviously money, in all these settlements, and whilst some might dismiss the townsfolk as all “pashminas and posh pooches”, visitors at least know what they are getting. From a personal perspective, I found Topsham to be an absolute delight, although given the unseasonably good weather, I was obviously seeing the town in its best light.

Readers might recall that my reasons for visiting the town in the first place were prompted by beer writer, Adrian Tierney-Jones’s, “A Pub For All Seasons”; a book that I read, earlier this year. The Bridge Inn is one of many pubs to feature in the book, but it becomes obvious upon reading it, that this characterful pub, on the edge of Topsham is one of the author’s favourite watering holes. Liking, what I had read, I knew I had to visit the place and experience it myself. You can read more about the Bridge in a later post but suffice to say that whilst differing from what I was expecting, it still ticked all the right boxes, and a few more besides.

Besides the Bridge, I visited the St Austell Brewery- owned Globe Inn, plus the Lighter – a Hall & Woodhouse owned pub, right on the Quayside. Somehow, I missed out on the Passage House Inn, which is tucked away, overlooking the estuary on the opposite edge of the town. This was despite having originally marked this Heavitree Brewery pub as well worth visiting - spoiler alert, Heavitree ceased brewing in 1970, and since then have been just a pub-owning company. 

If truth be known, it was my desire to get along to the Bridge Inn that led to the Passage House falling off my radar, although I’d also neglected to write it down on the checklist of pubs, locations, train times and other information I was carrying in the breast pocket of my shirt. With the benefit of that wonderful thing called “hindsight” I could easily have wandered back down into Topsham and grabbed a quick pint at the Passage House, before heading back up to the station for the train back to Exeter.

Despite this faux-pas, I still managed a pint back in Exeter, before my train home. I’d originally planned for a beer in the Exeter Brewery Taproom, which is just a short hop from Exeter St David’s station, before discovering that it didn’t open until 5pm. I had a couple of hours to kill before then (time to have visited the Passage House!), so having noticed a large sign for an equally large Wetherspoons outlet called the Imperial, I headed up the hill towards the pub.  This Grade II listed building began life as a private house, before becoming a hotel in 1923. Wetherspoons acquired the hotel in 1974, and then converted it into today’s cavernous and imposing pub.

It was Friday afternoon, and the Imperial was packed with a mainly student crowd, drawn from the neighbouring Exeter College, whose campus borders the grounds of the latter. I was reminded, to a certain extent, of my own student days, half a century ago, even though there were no “super pubs” in the mould of JDW back then.  The youngsters seemed happy to be celebrating the end of the week, and most likely the approaching end of the autumn term - are they still referred to as “Trimesters”? Despite the crowds there were still quite a few empty tables, so I grabbed one after first ordering a pint of Reel Ale from Teignworthy Brewery, who are based nearby, at Newton Abbot.

There would probably have been time for that quick pint at the Exeter Brewery Tap, but I’d run out of steam by then, so I wandered back down the hill and to the station. My train arrived on time and, unsurprisingly for a Friday evening, was packed. There were people (not all of them students), heading home for the weekend, or others possibly heading up to London for a short break in the capital. I had a reserved seat, so was fine, and settled down to enjoy the journey back to Paddington.  Unfortunately, things weren’t quite going to plan, and an announcement from the conductor, apologising for our relatively slow speed (I hadn’t really noticed), prepared us for the worst.

The train was running on just two of its five engines, and there was concern that even this might not be sustainable for the remainder of the journey. So, after stopping at Taunton, ostensibly to try and fix the fault, we were then asked to leave the train. With little in the way of instructions, as what to do next, I joined with a groups of passengers who’d been using their phones to monitor forthcoming train movements through Taunton station. A Cross-Country service, heading for Leeds would be stopping at Taunton soon, and would then be calling at Bristol. As there were regular GWR services from the latter city, heading toward the capital, I decided to join this group and squeezed onto that train.

“Squeezing” was the operative word, and the 45-minute ride brought back equally unpleasant memories of a similarly over-crowded Cross-Country rail journey I’d made whilst travelling to Macclesfield back in December 2023. When you’re packed in so tightly that you can hardly move, and you’re unable to remove your coat, or put down your bag, you start wondering how much longer until the train arrives at its next destination. Fortunately, the sense of humour of some of my fellow passengers, helped keep everyone going through what was an extremely unpleasant journey.

I escaped the cramped confines of the train at Bristol’s Temple Meads station, where I was able to empty my bladder, before finding the platform from where the next London-bound train would be leaving. Much to my amazement, there were still quite a few vacant seats on board. 

I don’t know how the other passengers on that ill-fated train from Exeter fared, but there had been a lot of talk about the increasing unreliability of the bi-modal train sets, used by GWR and a number of other train operating companies. These units are designed to run on both electrified and non- electrified rail tracks, which sounds good in principle, but perhaps not quite as good in practice.

I’ve dwelt on this issue longer than intended, and although uncomfortable, plus annoying, it didn’t detract from what overall, was an excellent day out. Earlier on Saturday, I submitted my “Delay – Repay” claim form to GWR and await to see the outcome of that. In the meantime, there’s more to come, including further details of the pubs I visited, including, of course, Topsham’s legendary Bridge Inn.

 

Three threads - not a beer, but a three-part post

There’s quite a bit of catching up to do following our recent voyage into the Atlantic ocean, although this current post might, if I pitch it correctly, cover a lot of ground. Depending on how it turns out we might find one post seamlessly leading straight into another, although there’s no guaranteed as to how things turn out. We shall have to wait and see, but in the meantime let’s kick off with a visit to Tonbridge’s premier alehouse, the Nelson Arms. I called in, sometime after 2pm on Sunday, ostensibly in search of Harvey’s November 5^th offering, Bonfire Boy. It turned out I was a session too late, and unsurprisingly this seasonal offering, had sold out. Plan B was to try the Green Hop beer from Gun Brewery, alongside the Porter, from Kent Brewery.  

Somewhat uncharacteristically, I ordered a half of each beer, rather than a pint, but in the case of the latter offering, I was glad that I did, as I’m sorry to report that it was one of the worst beers I have ever tasted. It wasn’t off, cloudy, or on the turn, but it was unbalanced, and dominated by a very astringent aftertaste, that was quite unpalatable and really unpleasant. I couldn’t even force myself to drink it, but with no suitable plant pots to pour the unwanted beer into, I handed it back to the barman and asked him to tip it away. It’s very unusual for me not to be able to finish a beer, but there was no point in struggling with a beer I couldn’t stomach. 

I must admit, I’ve never been a fan of Kent Brewery beers, but as they keep cropping up, particularly in the Nelson, I was starting to think, up until this incident, that it was me who was at fault, rather than the brewery. My replacement was a half pint of QPA, a session pale ale from Quantock Brewery. This beer was perfectly acceptable, as was the Green Hop Pale from Gun Brewery. 

The latter was the first Green Hop beer I’ve sampled so far this year, and this brings me on to the second thread of this post, namely from being everywhere one looked, 10 years ago, to being both rare and hard to find, in 2025. It’s probably no exaggeration to say that in these straightened times, an increasing number of breweries are finding them too difficult to brew – given the time restraints associated with GHA’s, and the lack of appreciation from the drinking public who never really got the point of them. Consequently, apart from in specialised outlets, these seasonal beers are increasingly difficult to come across.

How things have changed for Green Hop Ales since I first wrote about them in 2015, detailing exactly what they are, and what it is about them that makes them so unique.  The general public (but not readers of this, or other beer blogs), often wrongly believe that beer is brewed from hops whereas, as most of us know, beer is brewed from malted barley (sometimes with the addition of other cereals), with hops providing the “seasoning”. Hops impart tanginess, bitterness plus aroma, and they also act as a preservative in the finished product. That’s cleared up that urban myth, so now onto the more important stuff, such as the difference between normal and green hop beers.

Hops are normally dried, prior to being used in brewing, in order to preserve their important flavouring characteristics, and to ensure the harvested crop lasts throughout the year. Green Hop Beer though, is made with fresh, or “green”, hops that are used as soon as possible after harvesting and ideally within 12 hours of being picked. The resulting beers have a characteristic fresh taste because the green hops used contain oils and other aroma compounds that are normally lost when hops are dried. 

The very first Green Hop Ales (GHA’s), were of necessity experimental, as no one really knew how many hops needed to be added at the start of the brewing process, or how the finished product would turn out. Contrast this with normal dried hops where, from experience gained over many years, the brewer knows the correct weight of hops to be added to each brew, in order to achieve the desired result and a consistent end product.

Many of the original GHA’s were unbalanced and, to put it mildly, rather over-hopped! I remember some of these beers possessing a rich resinous taste, alongside an almost oily texture, which often meant you could actually feel the hops oils coating your tongue and the roof of your mouth. Over the years, brewers began making compensation for the resinous feel of their GHA’s, and if you take a look back at the many posts about Green Hop beers that I wrote over the years, you can almost feel these beers becoming less and less astringent, oily and overly bitter.

The inevitable result has been GHA’s that taste less and less like something special, and more and more mainstream. This was certainly my feeling when I knocked back that glass of Gun Green Hop Pale, and I believe it is the experience of many other beer drinkers who once raved over GHA’s but now view them as no different from “normal” beers. It’s almost as if the pendulum has moved full-swing, and has now, become an increasingly meaningless marketing exercise, along the lines of Beaujolais Nouveau. I imagine that brewers, and hop growers up and down the county, will be relieved at not being tied into the tight timetable that governs the production of green hop beers; a schedule that is constrained by having to keep their brewing operations on stand-by, whilst waiting for that phone call from the hop grower that says, “We’re harvesting, tomorrow.”

It was fun whilst it lasted, and those mid-September train rides over to Canterbury, sampling a range of mainly Kent GHA’s, in the warm, early autumn sunshine of the city’s Dane John Gardens, are now just a distant memory. If further proof was needed that the whole Green Hop thing has turned full circle, the Kent Green Hop Festival is no longer the countywide event that it was 10, or even 5 years ago. Instead, it has morphed into a series of local events, hosted either by the brewers themselves or, more usually, those pubs still banging the gong for GHA’s.

The final part of that mythical thread I was talking about at the beginning of this piece, concerns Untappd, and the fact that put simply, this beer ticking App does not lie. How do I know this? Well, the three beers that I sampled at the Nelson last Sunday were all beers that I’d sampled previously. This was despite me thinking they were new ones. I found this out when I attempted to score them on Untappd, only to find that I’d ticked them before. That includes Kent Brewery Porter, which I awarded a reasonable score of 3.75. Perhaps something went wrong with the latest brew, or perhaps I was just having an off day, but with reasonable scores for the other two beers I enjoyed that day, I suspect not.

As for the Nelson itself, the pub was doing a healthy trade in Sunday lunches, and it wasn’t until one group of diners left that I was able to get a seat. Good news then, and proof if your offering is good, people will keep coming back for more, but to really satisfy me, how about another cask of Harvey’s Bonfire Boy, or, in a few weeks’ time, a cask of the brewery’s legendary Christmas Ale.