Iconic Brand to Ironic Bland

What does it take for a beer to change from being an “iconic brand” to an “ironic bland”? The transformation of a once great beer, full of flavour, character and highly sought after, into a pale shadow of its former self. A pastiche if you like?

The answer, in a lot of cases, seems to be an increase in the popularity, and availability of the beer. When this occurs there is often a temptation, on the part of the brand owners, to cut corners’ to rush things in order to keep up with demand. In addition there is often a temptation to “cash in” on the success of the brand, so much so that in many instances it is a case of “killing the goose that laid the golden egg”. However, despite numerous examples of this in the past, no lessons ever appear to be drawn.

This “selling of one’s soul”, does not appear to happen in other industries. Take fashion for instance. There is no evidence of iconic brands such as Versace, Gucci, Armani etc becoming devalued. If there was, then this would surely spell the end of these famous fashion houses, and yet in the world of brewing there are countless beers that were also regarded as  iconic brands, some even attracting cult followings which bordered on messianic. Many have disappeared completely, or are mere shadows of what they once were, so is this the ultimate price of success?

 Draught Bass is probably the beer which has suffered most in this respect. Once the yardstick against which other beers were measured, this iconic and world famous Burton Pale Ale, has suffered the indignation of no longer being brewed in the traditional Burton Union Sets. The brewery where it was once brewed has long been demolished. Its parent company is no longer involved in brewing, and the brand’s new owners have contracted out the production of this once great beer to a rival company!

Ruddles County, is another beer which has probably suffered an even worse fate than that of Draught Bass. Reduced in strength over the years, and shunted around a succession of different breweries as the brand changed hands between various national, and even international conglomerates, this beer is nothing like the rich, full-bodied, generously hopped ale I remember drinking back in the late 1970’s – early 1980’s.  A beer that was eagerly sought after by CAMRA devotees during the early days of the campaign, and one of the favourites of the “real ale revolution”, is now just another bland and emasculated Greene King brand. The Suffolk brewers have reduced the strength of the beer to just 4.3%, and changed the recipe in the process. Why then pretend that this is the same legendary beer that once came out of Rutland?

A similar iconic brand, of which I have personal experience, is Boddingtons Bitter. Back in 1973, upon hearing I’d been offered a place at Salford University, a school friend who knew a lot more about beer than I did at the time, told me to look out for Boddingtons. Once there, the beer took a bit of tracking down. The student union bar was jointly tied to Allied Breweries and Scottish & Newcastle, and most of the pubs surrounding the university sold only big brewery products, or were tied to Greenall Whitley (grotty Greenalls!) whose beers were, if anything, even worse!

My first experience of Boddingtons then came several weeks into my first term at Salford. A short distance to the south-west of the campus was a high-rise estate. There were several newly-built characterless pubs serving the estate, one of which belonged to Boddingtons. One night, mindful of what my school friend might say on my return to Kent, I decided to grab the bull by the horns and call in at this pub in order to sample some Boddingtons myself.

At first it seemed most of the customers were drinking lager so pale was the colour of the beer, but after ordering a pint of bitter, dispensed via a metered-electric pump, complete with bar-mounted glass cylinder, I realised this was the real thing. I had never seen a straw-coloured bitter before; nor had I tasted one that was so intensely bitter. However, I found it very much to my taste and over the next few months and years of my stay in Salford, made a point of seeking out Boddingtons pubs wherever possible.

The growing popularity of Boddingtons bitter during this time, led to expansion of the company’s Strangeways Brewery, and the expansion of the brand into the local free trade. For the time being at least, Boddingtons bitter remained a brand confined to Greater Manchester and the north-west, but things were to change quite dramatically over the coming decades. Before these changes took place though, rumblings of disquiet began to circulate amongst Boddingtons drinkers that the beer was losing some of its character. It was becoming less hoppy, and increasingly blander. Certainly when it was compared with Manchester rivals Joseph Holt & Co, whose beer was correctly described at the time as “uncompromisingly bitter”, Boddingtons increasingly failed to deliver.

This “dumbing down” of an iconic drink was happening as my time in Greater Manchester was coming to an end, and I was heading back south; initially to London and then shortly after back to Kent. It didn’t go un-noticed with me that Boddingtons had started to cut back on their range of beers, dropping one of the two milds they produced, along with their seasonal Strong Ale. The company also went on a mini-takeover spree, buying out, and later closing nearby neighbours Oldham Ales, followed by Liverpool’s most famous brewery – Higsons. Then in 1989 Boddingtons did the unthinkable by deciding to exit from brewing altogether and become purely a pub-owning company.

The Strangeways Brewery was bought by Whitbread, along with the brands, and Whitbread wasted no time into turning Boddingtons bitter into a national brand. Marketed as the “Cream of Manchester”, Boddingtons bitter spread like a plague across the land, but by now the brand had become so de-based that for me, and I’m sure many other beer lovers, it became a beer to avoid rather than embrace. Whitbread even went so far as to launch a “smooth-flow” version which must have been even worse, although I wasn’t foolhardy enough to try it!

So a once extremely good, iconic local beer became just another lacklustre national brand. I have already mentioned Draught Bass and Ruddles County as examples of the dumbing down, and indeed out and out bastardisation of a couple of once iconic beers, but this process continues un-abated within the brewing industry.

Seasoned observers will point to another iconic beer which appears to be suffering the same fate. Timothy Taylor’s Landlord was the stuff of legends. This classic Yorkshire brew started life as a bottled pale ale, and at one time was only available in draught (cask) form at one pub; the Hare & Hounds at Lane Ends, high in the hills over-looking the Yorkshire town of Hebden Bridge. I know this because back when I was a student, a group of us hired a mini-bus for the express purpose of visiting this pub, just so we could sample draught Landlord. The unspoilt pub, the scenery and the excellent beer were well worth the long drive over the Pennines from Salford and not long after, waking up to the fact they had a sure-fire winner on their hands, Taylor’s began increasing the availability of Landlord.

I can’t remember when exactly it started appearing in the free trade in this part of the country, but it must have been a couple of decades at least after my visit to the Hare & Hounds. The beer was a regular guest, and a favourite with customers, at our off-licence, between 2001 and 2006, and I always remember how lively this beer was when tapped and spiled. In recent years though, Landlord has definitely lost a lot of its complexity. It is still a very good beer, but I do feel the rush to make it much more widely available has resulted in a distinct loss of character, and that yet another iconic beer is heading in the same direction as some of the others I have mentioned.

Perhaps the journey from iconic brand to ironic bland is an inevitable one, and perhaps also the analogy with the fashion industry was not quite so far off the mark as I first thought. Leaving aside issues of cheapening the brand for one moment, the world of fashion has to be the ultimate example of style triumphing over substance. Isn’t this the same as what’s been happening in the world of beer?

A Few Days In Prague

Earlier this week my family and I returned from a four day mini-break in Prague. This was my wife Eileen’s first visit to the Czech capital, son Matthew’s second and my fourth, so it proved to be an interesting combination of expectations and experiences. Being a family holiday, beer hunting wasn’t exactly on top of the agenda, but even so there was still a reasonable amount of beer drinking involved. The prime reason for our visit was to experience some of Prague’s Christmas Markets, which commence trading at the beginning of December, and we were not disappointed with what we found and enjoyed. On top of that I can safely say all three of us thoroughly enjoyed our time in the Czech capital, and will undoubtedly be returning again in the not too distant future.

Rather than writing a blow-by-blow account of the beers we enjoyed, and the pubs and bars where we drank them, instead I want to relate my impressions of the general drinking scene in Prague, along with how I see the market developing out there. The thing that sticks out above all others in the Bohemian capital is the widespread availability of unfiltered beer (Nefiltrované pivo). Even the big boys are in on this now, and we found unfiltered Staropramen 12˚ on sale in the restaurant attached to our hotel, and unfiltered Gambrinus 11˚ at the Hard Rock Café (Eileen's choice for lunch, and treat! ) just along from Prague’s Old Town Square.

The top Nefiltrované pivo, so far as I was concerned, was Unetické pivo 12˚, from Únětický Pivovar, a recently revived brewery in the village of Unetice which is almost a suburb of Prague. The original brewery ceased brewing in 1949, but re-started again in 2011 in the old premises, but using  new brewing kit. This wonderfully tasty and bitter, pale lager was on sale at Na Slamiku, a real, traditional Czech local, situated right opposite our hotel, and the pub itself combined, with the Unetické pivo 12˚, turned out to be the perfect combination and the find of the trip.

We ate and drank at Na Slamiku on two of the four evenings we were in Prague, finding the atmosphere of this unspoilt local pub reminded us of what pubs were like back in the UK during their 1970's heyday. The freshly cooked, value for money food served was the perfect match for the excellent beer, and with indoor smoking permitted, as in many Czech pubs, Eileen was a very happy bunny. What amazed us was the way the pub was run by just three people; a husband and wife,  plus a cook. On our first visit on Friday night, the place was heaving, and we were lucky to get a seat. During this time, the husband and wife team were kept very busy transporting plates weighed down with good wholesome dishes, and foaming mugs of beer, to the various tables. This they did with a  cheery smile for us, and some friendly banter for the locals.

I said earlier that beer hunting was not the main objective of the holiday, and it wasn't,  but  nevertheless I was determined to try and track down some, what for me, are some of the best  "mainstream" beers the Czech Republic's has to offer. Bernard of Humpolec, in eastern Bohemia, brew some fantastic beers, full of character, with a rich maltiness, balanced by a good hop bitterness.

We had spent the morning of our last full day in Prague at the colourful Christmas Market, in the city's Old Town Square. After a surfeit of hot honey wine, roast chestnuts, fried potatoes with bacon and a sweet, sugared-pastry dish cooked on large wooden rollers, I decided a beer was definitely in order. We had walked down towards the Charles Bridge in order for Eileen to buy a hat she had spotted in a shop a couple of day's previously, so after her purchase was complete a quick glance at Ewan Rail's CAMRA Good Beer Guide to Prague showed that Café Duende was close by, and what's more it was described as one of the best places in Prague to enjoy Bernard beers on draught.

Imagine my disappointment then on arriving, finding the place only half-lit and being told it wouldn't be opening until 4pm. The CAMRA  Guide had indicated otherwise, but as this was published back in 2007 it is now obviously becoming out of date. How about a new edition, CAMRA? As compensation, I brought a few bottles of Bernard beer, back with me - Svetly Lezak (pale), Jantarovy Lezak (amber) and Cerny Lezak (dark). Like their draught counterparts, they are unpasteurised, and I will enjoy drinking them over the fast approaching festive season.

I did promise not to relate a blow-by-blow account of our drinking, but no trip to Prague, and therefore no description of a visit, would be complete without a mention of U Fleku - reputed to be the oldest brew-pub in the world, and the Czech capital's most famous drinking establishment. We visited U Fleku on our second day in Prague, but it had not been our original choice of somewhere to eat. The beer hall at U Medviku (at the Little Bears), was packed out when we arrived, and there was no room to squeeze even the three of us in. The Little Bears ended up as Matthew's favourite Prague pub on our last visit, and I must admit the standard of food and drink there was really high.

Disappointed, we made our way through the maze of side streets to U Fleku, where despite its obvious popularity, there was space for us inside the first beer hall on the left. Despite its reputation as a "tourist trap", I have to report the service and the food were very good, whilst the rich, black, house-brewed lager was excellent.  When I first tried this beer, back in 1984, on my very first visit to Prague, I wasn't that keen on it, but I put that down to my taste-buds not being sufficiently matured at the time. When Matthew and I visited last year, I noticed  a slight lactic taste lurking in the background which, whilst not unpleasant, should probably not have been there, but may have been down to the house yeast. This time around, the lactic character had disappeared; the result an excellent full-bodied and very malty dark lager which was worth every Kc paid.

So there we have it, whilst U Fleku carries on in its timeless, traditional fashion, the beer scene in the rest of Prague is evolving fast. On our visit last year I sampled a well-hoped, 6.3% IPA at the Klasterni Brewery attached to the Strahov Monastery, and I also brought a bottle of the excellent 8.0% Pardubicky Porter back with me (I brought two bottles this time!). What with this, and the increasing availability of both unfiltered and unpasteurised beer (tankovna), the Czech capital remains an exciting place for the beer hunter.

Fuggles Beer Café

Fuggles, a famous variety of hops used in the brewing of traditional English ales, and named after Richard Fuggle of Brenchley, who introduced the hop back in 1875 after finding it growing wild in a hop garden in nearby Horsmonden. The village of Brenchley is roughly eight miles from where I live, but travel in a different direction and one reached the famous Spa town of Royal Tunbridge Wells. Here there is another Fuggles, in the form of Fuggles Beer Café, the latest addition to the Tunbridge Wells drinking scene. Fuggles has been open just over a week now, but when a group from West Kent CAMRA called in last Wednesday; it was only its sixth evening of opening. This is what we found:

Fuggles Beer Café occupies a former retail outlet towards the top end of Tunbridge Wells, just along from the town’s main Post Office and shopping centre. A page on Facebook had allowed local beer-loving enthusiasts to monitor the progress, over a period of several months, as the shop was converted from its previous use into a modern and functional looking bar. Despite having quite a narrow frontage, the bar space at Fuggles extends back a long way, in fact right to the rear of the premises, where there are some comfortable looking sofas for patrons to relax on. The functional feel is enhanced by the exposed duct work, and other utility services suspended below the ceiling. The serving area is approximately one third of the way down, on the right hand side. The bar counter is adorned by the usual hand pulls, whilst behind the bar there are ten anonymous-looking keg taps set, American-style, into the tiled rear wall. A large chalkboard behind the bar gives full details of all the draught beers on sale, both cask and keg.

There were four cask and ten keg beers on sale last Wednesday. The place was buzzing when I arrived, with a good mix of customers. After my spectacles had de-misted, I managed to locate my friends towards the rear of the bar, seated at a table. Some were already getting stuck into the three glass “tasting bats” that the pub offers. I opted for a refreshing pint of Otley 01 Gold to begin with, before moving on to the “craft keg” stuff. The “bats” fall into two different price bands, depending on the strength of the beer. For beers up to 5.0%, three third pint glasses will set you back £4.50; whilst above this level they work out at £5.50. Seeing as some for the craft beers were 9.0% abv, this was quite a good deal.

I went for three beers in the lower range to begin with, namely Kirkstall  Framboise, a refreshing 3.6% Raspberry beer, Wild Beer Scarlet Fever, a tasty 4.8% amber ale and Titanic Stout 4.5%, a beer I am familiar with in both cask and bottled form. All were good in their own right, with the Titanic exceptionally smooth and chocolate like, suggesting it was  dispensed by nitrogen-mixed gas. Later I moved on to the higher end of the spectrum, a choice which included two beers at 9%. One was Houblon Chouffe, a Belgian-style IPA, whilst the second was another Wild Beer Co brew called Ninkasi, a fruity Saison-style beer. In between I enjoyed a slightly weaker IPA; Devil's Rest IPA, from Burning Sky, which weighed in at just 7.0%!

It is early days yet, but it was good to see this exciting new venue so busy. Fuggles might seem a bit new at the moment, with a noticeably strong smell of paint last week, but to be fair the owners have been working around the clock to get the place ready on time. The management will soon be offering food,  in the form of locally sourced pies, sausage rolls and scotch eggs. With an eclectic range of interesting beers, and a good café-style atmosphere, Fuggles is a welcome addition to the increasingly diverse drinking scene in Tunbridge Wells. It will be interesting to see how it develops further over the coming months.

Larkins Porter at Last!

Last Friday I managed to sample, for the first time this year, one of my favourite, seasonal “winter” beers. At 5.2% abv, dark and full-bodied with lashings of scrumptious chocolate from the chocolate malt used in the grist, Larkins Porter is a beer whose appearance each November is eagerly awaited by its devotees. Every year, Larkins brewer and company owner Bob Dockerty, produces just two brews of this superb beer; one in mid-September, and the other towards the end of November, (round about now). Following brewing and primary fermentation, each brew is allowed to mature, in cask, for a minimum period of six weeks before it is released to trade. (During exceptionally cold and prolonged winters, I have known Bob to brew a third batch of Porter in January, but this is by far and away the exception).

Bob has been brewing Larkins beers for the best part of thirty years. The brewery is housed in a converted cow-shed at the family farm, on the edge of Chiddingstone, in a splendidly rural setting over-looking the valley of the River Eden. Three different strength bitters are produced: Traditional at 3.4%; Chiddingstone at 4.0% and Best at 4.4%. All are quite similar in character, and it is difficult to tell the last two apart. Traditional is the best seller by far, outselling the other two beers by a factor of 150%. This is hardly surprising given the rural location of the majority of Larkins outlets. Although just 3.4% in strength, “Trad”, as the beer is normally referred to, packs in a lot of taste for its low gravity, and is a fine session beer, and the ideal lunchtime pint. Being relatively low in alcohol, drinkers in local pubs can enjoy a couple of pints of Trad safe in the knowledge they will not be over the drink-drive limit for the journey home.

Porter, on the other hand, is a totally different beast. At more than one and a half times the strength of the Trad it is definitely a “one pint” beer for anyone contemplating getting behind the wheel.  Consequently very few pubs stock it, particularly those located in rural areas, and as for outlets in the towns, I know of only one pub that stocks the beer, and even then it is only on an intermittent basis.

Fortunately the Castle Inn, at Chiddingstone is one pub where a pint of Porter, during the winter months, is practically guaranteed. Situated just a few hundred yards along the road from the brewery, the Castle Inn is an impossibly attractive pub in an equally impossibly attractive village. The pub, the local tearooms plus the village shop and post office are all owned by the National Trust, who bought them in 1939, along with other nearby houses in Chiddingstone, as an almost perfect example of a Tudor one-street village. The Trust leases out these properties as businesses to suitable tenants, and after many years under one such leaseholder, the Castle changed hands a few years ago, and seems to be doing equally well under its new management.

Chiddingstone takes its name from the large sandstone outcrop in the village known as the 'Chiding Stone'. It’s also only 10 minutes drive from my workplace, and so a lunchtime visit is eminently practical. It was a grey, chilly late-November day when I arrived in Chiddingstone, and after parking the car just up the road, I made my way to the Castle. The building dates back to 1420, but it didn’t become an inn until three centuries later. Like many of the buildings in the village, it’s constructed in typical Kentish style, with half-timbered sides, gables and a red, tile-hung frontage and roof.

What I like about the place is the appearance that time has stood still. I say “appearance”, because in spite of its olde worlde feel, the Castle is bang up to date in many respects, not least of which is the high standard of food and drink which it offers. A free Wi-Fi connection is also available - other pubs please take note! Going back to the time-warp theme for a moment though, the Castle is that rarity these days in so much as it still has two separate, but linked bars.

I usually head for the public, as not only is this bar unspoilt; it is also where the village characters congregate. Bob Dockerty numbers amongst the locals here, but not normally until the day’s work at the brewery is finished. Other characters include farm workers, gamekeepers, foresters and other assorted “country folk”, but on Friday I had the bar to myself. I could hear a few diners along the passageway, in the saloon bar, but with no-one to talk to in the public I had to alert the bar staff to my presence by an effected cough and noisily moving one of the bar stools!

I had, of course, noted the Larkins Porter pump clip upon entering, so as soon as mine host appeared behind the bar I ordered a pint. It wasn’t cheap at £4.20 a pint, but then we are talking National Trust prices, plus all the atmosphere and ambience of an unspoilt 18^th Century inn. In addition, the beers in the Castle are priced according to their strength, so that a pint of Trad for example, may be some 50-60p cheaper.

I am pleased to report though, that the Porter was worth every penny, being smooth, chocolaty and malty, balanced by just the right degree of bitterness. As I said earlier, Larkins Porter is definitely a “one pint” beer for anyone getting behind the wheel. On top of that I had a busy afternoon’s work ahead of me, so with the taste and memory of this excellent beer still fresh in my head, I bade farewell to the Castle and returned to work. Fear not though, I will be back before the porter season is out!

A Pint Amongst Friends

In what will be the final part of this series of four posts, I want to pull together the separate strands of the previous three postings and come up with what to me is THE most important thing about the enjoyment of beer. Several respondents have already come close to mentioning it, and I myself have also hinted at it in my previous ramblings.

Basically what it all boils down to is, it doesn’t matter how good the beer is, if the setting/context/company/lack of company/ general ambience, or combination of any, or all of these factors isn’t right, then one’s enjoyment of the beer will not be as good as it would be if this were not the case. I could even throw in a few other factors, such as the beer not being served in the correct, or appropriate glass; the beer being served at the wrong temperature, or not poured correctly; the glass being dirty, in fact there is a host of different things which could ultimately spoil ones drinking experience.

If all this sounds a bit too OCD, then please accept my apologies. Given a first class beer, in tip-top condition, I wouldn’t let any individual one of these factors totally ruin my enjoyment of the beer, but when several combine at the same time, then it becomes a different story.

Many years ago, I was in a pub with a group of friends and as friends do, particularly when the beer is flowing freely, we were discussing a number of what at the time seemed quite deeply meaningful issues. One member of the group asked the question, “What, in your opinion, is the most satisfying and enjoyable experience in the world?”  He went round the table, and we all answered in turn. I don’t remember many of the answers, and I believe my own was rather facile, but one reply stuck in my mind. It seemed too simple a thing at the time, but the more I thought about it, not just immediately afterwards, but on and off over the passing years, the more it made sense, and the more I thought what a brilliant answer this particular friend had come up with.

My friend's answer to the question was, “A pint amongst friends.” Astonishingly simple, but oh so true, and as my drinking and general life experiences have increased, and become more enriched over the years, I often hark back to that night in the Plough & Harrow, at Oad Street near Sittingbourne, and my friend’s pertinent response. The only rider I might add to that answer would be, “In a decent pub, or otherwise pleasant and enjoyable surroundings.”

As I said in my last post, beer is the best long drink in the world, and a sociable drink at that. Sure we might enjoy a decent glass or two of beer at home, either stuck in front of the television, or else sitting in front of the computer. I quite often relax in this manner, in fact I’m enjoying a glass of beer now (Budvar Dark), as I write this post.  Even better though than enjoying that glass of beer alone, is enjoying it whilst sat down to dinner with ones family or with friends. The enjoyment of the beer, and the way it compliments the food, coupled with the  conversation which might be occurring, plus the general ambience of the whole situation, all combine to create a far more enjoyable experience than just sitting their alone, supping at the beer.

In a pub or bar environment the same rules apply. Having a good time, over a pint or three, whilst in the company of friends, really takes a lot of beating. Combine this with a decent, friendly pub (or bar), full of atmosphere and good vibes, and the whole experience shifts up a gear or two to a different level. In summer, the same could equally apply to sitting in a pub garden here in the UK, or enjoying a barbecue at home, or at a friend’s house. Further a field, enjoying the open air experience of a litre or two of bier in a traditional Bavarian Bier Garten, or on the terrace of a West Coast American brew-pub. Obviously a decent beer adds to the experience, but even a relatively common one can be almost as enjoyable under the right circumstances.

Many beer writers and beer hunters get a bit too carried away at times, in the constant pursuit of something different or new. Sometimes it pays to take a step or two back, enjoy the moment, or the occasion for what it is, and be thankful for what is in front of one. As another friend of mine used to say, as we chinked our glasses together at the start of an eagerly anticipated drinking session, “May these be the worst of your days!”.

Footnote: the photo at the top of a group of friends enjoying an evening in the pub, was taken nearly 30 years ago. See if you can spot yours truly?

Beer Choice

In a recent post I criticised licensees and the general public for “playing it safe”, with regard to the selection of beers that are available in the average pub. At the time I was undecided as to just who is to blame for the lack of choice in many pubs; and to a certain extent, I still am. Is it a case of publicans reacting to their customers’ lack of adventure? Or, is it that landlords and landladies prefer to stock a “safe” selection of well-known brands in the belief that their customers will feel more comfortable with beers they are familiar with?

Actually the reliance on tried and tested familiar brands of beer, which is so common to many of the nations’ pubs, is probably a combination, in varying degrees, of both factors. However, like many beer lovers, I am being a little churlish here, as even the most average pub today stocks a far greater range of both beers and other drinks than was the case when I first started drinking, in the early 1970’s. 

Back then your average pub would most likely have been tied to a brewery, and would have stocked almost exclusively beers from the owning brewery, with the notable exception perhaps of Guinness. The brewery’s own beers would have consisted of a mild, a bitter and a keg bitter on draught, with probably the full range of the brewery’s bottled beers (light, pale, brown, stout and sometimes a barley wine.) on a shelf behind the bar, and not in a fridge. Some pubs had started to sell Draught Guinness, but by no means all did, so the bottled version was the order of the day. Draught lager, in the form of a watered-down Heineken, alongside Harp Lager, brewed by a consortium of brewers, headed by Guinness, was probably more commonplace than draught stout. That was it in the majority of pubs, and there were certainly no guest beers and virtually nothing in the way of imported bottled beers available either.

How times have changed, with most pubs today stocking between one and three real ales, one or two keg beers, two or three international draught lager brands, various bottled beers – both domestic and imported, plus several different ciders – one of which will probably be on draught. Then of course, there has been the rise of the “beer exhibition” pub, where often upwards of six and sometimes even ten cask beers will be available. Fine, so long as they are all kept well, and the pub manages to shift them before they start to deteriorate.

Actually, I can remember similar pubs back in the early 70’s making a feature of selling a wide range of beers. These pubs were invariably free-houses, but the difference between these early “exhibition” pioneers and today’s establishments is that beers stocked in the former were, with a few notable exceptions, virtually always keg. Keg was modern, keg was easy to handle and with the considerable variation in quality of traditional cask beer during the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, keg was seen as the way forward. People actually liked it and even asked for it. People that is, who didn’t know any better, and here I have to confess to being one of them. For a young lad and his friends, all of whom had only recently started drinking, the lure of McEwan’s Export and Younger’s Tartan, available locally only at the Five Bells in Brabourne, a few miles outside Ashford, proved too strong. To us these were exciting new beers, which we hadn’t seen before, and to our young and inexperienced palates they were almost irresistible.

To return to the main thrust of the argument; we have a situation today where drinkers have a degree of choice that is without parallel, and yet still we cry out for more. CAMRA’s best selling Good Beer Guide has become more and more a Good “guest” Beer Guide; hardly surprising when there are now in excess of 1,000 breweries in the UK. And yet, leaving questions of quality aside for the time being, could there now be too much choice?

The dramatic increase in the number of new breweries and the large number of different beers available is mirrored elsewhere in our consumer society. Take a walk down the aisles of any large supermarket and it is quickly evident there is a vast array of different foodstuffs and ingredients available to today’s shoppers, giving and un-paralleled degree of choice that would have been unthinkable even 20 years ago. With so many different choices available to consumers there is a degree of “information overload” which ironically leads to a situation of, “more variety, less choice”.

As in the supermarket, so in the pub, and when faced with a bank of hand pumps, all adorned with an array of unfamiliar pump clips, many drinkers end up confused or even totally bewildered. Is it any wonder then that many will just opt for something they know, especially when they are unable to decide which of the myriad of different beers to go for, or they feel self-conscious whilst standing at the bar trying to make their minds up as to which beer to have. Despite counting myself as fairly knowledgeable about beer, I have been in similar situations when confronted with a totally alien display of different pump clips. (Hint, landlords and landladies, please can we have more use of legible chalk boards, or even printed menus, which give us drinkers some proper details about unfamiliar “guest” ales on sale in your pubs? Things like style of beer, strength, basic tasting notes, who brews the beer and where are they based!)

In response to my earlier post about “playing it safe”, fellow blogger the Pub Curmudgeon replied that “I don't think you can really blame drinkers for preferring to stick to the tried and trusted. After all, lager, stout and smooth drinkers do, so why shouldn't cask drinkers too?” He has a point and I know several CAMRA members who eschew the new wave of “Golden Ales” with their American hopped, citrus-loaded flavours, and stick doggedly to traditional “Brown Bitters” which they know and trust. One member, who I know well, won’t touch anything dark, thereby denying himself the delights of mild, old ale, porter and stout!

To take this “narrow-mindedness” with regard to beer a stage further, an even more extreme example can be seen in the group of drinkers who attend the Kent Beer Festival every year, but then spend their whole time there drinking Shepherd Neame! This is in spite of the enormous variety of beers available at the Kent Festival. Perverse in the extreme, or horses for courses? Whatever your view, whilst this situation appears odd, it is not much different to what goes on at the grand-daddy of all beer festivals – Munich’s Oktoberfest.  It is perhaps not widely acknowledged in this country that at the most famous beer festival in the world, there are only six different beers available, and all of these are brewed in the same style. (By decree, only Munich’s “Big-Six” brewers, Augustiner, Hacker-Pschorr, Hofbräu, Lowenbräu, Paulaner and Spaten are permitted to have tents at Oktoberfest, and all offer a specially brewed, Märzen-style beer, with an abv of around 6%). Once seated in one of the tents, and visitors NEED to be seated in order to be served with a beer, there is not much incentive to move on and try the beers in one of the other tents. So in a strange kind of way, our Shep’s lovers at the Kent Festival are not so different from say, Hacker-Pschorr devotees at Oktoberfest.

Choice then, whether it is too little or too much, can sometimes detract from one of the chief pleasures of beer. Apart from the obvious attraction that a good beer tastes good and a great beer tastes even better, beer is a sociable drink; in fact it is often described as the “best long drink in the world”. This leads me on to the final part of this particular thread, and one which I will be discussing in greater detail next time. I am referring to the occasion or setting in which beer is drunk, as this can often be just as important and rewarding as the appreciation of the taste and the overall appeal of the beer itself. See you next time.

Beer Quality

My two most recent posts touched on the related subjects of beer quality and beer choice, and these are areas I want to explore further. In this post I will look at quality, whilst in the subsequent one I will examine the issue of choice.

Those of us who enjoy the odd pint or three of cask-conditioned ale (commonly known as “Real Ale”), will be only too aware of just how important quality can be. Most beers consumed in the pub environment, are brewery-conditioned, and as such require little in the way of further attention once they arrive at the pub. Cask-conditioned beer, on the other hand, are “living” beers in so much as they reach the pub in an immature state and require a further period of fermentation (conditioning) in the pub cellar before they can be served.  This maturation allows condition to develop in the beer. By condition I mean dissolved carbon-dioxide gas, which when present at the correct level, gives the beer that pleasant slightly prickly feel on the tongue. Without it, the beer would be flat and lifeless.

 

The conditioning period also allows the remaining yeast distributed throughout the beer to drop out of suspension, so that the beer ends up bright and sparkling. Get this process right, and the beer can be amongst the best you have ever tasted. Get it wrong and the end result is a flat, stale, cloudy pint which not only reeks of old socks but is also sufficient to put a novice off ever trying a pint of real ale again!

Seasoned real ale drinkers know this, and given the often unknown factors which come into play here, reluctantly accept it. Brewers also know that despite their best efforts in the brewery to produce a first class pint, the final part of the process is outside of their control. This is why brewers both large and small, have invested a lot of time and money by running courses in cellarmanship for pub landlords and landladies.

Unfortunately, a lot of pubs these days are not owned by breweries, but by Pub Companies instead, and many of these organisations are not so much interested in teaching their tenants about looking after beer, as they are in screwing every last penny out of them. It also has to be said that many new entrants to the licensed trade are rather wet behind the ears when it comes to looking after beer, and as some don’t even drink the stuff, how can they possibly know whether they are letting a good, a bad or an indifferent pint over the bar when you the customer walk into their pub and order a beer?

Fortunately there are industry-led organisations such as Cask Marque, who provide training and advice to publicans and bar staff, so all is not lost. Cask Marque, and individual breweries, not only teach licensees how to look after cask-beer properly, but also stress the importance of fast turnover. Because traditional casks are open to the air, it is essential that the beer within them is consumed within a few days. Three days is ideal, five will just about be ok, but anything above this and there is a serious risk of flat, oxidised, off-flavoured beer which is sufficient reason for a seasoned drinker to hand his or her pint back and,  as I said above, enough to put a newbie off real ale for life!

That’s cask beer dealt with, so what about brewery-conditioned “keg” beers? Surely these are foolproof? Well, not always. True they are much more robust compared to cask-conditioned beers; there is no “live” yeast to worry about, and as they are stored in sealed containers under a blanket of CO2 gas at all times, they are not exposed to the oxidising effects of the air. Even so they can still be spoilt by careless handling and sloppy hygiene practices. The pipes, which deliver the beer from the keg to the bar tap, still require cleaning as despite keg beers being both filtered and pasteurised, there is still a tiny amount of residual yeast present which can, over time, lodge in the beer lines and associated fittings, and multiply so that eventually off-tastes and even haziness can appear within the beer.

Then there’s the vexed question of temperature. The Australians and, to a lesser extent, the Americans have a lot to answer for in this respect. Nobody likes a warm beer, and the myth that the English drink warm beer is one which thankfully has now been well and truly laid to rest. However, whilst a warm beer is an unpleasant drink, an ice-cold beer is equally repellent. Although lager-style beers are designed to be drunk cold, they should not be drunk at a temperature that is so cold it makes one’s teeth rattle. On a visit to the historic Pilsner Urquell Brewery, in the city of Pilsen last summer, I was surprised to see on the wall of the brewery restaurant a prominent illuminated digital thermometer, displaying the temperature of 7°C with a notice underneath proclaiming that all beer served on the premises, was stored and served at a constant temperature of 7°C. This apparently, is the optimum temperature for the enjoyment of Pilsner-style beers. Go much above this figure and the beer starts to taste flabby and warm, but go too far in the opposite direction and the beer loses its subtle flavours as well as its aroma. Try telling that to the clowns who came up with the concept of “Extra Cold”! Actually they are probably the same people responsible for the daft adverts for Fosters, think - “Well you wouldn’t want a warm one would you?”

My answer is “No, of course I wouldn’t want a warm lager, but then neither would I want one which is so icy cold and close to freezing that it sets my teeth on edge, and is totally devoid of any flavour!” Fortunately this daft fad, which in JDW outlets at least, also involved a digital thermometer showing the temperature hovering around freezing point, seems to have died a death. I don’t recall seeing it Wetherspoons recently, but I may be mistaken.

Cask-conditioned, real ales should be served at a slightly higher temperature than lagers. Being top-fermented, they need to be kept and served at a temperature that reflects the slightly warmer conditions they were fermented at. It used to be said that the optimum temperature for serving top-fermented, cask-conditioned beers was 10° -15° C, with 13° C the ideal. In recent years, especially with the advent of the paler, hoppy Golden Ale style of beer, the optimum temperature seems to have dropped to 11° C. Again, Wetherspoons seem to have led the way here, with not only adequate cellar cooling, now virtually de rigueur for pub cellars, but also with insulated cellar pipes and jacketed cooling around the hand pump cylinder at the point of dispense.

I must admit that being a little “old school”, and being brought up on beer which was served at the older, slightly higher temperature, chilled cask beer took a bit of getting used to, but now it is something I welcome, especially during the summer months.

To sum up then, in order to satisfy even the most discerning of consumers, the beer must be bright and clear so to look appealing in the glass. It must be served at the correct temperature, with the correct amount of condition and must not have any off-flavours or nasty tastes and smells. In short, it should be presented and served to the customer in the condition its creator (in this instance the brewer), intended. It’s not hard is it??