Pub of the Year 2017

In one of the closest competitions seen in recent years the 'West Kent CAMRA Pub of the Year' has been awarded to Fuggles Beer Café in Tunbridge Wells. Fuggles came top in 3 out of the 5 categories by which contenders are rated, having been highly placed previously, including coming in as runner up last year.

Since opening in November 2013, Fuggles Beer Café has, under the watchful eye of its proprietor and founder Alex Greig, helped transform the local "Beer Scene", particularly in Tunbridge Wells, by serving a wide range of quality cask ales and craft beers. This combined with high standards of customer service and impeccable staff knowledge in relation to the beers, ciders and artisan spirits on offer, makes Fuggles a worthy winner of this award.

The runner up was the Windmill, at Sevenoaks Weald; the pub which has won the award for the last three years running. However, licensees Matt & Emma shouldn't be too disappointed at coming second; having set new standards right from the start. If anything, their Runner Up Award in an extremely close competition, only serves to reinforce their ability to maintain them.

For the benefit of local readers, but also for those from other parts of the country who might know the area, the full results for the competition are as follows:

Top Six Pubs - West Kent CAMRA Awards

1. Fuggles, Tunbridge Wells
2. Windmill, Sevenoaks Weald
3. Halfway House, Brenchley
4. Dovecote, Capel
5. Queens Arms, Cowden Pound
6. Crown, Groombridge

Most Improved pub: Toad Rock, Rusthall

Cider Pub of the year: The Pantiles Tap

Club of the year: Constitutional Club, Tunbridge Wells.

Before going any further it's worth mentioning that organising inspections for this type of contest has always proved difficult for the branch; even though West Kent CAMRA has been running a Pub of the Year competition for as long as anyone can remember.

Four years ago I wrote at length about these difficulties, and described how, over the years, various different approaches had been tried; each with their own inherent drawbacks. So after holding postal ballots (remember the good old fashioned Royal Mail?) and mini-bus trips, in recent years the branch has adopted a different approach by asking members to visit all six pubs on the short list, in their own time and under their own steam, and scoring them appropriately.

This too has not been straight forward, and this year the number of participants who managed to get round all six pubs, within the allotted time, did not reach double figures. The branch committee are acutely aware of this and suspect the poor show was due to the many and varying constraints on members’ time. Over the coming year, the branch will be examining suggestions for a more encompassing approach, but I don't think there's an easy answer to this.

None of this of course, should detract from Fuggles well-deserved success, and those of us living in Tonbridge are eagerly anticipating the opening of a branch of Fuggles in the town. Work has already started on converting the old Bonners Carpet shop, at the north end of the High Street, into Fuggles – Tonbridge, with an anticipated opening in early June.

Who knows, perhaps in a few years’ time Tonbridge Fuggles will steal a march on its Tunbridge Wells sibling, and claim the crown for itself?

Westerham "Tap Takeover" at Old Fire Station

I have written before about Tonbridge’s Old Fire Station, a facility which offers refreshments, beer, and cider along with space for holding communal events. The latter normally take the form of pop-up restaurants where some of the country's finest chefs present their food offerings in the informal surroundings of this atmospheric old building.

The other type of events the Old Fire Station is known for are “Tap Takeovers”, where a local brewery will take over the facilities for a long weekend (typically Thursday – Saturday), in order to showcase its beers. Several breweries have done this during the past 16 months that the OFS has been open to the public, and this weekend it was the turn of Westerham Brewery.

The present Westerham Brewery was established in 2004 by former city-trader, Robert Wicks, thereby bringing brewing back to the historic town of Westerham and reviving memories of the Black Eagle Brewery, which closed in 1965. The sign of Westerham Ales was once a common sight outside many pubs in West Kent, and indeed further afield.  Unfortunately a series of mergers and takeovers led to the closure, and subsequent demolition of the Black Eagle Brewery, which stood on the western side of Westerham, and that would have been the end of the story were it not for the actions of the company’s head brewer.

Following the takeover of the Black Eagle,  first by London-based Taylor Walker in 1948 and then the subsequent takeover of Taylor Walker by Ind Coope in 1959, the head brewer deposited freeze dried samples of the brewery’s yeasts with the National Collection of Yeast Cultures, fearing that they might be lost forever. 50 years later, the current Westerham Brewery acquired the sole rights to these yeast strains from Carlsberg UK, the successors of Ind Coope, and revived these yeast cultures.  

Twelve years on from its formation, Westerham Brewery produces a wide range of respected beers, including a core range of seven cask brands and an equal number of seasonal varieties. A small number of “craft” beers are also produced, which include a couple of lagers. Many of the company’s beers are also available in bottled form. In addition, Westerham have two tied pubs.

Since their inception in 2004, the company has brewed its beers at Grange Farm near Crockham Hill, but in a few weeks time will be moving into a new, purpose-built facility on the edge of Westerham, thereby returning brewing to the town, after a gap of over 50 years.

I am obviously familiar with Westerham Brewery beers, having drunk them in pubs throughout west Kent. I have also visited the brewery, but it was good to see them being showcased at Tonbridge Old Fire Station. There were six cask and three “craft” beers on sale, when I popped in early on Saturday afternoon. The place wasn’t packed, but there were a steady stream of customers- mainly family groups with young children. The staff behind the bar told me the previous two evenings had been busy, and they were expecting a good crowd for the final session, where there would be a selection of meats available, barbecued outside in the yard.

I sampled a couple of the beers; Family Stout - a 4.5% ABV cask beer, based on an original Westerham Brewery recipe from the 1930's, and Bohemian Rhapsody - a 5.0% "craft keg" Pilsner, flavoured with Saaz hops from the Zatec region of the Czech Republic. So one modern beer and one from 70 years ago, and both good in their own right.

As I have written before, the Old Fire Station has proved a hit with local townsfolk, adding variety by presenting quality food and drink to Tonbridge.  In May, the venue will play host to a cider festival, which will form part of the Tonbridge Food & Drink Festival. Watch this space for further details.

Last pint before the train home

Last Wednesday evening I was in London for a beer-related event (more about that in a later post). The function took place at a pub in Ladbroke Grove; a part of London which is not particularly easy to reach for those of us arriving in the capital by train, from Kent.

After enduring 45 minutes on the Underground, from Waterloo East, I was determined my homeward journey would be both easier, and more pleasant. Fortunately some forward research had revealed a bus option, and furthermore whilst walking up from Ladbroke Grove tube station, to the pub in question, I noticed a bus stop just two minutes away.

I took advantage of this on my way home, and after leaving the pub just after 10pm, I only had a few minutes to wait before a number 23 bus came along, going all the way to Liverpool Street, via Paddington and Charing Cross. I of course, jumped on. Now I don’t know about you, but there is something about travelling by bus which beats being squeezed into an underground train, dozens of feet below the city. A bus allows you to see where you are going, and to take note of the constantly changing surroundings as the journey progresses.

As the time was well past rush-hour, the traffic was light and I enjoyed my journey through the relatively quiet central London streets. As the bus turned down Haymarket and towards Trafalgar Square, I realised there was sufficient time to jump off for a quick pint of Sam’s in the Chandos. I mentioned this imposing pub in my recent post about Samuel Smith's, alluding to its closeness to Charing Cross station; the central London terminus for trains to and from my part of Kent. I was feeling thirsty; due more to the food I’d eaten than the beer I drunk earlier, so the prospect of a nice cool, refreshing pint of Old Brewery Bitter was really appealing.

The bus driver was a little surprised when I pressed the bell to alight, as I’d asked him when I boarded if he was going past Charing Cross. He chuckled when I told him I fancied a pint before my catching my train, and wished me a pleasant evening.

I walked across the more or less deserted Trafalgar Square; something I haven’t done in ages. The fountains were shut off for the night, or possibly for winter, and apart from a couple of smooching young lovers, and some dare-devil BMX riders, I had the lions and Nelson all to myself.

The Chandos too was winding down, but there was still a half hour before my train was due to depart. I walked up to the bar and ordered a pint of Old Brewery Bitter, marvelling as the creamy looking, post-pull beer cleared in the glass.  £3.10 a pint was a little more than my last visit, but still a bargain for central London. I made my way to the far end of the pub and sat at one of the strategically placed, high “posing tables” taking in the view back along the pub, whilst making short work of my pint.

The beer was excellent (NBBS 3.5), and I was really glad I’d taken the decision to call in. I caught my intended train and settled down for the journey back to Kent. I wasn’t quite so glad the following morning about stopping off for that final pint, but I am pleased to report both the Chandos and the Old Brewery Bitter were as good as ever!

What no micro-pub?

One thing which is peculiar to this part of Kent; certainly when compared to other parts of the county, is the complete absence of any micro-pubs. Given that the micro-pub “phenomena” originated in Kent, there is not a single example amongst the four towns (Edenbridge, Sevenoaks, Tonbridge and Tunbridge Wells), which make up this corner of West Kent.

Our nearest micro-pubs are in Gravesend, Maidstone, and Petts Wood, but none of these destinations are exactly on the doorstep, so unless inhabitants of this locality, fancy embarking on a bus or a train journey for their "micro-pub fix", they are well and truly stuffed.

Tonbridge came quite close to getting a micro, a couple of years ago, but after taking the option of a lease on a vacant small shop at the north end of the High Street, and obtaining a Premises License, the potential proprietor got cold feet and aborted the project. The former shop is now an art gallery, and as far as I am aware is doing OK: not that Tonbridge is known as a centre for fine art!

Fortunately we will soon be getting our own branch of Fuggles, ironically not too far away from the aborted micro-pub. The Tonbridge Fuggles though, will operate as a full-blown pub, along the same lines as the highly successful original Tunbridge Wells Beer Cafe, and not as a micro-pub.

Something tells me I ought to be disappointed by the lack of a true micro-pub in the area, but strangely enough I am not; and whilst I think the basic concept is sound, I don’t see it as a panacea for the ills currently afflicting the pub trade. My micro-pub experiences have largely been confined to Thanet and Gravesend, and whilst I have visited some excellent establishments, particularly in East Kent, I have been in one or two real duds.

I feel that the guidelines set out by the Micro-Pub Association, are too rigid; even though I accept they are laid out that way in order to encourage a particular clientele and discourage various other sorts. I am also not a huge fan of the really tiny ones, where if someone wants to visit the Gents, everyone has to make way for them; or if you turn round too quickly you are likely to knock someone’s pint out of their hands!

Also, whilst I am normally quite a gregarious individual, there are times when I prefer my own company, and want to sit quietly and read a book, or just watch the world go by. I know what you are saying – don’t go into such places when you’re feeling grumpy or unsociable, and of course you are right, but as a micro-pub will often provide the best selection and most unusual selection of beers within a town, there is sometimes nowhere else suitable to go.

Micro-pubs are also known for not doing food; certainly nothing beyond basic snacks such as filled rolls, pork pies or scotch eggs. Again, for many people, this is a big plus point, and as someone who frequents pubs a lot less frequently than I once did, it’s not really incumbent on me to dictate the food offering. 

So should the famous Herne – Butcher’s Arms model remain the gold standard for a true micro, or is here scope for enhancement and improvement? Personally, whilst I would like the emphasis to remain on locally sourced, cask-ales, I see no reason why a couple of slightly more adventurous “key-keg” beers could not be stocked. Also, why not stock a couple of genuine, continental Pilsners, which would keep lager lovers happy, without attracting the Fosters and Carling “lout” drinkers. I also don’t see a problem with offering a small range of quality malt whiskies or artisan gins and vodkas. Then there are the wine drinkers of course, and here something rather better than Cash & Carry, “bag-in-a-box” plonk, wouldn’t go amiss.

On reflection, I would leave the food offering alone, as not only would it be impractical, it would also be financially unviable, to employ a chef. In addition, most micro-pubs aren’t large enough (yes I know the clue is in the name) and besides, the smell of cooking is enough to put many drinkers off.

So perhaps with a bit of tweaking, the “enhanced” micro-pub could be the way forward. Or perhaps not!

The ideal strength of beer?

Over many years of beer drinking; four decades to be precise, I’ve often pondered the question of “What is the ideal strength for a beer?” Strength, or alcoholic content to be precise, depends of course on the type of beer; but whilst strong ales, barley wines, quadrupels, Doppelbocks and Imperial Stouts all have their place, so do light, low-strength “quaffing beers”, especially on a hot summer’s day.

For the purpose of this discussion I am talking primarily about mid-strength beers; those you would be happy to have a session on in the local pub or bar. When I first started drinking the strength of a beer was treated almost as classified information. Brewers were not obliged by law to disclose the alcohol content of their beers, so therefore chose not to. This might seem unbelievable to today’s drinkers, but it’s a fact. 

Of course seasoned drinkers instinctively knew which beers were stronger than others, and it didn’t take that much gumption to realise that a pale ale was stronger than a light ale, a best or special bitter was stronger than an ordinary bitter. Terms such as Export also indicated a higher or premium strength beer, but in terms of alcohol by volume, no-one had much of a clue. I certainly didn’t, and like most drinkers of the time, as long as the beer tasted OK, that was fine by me.

It took the efforts of organisations such as CAMRA, along with those of the Consumers’ Organisation, to change things. The figures published initially, related to Original Gravity (OG); basically a measure of the amount of fermentable material present in a beer PRIOR to fermentation. The higher the OG, the stronger, in theory, the end product, but this depends on the degree of attenuation (how much of the malt sugars present in the wort, are converted into alcohol during the fermentation process).

Whilst Original Gravity is a useful indicator of strength, a much more accurate and reliable indicator is that of alcohol by volume (ABV); and that is the system in use today across much of the world. Even the Americans appear to have adopted it, after ditching their previous measure of alcohol by weight.

It now seems inconceivable that this information was not available to previous generations of drinkers, and it is good to know that CAMRA played a leading role in bringing this issue to the fore.

So on to the question of the “ideal strength”. The conclusion I have reached after 40 years enjoyment of beer, is an ABV in the region of 4.0 – 5.0%. There are many beers either side of this band which are both good and enjoyable, but when it comes to quaffability, those beers much above 5.5% are more for sipping than for quaffing, whilst those at 3.5% or below, tend to be thin and lacking in body.

I cut my teeth drinking the latter type of beers, in particular the late and much lamented Fremlins Bitter (3.5%) and Shepherd Neame Master Brew (3.7%). I later enjoyed beers such as Boddingtons and Young’s Ordinary; both in the same strength range. This was because, back in the late 1970’s-early 1980’s, there weren’t many beers in the UK (certainly on draught) in the upper 4 percent bracket, and with a few honourable exceptions (Fuller’s ESB, Ruddle’s County, St Austell Hick’s Special Draught), virtually nothing in the mid five percent range.

The strange thing is that most continental beers (especially Pilsner-type ones), are brewed to a strength of around 5.0% ABV; in fact this figure is very much the European norm for your average quaffing beer. It may seem incredible now, but like the non-disclosure of strength, a beer with an ABV of five percent was considered too strong for British tastes; so much so that when, in the late 1960’s, Whitbread began brewing Heineken under licence, a special lower strength version was brewed for the UK market.

The Dutch company took a lot of convincing that a version of their beer, with a strength of around 3.4%, would sell in the UK; especially as the rest of the world took the normal 5.0% beer, and it took the intervention of no lesser person than Colonel Whitbread to convince Freddy Heineken that British drinkers just weren’t used to five percent beers.

Following Whitbread’s success with Heineken, other large UK brewers started producing low strength versions of famous continental brands. Drinkers were therefore treated to three percent “copies” of Carlsberg and Tuborg to go with the home-grown 3.4% Harp – introduced by Guinness in consortium with a number of other UK brewers.

Anyone who remembers these “bastardised” Continental “lagers” will recall they tasted like “gnat’s piss”; small wonder that the habit of adding a shot of lime (Lager and Lime), or a dash of lemonade (Lager Top), was popular with many drinkers. It wasn’t until I embarked on a round Europe train trip; a journey which took in Holland, Denmark and Germany amongst other countries), that I discovered lager could actually be enjoyable!

Back home and British beers were slowly increasing in strength. The welcome increase in sales of beers such as Fuller’s ESB and Ruddle’s County, following favourable publicity from CAMRA regarding their strength, spawned a whole range of higher strength beers.  For example, Eldridge Pope introduced the higher strength Royal Oak, whilst Courage brought back the legendary, but virtually extinct, Director’s Bitter. Allied Breweries response was a new beer in the form of Draught Burton Ale; essentially a cask version of bottled Double Diamond.

It is interesting that following the successful marketing of proper strength versions of well-known international brands, such as Carlsberg, Heineken and Stella Artois (re-assuringly expensive!), that 4.0% brands such as Carling and Fosters should prove so popular. Now we have four percent versions of Becks and Stella, proving that perhaps Colonel Whitbread was right after all!

My favourite four percent beer is Harvey’s Sussex Best; undeniably a classic and one of the best quaffing beers available, with a perfect blend of sweet juicy malt and dry earthy hops. Equally my favourite quaffing lager is Pilsner Urquell; a 4.3 % beer with a base of slightly caramelised malt, resulting from the triple decoction mash used in the brewing process, combined with the finest Saaz aroma hops from the Zatec region of the Czech Republic.

As I mentioned earlier, beers much above 5.5% ABV tend to be less for quaffing and more for sipping, and I find there really is a definite dividing line above this strength. For example, the bottled version of Fuller’s ESB, which weighs in at 5.9%, tastes sweet and slightly cloying compared to the draught version which is just 0.4% weaker at 5.5%. Similarly, the 6.0% beers produced by most of the large Munich brewers for Oktoberfest, also taste heavy and sweet (you can also taste the alcohol), especially when compared to the normal 5.0% Helles beers, available for the rest of the year.

The advent of “craft beer” has led to even stronger beers, with the Americans taking things to ridiculous levels with their nine or ten percent Double or even Triple IPA’s, to say nothing of their Imperial Stouts. I might enjoy the odd glass of these super-strength "hop-monsters", but they are not really suited for a session in a pub!

In the end it’s all about horses for courses, but for me, anything between four and five percent is just about right.

Town & country pubs in Munich

Gasthof Hinterbrühl - in summer

I said in my introductory post about Munich that visiting in winter would give us the opportunity of exploring some different places to enjoy a drink in, and despite the relatively short time we spent in the city, we managed to do this.

We didn’t touch down in Munich until some time around 5pm, due to the late departure of our flight. We then took the Lufthansa coach from the airport, and arrived in the city centre about 40 minutes later. Our hotel was just a 10 minute walk from the main station (Hauptbahnhof), but by the time we’d checked in and unpacked, it was probably nearer 7pm.

Altes Hackerhaus

We decided to stay local for the evening and to head for an establishment called the Altes Hackerhaus, which was about a 20 minute walk from our hotel. The pub occupies a corner location and looks rather non-descript from the outside; almost as though it is hiding behind a modern façade. We entered and stepped into a lobby running towards the rear of the pub, with a couple of rooms leading off to the left. There were also steps leading down to a cellar bar.

We chose the front room on the ground floor, as this appeared the least crowded, and waited to be shown to our table by the matronly-looking waitress. The room had a real old world feel to it, characterised by wood-panelled walls and ceilings, and there were plenty of old portraits, photographs and old advertising material adorning the walls. Much of the latter related to either the Hacker or the Pschorr breweries, which is not surprising as the site was the original home of the brewery which was started by the Hacker family in 1738. Following a fire in 1825, which partially destroyed the building, the brewery moved elsewhere. There had been cooperation between the Hacker and Pschorr breweries for a long time, so it was not surprising when the two companies merged in 1972, to form Hacker-Pschorr. Today the company is part of the Paulaner Group.

We ordered a glass of Helles each and also chose the same thing on the menu; namely the roast pork in gravy, accompanied by one of those spherical spongy potato dumplings, so beloved by Bavarians. There was also an accompanying side dish of sauerkraut. It felt good to be back in Munich after a two and a half year absence, and we were in no rush to leave this homely and comfortable pub, so after finishing our meal we stayed for a further beer.

Typical Bavarian fayre

Eventually we paid our tab and then headed along Sendlinger Straße towards Marienplatz. The large square in front of the town hall (Rathaus), seemed strangely quiet and missing the usual throng of tourists. It was then that we first really noticed the difference between summer and wintertime in Munich, and realised we rather liked it. We decided another beer was in order before returning to our hotel, so we headed for the famous Nürnberger Bratwurst Glöckl am Dom; a one hundred year old pub in the shadow of Munich’s Dom or cathedral; the Frauenkirche with its distinctive twin towers and their onion-domed tops, which resemble a pair of massive pepper-pots.

Nürnberger Bratwurst Glöckl am Dom - in summer

The Glöckl am Dom reminded me of an old English pub, perhaps one owned by that most traditional of English brewers, Samuel Smiths. The place was fairly quiet, but it was Sunday and with work the following day for many people, this was perhaps not surprising. We had no trouble in finding a seat in the front part of the pub, and then waited for the waiter to bring us a beer each.

The Augustiner Helles, served direct by gravity, from a wooden cask, was a fitting beer to end the night on; but not before we had soaked up some of the atmosphere of this tranquil old pub. There was dark wood everywhere, covering both the walls and the ceilings. The lamps hanging from the latter were not really sufficient to light the room, but the dimness added to the atmosphere, creating the perfect environment in which to relax. There was a further room at the rear, but as the pub’s remaining patrons slowly began making their way home, we and a handful of others virtually had the place to ourselves, as the photograph shows.

Glöckl am Dom - interior

All good things come to an end, and resisting the temptation of one more beer, we headed back to our hotel. The evening had provided a good welcome back to Munich, and had also provided the opportunity of experiencing the city in a different light, at a different time of year. Leaving aside the two beer halls we visited the following two evenings, there was one more chance to experience a traditional Bavarian pub; but this time it was a country one, and it took place during the morning of our last day in the city.

Gasthof Hinterbrühl is a little way out of the city, and overlooks the River Isar. It is quite easy to get there and involves taking the U3 U Bahn line to Thalkirchen (the stop for Munich zoo) and then a bus (No 135) to Hinterbrühl itself. During summer it is nice to get off at Camping Platz (the stop before), and then walk through the woods, along the canalised section of the river to Hinterbrühl. 

Schnitzel and chips - small portion

On this visit though, we took the bus all the way. The pub is an attractive, yellow-painted building, constructed in the style of an Alpine retreat, and was formerly a stopping point for loggers transporting timber by water, from the forests high up in the hills. I noticed the date 1807 on the ornately decorated beer glasses, so whether this is the date the present pub was established, or the date the actual building was constructed, is uncertain. Whatever the answer, a visit here is well worthwhile, as I am about to describe.

Matt and I had been to Hinterbrühl on a couple of previous occasions, but we had always sat out in the beer garden, enjoying the sunshine and the beer in equal measure. During the winter months the beer garden is naturally closed, so our recent visit afforded the opportunity for a look inside. We arrived shortly after midday, and apart from a small wedding party, occupying the end room, the place seemed rather quiet. The interior had obviously had something of a makeover, as the bright contemporary look was rather different from the extensive dark wood-panelling I had seen in photos of the pub. For the history buffs amongst us it is worth recording that this guest house was used, from time to time, as a convenient and tucked-away, out-of-town meeting place by senior Nazi officials during the early days of World War II. The likes of Goering, Goebbels, Himmler and even Hitler himself would gather here on occasion, away from prying eyes and listening ears. I wonder if they bothered  signing the guest book!

Standing guard

We made a beeline for the corner table and the waiter brought the menus over. The beer was from Hacker-Pschorr, and the food offering too was solidly Bavarian. We all opted for Schnitzel with chips, although I went for the smaller-size one. Both sized portions came with mountains of chips though, and even the two boys struggled to finish them. Although we were tempted to stay for another beer, Matt and Will were still feeling the effects of their over-indulgence at the Hofbräuhaus the night before. 

We paid our bill and left, but not before taking a nostalgic peek at the beer garden. Things were under wraps, awaiting the arrival of spring, which surely cannot be too far away now. Standing guard over it all was the old stuffed bear, looking out over the tables below from the balcony above the Schänke; the serving hatch where, in a few months’ time, the beer will once again be flowing freely.

A slippery slope?

I’m a little surprised that other writers haven’t picked up on last week's launch, by Fuller’s of an un-filtered, keg version of their flagship ale, London Pride. Described as the company as “the biggest beer launch in a generation”, Fuller’s have unashamedly pitched the new beer at the burgeoning “Craft Beer” market, and believe the new version of London Pride will open up the brand to younger consumers.

London Pride Unfiltered is brewed to the same recipe as cask London Pride, and maintains its current 4.1% ABV. It is then dry-hopped with Target hops for “added character and flavour”, before being centrifuged. The beer is not filtered or pasteurised, and Fuller’s claim this will maintain the taste, complexity and character of the beer, and will leave it as “natural as possible.”

This new variant on a classic beer, will be delivered in 30 litre kegs, and will be served at a teeth-numbing 4 - 6 degrees centigrade (ouch!). The result is a hazy, hoppy, tasty beer in a keg which, according to the company, “Will deliver the quality and flavour consumers expect from a Fuller’s beer.”

London Pride Unfiltered was launched at Craft Beer Rising, in the former Truman Brewery in London’s East End. It marks the first time, since its launch in 1959, that the London Pride name and recipe has been used to diversify the range, and offer a markedly different interpretation to Fuller’s best-selling cask ale.

Using typical marketing speak, a spokesman for the brewery said, “London Pride in cask is a truly great beer and cask ale is and always will be the backbone of Fuller’s beer range. Our excellent brewing team has taken the same great recipe and, by dry hopping the beer at the end, created a beer, in keg, that has balance, flavour and is true to the character of any Fuller’s beer.”

Fuller’s head brewer, Georgina Young, added: “Like London Pride, it still tastes great when you are on your third pint and it’s creating this balance that takes real skill. By only using a centrifuge, we get a hazy beer but retain additional flavour, to give London Pride Unfiltered more of the traditional character that you have in the cask beer than in the conventional London Pride keg version. I’m sure that even those with the hoppiest of taste buds will appreciate such a beautifully smooth and tasty addition to their repertoire.”

I’m not sure what’s meant by that last sentence, and I’m not sure about the whole idea. For starters, it seems strange to leave the beer looking hazy, as surely centrifuging should remove suspended yeast and proteins? I suspect the haziness is a deliberate ploy, to appeal to craft aficionados, used to cloudy pints, and I do question the science behind this.

Before condemning the new beer out of hand, I will at least try a few pints; even though 4 - 6° C is rather on the chilly side for English ale! So if Fuller’s want to invite me for a comparative tasting, they know where to find me!