Christmas 2024

It’s the evening of December 25^th and Christmas – the so-called “big day” is nearly over. As usual, it’s been an enormous fuss over what is, just another day, although as many commentators have pointed out, it does give people something to look forward to and help them get through the darkest of winter months. With the Winter Solstice now passed, the days should slowly be getting lighter, incrementally at first, but then slowly gathering momentum, as we move from January into February, but we’re still some six or more weeks away from that. 

Now that Christmas Day is nearly over, it should spell the end of all those annoying adverts that have plagued our TV screens since the end of October – the ones that encourage us to eat too much, spend too much or waste our money on things we don’t really need. Reality check- it’s new sofas, holidays, and no doubt, weight loss plans will follow suit. Monday was my final day at work, and I don’t have to return until 6^th January (12^th Night, for the more observant amongst you). I picked up our pre-ordered turkey from Waitrose, on the way home, and after dinner, cracked open a couple of bottles from my stash of Braybrooke, Bavarian-style beers. The following day, after a much-needed lie-in, I helped Mrs PBT’s transform the front room from her office, into the dining room that it’s supposed to be.

I had fancied nipping out for a pint, but I was under strict orders from my wife to avoid crowded places, especially public houses! This was despite me having been in several supermarkets over the course of the previous few days, two of which were packed out.  I can understand Eileen’s angst, and “avoid crowds” order, as over the course of many years, both of us have suffered from colds, and even flu during the festive season. It’s doubtful, that crowded pubs were to blame, but once a member of the opposite sex has an idea lodged in their head, it’s going to take a lot of shifting!  Having said that, I’m mindful of the pneumonia she picked up, in December 2017, and how it developed into life-threatening sepsis. January 2018 did not get off to a good start and is an experience neither of us wish to repeat again!

Instead, I decided to up my step count by walking around the locality and delivering Christmas cards to those neighbours we know, personally. The sending of cards at Christmas is a tradition that seems to be dying out, and isn’t one I shan't miss if, it does disappear. I discovered a few weeks ago, that a second-class postage stamp now costs £1.65, so multiply that up by the number of cards that people used to send, and you will soon see why the number of greeting cards posted continues to decline, year on year.

Then there is the even more nonsensical reason for posting cards, which is you get a card from someone you haven't heard from since last Christmas, so you feel you ought to post one back. More time and money wasted, because if you don’t reciprocate, what’s the worst that could happen? If there are people (friends or relations) you are that keen on keeping in touch with, then why not use the world-wide-web, and send them an email greeting?  

Anyway, back to the main event, and the media induced pressure to have that "perfect Christmas". There is, of course, no such thing despite the annoying Christmas ads and promotions which seem to start earlier each year. This huge build up for what, after all is just another day, puts enormous pressure on those who feel obliged to conform, and this is particularly true when it comes to the Christmas feast. It needn’t be, as Christmas dinner, is really just a glorified Sunday roast, albeit with various extra trimmings included. 

This year, as with others that have come before, I left the preparation to the lady of the house, despite offering, several times to lend a hand with peeling the sprouts, carrots and potatoes. Mrs PBT’s also looks after the bacon-wrapped sausages – when did they start being referred to as “pigs in blankets”? Then there’s the bread sauce, a favourite accompaniment from childhood, and an "extra" that young Matthew also enjoys. There’s also sage & onion, plus sausage meat stuffing, plus copious amounts of gravy. It’s a lot of work, for just three people, and whilst in previous years, other family members have joined us for Christmas dinner, 2017 was the last year where we were joined by others, at the table on Christmas Day. 

Without sounding rude, or unfriendly, it's nice just having ourselves to think of, rather than members of our extended families to worry about. We’ve also gone easier on the gifts this year, as there's nothing really that Mrs PBT's or I desire, let alone want, so rather than spend money for the sake of it, we have put it towards a family cruise at the end of March. This will involve taking Master Matthew on his first ocean voyage, for a short, 4-day cruise to the port of Hamburg and back, on the Queen Victoria. This particular queen is our favourite amongst the Cunard fleet, so it should be a good introduction for the lad, to the world of ocean cruising.

As for the remaining 10 days of my extended Christmas - New Year break ("Holidays" for American readers), I shall be using them wisely, to catch up on various jobs, plan out forthcoming activities, chilling out and generally just pausing for some quiet reflection. That’s to say, looking back at what's happened over the past year, what's been achieved and looking forward to 2025. I shall perhaps even making some tentative plans on both the house, garden, travelling and holiday fronts.

Still to come, the traditional look back over the past year- something that seems obligatory for all, self-respecting bloggers.

Splitting the "G" or just splitting hairs? How hype and Generation Z helped bebase a once iconic brand

One particular beer-related story that continues to dominate the news, is one that few people can have escaped. It concerns, of course the shortage of Guinness, in the nation’s pubs, clubs and bars, although perhaps it ought to read the “alleged” shortage of Guinness. So, is it a genuine shortage? Or just some clever marketing from a company with a history of imaginative advertising, because, after all there’s nothing like a story concerning the scarcity of a product that is guaranteed to boost sales. It seems I’m not the only person thinking like this, as the claim that Guinness is in short supply, comes from drinks giant Diageo, who own Guinness.

A company spokesperson stated that, “Over the past month, we have seen exceptional consumer demand for Guinness in Great Britain. We have maximised supply, and we are working proactively with our customers to manage the distribution to trade as efficiently as possible.” This follows on from a profits warning issued last year. The MSM have latched onto this story, in a big way, and are alternating between calling it a “stunt” and a “crisis”. So, is this a PR masterstroke, - a nudge for drinkers to get down to their local and shift a few pints before it’s too late? — or is the “Black Stuff” really running out?

It's difficult to be sure, but with Diageo reporting an unexpected spike in sales of Guinness during the peak July to October summer season, where volumes were up by 23 per cent on previous years.  The group has certainly been experiencing unprecedented demand for its best known and most famous brand and has responded quickly to the challenge of meeting this demand. Diageo claim they are working proactively with all their customers to iron out faults in the supply chain, and ensure that supply can keep up with this unexpected increase in demand, but how did this situation come about in the first place?

Well, it’s hard to pin this surge in the popularity of Guinness to any one particular event, although it does seem to hinge around drinkers, who might never have given this dark Irish stout a second thought, suddenly viewing it as the best thing since sliced bread. That isn’t a particularly good metaphor, but Guinness has notably gained traction among women and young people, having traditionally been the favoured drink of older men and rugby teams. The company have gone out of their way in recent years to create a certain mystique around the brand, involving working with influencers on social media to raise the profile. of this most traditional of beer styles by Generation Z. But it goes back further than this, because over several decades, Guinness have made much play about how the beer is dispensed, with the so-called “theatre of the pour” being an integral part of this performance.

The two-stage pouring ritual, that makes drinkers wait, wet-lipped and gasping as the black, main bulk of the beer, swirls and separates out, is an essential part of this theatre. That tight, creamy looking head, that forms on the surface, as the surge subsides, and the beer settles out in the glass, creates a sense of eager anticipation in the drinker as the pints settle out on the bar. Then, once it’s ready, self-proclaimed connoisseurs tip the pint to observe the structure of the head, the dome and its creaminess.

As if this theatrical performance wasn’t sufficient, certain groups of drinker have added an extra dimension with the so- called “Splitting the G”. This is where drinkers try to swallow enough beer on their first drink that the line between liquid and foam ends up halfway through the “G” of the Guinness brand on the glass. There are variations, like getting the line to land between the text and the brewery’s Harp logo just above it. “Splitting the G,” sometimes shows up in the form of a bar bet, in which bar staff might offer to pay for the pint if a drinker can split the "G" perfectly on the first try. Alternatively, this performance can take the form of a competition between friends, to see who pays for the round, or just as a bit of fun.

If you think this is a bit of a charade, you’d be right, but having said that, getting the white line to settle just on top of the “handle” of the G, is apparently rather difficult. So why would you do this in the first place, especially as it not only annoys bar staff, but also pisses off other customers waiting at the bar. One barman was reported as saying, that It drives him mad. He added that “It’s a terrible way to drink, as you’re not really enjoying the beer properly. You’re enjoying the experience of beating your friend at something really trivial.” The same bartender went on to say that “You should get seven or eight good slugs from a pint, but if you were to continue to drink at the rate of splitting the G, then you’d only get three mouthfuls out of your beer. It’s not the best way to enjoy what has become a drink of real enjoyment.”

Other pub owners have promoted the trend, with some even offering free pints to drinkers who can pull it off, but with its connection to drinking in large volumes, at least for the initial glug, Guinness seems reluctant to embrace “Splitting the G”. The company still insist that their beer lends itself to “theatre,” claiming if you’re sitting at the bar, and watching a pint being poured, then it is quite tempting to order yourself one. There are other ways to have fun with your pint of Guinness, if you’re so inclined, including the so-called “tilt test,” whereby drinkers tilt a full glass to see if the beer’s creamy foam is stable enough to stay on top without spilling over the side.

We’ve exhausted what I feel is still a rather tentative cause for the shortage of Guinness in the nation’s pubs, although Diageo claim the situation is very much a reality after being blindsided by surging demand among younger drinkers. Guinness is having to raid its reserves in Ireland in order to boost shipments to the UK. These reserves – known as “security stocks,” are usually earmarked for Irish customers but are now being used to ease pressure on publicans in the UK who have struggled to keep up with new fans of the “Black Stuff.”

The company says it is producing more Guinness today than it ever has in its 265-year history and will continue to work closely with customers to manage Guinness distribution as efficiently as possible. The aim is to buy time to allow a “phased replenishment” in the new year that would help UK Guinness supplies return to normal. This early 2025 restock is part of efforts to avoid an even more acute shortage, with the company anticipating a fresh rush for Guinness as sport fans gear up for the Six Nations rugby championship, which kicks off on 31^st January.

There’s plenty more to read on this story in the press, and also online, and you could almost be forgiven that this story is the winter equivalent of the summer “silly season.” For my part though, I’ve had more than enough of the Guinness shortage “crisis”, real or imaginary, especially as I have never been a huge fan of the stuff. Other Irish stouts are available, and CAMRA has put together a list of alternatives, and whilst some of them have limited distribution, there will be others that more than compensate for the non-availability of Dublin's most famous export.

Finally, the majority of the photos shown in this post, result from a visit I made to Dublin, 10 years ago, as part of the European Beer Bloggers & Writers Conference. The photo, of a rather commendable attempt at  “Splitting the G” is one I pinched from a recent post by Retired Martin, where the picture rather speaks for itself.

Swan at West Peckham off to a good start

Regular readers may remember a post I wrote at the beginning of November, concerning the Swan, in the village of West Peckham. The post describes how a buyout, by the local community, successfully raised the sum necessary to ensure the future of the pub. This followed the retirement of the previous owner, and licensee and his decision to offer first refusal on the property, to a potential purchase by local residents, and other interested parties.

I reported that I’d purchased a minimum shareholding, consisting of 250 shares in the Swan Community Project Limited.  A couple of weeks later I received an e-mail thanking me for my contribution along with confirmation that the sum necessary to secure the pub's future had been reached. There was money left over as well, and this would be used, in the first instance, for improvements to the kitchen, as well as the pub’s toilets.

Now, on a rather dull, dank and chilly mid-December Sunday, I thought it would be worth calling in at the Swan, to see how things are going. Matthew came with me, as I wanted to stop off at the local car wash to give my vehicle a much clean, before it goes in for a service at the end of the week. I wouldn't normally bother but I think it helps those who are carrying out the work, if you present a clean vehicle. It creates the right impression and prevents those who are carrying out the work from getting too dirty. Matthew did the donkey-work with the high-pressure lances, that apply soap, before blasting it all off with clean water. I stood by and watched, although I did pay for the time used by the machine.

Afterwards, we drove along to West Peckham, a tiny settlement sandwiched between Dunk's Green and Mereworth. With a population of around 350 people, it’s not really large enough to be called a village, but with a large, central green, overlooked by the medieval church of St Dunstan, plus of course the Swan public hall, West Peckham punches above its weight. The local shop might have closed, but the settlement has its own village hall, and judging by the amount of parked cars, there was an event taking place there.

I don't think Matthew had been there before, although he recognised some of the buildings from that dreadful, PC remake of the "Darling Buds of May", featuring Bradley Walsh and Peter Davidson, amongst others. As you drive into the village, the vista of church, pub, village green, and surrounding houses opens up in front of you. Keen to see what was happening with the Swan, a couple of months on from my purchase, we just managed to squeeze into one of the two remaining spaces in the admittedly rather cramped, pub car park. I made a mental note that providing additional parking spaces, should feature high on the list of necessary improvements.

On the plus side, it was encouraging to see so many vehicles parked there, even though it meant standing room only, inside the pub. The area to the left of the bar is given over to diners, and it was definitely a full house there. The same applied to the section at the opposite end, although we managed to squeeze in immediately in front of the bar. My eyes lit up when I noticed a pump clip for Larkin's Porter, alongside a couple of Tonbridge Brewery beers. Larkin's Porter isn't exactly a session beer, and I was playing it safe by only having a half. To tell the truth it wasn’t the finest pint off this particular porter anyway, even if it represented the first time this winter that I’ve come across it. I imagine it was probably a case of slow turnover, as there was a definite tang to it, although I have heard reports that Larkin’s Porter isn't as good this season, as it has it been in previous years.

Another observation about the Swan, was that as well as practically bursting at the seams with people, the same applied to the number of dogs there. You might think this signified that the majority of customers were proper country folk, although I suspect that most of them had arrived by car, rather than on foot. This is a shame because the pub is situated on the Weald Way – a north-south route which runs from the River Thames at Gravesend, down to Eastbourne on the South Coast. Crossing this path at right angles, is the rather better known, and also longer, Greensand Way.

Despite the crush, I managed a brief chat with one of the people behind the bar. I assumed he was the manager, so much to Matthew’s embarrassment, I mentioned that I had bought a few shares in the place, and was happy to see that things were going well. I noticed from the opening hours displayed, that the pub is closed all day on Monday, which probably makes sense, especially during the winter months, and I think the same hours applied under the previous management.

So, after popping in to check on my investment, I shall definitely be making return visits to the Swan, although next time I plan to take the bus to Mereworth, and then walk along the lanes, the mile and a half so through to West Peckham.

 

 

 

Shuffling around at the Shuffle House

Last Friday saw my company holding its annual Christmas party, and it was a change of both venue and style. During the course of the past 18 years that I’ve been employed, the Christmas party has invariably followed the traditional pattern of a sit-down Christmas meal, normally at a local pub. That honour has traditionally fallen to the Little Brown Jug, a large, single-storey pub in the village of Chiddingstone Causeway, just five minutes’ walk from our factory.

The Jug, as it is universally known, is owned by Whiting & Hamond, a small pub chain based primarily in the west of Kent. W&H operate a similar business model to that of the better-known Brunning & Price but are smaller and much more localised. Over the years the Jug has looked after the company, catering for our Christmas needs, either in the form of an evening meal or, in more recent times, a mid-afternoon Christmas dinner.

In the early days, other halves/significant others were also invited, but as the company grew in size and became larger and larger, this became impractical from a logistical point of view, as well as stretching the budget. In between, the firm tried several other venues, with varying degrees of success. 

Places that spring to mind, include the Bottle House at Smarts Hill, the Plough at Leigh, the Camden Arms at Pembury and the now closed, Edward’s Brasserie at Sevenoaks Weald.  There might have been a couple of other venues, but the above establishments stick in the memory, although not always for the right reasons. It was with no surprise then that we gravitated back to the Little Brown Jug.  

 After a year out due to the pandemic, we returned to the Jug for the next couple of years before, in a bit of experimentation, the boss was persuaded to give
somewhere else a try, and in 2023 the Elizabethan Barn, in the centre of Tunbridge Wells was the venue for our Christmas meal. We were allocated seats upstairs, and if I was to say it was that little bit too cosy and comfortable, you’ll know what I mean.

This year, determined to do something better, our General Manager decided to think outside of the box, and picked what some might describe as a left field venue, in the form of the Shuffle House. The latter is a South American/Latin tapas and stone-baked pizza restaurant, situated in the St John’s area of Tunbridge Wells. The establishment is named after its two 14-foot-long shuffleboards, a game similar to shove ha’penny, which has its origins in 15^th century England, where it began as a leisurely after-dinner activity. I shall explain more about the game, later on, but for now I’m pleased to say that it proved a great hit with everyone who had a go – which was most of us.

Spread across two floors, with rooms leading off from each level, the informal nature of the Shuffle House allowed ample opportunity for guests to mingle and interact with each other. This was exactly what our GM wanted, as it is the direct opposite to the more traditional, sit down to eat set up of the majority of pubs and restaurants, where there is little opportunity to converse with staff members that weren’t on one’s immediate table. The food arrived in stages, and as mentioned above, had a Latin- South American theme. This meant there was a good selection of stone-baked pizzas, combined with an equally tempting range of Tapas. Finally, there were bowls of freshly cooked, curly-skinny fries.

As is normally the case at staff Christmas parties, there was a free bar, but unlike the food I’m afraid the choice of draught beer was disappointing. Continuing the South American theme, the beer at the Shuffle House was sourced from Chile. Stratus South Pacific Lager 4.0% from Rothhammer Brewery was the sole offering, the accompanying BHB Juicy Pale from Big Hug Brewing, having run out. Research reveals that this particular beer is a collaboration brew, between Big Hug and Portobello, but that is academic, seeing as it was unavailable. Call me a Phillistine for dissing free beer, but I found the Stratus South Pacific Lager too sweet, too fizzy and far too cold. I struggled to finish my third pint, and I know that many of my colleagues had a similar experience.

So, what about the game which gives its name to this interesting Tunbridge Wells bar and restaurant? Despite its 15^th century origins, Shuffleboard today is played on a lengthy wooden slabs, 14-feet at the Shuffle House, where there are two such tables. Steel pucks glide with impressive smoothness towards the board’s end, the aim being to rack up high scores by getting ones pucks into zones located close to the end of the board, while avoiding letting them fall off. The pucks are coloured either red or blue, and there are four of each. Two players compete against one another in each game, and to give a better idea of the tactics and the scoring, take a look at the rules, which are reproduced here from the Shuffle House website.

Going back for a moment, to the games origin, shuffleboard evolved into shove-penny, often using a silver penny, so to witness this modern, recreation of the much older original game, was an interesting experience. It is said that the game was once considered a distraction by Henry VIII, who banned it to keep his troops focused on archery practice, but that’s nothing compared to some of the horrors perpetuated by that hideous tyrant, during his reign.

The modern version though, proved a great way to end an evening with colleagues, combining good food, drinks, and a bit of competitive fun. It might be a cliché, but a good time was had by all, and it certainly turned out to be one of the best Christmas parties the company has held, for a long time.

 

Pre-loading at Fuggles, prior to the firm's Christmas bash, results in an unexpected encounter

 

I had one of those rare chance encounters in a pub on Friday evening, which apart from being a surprise was one of those experiences when you start questioning did that really happen? So, what exactly is all this about? Well Friday evening was the night of my company’s Christmas party, which this year, took place at a venue in the St John’s area of Tunbridge Wells, called the Shuffle House.  It was an unusual setting for our festivities but as it happened it worked out really well, but you will have to wait for the appearance of the still to be drafted article, to discover exactly what made our party at the Shuffle House, so good.

I left the house early and set off for Fuggles to enjoy a pre-party drink - a quick “one for the road” so to speak. It was interesting seeing the different Christmas lights sparkling on people’s houses, and shining out through their windows, as I walked down into the town. Tonbridge’s medieval castle was also lit up and looking suitably festive. I had two interconnected reasons for calling in at Fuggles, the first being to tick off a new beer on Untappd, whilst the second was to get another stamp on my Fuggles loyalty card. 

This is a promotion run by both beer cafés specifically to promote cask beer, the idea being each time you buy a pint of cask you receive a stamp on your loyalty card. Collect 10 stamps and you can then exchange your completed card for a free pint. The offer is not applicable to lager, keg beer or foreign beers and is only applicable to cask. As such the scheme lends a helping hand in raising the profile of cask ale. So, by treating myself to a pint of Northern Monk Festive Star Porter, I effectively killed two birds with one stone.

There would still be plenty of time to catch a bus over to Tunbridge Wells and my rendezvous with work colleagues at the Shuffle House. Fuggles wasn't too crowded when I arrived, although it was still humming with the atmosphere that only comes with the end of the working week, but almost as soon as I'd walked into the pub, my glasses misted over following the change in temperature. I approached the bar and couldn't see whether the beer that I wanted was still on. The attentive staff asked me what I wanted, so I had to say, “you're going to have to read them out to m,e or wait until my glasses have cleared.” The young man was quite understanding, and when I mentioned the words Northern Monk, and the fact there was cinnamon and chocolate in the beer, he knew exactly which beer I was after.

Pint duly pulled and paid for, I stood at the bar savouring this excellent, winter porter, when someone I didn’t recognise at first, walked in behind me, before making his way to the bar. He turned towards me and said, “Hello Paul.” Wondering at first, who the hell he was, I suddenly recognised him as a former regular, customer at the Cask & Glass off license, that my wife and I used to run. I’m still not 100% sure, but I think his name is Ian, so that’s what I shall call him for the duration of this article. Ian would call in, a couple of times in the week, to pick up a four-pint jug of whichever of the 3-4 cask ales that we had on tap.

I remember him as a tenant farmer, running a small farm that I think was centered around fruit growing. He was always pleasant to chat with, and we would often talk about local pubs and what beers they were selling. I had actually seen him a year or so previously, and he told me then that he has given up the farm and taken a job with Royal Mail. This new job was less stressful and more secure than farming, although I'm sure he misses, at times, being his own boss. Much like farming, being outdoors, in all weathers delivering letters kept him fit, particularly now as we approach the busiest time of the year, for the postal service.

He also told me that the tenancy agreement he had with the landowner, allowed him to remain in the rented cottage, that went with the farm. I guessed this was because the land belongs to the Hadlow Estate, although locally the landowners are referred to as “Teachers”, following the marriage into the D’Avigdor- Goldsmid family (owners of the estate), by James Teacher, a member of the family that founded Teacher's Whisky. The estate owns large areas of land locally, centered around the villages of Capel, East Peckham, Five Oak Green and Tudeley. Mrs PBT’s used to work with a lady whose husband managed one of the larger fruit farms, and they have a similar arrangement regarding rented accommodation. Rachel, was renowned for hosting summer parties, held in a large marquee next to the farmhouse, and Mrs PBT’s and I attended several of these, back in the days before COVID.

Ian confirmed my guesses about Teachers Whisky and their ownership of his former farm, so we moved on to rumours circulating locally, about the possible sale of parts of the Hadlow Estate. There is a lot of apprehension locally about plans to construct large numbers of houses in the area. A large housing development is already underway at nearby Paddock Wood, and there are campaigns locally to fight similar developments at Capel. Ian’s thoughts were that the landowners wanted to construct a new development, similar to that at Poundbury, in Dorset, championed by King Charles, when he was Prince of Wales. With the new government’s plans for 1.5 million new homes to be built, across the UK, things aren’t looking too good for lovers of the countryside.

Moving on to happier things, the Festive Star Porter was exceptionally good, with the cinnamon and chocolate flavours going well with the solid malt base of the beer. Ian and I shared a further pint of it between us, after one of the other barman had inadvertently poured him a second pint, without realising that his colleague had already pulled one. The “extra” pint was on the house, so it seemed rude not to help out by assisting with its “disposal.” There was a nice atmosphere in Fuggles that evening, one made all the nicer by that chance encounter, and had it not been for the lure of the firm’s party, I could quite happily have stayed there for the rest of the evening.

As things turned out, the party was a roaring success with the new venue, and its South American food offering (and drink), proving a hit with all who attended. I got the timings just right, by catching the No. 7 bus, from the stop just down the road from Fuggles, and arrived at the Shuffle House almost on the dot of seven o’clock. You can read about this relatively new addition to the drinking (and dining) scene in Tunbridge Wells, next time.