As the iconic beer is set to make a return, I take a look back at my first experiences of Boddington's Bitter

The sharp-eyed amongst you will soon realise that the article I’m about to run, and follow up on, is a month or so old now, but time doesn’t diminish a good story, especially one like this that appears to have come out of the blue. I imagine that the main protagonists behind this development will have been working on this project for some time, but whatever was going on behind the scenes, the news still came as a shock to us beer lovers, albeit a pleasant one. The story concerns Boddington’s Bitter, the beer marketed as the "Cream of Manchester" until its disappearance 13 years ago. Now, the good news for beer aficionados is that this legendary beer is set to return to pubs across the North West. It will be brewed and distributed by Manchester brewer JW Lees under licence from brand owner the Budweiser Brewing Group.

First brewed in 1778, this beer became a symbol of Manchester's spirit and Northern pride. It disappeared in cask form in 2012, but now a revised version of Boddington's Bitter, with an abv of 4.0 %, is due to reappear in pubs across the North West in December. Brian Perkins, president of AB InBev in Western Europe said: "We're excited to relaunch Boddington's Cask Ale in partnership with JW Lees, combining one of the UK's most iconic beer brands with one of its most respected brewers".

As stated earlier, this isn’t a new story, and it’s one that several other writers have already covered. As far as I am concerned, the best article by far about the return of Boddington’s, is this lengthy homage by Chris Dyson, whose excellent blog Real Ale, Real Music encompasses his love of good beer and good music. Chris doesn’t seem to have an “about me” page on his blog, although if he does, he keeps it well hidden, so if you’re reading this Chris, and I’ve got it wrong, then please let me know. Reading between the lines though, Chris is based somewhere in West Yorkshire. Of particular relevance to this article is the fact Chris was a student in Manchester, at around roughly the same time as me. He went up to Manchester University in 1974, a year after I started at neighbouring Salford University, in 1973.

What I find particularly fascinating is that we both report the same reaction to our first encounter with Boddington’s Bitter, Chris’s comments are here in his most recent post, The bees are back in town. For the uninitiated, the worker bee logo, has long been a symbol of Manchester, and an emblem of all that is good and positive about a town that claims to be Britain’s second city (a claim that is argued over with Birmingham).  Leaving city rivalries aside, as well as giving a detailed history of Boddington’s brewery, Chris’s article describes his first encounter with Boddington’s bitter. “A seismic moment, and life-changing event,” Chris had never tasted anything so bitter, and this had been my reaction, exactly a year earlier.

I wrote about my experience in an article for a pre-blog project, that never got off the ground. I have reproduced the piece below, because not only does it describe my first encounter with Boddington’s, it also details how I sought out the city’s most famous beer over the course of the four years that followed. These were years when I was still a student, living in the Greater Manchester area, and a period that only came to end when my then wife and I left the city for the bright lights, and better employment prospects of the nation’s capital.

Boddington's were arguably Manchester's favourite son and, certainly during the early days of CAMRA, were one of the darlings of the burgeoning Real Ale movement. The company was established in 1778 at Strangeways, Manchester and, in common with other local breweries, expanded gradually whilst at the same time gaining a reputation for the quality of its ales. Things continued in this vein until 1969, when Boddington's received an unwelcome takeover bid from Allied Breweries. Allied wished to increase their presence in Manchester, a city where they were not particularly well represented.

The takeover would have given them control of Boddington's 280 pubs, but they had reckoned without the resolve of the Boddington's board and the loyalty of local drinkers. The board decided to fight the takeover and sent out a letter to shareholders citing several "non-financial reasons" for opposing the bid. When Allied upped the price of their bid, the board again urged shareholders to reject it, a move which flew in the face of all financial wisdom, and which went against the general trend of what was happening in the brewing industry. Allied were forced to concede defeat when they announced that they had not picked up sufficient shares for the bid to go through, and local drinkers heaved a big sigh of relief.

The fact that Boddington's were successful, in thwarting this unwelcome bid, was largely due to the unwavering support of their shareholders who remained loyal to the company in spite of some very attractive profits which would have been realised if the bid had gone through. They were backed by a board, comprising chiefly of members of the Boddington family, who urged them to resist on the grounds of product quality, plus the loss to local drinkers that would have resulted from a successful bid from Allied. Additional support was also obtained from Whitbread, who had long held a stake in the Manchester company, and who had no wish to see a formidable rival "muscling in" on their territory. However, this support came at a price and led to Whitbread increasing their holding in the company. The ultimate cost of this support was very heavy indeed, as the Boddington's brewery and brands ended up being owned by Whitbread! 

 

My first introduction to Boddington's was in 1973, during my first term at Salford University. I had been recommended to try the beer by friend back home in Kent, who knew a lot more about beer than I did. (The only northern beer I was familiar with, prior to my arrival in Salford, was Newcastle Brown Ale!)  Boddington's wasn’t that easy to find. The bar in the students union sold only big brewery products, as did the type of pubs popular with students at the time. With no pub guides available to help me, it was sometime before I managed to track down Manchester's most famous brew. In order to do so it was necessary to venture further afield to the area known then as Salford Precinct. This was a concrete jungle of high-rise flats, erected during the previous decade as replacement housing for the notorious Salford slums. In the end these blocks turned out to be infinitely worse than the back-to-back terraces they replaced, but that's another story!

I don't remember the name of the pub, but it was a somewhat functional modern building. What I do remember is that when I first entered it, I thought that everyone was drinking lager!  It wasn't until I ordered my first pint, (dispensed inevitably from a metered electric pump), that I realised that the pale, straw coloured liquid, most of the clientele were drinking, was in fact Boddington's Bitter. Now here was a novelty, I had never come across a bitter with such a pale colour before. I took my first sip, and it nearly took the skin of the roof of my mouth - such was the degree of bitterness. To say that the beer was uncompromisingly bitter was an understatement, indeed after all those years I can still picture my reaction.

I had never tasted a beer that was quite as bitter (although I hadn't tasted Holts at that point!), and once my taste-buds had adjusted, I was hooked. I persevered and discovered, much to my amazement, that the taste was addictive, and in spite of my surroundings I ordered a further pint. It was straw-pale in colour and very well-hopped and at that time having been brought up on the more gentle bitters of south east England, had never tasted anything as bitter, and once my taste-buds had adjusted, I was hooked.

Over the following four and a half years, I regularly sought out Boddington's beers and discovered that the brewery also produced two milds, plus a strong ale - the latter being available during the winter months only. By this time, Boddington's had become something of a cult drink and the brewery, flushed with success, was extended, with new plant installed to cope with rising demand, together with plush new offices. As well as brewing good beer, the company also possessed some marvellous, unspoilt pubs. Most of these were the older style houses, as Boddington's tended to go for some characterless designs for their more modern pubs.

Towards the end of my stay in Manchester there were murmurings in both CAMRA and other circles that Boddington's bitter was becoming blander in taste. Certainly, to me, it seemed less bitter than the beer I had first tasted four years previously. The brewery strenuously denied these rumours, but a friend of a friend, who worked at the brewery as an electrician, reported that they were true, and that the hopping rate had indeed been reduced in order to make the beer “more acceptable to a wider audience.” By this time my friends and I had discovered the delights of Holt's Bitter - a truly bitter beer if ever there was one! Shortly afterwards I moved back south and, apart from occasional visits to Manchester, had few opportunities in which to sample Boddington's, or indeed any of the city's beers.

Footnote

There was quite a bit more copy associated with the original article, but in the main it concerns itself with Boddington’s fall from grace, how the company overstretched itself, and how it fell into the hands of Whitbread, the company that had been its saviour, back in 1969. I might, one day, allow the piece to see the light of day, even though with its descriptions of mergers, sell-offs and outright takeovers, it does represent all that was worse in the country’s brewing industry at the time.

For the time being though, we’ll leave it in the can, so to speak, but there is one more proviso concerning this blog post, and that is the lack of photos, contemporary or otherwise. There are a handful, lifted from a book published in 1978, celebrating 200 years of brewing at Strangeways – a book that I knew I had somewhere at home, and fortunately unearthed it earlier today (I've got umpteen brewery history books stashed away). There is also the odd library photo, but nothing personal that connects the brewery with me.

Two contrasting local pubs, both doing a roaring trade

I visited a couple of rural pubs recently, they were quite contradictory in nature, despite being relatively close to one another. The main difference between them is is that one is independent, and family owned, whilst the other is part of a chain of decidedly upmarket public houses. The one thing they have in common is their relative proximity to the River Medway, Kent’s major river, which runs roughly south to north bisecting the county in two. My son and I enjoyed a meal, along with a quick pint in the first of these two hostelries, whist I just happened to stop off for a quick drink at the other one. Mind you, the world and his wife seemed to be dining out there.        

Let’s start with the Chequers, an attractive oak-beamed 15th-century pub, situated in the small settlement of Laddingford, in the midst of the English hop growing countryside. The Chequers sits at the very heart of the village and is a cornerstone of village life. A true family village pub. Good quality, value for money food, including daily specials, Sunday Roast and a children's menu. The pub frontage is a sea of flowers in summer and has a covered seating area. Whilst in winter, a roaring log fire keeps customers warm.

The pub hosts a variety of events, including an annual beer festival, held to mark St George’s Day. The event takes place in the pub itself and also in the extensive garden behind. The majority of the beers are racked up in an old oast house, at the side of the pub, which looked as if it may have been a stable block, back in the day. In true festival fashion, the beers are dispensed straight from the cask. For those who prefer vertical drinking and standing at the bar, there are usually three more cask ales were available inside the pub.

A couple of weeks ago, Mrs PBT’s had gone out for a meal, with a group of her girly friends, so left to our own devices, it was boys night out as well! Matthew and I drove over to Laddingford and parked a short distance up the road from the Chequers. Matthew particularly likes this pub, and with good reason. It was a balmy summer’s evening, so we chose to sit outside, on the comfy chairs, situated beneath a canvas canopy. I didn’t take a photo of the pump clips, but I’m reasonably certain that the beer I ordered was Tim Taylor’s Golden Best. This light mild is a beer that we rarely, if ever, see in the south-east, as it seems as if the brewery is content to flood the market with its flagship, Landlord. I’m pleased to report the Golden Best was on good form, but I’m not sure what Matthew’s lager was like – I told you that I wasn’t really paying attention!

For some reason, pub seemed popular with cyclists. A small group pulled up outside the pub, and then one or two of them would head off for a short ride, only to reappear 15 minutes or so later. After a few mouthfuls of beer, some more of them would ride off, before eventually returning again. All very strange, but the terrain in this part of the county, is dead flat, as it forms part of the River Medway floodplain, and this might explain its appeal to those on two wheels. As far as the food was concerned, our meal choices were pretty conservative – cheeseburger & chips, for the lad, plus fish - variety not specified, chips & mushy peas for me.

Five days later, and on a blisteringly hot Sunday afternoon, I stopped off in Tudeley, at the Poacher & Partridge. The latter is a large and sprawling pub that boasts a large, open-plan restaurant, bar, terrace and garden area, with uninhabited views across open farmlands. Like the previous pub, the Poacher lies on the same floodplain, although is sited a bit further upstream from the Chequers. 

 The Poacher & Partridge, started life as the Red Cow – and then went through several name changes. It was known as the Hartlake for a while, because it is situated in Hartlake Road, and an entry in 1993 Real Ale Drinker’s Guide to Kent Pubs lists the pub as the Pig in Hiding. Fortunately, that daft name didn’t hang around too long, and the pub then became the Poacher. The pub underwent further enlargement in 2006, along with another makeover, plus the addition of “Partridge” to the pub’s name.

Today the Poacher & Partridge is owned by Elite Pubs, a chain of 11 up-market pubs, occupying a relatively narrow area of West Kent and East Sussex. With its mix of traditional farmhouse decor with a modern, contemporary twist, The Poacher & Partridge is perfect for alfresco dining, especially when the weather is as good as it’s been recently. The place was absolutely rammed on Sunday, and I was lucky to find a parking place, despite the recently enlarged car-park occupying three small fields.

Given the fine weather, I was keen to sit outside, although not in direct sunlight, but first a beer was in order. The cask offerings were a choice between the ubiquitous Harvey’s Best, plus India Pale Ale, from Tonbridge Brewery. I opted for the Harvey’s, as I’ve never been a massive fan of the more local beer. I’m sure it’s just me being over fussy, because I was talking to a work colleague earlier today, and she really rates Tonbridge beers. Horses for courses, I suppose, and possible proof that I perhaps need to approach Tonbridge Brewery with more of an open mind. Also, Tonbridge Coppernob is the only non-rotating cask beer, sold in both branches of Fuggles. By that I mean that particular beer is always available, regardless of what other cask ales are on sale.

After ordering my pint of Sussex Best, I headed out, through the dining area, to the extensive garden at the rear. That too was packed, with the best tables being those with parasols providing welcome shade. I was lucky to find an empty table, and whilst it was one without any shade, my wide-brim sunhat, protected me from the worst of the sun’s rays. 

I sat at the table, enjoying an excellent glass of Harvey’s whilst watching the punters soaking up the sun, the beer and the food in equal quantities. With a separate outside bar, serving wine, lager and cocktails, plus numerous members of the Poacher’s team in their distinctive black and yellow, corporate attire, the place had the appearance and feel of a well-oiled, military encampment. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, even the couple I noted earlier, who’d managed to find some shade for their two hounds.

As I was driving, I limited myself to a single pint – although that might be too much if the government carry out their treat to reduce the drink-drive limit! Later that afternoon, I saw a local news update about the Hilden Manor, a Beefeater restaurant on the edge of Tonbridge. Owners Whitbread have already announce the closure of this imposing Grade II-listed building, which dates back to the 14^th & 15^th centuries. The breaking news is the site will be reopening under the name of the Never-Say-Never, in December this year. It will be a part of the Elite Pubs group, the same chain that own and operate the Poacher, (see above). I’m not sure about the name, but I shall look forward to seeing what the new owners have planned for this rambling old building.

 

 

No GBBF for Paul this year. Meanwhile AI marches steadily on

Yesterday, Friday, I was supposed to be attending the Great British Beer Festival.  This was because I managed to obtain a Press Pass, in my capacity of a blog writer/owner, that entitled me to free admission to the event. I was therefore looking forward, believe it or not, to experiencing this iconic event, in its new home. The “new home” tag refers to the festival’s move from London Olympia to Birmingham’s National Exhibition Centre (NEC). This follows an 11-year run at Olympia (although the 2020 & 2021 events were cancelled, due to COVID) – alternating somewhat in the early days, between Olympia and the now demolished, Earl’s Court. Problems last year, affecting the availability of Olympia, led to cancellation of the 2024 festival, leaving CAMRA looking for a new site.

The move to the NEC made perfect sense, given its more central location, and associated ease of access, but having attended numerous, work-related trade-events at this venue, I had my doubts. These were related to the structure of the NEC, rather than the venue itself, as like most exhibition halls (and I’ve been to several overseas events, as well), the place is pretty soulless, consisting in the main, of a series of connected metal “sheds”. Despite these misgivings, I was determined to give the new venue a go, and if I’d got my a*se in gear sooner, I would definitely have gone. Distracted by other things, and taking my eye of the ball last weekend, meant that the £30 Advanced Return ticket I could (and should) have bought at the end of July, would now cost me more than double that price!

This put a whole different spin on things, and whilst I still could have afforded that price, I like to get value for money, and a 100% increase in the rail fare, didn’t tick that box. Instead, I shall put that £60+ quid towards a trip somewhere else in the British Isles, and somewhere I haven’t been to before, but have a serious longing to visit – Totnes/Topsham, Hebden Bridge, Newcastle, & Huddersfield are towns that look like favourites, at the moment.

Before signing off, here’s something to grab your attention, because when I started writing this piece, Artificial Intelligence (AI) popped up on my computer screen,  and asked me to describe what I’d like to write. The programme I use is Microsoft Word, I’m not sure which version it is, but as I pay a yearly subscription, I’m assuming it is the latest version. Somewhat “tongue in cheek” I typed in “Great British Festival” and in less than a minute, Mr Gates’s software came up with the piece in coloured text, below. Readable and accurate, apart from not mentioning the change in venue, from Olympia to the NEC.

Frightening too, as it stifles creativity, and the effort needed to research and write a blog piece in the first place. Is this the way the world is going? Because if so, it’s going to put a lot of people who write for a living, out of work. That doesn’t include me, as I write for pleasure, rather than to make a living, but I am concerned that stifling the thought processes involved with creative works, and the deeply personal input that writers and authors can give, we’re going to be turning out a whole generation of automatons. Ignore at your peril, and don’t say, I didn’t tell you so!

Great British Beer Festival

A Celebration of British Brewing Excellence

The Great British Beer Festival (GBBF) is one of the UK's largest and most renowned beer festivals, organised annually by the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA). Held in London, this iconic event brings together beer lovers from across Britain and beyond to celebrate the rich heritage and diversity of British brewing.

Event Highlights

·         Wide Selection of Beers: Featuring hundreds of real ales, ciders, and perries from traditional breweries and innovative newcomers.

·        International Flavours: Alongside British brews, the festival showcases beers from across Europe and further afield.

·        Live Entertainment: Attendees can enjoy live music, pub games, and a lively atmosphere throughout the event.

·        Expert Talks and Tastings: Masterclasses, guided tastings, and talks from brewers and industry experts offer insight into the world of beer.

·        Food Stalls: A range of classic British fare and international cuisine complements the extensive drinks selection.

Who Should Attend?

The GBBF is ideal for anyone with a passion for beer, whether you're a seasoned aficionado or simply curious to explore new flavours. It is a fantastic way to experience British pub culture, meet fellow enthusiasts, and discover the latest trends in brewing.

When and Where?

The festival typically takes place in early August at Olympia London, easily accessible via public transport. For up-to-date information on dates, tickets, and featured brewers, visit the official CAMRA website.

Fun Fact

Since its inception in 1977, the Great British Beer Festival has grown to become a cornerstone event for beer lovers, often referred to as the "biggest pub in the world" during its run.