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??

Playing It Safe

 

On more than one occasion in the past I’ve complained about just how “conservative” many pub landlords are when it comes to choosing which beers to stock. I’m often amazed whilst visiting pubs up and down the country at just what a narrow range of beers many of them stock, with tried and trusted, well-known brands more often than not the order of the day.

This uniformity, and lack of choice, has been a particular bug-bear of mine for some time, but just recently I’ve started to wonder whether the blame for this curse of “sameness” is as much, if not more, the fault of the nation’s drinkers, rather than hard-pressed licensees. The thing which really got me wondering about this was my experience in Norfolk, last weekend, where I found the guest ale in the pub I was visiting to be past its best, whilst the regular (and well-known) local beers were in excellent nick.

This is not the first time I have experienced such a thing, and I have to say that if in a well-run, and often Good Beer Guide-listed pub the better known, familiar brands are all in first class condition, whilst the unusual “guest ale” is not, then the fault lies more with the pub’s drinkers, who are reluctant to try something a little different, than it does with the unfortunate landlord. I say unfortunate, because in this kind of situation we have someone who is clearly trying his or her best to provide something a bit different for the customers, and they are just turning their noses up at it, sometimes literally!

This point was brought home to me back in the summer, when a well-known local pub, (I won’t say which one), was holding one of several beer festivals it puts on throughout the year. This particular festival had a London theme, with all the beers coming from the new wave of independent breweries which have sprung up in the capital during the last few years. Despite an average of eight different and, it must be said, very good beers on sale at any one time, a significant number of the pub’s regulars were unhappy that their favourite tipple (Harvey’s Sussex Best), had been taken off to make way for the festival beers. In order to placate them, one member of the bar staff was making trips down to the cellar to draw off pints of Harvey’s for them, direct from the cask!

Of course it could be argued that the sensible thing here would be to have had the Harvey’s on alongside the festival beers, thereby keeping both the stick-in-the-mud locals, and the more adventurous festival goers happy. However, it seems that a substantial number of people are either afraid to try something a little different, or are so stuck in their comfort zones that any attempts by pub landlords to tempt them with something new are doomed to failure. Small wonder then that many publicans don’t bother trying at all or, having tried a couple of times, give up and stick with the likes of Bombardier, Doom Bar, Old Speckled Hen et al.

Although we all know pubs where this situation does not apply, they tend to be places which major on offering a wide and varied selection of different beers, as well as other drinks such as ciders and perry. Your average back street local, or your traditional village pub, is still likely to stick with “safe” brands, rather than something a little more adventurous, purely so as not to offend, or even alienate, the regulars. Most pubs do not have the luxury (if that’s the right word?) of having significant numbers of beer geeks or CAMRA members amongst their regular clientele to be able to stick their necks out, for a long enough period, to make these changes, wean the customers off their regular beer and cajole them into trying something different.

The daft thing is though that given a little encouragement, coupled with a bit of subtle education, people can quite often be persuaded to step out of their comfort zone and try something new, whether it’s the latest offering from the micro-brewery down the road, or a beer from the new craft brewery in the next town. Unfortunately, whilst this is happening in some of our major towns and cities, it is not occurring elsewhere and the end result is more of the same, “safe” boring beers. This in turn leads to less outlets being available to stock the new and exciting beers, thereby restricting their access to the market place.

So are heading towards a two-tier system in Britain, where trendy craft-beer bars and “exhibition-type” real ale pubs cater for beer geeks and the ticking fraternity, whilst the remainder of the nation’s rapidly dwindling pub-stock cater for people who just want a place they can go to socialise, and where the drink on sale is secondary, and in some cases almost immaterial? OR should there be some attempt to bring these diametrically opposed groups (and drinking establishments) together?

It can be done through things like education, increased travel, (both at home and abroad), but it may prove a lengthy process. To a certain extent the process is already occurring (witness the vastly increased range of beers available at your local supermarket, and contrast it to the situation 10-20 years ago, and you will see what I mean). However, if we travel too far along this road we risk the same sort of homogenisation I was referring to earlier, and what I was trying to avoid. Many people though are happy as they are (and there’s nothing wrong with that, of course!), and are content to carry on drinking their favourite, often boring beers, whether they be Doom Bar or Fosters. After all, diversity and variety is what makes the appreciation and enjoyment of beer the experience it is today.

A couple of final thoughts on the subject; there have been suggestions recently that CAMRA’s Good Beer Guide has morphed into something of a “guest beer guide”. This has come about because local branches, keen to demonstrate the diversity of different beers within their particular branch areas will, all things being equal, tend to select pubs which offer a greater choice of ales over those that just offer a single boring “brown” beer. Forty years ago, when the guide was first published, real ale was hard to find and pubs which sold any cask beer at all, irrespective of quality, were likely to be included. I certainly believe the GBG no longer fulfils its original purpose, and has long outlived its usefulness.

Last, whilst I obviously appreciate the availability of a good variety of beer in a pub; given the right occasion, the right people, the right pub and the right set of circumstances, an excellent time can be had in a place which just offers a “safe” beer, but obviously the whole experience would be even better if the beer selection was that little bit more exciting.

A Brief Visit to Norfolk

It was nice to get away last weekend and swap the hustle and bustle of the crowded South East for the quiet of rural Norfolk. An overdue visit to my parents was the reason for my getaway, and whilst my trip didn’t leave a lot of time for beer, I still managed a few pints on the Saturday evening.

My parents live in a fairly large, but quite strung-out village called Swanton Morley, which lies about three miles to the north-east of Dereham. They have lived there for the past twenty years or so, having moved to Norfolk, from Kent, following my father’s retirement. I suppose they could now be counted as locals, despite not having been born and raised in the county, and they seem to like where they are living. I hadn’t visited since the spring, so it was nice to spend some time with them and catch up on what had been going on.

I didn’t spend the night at their place. My mother hasn’t been in the best of health recently, and I did not want to add to her workload. Instead I put up at a very nice bed and breakfast place in the nearby village of Elsing. Bartles Lodge, not only offers overnight accommodation, but also caters for fishermen, offering fishing for species such as carp, tench, bream, perch, rudd and roach on three lakes located within the grounds.  It is situated right in the centre of the village, opposite the imposing church and right next to the village pub; the Mermaid Inn.

I have stayed at Bartles before, and have drunk, and eaten, in the Mermaid. On this occasion I had eaten at my parents, but on returning to the B & B, was still eager for a few pints to round off the evening. It was gone nine when I finally arrived at the Good Beer Guide-listed pub. There were around a dozen or so people inside; some sitting down enjoying a meal, whilst others were stood at the bar. At the far end, a mixed group of youngsters were enjoying a game of pool, but everything seemed nice and relaxed.

Four cask ales were on sale; two from Woodfordes (Wherry and Nelson’s Revenge), along with Adnam’s Broadside and guest ale - Viking Bitter, from Rudgate. I opted for the latter to start with, and after paying for my pint, I went and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs close to the fireplace, in order to enjoy my beer. Unfortunately the Rudgate wasn’t quite up to scratch, and if anything was a little “tired”. The beer wasn’t bad enough to return, but as my first pint of the day, and an eagerly anticipated one at that, it was rather disappointing.

Unperturbed, I decided to make the most of the indifferent pint, and settled down in front of the cosy wood-burning stove, and began to read the day’s  Daily Telegraph, plus associated supplements. As I mentioned earlier, the pub was reasonably busy, but not bursting at the seams either. The Mermaid is a comfortable pub, which dates back to the 17^th Century. It consists of a single, long room with the fireplace at one end, and the pool table at the other. Despite the presence of the hand pumps on the bar, all cask beers are served by gravity, from a separate room behind the bar.

After my disappointment with the Rudgate, I opted for something more local, and hopefully safer.  Despite their popularity and widespread availability throughout Norfolk, I have never been a huge fan of Woodforde’s. I went for the Broadside instead, which proved a wise choice, as the beer was in tip-top condition and made up for the poor first pint. I ended up having two pints of it, enjoying the warming glow from both the beer and the stove. The landlady wandered over for a brief chat, which was a nice welcoming gesture on her part. I told her I was staying at the lodge next door, and I imagine both establishments derive mutual benefit from being so close to one another.

I left, shortly before closing time, but after most of the customers had drifted off. I was feeling tired and in need of a good night’s sleep (which I had at the Lodge). Although my visit had been a brief one, it was nice to have spent a bit of time in a very pleasant and welcoming village pub. Sure there was nothing overly special about the range of beer, but sometimes (quite often in fact), there are other, more important factors that make a pub what it is. I am pleased that I experienced these “special qualities” last Saturday, at the Mermaid in Elsing.

The Good Old Days?

“Until the 18^th century, or even later, beer was the staple drink of most men and women at all levels of society. Tea and coffee were expensive luxuries; while water might well carry disease. To supply the needs of both owners and servants, every country house with an accessible source of water had a brewhouse, usually close at hand."

“Country House Brewing in England 1500 – 1900” shows the role beer played in the life of the country house, with beer allowances and beer money an integral part of servant’s rewards. Generous allowances were made for arduous tasks such as harvesting. For celebrations such as the heir’s coming of age, extra-strong ale was provided. This book, which is heavily illustrated, is an important and original contribution to architectural, brewing and social history.”

I’m reading a very interesting book at present. It’s titled “Country House Brewing in England 1500 – 1900”. It was given to me back in the summer by a former customer of the Cask & Glass who, knowing my interest in all things beer, thought of me when he was having a clear-out at home. It’s a hardback book which runs to over 300 pages, by the time all the indices and appendixes are taken into account. Being what can only be described as a “learned treatise” it’s quite heavy going, which explains why I’m only just half-way through it, but given the amount of research that author Pamela Sambrook has put into the book, coupled with the astonishing amount of detail, this is hardly surprising.

The period covered by the book begins with the changes wrought by the dissolution of the monasteries. King Henry VIIIth's tour of destruction ended centuries of monastic brewing in England, and led to the establishment of breweries in large country houses, which themselves had evolved from former manor houses. As the nation slowly became wealthier, and conditions became more peaceful, the homes of the landed gentry were increased in size and became more and more opulent. The number of servants and retainers needed to run such establishments also increased, and large estates grew up to support these palatial piles.

Country houses were, by and large, self-sufficient in so far as they were supplied with foodstuffs from the farms on the estate. They also baked their own bread and, of course, brewed their own beer. Lots of beer, in fact, enough to satisfy the entire household and the myriad of servants employed therein. From simple beginnings, brewhouses attached to the local country pile slowly became more advanced, although they rarely matched the sophistication of their commercial counterparts. Even so, many of the larger establishments had separate and well-designed brewhouses capable of turning out substantial quantities of ale and beer. These quantities of course, varied according to the size and wealth of the house, but figures in the region of 400 gallons of ale and double this amount of beer every month, were not unusual!

Note the terms “ale” and “beer”. The former was a much stronger drink, produced from the first runnings from the mash tun, whereas the drink referred to as "beer" was produced from the second or third runnings, and as such was considerably weaker. Beer was the everyday drink of the household, and in particular that of the servants, whilst ale was the preserve of the lord/duke/squire etc and his family. Being considerably stronger, ale also required a much longer period of maturation before it was ready to drink.

Fast forward from the peak of country house brewing, during the latter part of the 18^th and the early part of the 19^th centuries, to the early part of the last century, and brewing in the remaining great country houses was in terminal decline. This dramatic fall-off was aided and abetted by drinks such as tea and coffee which were far easier to prepare, and which also had a far less soporific effect on household staff. Other factors, such as paying employees a proper living wage in cash, rather than a much lower remuneration which included a generous allowance of beer, also contributed to the decline. The effects of two devastating world wars were the final nail in the coffin of private brewing.

As I said I’m still halfway through the book, but the section I’m reading now which describes the faults and afflictions which could often arise in domestic beer, and some of the equally foul ways in which these defects were counteracted, makes me glad for modern, hygienic brewing practices, rather than any romantic notions I may once have entertained about beer in the “good old days”. Fascinating stuff, as they say, and there’s more to come. For anyone with more than a passing interest in domestic brewing, this is a volume which is well getting hold of.

 “Country House Brewing in England 1500 – 1900”. Author - Pamela Sambrook. Published by The Hambledon Press. ISBN 1 85285 127 9

Waitrose Deal Still Available

The deal on selected beers at Waitrose that I mentioned earlier is still on. Not only can you get virtually the full range of beers from Fuller’s at four bottles for £6, but beers from the likes of Badger, Bath Ales, Brains, Black Sheep, Duchy Originals, Hog’s Back and Hook Norton are also available at the same price. Even better, you can mix and match across the entire range of the offer!

Also worth snapping up are the 750ml bottles of Meantime India Pale Ale and London Porter. At 20% off the normal price, they work out at just £4.16 and £4.04 respectively.

I am surprised, but obviously delighted, the offer is still running, as I hinted earlier  it may be coming to an end soon. It might still pay you then to get down to Waitrose sooner, rather than later, especially if you want to stock up on these beers before the offer ends.

Some Seasonal Thoughts for Late Autumn

There’s not a lot to blog about at the moment. Summer is well and truly over, and even autumn seems to be passing with alarming speed. Now, with winter just around the corner, it’s a pretty quiet time of year, even though the countdown to Christmas is well under way. This is especially true in the retail trade where Christmas goodies (and also a lot of Christmas tat), seem to appear earlier and earlier each year. Also it’s the time of year when events such as Christmas parties and dinners are also planned and booked up in advance. In my own case I’ve got our company Christmas dinner to look forward to, followed by our local CAMRA branch dinner a couple of days later. I perhaps should go on a diet in the weeks leading up to these events; otherwise I’ll be finding that much of my wardrobe doesn’t fit me any more!

Speaking of CAMRA, towards the end of this month we’ve got our branch AGM coming up. This year we’ll be holding it at Tunbridge Wells Constitutional Club; a venue which won the Kent Club of the Year award, for 2013. The AGM is always well worth attending for a look back at what the branch has been up to over the past year, and to look ahead, formulate policy and decide the way forward for the coming year. There are also, of course, matters like approval of the branch accounts and election of officers to sort out. As an incentive to encourage members to attend, there is normally a free buffet. The meeting usually ends with nominations for the following year’s Good Beer Guide which, seeing as surveying and selection is done almost a year in advance, will be the 2015 edition. I don’t intend taking much part in the latter part of the meeting, as my thoughts on the Good Beer Guide are well-known, but I might stick around for the pub-crawl which traditionally takes place after the meeting has ended.

Moving on to the closely allied subject of beer, I’ve noticed a distinct lack of dark ales gracing the counters of local pubs, although the Punch & Judy did have Caledonian Poltergeist Porter on sale the other night. As in previous years though, I’m late in tracking down one of my favourite dark ales, namely Harvey’s Old Ale. This delicious, seasonal dark ale has been out for over a month now, but I still haven’t come across any. Unfortunately, due to a prior engagement, I missed the branch bus trip to Lewes, last weekend, where I’m assured there was Old Ale a plenty. The beer seems mainly confined to Harvey’s tied houses, although I do know from past experience that it is available for the free trade. It seems though that many licensees prefer to play things safe and stick to tried and tested bitter brands, rather than stick their necks out slightly and try something different. I’m certain they would have no trouble in shifting a darker ale, it just looks like they are afraid to move too far out of their comfort zone!

This coming week should see the welcome appearance of another favourite dark ale of mine, in the form of Larkins Porter. I know Bob has brewed a batch, but I also know that like every year, he likes to let the beer mature for six weeks, in tank and cask, before releasing it to an eager public. Bonfire night is usually the time for this dark and delicious, full-bodied beer to appear, so I will be looking out for it with great anticipation.

At the end of the month, the Bailey family are off to Prague for a long weekend, to enjoy the splendours of the Czech capital, and also to experience the city’s Christmas Markets, which set up their stalls around this time. Needless to say there should also be plenty of opportunity to enjoy some of Bohemia’s finest beers, in some atmospheric and unspoilt pubs. A full report will follow when the time comes.

Well that’s about it for the moment, with nothing particularly of note to report, apart from me continuing to stock up on beers for Christmas.

The Best Laid Plans??

It’s often said that the best laid plans go astray, and this certainly proved to be the case on our visit to London on Saturday. Mind you, the plans we had weren’t exactly set in stone, and when they did begin to go awry, a bit of quick thinking helped save the day on a couple of occasions.

It was my son Matthew’s idea to have a day in the big city. Saturday made sense as my wife was also visiting the capital, in conjunction with a group of her girly friends. They were going to the theatre; we were doing something far more decadent, namely visiting a few choice pubs, and hopefully enjoying a few good beers.

In order to experience something slightly different, Matthew had requested we travel up not via our usual direct Tonbridge – London Bridge – Charing Cross route, but by means of the Sevenoaks – Blackfriars route instead. I agreed to this suggestion, even though the journey would take twice as long as usual. So after changing trains at Sevenoaks, and a pleasant journey along the scenic Darenth Valley, we had the dubious delights of Bickley, Beckenham, Catford and Elephant & Castle to view, out of the carriage window, before finally arriving at an enhanced, and considerably enhanced Blackfriars station.

As I said earlier, we didn’t have any firm plans, apart from heading north up to Finchley Road and Hampstead, in order to see where my parents originated from, and where I spent the first three years of my life. I did however, want to take in a few “craft beer bars”, rather than sticking to tried and trusted favourites like the Market Porter and the Harp. Exiting the ultra modern station and heading in a northerly direction, brought the wedge-shaped Blackfriar pub into view, and I couldn’t resist the temptation of popping in for an inside view of this wonderfully eccentric, art-nouveau pub. Now part of the Nicholson’s chain, the Blackfriar had several interesting looking ales on sale, as part of the company’s current “beer festival” promotion. The Truman’s US Pale caught my eye, but as it was only just after 11am, I decided a half would be more appropriate for that time of the morning.  Matthew, of course, stuck to his lager – Carlsberg or Carling; I can’t remember which, and I don’t suppose he can either!

The pub was virtually empty, so we had the pick of the tables and chose one towards the back of the pub, admiring the bronze relief carvings of the monks, along with the ornate marble pillars and arches. Our peaceful contemplation of this late Victorian masterpiece was not to last, as not long after we had sat down, what can only be described as a “tidal wave” of yummy-mummies, accompanied by compliant “dadsies”, pushed their way into the pub, along with various buggies, infants strapped in shoulder slings, alongside the walking and slightly older “little darlings”, and proceeded to grab all the remaining tables and chairs, marooning us in a sea of pushy parenting hell!

This was our cue to leave, and we were both glad that we’d opted for pints rather than halves. I rather half-heartedly thought about asking what the occasion was, but thought better of it in our rush to escape the mayhem and get out into the open air. The pub seemed a strange choice of venue for a child’s birthday party, and besides it was rather too early in the day for that sort of celebration. Relieved to have escaped, we walked up towards Fleet Street, as Matt wanted to re-visit the Cheshire Cheese. I also fancied some bargain-priced Sam Smiths in the timeless surroundings of this classic old pub.

It was not to be; the Cheese was well and truly shut. Whether it opened later, say at midday, was a mystery, as there were no opening hours displayed outside the pub – surely a strange omission for a place that is a popular, “must visit” tourist destination?

After two (OK, one and a half), failed attempts at traditional, it was time for some “craft”, and where better than to put his to the test than the Euston Tap, a short train ride and walk away? Now I’m slightly ashamed to say that I’ve never been to the “Tap”. I’ve obviously read  quite a bit about it, and I’d also checked up beforehand on the place, using Des de Moor’s excellent “London’s Best Beer, Pubs and Bars”, a copy of which was in my rucksack. I therefore knew the pub was on the small side, and that it is popular with beer connoisseurs from far and wide.

Its popularity was not in doubt when we stepped inside, a situation made worse by groups of people hogging the bar. Their presence made it difficult to see exactly what was on tap, and although there were chalk boards, behind the bar, advertising what was available, my eyesight is such these days that in the dim light it was nigh impossible to read them. Now we could have stayed, pushed our way through to the bar and enquired further about the beers from the bar staff, but the very fact these ignoramuses were blocking the way, coupled with the fact that Matt had taken an instant dislike to the place, prompted us to about turn and leave. The “Tap” may serve great beer, but I have to say it had all the atmosphere of a hospital waiting room. Nevertheless I am prepared to give the place another try, next time I am in the area.

With Euston station, and the Northern line a stone’s throw away, we were able to jump on a tube and make our way towards Hampstead. It was raining when we arrived in this fashionable (and expensive) part of town, which put paid to my plan of walking across the Heath to the Spaniards Inn. Instead we headed for another old favourite of mine, the unspoilt Holly Bush, now owned by Fuller’s. The Bush seemed larger than I remember, although I understand it had been extended in recent times to incorporate some rooms which were not part of the original pub. I have to say though, that whoever carried out the work has made an extremely good job of it, and it was nigh on impossible to tell which parts were original (apart from the bar that is!), and which were not.

After purchasing our drinks, we opted for the large room behind the bar, away from the open fireplace which was giving out rather too much heat for the mild weather. I chose Wild River, Fuller’s American-style pale ale, whilst Matt went for Frontier, the brewery’s new “craft” lager. I had a taste of this beer and found it full-bodied and rather good. My Wild River was also equally enjoyable.

It had stopped raining by the time we left the Holly Bush, but time was marching on. A walk across the Heath was now out of the question, so instead we made our way down Hampstead High Street to Hampstead station. After a quick one stop journey to Finchley Road and Frognal, for a look at my grandmother’s old house, it was back on the train, destination Stratford. We had a bit of shopping to do, and the large Westfield Shopping Centre at Stratford seemed ideal for this. The centre is also home to a brew-pub called Tap East, which I believe has a connection with the same people who run Utobeer and the Rake at Southwark’s Borough Market.

Unfortunately after boarding the train, we became aware that due to engineering works on the London Overground, trains would be terminating at Highbury and Islington – an area of London I am totally unfamiliar with. Upon reaching said station, we took the decision to jump on a southbound train in order to alight at Wapping. We were feeling hungry by now, and a quick look through Des’s guide had revealed that the Town of Ramsgate, a well-known riverside pub on Wapping High Street, served food of the pub-grub variety, as well as a reasonable selection of beer.

After initially turning the wrong way out of Wapping Underground station, we eventually found our way to the Town of Ramsgate. The CAMRA guide was right, and it turned out to be a very pleasant pub; long and narrow in its layout, with a terraced area at the rear overlooking the River Thames. The beer range was fairly standard, apart from the Wye Valley HPA, which turned out to be a good choice; pale and fruity, with a good hop bite. Also good was the homemade chicken and leek pie, served with new potatoes and seasonal vegetables. As we sat there enjoying our meal, we noticed the barman setting out a long table, opposite where we were sitting. I asked him if they were expecting a crowd in later, and he told us that the pub is on several tourist circuits, and they receive quite a lot of pre-booked trade from coach companies. The pub’s history and riverside location appeals to foreign visitors especially, and there is obviously a good trade to be had from this attraction.

Suitably fed and watered, we headed off, by tube, to Canary Wharf, where we able to do the shopping we had wanted to do earlier. Then it was a very cramped and crowded underground journey back to London Bridge for our last port of call, the Rake at Borough market. I had a slightly ulterior motive for calling in here as according to the Rake’s Facebook page Oktoberfest beers were on offer at two pints for the price of one, providing one used a phone App called appropriately enough "I Love Free Beer". Unfortunately after ordering the beer I couldn’t get the wretched App to work, despite having connected to the pub’s free Wi-Fi network. (I later found out it was due to a glitch with the GPS system on my phone). We therefore had no choice but to cough up £13.20 for our two pints of Löwenbräu Oktoberfest, which is definitely the most I have paid for a pint of beer outside of Scandinavia.

The beer was good, but not that good, but I wasn’t going to let a glitch with a phone App spoil the end of our day out. Even so, we decided to make that the last beer of the day, especially as I received a text from my wife saying she was on the train home herself. Looking back we probably spent more time travelling than we spent in the pub, but at least we got to see some different parts of London and had some enjoyable beers as well.