Youngs hops in 1990-1991

Time for the final ingredient now, hops. They’re always fun, aren’t they?

Not much in the way of details in the brewing records. Mostly just the name of the grower. The one exception being the Premium Lager, which used imported Styrian hops.

Most beers included two or three types of hops. Apart from Premium Lager and Porter, which only had one. Not sure why Porter was the only top-fermented beer with a single type of hops.

What else can I say about the hops? Nothing sensible, so I’ll keep quiet.

Youngs hops in 1990-1991
Year	Beer	Style	hop 1	hop 2	hop 3
1990	JYLL	Lager	English	English	English
1991	Premium Lager	Pilsner	Styrian (1986)
1990	Light Ale	Pale Ale	English	English	English
1990	PA	Pale Ale	English	English	English
1990	SPA	Pale Ale	English	English	English
1990	Export	Pale Ale	English	English
1990	Porter	Porter	English (1988)
1991	Oatmeal Stout	Stout	English	English
1991	Winter Warmer	Strong Ale	English	English
1990	Old Nick	Barley Wine	English	English
Source:
Young's brewing record held at Battersea Library, document number YO/RE/1/59.

 

 

 

Listen to brewer John Hatch explain how they brewed at Youngs in the 1990s.  

Youngs beers in the 1950s

Before we get to looking through Youngs brewing records from the 1950s, let’s consider some analyses of their beers. Performed by London rivals Truman and Whitbread. Who liked to keep a close eye on what other brewers were producing. In particular, the gravity.

It’s obviously not a complete list of Youngs beers. For a start, there’s no Special Bitter and no Burton Ale. Though it does include the relatively rare Celebration Ale (originally called Coronation Ale).

Having the prices included, allows us to see how much standard X Ale increased in price during the 1950s. Rising from 1 shilling (12d) a pint in 1950 to ½ (14d) in 1959. Which is fairly modest increase compared to what happened in the 1960s and 1970s.

Sticking with X Ale, the colour is a little on the pale side. With values of 60, 68 and 75. I would expect a London Dark Mild to be a minimum of 80.

Did they really brew two Stouts in the 1950s? I doubt it. I think they’ve just changed the strength and the name.

The good news? None of the draught samples seem to have been watered. As the Ogs in the analyses match those in the brewing records. 

Youngs beers in the 1950s
Year	Beer	Style	package	Price per pint (d)	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	colour
1950	X	Mild	draught	12	1033.07				68
1950	Pale Ale	Pale Ale	draught	15	1036.85				26
1953	X	Mild	draught	13	1030.73				60
1953	Pale Ale	Pale Ale	draught	16	1036.8				20
1953	No. 1 Stout	Stout	bottled	33	1052.1	1016.3	4.64	68.71%
1955	Celebration Ale	Strong Ale	bottled	36	1076.2	1015.8	7.91	79.27%
1958	Mild Ale	Mild	draught	14	1031.6	1005.8	3.35	81.65%	75
1959	Pale Ale	Pale Ale	bottled	20	1032.4	1008.9	3.04	72.53%	23
1959	Query Stout	Stout	bottled	32	1039.2	1013.6	3.31	65.31%	375
Sources:
Truman Gravity Book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number B/THB/C/252.
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/002.

 

 

What is Mild Ale?

I explain  Mild Ale - briefly - in this video.

 

Let's Brew - 1960 Youngs XXXX Ale

It’s wonderful to see a post-war brewery making a full range of X Ales, from X all the way through to XXXX.

That’s all very well, but what was this beer sold as? It looks like a strong Burton Ale. Especially as it was parti-gyled with th3eir Mild Ale. Just like their standard Burton Ale, XXX. Given the strength, I’m guessing that this was a bottled beer. Was this later renamed Old Nick? Or was it already being sold as that?

Not a huge amount to discuss about the recipe. As it’s essentially the same all the other X Ales. This particular example being parti-gyled with X Ale.

The colour comes from a combination of sugar and quite a dark crystal malt. There are no roasted malts of any kind.

Guess what the hops were? One English type from the 1958 harvest and another from 1959. Exactly the same as in all the other beers. 

1960 Youngs XXXX Ale
mild malt	11.50 lb	67.65%
crystal malt 150 L	1.50 lb	8.82%
flaked maize	2.50 lb	14.71%
pale malt extract	0.50 lb	2.94%
No. 3 invert	0.75 lb	4.41%
caramel 500 SRM	0.25 lb	1.47%
Fuggles 120 min	1.75 oz
Goldings 30 min	1.75 oz
OG	1078
FG	1022
ABV	7.41
Apparent attenuation	71.79%
IBU	35
SRM	21
Mash at	152º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	120 minutes
pitching temp	58º F
Yeast	WLP002 English Ale

 

Listen to brewer John Hatch explain how they brewed at Youngs in the 1990s.  

Which book would you like me to finish first?

I'd love your opinions. Not that I'll necessarily pay any attention to them. An overwhelming vote might just tip my opinion over the edge.

I do my best to focus. If not, I'd be all over the place. Literally. In time and geography. That's the curse of being fascinated by all aspects of brewing everywhere. Sticking to the UK helps. Without being 100% effective.

After assembling a mass of material while putting a talk together, and seeing how little there was about beer in the VLB book on the DDR brewing industry, I'm extremely tempted to write a second book about East Germany. But who the hell is my expected audience? It's a bit of a niche topic.

Sometimes, you know, you stumble into writing a book. I do, at least. Quite often. It's an example of my ability to get side-tracked. Because I had lots of lovely fresh brewing records from Youngs, I published quite a few recipes. Then I had the interview with former Youngs brewer John Hatch. It just made sense to collect it into a book format where I wouldn't lose or forget about it. Currently 32,000 words, the manuscript.

My principal project is "Free!". UK beer 1880-1914. Another of the chapters from my Meisterwerk documenting UK beer from 1700 to 1973. I've been doing it in a random order. With these published so far:

1914-1920 Armistice! 
1918-1939 Peace!
1939-1947 Blitzkrieg!
1946-1969 Austerity!
1970-1979 Keg!

Being totally honest here, I have a thing for late Victorian an Edwardian beer. And pubs. They still exist. The beer doesn't. And I wish it did. Publishing a shitload of recipes from the period will hopefully give me the chance to try a few beers from the Golden Age of UK brewing. As I've chosen to call it, based purely on my own prejudices.

411 recipes so far. Quite a few more to go.

Which of these three books would you like me to finish first? (DDR! vol. 2, Youngs!, Free!)

Let me know. Then I'll decide if you're right. Or not. 

Youngs sugars in 1990-1991

The most common type is No. 3 invert. Appearing in six of the ten beers. Rather surprisingly, one of those six is John Young’s London Lager (JYLL). Which seems an odd candidate for a dark sugar.

No. 3 invert also turns up in all of the Pale Ales. Though in relatively small quantities: around 4%. What was its purpose? To add colour, I suppose. Possibly also for flavour.

Youngs’ Special Mix, he second type of sugar turns up in all the dark beers: Porter, Oatmeal Stout, Winter Warmer and Old Nick. What was this sugar? This is how an internal Youngs document described it:

“YSM was a blend of glucose syrup, cane molasses and caramel. The actual percentages varied as the product specification was to achieve an extract of 303 lo/kg and a colour of 220 EBC (25mm).  The percentage of each would therefore have varied batch on batch depending on the raw materials.” 
The Young’s “Bible”, held at Sambrook's Brewery Heritage Centre, Wandsworth.

A typical composition was:

73%    glucose
25%    molasses
2%    caramel 2000 SRM

At a certain point, Youngs decided that, rather than using three different types of sugar, it was easier to buy them pre-mixed.

The quantity of YSM used in dark beers was quite high. Which made sense as it was the principal source of colour in some of the beers.

Old Nick contains far more sugar than any of the other beers. I assume that this was mostly to hit the high gravity. Also, possibly, to stop the beer getting to sweet and sticky. 

Youngs sugars in 1990-1991
Year	Beer	Style	no. 3 sugar	Youngs Special Mix	total sugar
1990	JYLL	Lager	6.11%		6.11%
1991	Premium Lager	Pilsner			0.00%
1990	Light Ale	Pale Ale	3.83%		3.83%
1990	PA	Pale Ale	4.09%		4.09%
1990	SPA	Pale Ale	3.94%		3.94%
1990	Export	Pale Ale	3.97%		3.97%
1990	Porter	Porter		8.70%	8.70%
1991	Oatmeal Stout	Stout		8.50%	8.50%
1991	Winter Warmer	Strong Ale		12.55%	12.55%
1990	Old Nick	Barley Wine	21.14%	8.13%	29.27%
Source:
Young's brewing record held at Battersea Library, document number YO/RE/1/59.

 

Listen to brewer John Hatch explain how they brewed at Youngs in the 1990s.  

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1960 Youngs SPA

One of Youngs biggest sellers was their stronger Bitter, Special. A type of beer introduced in the 1950s by many London brewers, including Fullers and Watney.

Youngs version was a pretty powerful beer. In this example, clocking in at 5.5% ABV, partly due to a high level of attenuation. Which would have placed it amongst the strongest Bitters in the UK at the time. 

Not much to say about the recipe. It’s just a scaled up Ordinary. With which this version was parti-gyled. Not that there was all that much to it. Just base malt, flaked maize and sugar. Very typical of post-war UK brewing.

As with all the other beers, there were two types of English hops, from the 1958 and 1959 seasons. 

1960 Youngs SPA
pale malt	9.00 lb	81.21%
flaked maize	1.25 lb	11.28%
pale malt extract	0.33 lb	2.98%
No. 1 invert sugar	0.50 lb	4.51%
caramel 500 SRM	0.003 lb	0.03%
Fuggles 120 min	1.25 oz
Goldings 30 min	1.25 oz
OG	1050
FG	1008
ABV	5.56
Apparent attenuation	84.00%
IBU	30
SRM	5.5
Mash at	152º F
Sparge at	174º F
Boil time	120 minutes
pitching temp	58º F
Yeast	WLP002 English Ale

 

 

Listen to brewer John Hatch explain how they brewed at Youngs in the 1990s.  

Brewing in East Germany just after WW II

I didn't say DDR, because this is before its foundation.

I find the period around the end of the war particularly fascinating. And particularly difficult to find much information about. This section from the VLB book on brewing in the DDR fills in some of the gaps.

In the Soviet zone, they were already brewing in 1945. In the British zone, the only brewing allowed was for the British army. It was a couple of years before the civilian population were allowed beer.

8.1.1 Development of Beverage Supply
Towards the end of 1945, the systematic management and supply of the brewing industry in the Soviet occupation zone began, based on the new harvest. This was based on an order issued by the Supreme Commander of the Soviet Military Administration in Germany on December 3, 1945. As already described elsewhere, this order uniformly set the original gravity of beers at 3º Plato for the civilian population and 6º Plato for the occupying forces. The production of 6º Plato beer took place in precisely defined quantities and in breweries selected by the military administration. Control over this production was very strict, beginning with the milling of the malt and ending with the bottling of the beer. The storage tanks were sealed. Nevertheless, the brewers repeatedly managed to find ways to fill their caps with the slightly stronger beer.
Die Brau- und Malzindustrie in Deutschland-Ost zwischen 1945 und 1989, VLB, 2016, page 103.

For those not acquainted with the Plato sytem. 3º Plato is about 1012º in SG. Beer brewed to this gravity would be, perhaps, 1.2% ABV. Piss weak, in other words. 6º Plato would be about double that. So, maybe, 2.4% ABV. Still not going to get you pissed. I'm glad the brewers managed to get their hands on a little.

The supply of ingredients was strictly controlled.

The regional administrations allocated the required quantities of barley and malt to the breweries in quarterly planned quantities. The necessary hops were initially taken from existing stocks of the joint-stock companies.
Die Brau- und Malzindustrie in Deutschland-Ost zwischen 1945 und 1989, VLB, 2016, page 103.

That all sounds nicely socialist. Central planning and all that. Though ther ewas something very similar in the UK. Where breweries were allocated a certain quantity of ingredients.

This also has echoes of the UK.

The population was initially supplied with beer primarily through the distribution of draft beer via restaurants and factory canteens, as well as through the distribution of bottled beer via retailers. However, due to a severe shortage of bottles, the bottled beer trade remained limited.
Die Brau- und Malzindustrie in Deutschland-Ost zwischen 1945 und 1989, VLB, 2016, page 103.

During, and immediately after, the war, beer bottles were in short supply. Also limiting the amount of botled beer produced.

 

Youngs adjuncts in 1990-1991

Now it’s time for the adjuncts that I mentioned earlier.  Four of them, in total. Though two of them only appear in one beer each.

The percentage of adjuncts in the grists is quite low, mostly around 5% to 7%.. Only being higher in the Oatmeal Stout.

The Porter and Oatmeal Stout both use roast barley, which is intriguing. As, historically, it wasn’t much employed in London. Where black and brown malt were preferred as the roasted elements of Black Beers.

Why was that? Why the change? My guess is that it’s on account of the gap in brewing Stout at Youngs.  In the 1970’s and some of the 1980s, Youngs brewed no Stout. And presumably came back to Stout brewing with a new perspective. Or maybe one of the brewers was a roast barley fan.

Flaked maize, which was usually UK brewers’ adjunct of choice, only appears in John Young’s London Lager (JYLL). But not in the stronger Premium Lager. The latter, as we’ve already seen, being brewed all malt.

Had I not spoken to former Youngs brewer John Hatch, I wouldn’t have realised torrefied barley was in most of the beers. As in the brewing record it’s just described as “flakes”. Which in most cases means flaked barley. Not here. Where it’s flaked torrefied barley.

It pops up in most of the top-fermenting beers, other than the Black Beers and Export Pale Ale. I assume that one of its roles is to aid head retention.

Finally, we come to flaked oats. Which, now here’s a shock, only appear in Oatmeal Stout. While 6% might not seem much, it’s way more than was used in earlier London Oatmeal Stours. Which had only about 1% oats. 

Youngs adjuncts in 1990-1991
Year	Beer	Style	roast barley	flaked maize	torrefied barley	flaked oat	total adjuncts
1990	JYLL	Lager		9.16%			9.16%
1991	Premium Lager	Pilsner					0.00%
1990	Light Ale	Pale Ale			7.18%		7.18%
1990	PA	Pale Ale			6.14%		6.14%
1990	SPA	Pale Ale			6.96%		6.96%
1990	Export	Pale Ale					0.00%
1990	Porter	Porter	2.61%				2.61%
1991	Oatmeal Stout	Stout	4.50%			6.00%	10.50%
1991	Winter Warmer	Strong Ale			4.43%		4.43%
1990	Old Nick	Barley Wine			4.88%		4.88%
Source:
Young's brewing record held at Battersea Library, document number YO/RE/1/59.

Listen to brewer John Hatch explain how they brewed at Youngs in the 1990s.  

Youngs malts in 1990-1991

Moving on now to the ingredients. Kicking off, logically enough, with the malts. Of which there are a few. Not all that many. But that’s made up for by the adjuncts, to which we’ll get later.

Two are base malts: pale and lager. The former being used in most of the beers and the latter in, well, the two Lagers. Nothing odd there. In earlier decades, more base malts had been used. With the bitters using pale ale malt and Mild and Burton using mild malt.

I suppose that you could argue that enzymic malt was also a base malt, as it did have diastatic power. That wasn’t its main use, though. It was to lower the pH of the mash. Which is why it didn’t appear in the Porter or Stout, where the roast grains fulfilled that function.

The Lagers only contain lager malt. With the Premium Lager being all malt. Leaving it Reinheitsgebot compliant. Not sure if that was the intention of the brewery, or just a happy accident.

There’s quite a bit of variation in the proportion of malt in the grist. Ranging from a high of 100% in the Premium Lager, to low of 66% in Old Nick. I think that it’s no coincidence that the percentage was lowest in the latter. The strongest beer that Youngs brewed.

Quite a dark crystal malt was used: 150 L. Which is probably why the Pale Ales all contained less than 2%. Which is a bit contrast with the Porter, where it was a massive 16%. In the two Strong Ales, Winter Warmer and Old Nick, the proportion was a more reasonable 5%.

Youngs malts in 1990-1991
Year	Beer	Style	pale malt	lager malt	crystal malt	enzymic malt	Total malt
1990	JYLL	Lager		84.73%			84.73%
1991	Premium Lager	Pilsner		100.00%			100.00%
1990	Light Ale	Pale Ale	83.25%		2.87%	2.87%	89.00%
1990	PA	Pale Ale	85.17%		1.53%	3.07%	89.77%
1990	SPA	Pale Ale	84.22%		1.74%	3.13%	89.10%
1990	Export	Pale Ale	90.48%		1.59%	3.97%	96.03%
1990	Porter	Porter	73.04%		15.65%		88.70%
1991	Oatmeal Stout	Stout	81.00%				81.00%
1991	Winter Warmer	Strong Ale	70.85%		5.54%	6.64%	83.03%
1990	Old Nick	Barley Wine	58.54%		4.88%	2.44%	65.85%
Source:
Young's brewing record held at Battersea Library, document number YO/RE/1/59.

 

Listen to brewer John Hatch explain how they brewed at Youngs in the 1990s.  

Let's Brew - 1960 Youngs XXX Ale

Here’s a special treat. A Burton Ale that was called Burton Ale. As this is before Youngs changed the name of theirs to Winter Warmer.

Given that this example was brewed in July, it seems obvious that it was still a year-round beer at this point and not a winter seasonal, as it later became.

It’s a bit different to 1990s recipes. As Youngs were still brewing a Mild Ale and could parti-gyle their Burton Ale with that. Which is exactly what happened in this case. Meaning that this is effectively a strong Mild. Much like the Old Ales brewed in the South of England. For example, Adnams or Harveys.

As was typical for Dark Mild, the darkest malt is crystal. With the majority of colour coming from No. 3 invert and caramel. The latter being in the form of CDM (Caramelised Dextro-Maltose). Does anyone still manufacture that?

Two types of English hops, one from the 1958 harvest and one from 1959. Pretty much the same as in all their other beers. 

1960 Youngs XXX Ale
mild malt	7.25 lb	67.25%
crystal malt 150 L	1.00 lb	9.28%
flaked maize	1.50 lb	13.91%
pale malt extract	0.33 lb	3.06%
No. 3 invert	0.50 lb	4.64%
caramel 500 SRM	0.200 lb	1.86%
Fuggles 105 min	1.00 oz
Goldings 30 min	1.00 oz
OG	1050
FG	1014
ABV	4.76
Apparent attenuation	72.00%
IBU	24
SRM	17
Mash at	151º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	105 minutes
pitching temp	58º F
Yeast	WLP002 English Ale

 

Listen to brewer John Hatch explain how they brewed at Youngs in the 1990s.  

Wandering back

No need to get up very early. Breakfast lasts until 10. And Peter is picking us up at 11.

We enter the breakfast room at 8:30. There aren’t many others there.

I give the spread a look over. Surprisingly, there is some warm food. Which is a plus. No bacon. There is scrambled egg. And baked beans. Not bad.

I get some cheese to go with my scrambled egg. Recreating a South American breakfast. I’m so imaginative.

Dolores gets herself a boiled egg and some beans. The egg is rock hard all the way through. And cold. And rather green. She doesn’t eat it. I don’t blame her.

“Are your scrambled eggs warm?” She asks.

“Not really.”

“My beans are cold, too.”

The tea and coffee are warm. Which is something.

We don’t rush. Hanging around until 10, drinking coffee and generally chilling.

Back in our room, we prepare for the train. I create one of my “special” drinks by decanting the remainder of my expensive whisky into a half-emptied cols bottle. 

“That should keep me warm inside.”

“Don’t go crazy, Ronald.”

“When do I ever go crazy?”

“Let’s not have this conversation again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just don’t go crazy with the whisky on the train.”

Peter van der Meer picks us up at 11 on the dot. And is soon setting us down at Essen Hauptbahnhof.

It’s surprisingly busy for a Sunday morning. I notice that the sandwiches are way cheaper than in Düsseldorf Hauptbahnhof. I wonder why that is? I suppose they just charge what they can get away with.

I just hang around guarding our luggage and taking in the vibes, while Dolores does some shopping.

The train to Viersen is pretty full. We’re lucky to get seats. Where we’re jammed in with our luggage. This is fun. 

An awful lot of people get off at Viersen with us. That’s not a good sign. As they don’t leave the station. Looks like they’re all headed for Holland, too. Bum.

When the Venlo train pulls in, it looks full. Very full. Triple bum. We have trouble squeezing ourselves in. Looks like we’ll be standing all the way to Venlo. I think that serves a: fuck!

A bloke has his bag on one of the fold-down seats. He takes pity on me and shifts his bag so I can sit down. Brilliant!! I might make it back to Amsterdam alive.

Everyone is bound for Holland. For King’s Day, which is tomorrow. There’s another stampede at Venlo, as everyone rushes to the platform where the Amsterdam train is.

Fortunately, it’s a much larger train than the one from Viersen. We manage to find a coach that’s pretty empty. With no need to use Dolores’s train elbows. Honed on many a Deutsche Reichsbahn journey, when she was a student. 

Now there’s enough space for me to enjoy my “special drink”, which I haven’t touched so far.

“Don’t go crazy with the whisky, Ronald.”

“No need to worry. You know me.”

“Exactly. That’s why I’m asking you to not go crazy.”

“You don’t have much faith in me.”

“I’m just realistic.”

“Cynical, more like.”

The train starts to fill up the further we get into Holland. All going to Amsterdam for King’s Day. The centre is going to be packed. As usual. Luckily, I don’t have to go there.

Fortunately, this train isn’t going to Amsterdam Centraal. Just Amsterdam Zuid and Schiphol. Loads of people get off in Utrecht to switch to a train headed for Centraal. Emptying our carriage out nicely.

“Why are you filming fields again?”

“It’s for a video.”

“One of those that forces people to listen to your horrible music?”

“It isn’t horrible music.”

“Then why will no-one listen to it voluntarily?”

Dolores can be very cruel.

The last part of the journey is nice and quiet. Which is how I like my journeys: quiet and uneventful.

We don’t have to wait long for a bus. Soon we’re trundling into our flat. With the children rushing up joyfully to greet us. I wish. Andrew is absorbed by his laptop. And Alexei is upstairs in his room.

“Is the tea ready, Andrew?” I ask.

“Very funny, Dad. Make it yourself if you want some.”

How charming.

“I suppose you don’t want a cup then?”

“I didn’t say that.”

It’s great to be home. 

 

 

A couple of videos about our trip to Essen.

 

 

 

Me talking about the history of IPA

Excerpts from my talk on the history of IPA at Fronhauser Sudwerkstatt. Fairly short excerpts, as the talk was 150 minutes. I hard to stop once I get started.

 

Away we go

“Do you fancy coming to Essen, Dolores?”

“Why are you going there?”

“I’m giving a talk.”

“Are you getting paid?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. Maybe.”

Such enthusiasm.

Dolores had already agreed to come, when she discovered that the trains to Germany were buggered up on the relevant weekend. Some sort of works on the rails. Normally, we could get a train to Duisburg – under two hours – and then have a short hop on the S-Bahn to Essen.

Except the ICE service to Düsseldorf and Cologne is diverted via Venlo. Using that, getting to Essen would involve changing a couple of times. And take getting on for four hours, rather than two and a bit.

“How will we get there?” Dolores asked.

“Good question.”

“An answer would be nice.”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Business as usual, then.”

“Haha.”

“Just sort it out.”

“OK.”

Not wanting to invoke the wrath of Dolores, I did some poking around on the internet. And found an alternative route. Taking an NS train to Venlo and then changing to a couple of regional German trains. Not just quicker, but also more convenient. As the tickets would be valid for every train, not just specific ones.

Problem solved. Dolores happy. Me happy.

We leave home around 10:30 bound for Amsterdam Zuid. Now there’s another advantage of this route: we don’t have to go to Amsterdam Centraal. Through the tourist hell of the city centre.

Amsterdam Zuid is more of a commuter station. Currently undergoing a massive rebuilding programme. Sometime in the not-too-distant future the motorway will disappear underground. Currently, cars whizz past just a few metres away from the platforms. Lovely.

The service to Venlo is one of the longest train journeys you can take from Amsterdam, without running of the edge of the country. Lasting around two hours. We settle in for the ride.

I’m so used to stupidly long flights that a couple of hours seems like fuck all. Especially in the comfort of a train. Dolores is playing with her new MP3 player. While I read the latest Viz. I’m feeling quite relaxed. And A true intellectual.

I take some video of the fields.

“People like cows.” I say, defensively.

“You’re weird. No-ne wants to see boring fields.”

“With cows in them. “

“Right. A few cows suddenly make fields interesting.”

“More interesting.”

“Than what?”

“A field without cows.”

“You’re weird and stupid.”

There’s a bit of a stampede in Venlo as pretty well everyone on our train rushes to get onto the German one. We’re lucky enough to get seats. Rather crammed in mind, as the carriages weren’t built with luggage in mind.

Everything ran perfectly smoothly while we were in Holland. Virtually as soon as we cross the border, things start going wrong. With our train stopping to wait foe freight trains. We miss our planned connection in Viersen. The train service in Germany has turned to total shit. It makes the Dutch railways look like those of Japan.

It’s a rather desolate station. With half a dozen windswept platforms and not much else. 

“Would you fancy moving here, Dolores?”

“No. I’d rather move back to Eisenach?”

“You’d be up for that then?”

“No. There’s nothing to do there. I just wouldn’t want to move here. It looks shit.”

“Far enough. I wouldn’t want to move back to Newark, either.”

Not unless the only other option was Grantham. Newark’s evil twin. I’d rather move to hell. Or Newark. Not much difference, really.

Luckily, we don’t have to wait very long. Just 15 minutes for the next Essen-bound train. Which is also pretty crowded. We do find seats, though.

We’re being collected at Essen Hauptbahnhof by Peter van der Meer. Owner and brewer of Frohnhauser Sudwerkstatt. A tiny brewery in an inner-city suburb of Essen. I send him a message to let him know that we’re running a little late.

We don’t have to wait long for Peter to pick us up and whisk us off to our hotel. My talk not being scheduled to start for a few hours, we have a chance to relax in our room. Though there’s only space for one of us to stand at a time. And getting onto the toilet requires some contortion.

We drop by Lidl for supplies. 

All the essentials. Rolls, cheese and ham for the journey back to Amsterdam. And a bottle of the cheapest whisky. Under 7 euros on special offer. Fuck me, that’s cheap. It would be stupid not to buy a bottle. And I pride myself on not being an idiot. (Not that the kids would agree with me on that.)

“I hope you’re not going to drink all that whisky tonight.”

“No, that’s a sipping whisky.”

“At under 7 euros a bottle?”

“Yes, I’ll last all of today and tomorrow.”

“That’s “sipping”? Drinking a bottle of whisky in two days?”

“Sounds like a challenge to me.”

“Fuck off, Ronald. Just drink yourself to death.”

“Sounds like a . . .”

“Fuck off.”

We marvel at bottles of organic wine for under two euros a pop. Almost as good value as the whisky. Wondering why Dutch cheese is cheaper here than at home. And why eggs increase 50% in price when they cross the border into Holland.

A tear comes to my eye when I get to the checkout and see 100 ml bottles of Chantré next to the sweets. It’s the classic impulse Schnapps. Heartwarming to see the tradition alive and well.

We wander down to the brewery around 17:30. And get stuck into some beer. Just to get my throat lubricated for all the talking I’ll be doing. Which is quite a lot.

My talk is on the history of IPA. And Peter has brewed five historic beers to go along with it. 1838 Combe IPA, 1877 Truman P1, 1911 Whitbread IPA, 1939 Barclay Perkins IPA and 1991 West Coast IPA.

The beers are served at appropriate points in the talk. And I actually get to properly drink them this time. Very nice they are, too.

It’s a pretty relaxed talk. With me digressing on wild tangents a few times. With a short break in the middle, I talk for 2.5 hours. Plenty of laughs. And interesting questions. When it goes well, I really love talking. 

Though, let’s be honest, I love talking even when it isn’t going great. Like with my audience of one in Brazil a couple of years back. I just like talking when no-one is allowed to interrupt me. Unlike in most of my life.

I feel pretty knackered when I’m done. But happy. Time for more beer.

A bottle of 1980s DDR Berliner Weisse appears. Such wonderful stuff, even after all these years.

I don’t stay up too late. I’m too old for that nonsense. And I want to be human for the train back to Amsterdam. With Deutsche Bahn, you never know what might happen.



Frohnhauser Sudwerkstatt 
Pollerbergstrasse 3
45145 Essen
https://www.frohnhauser-sudwerkstatt.de/

 

A couple of videos about the trip.