Let's Brew Wednesday - Fullers 1914 AK

You know my feelings about AK. Obsessive doesn't do them justice. Fanatical is too mild. All-consuming? No still doesn't go far enough.

Personal reminiscences and a bit of name dropping. I'll be weaving those into today's trousers. Hope I don't end up with my arse hanging out of them.

The hot summer of 1975. I was so disappointed when the bastards at the dole office found me a job. Until I found out it was in a brewery. Even though they didn't brew any cask beer. How many kegs did I fill with AK that summer? A lot. Definitely a lot more than with IPA. AK was the brewery's biggest seller. Just as it had been when it said Hole's rather than Courage above the gate.

I must have drunk Courage AK at some point. The stuff was ubiquitous. Courage owned all but five (four Home Ales, one Watney) of the 30-odd pubs in Newark. But I can't remember it at all.Was it hoppy? Malty? Sweet? No idea, I'm afraid. I can remember Barnsley Bitter. That was a lovely drop, dry and scorchingly bitter, in the steady persistent way of a good British Pale Ale.

Finding the truth about AK was one of the pushes that propelled me through the archive doors. Yet it wasn't in an archive that I first caught a glimpse of one through the trees. It was sitting in John Keeling's office the first time I dropped by Fuller's. He had one of their old brewing logs on his table. 1910 or thereabouts. John is an easy man to listen to. Full of stories and facts. But something pulled my attention away from his words like a freight train loco. Idly flicking through the log I saw the magic letters appear: AK. It's a moment I'll never forget.

Fuller's AK is a special beer to me for that reason. I'm delighted that we're able to present you with it today. Enjoy it.





Time for Kristen to do his thang . . . . . . . . .

Fullers - 1914 - AK
General info:
What a wonderful little AK. Nearly equal OG:BU ration made with simple pale malts, maize and a bunch of sugar. Such an easy drinking little number that this one will definitely be one of my house beers from now on. Very sessiony but not really a session beer with the alcoholski!
Beer Specifics			Recipe by percentages
Gravity (OG)	1.045		47.5% English pale malt			0% 0
Gravity (FG)	1.009		16.3% Continental pale malt			0% 0
ABV	4.78%		16.3% American 6-row			0% 0
Apparent attenuation	79.61%		5.9% Flaked Maize			5.9% Invert No1
Real attenuation	65.22%		0% 0			7.9% Invert No2
IBU	41		0% 0			00
SRM	5
EBC	9.1		Mash	95min@149°F		1.04qt/lb
				95min@65°C		2.17L/kg
Caramel to add	0srm
			Boil	1.5 hours
	Homebrew @ 70%				Craft @ 90%
Grist	5gal		19L		20bbl		20hl
English pale malt	4.04	lb	1.837	kg	389.17	lb	150.36	kg
Continental pale malt	1.39	lb	0.632	kg	133.78	lb	51.69	kg
American 6-row	1.39	lb	0.632	kg	133.78	lb	51.69	kg
Flaked Maize	0.50	lb	0.230	kg	48.65	lb	18.80	kg
Invert No1	0.50	lb	0.230	kg	48.65	lb	18.80	kg
Invert No2	0.67	lb	0.306	kg	64.86	lb	25.06	kg
					818.88
Hops
Cluster 7% 105min (31bu)	1.02	oz	28.9	g	126.58	oz	3.058	kg
Fuggle 5.5% 60min (6bu)	0.29	oz	8.1	g	35.62	oz	0.861	kg
Styrian Goldings 5.25% 20min (4bu)	0.30	oz	8.5	g	37.32	oz	0.902	kg
Goldings 4.5% dry hop	0.27	oz	7.6	g	33.41	oz	0.807	kg
Fermentation	67°F /19.4°C
Yeast	Nottingham
	1968 London ESB Ale Yeast  - WLP002 English Ale Yeast
Tasting Notes:
Pomme and squishy fruit, biscuits and lady fingers, grainy. Spicy and hoppy. Loads of husk and grain. Long bitter biscuity with a touch of honey on the end.

Kristen’s Version:

Ingredients
Grist–Three malts, some maize and two sugars. Easy peasy. I really like Maris Otter hear, especially the last two years one with the ‘honeyed’ character. Any continental pale malt will do just fine but I really like the character of the Belgian stuff. The American 6-row really shines here as it brings out a lot of the husk and grain and complexity of this beer. The inverts are pretty much at a great proportion. Any less No2 you lose the hints of fruit and more would make them stand out too much. I tried Golden Syrup for the No1 and there was too much toffee character for my taste.

Hops–Lots of different hops here. American, Belgian and English. The Cluster really add a strong bitter that last long through the finish. The combo of StyrianGoldings and EKG really do a very nice job of being spicy and fruity. The little bit of hops on the end really come through well. You can swap out the beginning hops for really any ones but the end I think you need to stick with the Goldings combo.


Yeast – The Fullers yeast really works the best. If in a pinch, the Nottingham does a pretty good job also.

Time marches on

I've just spent a weekend in Newark-upon-Trent, home to my youth*. It being a while since my last visit, the changes were all that more obvious.

You're here for the beer. I won't sedate you with the redevelopment of the bus station, nor the new surgery behind the Robin Hood Hotel (sadly derelict and in imminent danger of collapse). I'll stick to beery matters.

On my last visit, the saddest sight was a blank-eyed Woolpack. The town's last unmodernised pub, with a multi-room layout and more than 500 hundred years behind it. I feared it would never open again. Or be gutted. Not sure which would have been worse.

Neither happened. It's been tarted down and re-opened as the Prince Rupert. There are still two distinct rooms, the ancient flags continue to flag the floor and the beams have been exposed. I can't remember them being hidden, myself. Not much of  a ceiling spotter.

A really nice job. Most important of all: they let kids in. And have the wifi my kids need to go ticky-ticky-tack while I go slurpy-slurpy-slorp.

Anything that keeps them amused is OK by me. I had quite a nice pint (well, three, actually) of Orkney Dark Island. "An apple juice with six ice cubes, please." was Lexie's order. Don't know where he's learned to be so picky. It's not come from me, I can tell you.

Driving around town in my mate Henry's van, the kids bouncing around loose in the back, I noticed something (despite the sledgehammer I took to my senses at lunch). Suburban pubs are geography. No, physics. Social Sciences? RE? History. That's it. Suburban pubs are history. The Victorian backstreet locals, 1930's roadhouses and 1960's estate pubs. Pretty well all boarded up, converted or demolished. A couple of more recent pubs on the edge of town are still there, but that's about it. Drinking in Newark is, more than ever, concentrated in the town centre. I suspect this is typical of many English towns.

A genuine newcomer is Just Beer, in what my sister calls Wheelie-bin Yard. I won't go into how it got that name. Let's just say it's a typical example of Newark humour. As the name suggests, Just Beer sells . . . just beer. Just cask beer to more precise. (Well and cask cider, but let's not pedant out.) Beer from smaller brewers with less muscle to elbow their way onto bars. I'd give you a detailed description, but I didn't stay long. For one extremely swift half. I'd left the kids in the Prince Rupert and only dropped in to drag out Henry. I must visit properly next time I'm over.

The White Hind has reopened. Again. Never been in there and I never plan to. I'm proud of my full set of teeth.

I spent most time in Sir John Arderne. On the kids' insistence. The wifi is better than elsewhere. And they let kids in, because it's a Wetherspoons. I could try and claim that it's an unusually classy and elegant Wetherspoons. But it isn't. There's the same eclectic mix of thrifty parents eating with their kids, thrifty pensioners eating with their mates and thrifty middle-aged pissheads pissing it up. Two out of three. Yehay. Must be my sort of place. Where else can you get three meals, two soft drinks and pint and a double whisky for less than 20 quid?

Apologies for the photo of the Sir John Arderne. It really is the only one I took in the pub. Apart from ones with my kids on. And they've put a cross in the "no publicity" box. No amount of incentivisation can make them change their minds. Funnily enough, Lexie was greatly amused by the picture. I wish he hadn't noticed it. Maybe I shouldn't have said "Look Lexie, there's a picture of man sticking his finger up someone's arse."

["Is it appropriate to have that picture on your blog, dad?"

"It's on display in the family eating area of a pub, Andrew. Why shouldn't I have it on my blog?"]

At the third attempt, I found a pint without that eau de Sarson's aroma. I think it was Abbot. No, tell a lie, it was Ruddles Best. One of the most inappropriately-named beers ever.

Don't read that honest description as a criticism of Spoons. I wouldn't go in them if they didn't fulfill my needs: cask beer, cheap whisky, budget scran for the sprogs.

Warwick and Richardson's former brewery is, like Hole's, now flats. It lay derelict for years. Sad it no longer brews, but at least the building is there as a reminder of Newark's brewing past. Talking of which, here's something odd. Newark has no brewery. There are ones down the road in Grantham and even closer in Sutton-on-Trent. But not one in Newark itself. Odd, because it seems such an obvious town to start a brewery in. (I'd go for the name McGeorge and Heppenstall. It rolls off the tongue so easily.)

Talking of starting a brewery, that's exactly what Henry is planning. He certainly has the room, what with all the outbuildings there are around his house. He wants to concentrate on historic recreations. You can probably guess what my role will be. AK would be a good place to start. A nice session Mild for the farmers and labourers of the East Midlands.

Some philosophical shit about the inevitability of change. I could write that as a conclusion. I did write that, then deleted it. It was stinky grilleaux.

"Dad, did that roof survive WW II?"

"No Lexie, it was built in the 1960's, when John Easter lived here. He used to own the chip shop . . ."


"zzzzzzzzzzzzz"





* Baldo if we're splitting peas.


The Prince Rupert
46 Stodman Street,
Newark,
NG24 1AW
info@theprincerupert.co.uk
http://www.theprincerupert.co.uk/



Just Beer
Swan & Salmon Yard
32A Castlegate
Newark
NG24 1BG
http://www.justbeermicropub.biz/



Sir John Arderne
1-3 Church Street
Newark-on-Trent
Nottinghamshire
NG24 1DT
http://www.jdwetherspoon.co.uk/home/pubs/the-sir-john-arderne

Porter and cholera

Cholera killed thousands of British troops during the Crimean War. Porter was one of the things given to those struck down with the illness. Though it doesn't seem to have been all that effective.

Varna, 24th August 1854.

Sir,

I Have the honour to inform you that I have directed the Purveyor to put up and forward to you the medical comforts demanded in your requisitions of the 16th, 21st, and 22d instant.

It was an oversight of the Purveyor's that you did not receive the port wine which I directed him to forward along with the medicine's the other day in anticipation, as I thought of your wants.

I have sent the porter as you demanded it, but it has not been found to answer well by others who have tried it as a restorative after cholera.

I am, &c.

(Signed) J. Hall, Ins. Gen. of Hospitals.
"Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Inquire into the Regulations Affecting the Sanitary Condition of the Army, the Organization of Military Hospitals, and the Treatment of the Wounded, Appendix LXXIX", 1858 , page 146.

Given the war was during the 1850's when the vast majority of beer was still draught, it's surprising that there was bottled Porter in the hospitals. "Medical comfort" - what a wonderful way to describe booze.

Staff Surgeon Alexander to Dr. Hall.

Camp Monastir, 22d August 1854.

Sir,

As you will have seen, by the proceedings of the Board of Survey on Medical Comforts forwarded from this on the 19th instant, that the port wine had arrived, I have the honour to inform you that we have now only two bottles remaining, and will feel obliged by your desiring the requisition forwarded this day for the same to be sent out to us with as little delay as possible.

As medical officers have latterly been requiring bottled porter, and purchasing the same from the canteens at 2s. per bottle, would it not be advisable to have a supply sent out at once ?

I have accordingly desired Mr. Harrington to forward a requisition for the same, which is enclosed.

I have, &c.

(Signed) T. Alexander, Staff Surgeon, 1st Class.

P.S.—Enclosed is report of all the deaths from cholera up to 12 p.m. of the 21st instant.

(Signed) T. A.

"Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Inquire into the Regulations Affecting the Sanitary Condition of the Army, the Organization of Military Hospitals, and the Treatment of the Wounded, Appendix LXXIX", 1858 , page 146

Two shillings (24d) for a bottle of Porter seems awfully expensive. A pint of Porter in a London pub cost 1.5d (2d if you wanted it without added water or drugs). Nice the way he threw in the report of cholera fatalities. Giving such a specific cutoff date and time implies there were rather a lot of them.

It wasn't just the sick soldiers who were given Porter. Those looking after them got some, too.

Mr. Archer to Dr. Hanbury.

General Hospital, Balaklava, Sir, 16th March 1855.

. . . . .

I respectfully submit, that every private employed about the hospital as orderly should be furnished with a mattress, boards, and tressels. and huts and 'tents be erected on a considerable higher level than that of the hospital, in which every orderly during his night off duty may occupy a bed reserved for his own special use, and that facilities for washing be afforded, with a change of clothing; that the men be not required to sit up more frequently than every third night, and in case of extra hospital orderlies being required at night from illness or other cause, that men having been on duty during the preceding night or day be excused from such extra duty; that each man be allowed a pint of porter daily, and in lieu of salt provisions, half a pound of preserved meat with vegetables; that each orderly be allowed one hour's leave of absence daily. Hoping you will excuse me troubling you with these suggestions,

I have, &c.

(Signed) Edward Archer.

"Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Inquire into the Regulations Affecting the Sanitary Condition of the Army, the Organization of Military Hospitals, and the Treatment of the Wounded, Appendix LXXIX", 1858 , page 195.

The mortality rate amongst the orderlies was particularly high. I'm not sure an extra pint of Porter a day would be worth the risk.

Why PA?

I'm a bit late for International IPA day. Which is perhaps just as well, as you'll be hearing no fawning words from me. No praise of hop showcasing or other such drivel.

I'll get this out of the way first. I almost never drink IPA. I quite like a decent Pale Ale - Harveys Sussex Best springs to mind - but the IPA bug has not stuck its fangs in me yet. I doubt it ever will. I don't like grapefruit, either in fruit, juice or hop form. And as for a beer that keeps whallopping me over the head to get my attention, no thank you. I prefer more polite beers.

But I won't be discussing my own personal preferences. Because, let's be honest, no-one really gives a shit about the likes and dislikes of others. Not unless they're married to them and want to stay that way. (The one thing that more than 20 years of marriage have taught me.)

No, I'm interested in a phenomenon. IPA inflation. Because it tells us something about styles. How they grow, develop and mutate. That I find fascinating.

In the beginning Hodgson created IPA (well, not really, but you'll allow me a little poetic licence, I hope). Pale, hoppy, you know the score. Sent initially to India, later guzzled back in blighty, too. Lacking style guidelines to guide them, Victorian brewers soon started confusing things. Sometimes they'd call a beer IPA, others Pale Ale. When a brewer made beers called both, the IPA might be the stronger, or it might be the PA. Like I said, there were no rules.

Finding the full-on hops and 6% ABV a bit much, some drinkers wanted something less challenging. A nice, light beer to help wash down their supper. An gaggle of beers arrived to fill the hole: Dinner Ale, Light Bitter, AK. Despite being quite different from the original IPA, these beers were still considered to belong to the Pale Ale family. (Family Ale, that's another one. One of my favourite beer names, in fact.) Quite distinct from IPA, yet they probably wouldn't have existed without it. The salt cellar of IPA dropped into the soup of 19th century brewing splashed many ties. The dry cleaning bills must have been enormous.

While Burton brewers remained faithful to the IPA they had married as teenagers, those elsewhere were more promiscuous. They brewed beers called IPA that were more in the Light Bitter vein. There not being any rules, no-one wagged any fingers and uttered the dread words "not true to style". Drinkers really didn't care about such ant shagging and got on with drinking the beers they liked, no matter what label the brewer had stuck on.

(Mmm. That introduction was longer than anticipated. never mind. Feel free to skip bits.)

Let's fastforward to the late 20th century. (Please let me know if any of this is wrong. American beer history isn't my area of expertise.) An early hit in the nascent microbrewing scene in the USA is Anchor Liberty Ale. Not actually called an IPA, but it inspires a string of hop-dominated beers that do. Soon IPA is the crafty drinkers fave.

Success breeds imitation. Everyone wants to share the IPA buzz. And those three letters help sell a beer. No wonder then, that it's not long before beers quite different from the original American IPA acquire them. Suddenly IPA has a whole family of prefixes. And the IPA family has filled its apartment and started looking for a nice big house in the suburbs. But some of the kids don't look much like their father. Are there cuckoos in the nest?

Let's do a roll-call and find out.

Double IPA
Imperial IPA
Black IPA
Belgian IPA
German IPA
Wheat IPA
Triple IPA

These beers could easily be classified in other styles. Double IPA - Strong Ale; Black IPA - Stout; Belgian IPA - Tripel; German IPA - Alt; Wheat IPA - Weizen Bock; Imperial/Triple IPA - Barley Wine. Why weren't they?

Because the name IPA sells. Call your beer Belgian IPA and it'll sell better than if you call it Tripel.

I don't expect IPA inflation to end soon. The whole IPA as favourite thing has to run its course. But when, inevitably, IPA falls out of favour, as all beer styles do, see what will happen. How quickly brewers drop the IPA suffix once it becomes a liabilty rather than an asset.

Here's an example. Many British Milds no longer have the word Mild in their name. Because they sell more that way. Mild conjours up images of old men, flat caps and whippets. Things no 20 year old (other than my younger self) wants to be associated with. The same will happen to IPA. It's a generational thing. No-one wants to listen to the same music as their father and grandfather. Nor wear the same clothes. Nor drink the same beer.

IPA should enjoy its time in the sun. The holiday won't last forever.

Rum and Porter in the Crimea

I've already spoken of the favoured tipples of British troops in India. Seems those sent to the Crimea had the same preferences: rum and Porter.

They actually asked the medical officers in the field which of the two was better:

Camp, 1st Division, 23d November 1855.

Medical officers of the staff and regimental medical officers in charge of regiments, are requested to give their opinion respecting the proposed change of serving out porter three days in the week, instead of the present ration of rum, as required by the accompanying letter (see Lord Arthur Hay's letter, 22nd November), which is to be returned.

(Signed) J. E. Williams,
Deputy Inspector General.

Dr. Sail, 1st Class Staff Surgeon, recommends old rum, and not porter.

Dr. Skelton, Coldstream Guards, recommends porter, if of good quality, which it has not recently been.

G. E. Blenkins, Battalion Surgeon, Grenadier Guards, old rum during the winter season.

Win. Thornton, Surgeon, 9th Regiment, rum as rations ; a limited portion of porter to be sold to the troops.

Dr. Barry, Surgeon, 13th Regiment, decidedly in favour of rum.

T. J. Atkinson, Assistant Surgeon, in charge of 31st Regiment, good old rum much preferable in cold weather to some porter.

W. Deeble, Surgeon, 56th Regiment, good old rum during the winter months.
"Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Inquire into the Regulations Affecting the Sanitary Condition of the Army, the Organization of Military Hospitals, and the Treatment of the Wounded, Appendix LXXIX", 1858 , page 210.

The doctors, as you can see, mostly went for rum. How many would dare say that today?

But, no matter what they were supplied with officially, the resourceful British soldiers knew how to get hold of hard liquor:

11th March 1855.

Proceedings of a board of medical officers assembled by order of Field Marshal Lord Raglan, G.C.B., Commanding in Chief, to inquire into and report on the sanitary condition of the army encamped before Sebastopol.

1st, Diet and Water. — So far as the Board have been able to ascertain, the rations at present furnished to the troops by the Commissariat appear ample, more than sufficient in quantity, and good in quality; indeed, so far as the quantity is concerned, it is well known that a great waste of food takes place,—the biscuit and salt meat is not only thrown away, but frequently sold to our allies for spirits, which, owing to the absence of any camp police, cannot be prevented. This may be attributable to two causes, a distaste or dislike for food which affords little variety, and the well-known penchant of the British soldier for spirits.
"Report of the Commissioners Appointed to Inquire into the Regulations Affecting the Sanitary Condition of the Army, the Organization of Military Hospitals, and the Treatment of the Wounded, Appendix LXXIX", 1858 , page 119.

"the well-known penchant of the British soldier for spirits" How wonderfully put.

Now I come to think of it, shouldn't they have been drinking Russian Stout? The Crimea was part of Russia after all. And what better to keep out the cold?

Three special beers

Three very special beers that I got to try in London. Ones based on stuff I've found in the archives. Other than that, they had little in common.

First was Devil's Backbone London Dark Lager, based on a Barclay Perkins recipe from the 1930's. You must have heard of it. I've been banging on about it for months. It's the beer I helped brew while in the USA in May. If I'm honest, the chance of trying it was one of the reasons I went to the GBBF.

First thing I did, once inside the hall, was to ask at the US cask bar when it would be on.

"There's a tick against it, so it'll be on at opening time."

Music to my ears. There was my first pint decided. "First pint? You drink pints at a beer festival?" I hear you ask. Yes. I do. Not only because of my hollow legs. Also because of my aching legs. I hate having to fetch beer every 5 minutes. And a half pint doesn't give most lower-strength beers a fair chance. The only time I regret it is the odd occasion I get a duff beer. This year, my only half was the only crap beer I had. Must be ESP.

Despite the distance it had travelled, the Dark Lager was in wonderful condition. Throwing itself into the glass, it formed an attractive, fine-beaded head. The taste was roastier than a Munich Dunkles and a little bitterer. Nowt wrong with that. It never claimed to be in the Munich style, just dark. A beer I'd definitely drink again. Come to think of it, I did. I slipped back for another pint later.

I gave the GBBF a miss on Saturday and headed instead for South London. The Anchor Bankside, Market Porter and Royal Oak were all hit until they couldn't get up any more.

Dropping by Kernel fitted in perfectly with the crawl. I fancied trying their 1890 Export Stout on draught and Evin had kindly invited me along. Black, with a fine tan collar, it didn't disappoint. I love the London Porter taste. The complex mix of coffee, mocha, cocoa and chocolate that brown malt brings to the party and generously hands around all those present. The Stout had the London taste in spades, clubs, hearts and diamonds. Lovely, lovely stuff.

Delightfully quirky place, Kernel, in a tunnel-like railway arch that stretches all the back to France. I'd like to have spent longer there, but Mike has itchy feet. He couldn't wait to visit the Royal Oak after all the glowing reports he'd heard of it.


The Royal Oak provided one of the best pints of the trip. A maniacally suicidal one that repeatedly surged down my throat before I could stop it. Drinkability cubed. Yet some wankers whine: "How can a Mild be the best beer in Britain?" Tossers who think anything under 5% ABV is worthless. The blinkered prejudice of geeks is as annoying as it's depressing. Beer is not safe in their hands.

Sunday was reserved for Greenwich. A couple of pubs, a roast dinner and a visit to The Old brewery to try their Royal Wedding beer, Lovibond's XXXX. Rod Jones, the brewer, had kept back a couple of bottles for me to try. Turned out that he'd also discovered a forgotten keg, giving me the chance to try it draught and bottled.

We kicked off with the draught. It looked a treat, with it's fine carbonation and pale hue. Surprisingly dry, the malt was the potatoes to the hops meat. Using American hops as early additions for bittering transforms their character. (Though this is how they were intended to be used. C hops like Cascade were bred for big brewers wanting more alpha acid for their buck.) Just a hint of fruit subtly strumming rhythm guitar behind a screaming wail of bitterness. Not what I'd expected, but dead tasty. And scarily drinkable for its 10% ABV.

The bottled version was sweetier, maltier and more rounded, but with the American hops still playing their unfamiliar tune. The drinkabilty was still there, sitting comfortably at the table with its hat and shoes off. I'm so glad I brought a couple of bottles home with me to brighten some gloomy winter night.

Three special beers now with special memories to match. I'm a lucky git.

Arctic Ale

You know what just struck me? I haven't mentioned Allsopp for ages. A while, anyway. I never get bored of Allsopp. Or any of the Burton brewers for that matter. I assume you don't. Otherwise you'd have given up on this blog long ago.

Arctic Ale. The legendary Allsopp beer that genuinely was brewed for arctic expeditions. At least in the 19th century. The beer continued to be brewed well into the 20th century, albeit at a much lower gravity. And without the romance of sitting out the winter on a ice-bound ship.

As so often, Barnard is a handy source. He did exactly what I would have done had I been getting a private tour of Allsopps: he asked for details of Arctic Ale. And a taste, the cheeky monkey. Let's see what he had to report:

Before taking leave of Dr. Griess we requested to be shown the samples of the celebrated "arctic ale," of which we have heard so much in clays gone by, and which was specially brewed by Messrs. Allsopp & Sons at the request of the Government for the arctic expeditions in 1852, under Captain Sir Edward Belcher, C.B., and also in 1875 under Sir George Nares. We were sorry to find that our desire to taste the ale brewed for the first expedition could not be granted, as Messrs. Allsopp & Sons had none of this particular shipment left; but that it must have been of an excellent quality may be inferred from the following extract from the report made to the Admiralty by Captain Sir Edward Belcher, C.B., in 1852, on the ale supplied by Allsopp & Sons for the arctic expedition under his command:—

"H.M.S. Assistance  Captain Sir Edward Belcher, C.B.
"A most important and valuable aid — a valuable antiscorbutic. Found, by experiments made at a temperature of -42° on deck, to stand +12 before affording any symptom of congelation. . . . Very good, and very important"

"H.M.S. Resolute — Captain Henry Kellett, CB.
Kept exceedingly well, and sought after by all."

"H.M.S. North Star — Commander W. J. S. Pullen.
"The best drink for arctic regions."

We were also shown a letter from Sir Edward Belcher, under date January 27th, 1854, in reference to the ale supplied to the arctic squadron, from which the following is an extract:—

"As I consider 93° below the freezing point last season, and 91.5, with 84 hours at a mean of —55º a pretty fair trial for external atmosphere, I have no hesitation in stating that it is not injured by freezing, which I expressly tried (finding its point of congelation to be +12.5), and that I reserved a portion of the semi-frozen, decanted from the spongy mass, and re-bottled it in a pint bottle. It has indeed been a great blessing to us, particularly for our sick, as long as it lasted. It is now a daily source of lamentation that the Phoenix did not convey fresh supplies."

However, respecting the ales supplied to the Government Expedition of 1875, we had ample opportunity, by direct inspection, to convince ourselves of its superiority. We found it of a nice brown colour, and of a vinous, and at the same time, nutty flavour, and as sound as on the day it was brewed. The ale, although of a high original strength, viz., 1.130 sp. gr., equal to about 47 lbs. per barrel, did not show a very high alcoholic strength; in fact, an analysis made in 1881 proved that it contained not more than about 9 per cent, of alcohol by weight (about 20 per cent, proof spirit). Owing to the large amount of unfermented extract still remaining in it, it must be considered as an extremely valuable and nourishing food. That the Government was also well satisfied with this shipment may be inferred from a letter of Sir George Nares, under date February, 1875, which closes with the following pertinent remarks:—

"Excellent. Would recommend as large a quantity as can possibly be stowed away to lie supplied to every future expedition."

The following is a copy of another letter — selected from many more that we were permitted to peruse — addressed to Messrs. Allsopp, January 3rd, 1877:—

"Gentlemen,
"Might I take the liberty of asking you to give me what information you may deem desirable regarding the ale you furnished to the late arctic expedition. I am desirous of knowing its composition as nearly as possible, its strength, etc.

"It kept splendidly in the arctic regions, and the fact of its freezing did not appear to detract from its good qualities in any way. It was highly appreciated by the men.
"I am, Gentlemen, yours very faithfully,
"THOMAS COLAN, M.D.,
"Fleet Surgeon and Senior Medical Officer to the Arctic Expedition."

"The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 1" by Alfred Barnard, 1889, pages 151 - 152.

I love those testimonials. They're a bit like those you see on cinema posters. Though you wonder, if like cinema posters, they've been selective in their editing. Like "The best drink for the arctic regions . . . if you have no rum or whisky." Resolute and North Star were, by the way, other ships that took part in Belcher's arctic expedition. The North Star was the only one to make it home, the others being left stuck in the ice. The Phoenix was a supply ship that they met on the way home. I can imagine the disappointment when they discovered it carried no beer.

Only freezing after 12 hours at -42º F is pretty impressive. That means you could happily stick a bottle in your freezer and not worry about it turning to ice. I would try the experiment myself, but I don't have any Arctic Ale. Unfortunately.

The idea of feeding the sick beer may sound odd today, but it was standard practice in the 19th century. This is the period that gave us such great styles as Invalid Stout. Judging by the strength of some of these, you could be forgiven for assuming they were intended to turn you into an invalid.

Let's now look at what Arctic Ale was. For once, there's a reasonable description: brown, vinous and nutty. Sounds like one of my more recent beer reviews. That it was still sound as bell after 13 years in the bottle attests to the keeping qualities of strong British beers. Yes, they made 'em to last in the old days. Not these new-fangled running beers that'll go sour before they drop bright.

Arctic Ale 1875 - 1965
Year	Brewer	Beer	Style	Price	size	package	Acidity	FG	OG	Colour	ABV	atten-uation
1875	Allsopp	Arctic Ale	Barley Wine			bottled		1044.3	1130		11.24	65.96%
1937	Ind Coope	Arctic Ale	Barley Wine	9d	halfpint	bottled		1018.7	1081.3		8.19	77.00%
1950	Ind Coope	Arctic Ale	Barley Wine	18d	nip	bottled	0.05	1020.1	1079.8	18 + 40	7.80	74.81%
1951	Ind Coope	Arctic Ale	Barley Wine	17.5d	nip	bottled	0.08	1019.1	1078.1		7.71	75.54%
1952	Ind Coope	Arctic Ale	Barley Wine	18d	nip	bottled	0.07	1020.2	1080.3	21 + 40	7.85	74.84%
1953	Ind Coope	Arctic Ale	Barley Wine	18d	nip	bottled	0.08	1018	1079	18 + 40	7.98	77.22%
1950	Ind Coope	Arctic Ale No. 1	Barley Wine		pint	bottled	0.10	1020.8	1079.9	40 + 16	7.72	73.97%
1956	Ind Coope	Arctic Barley Wine	Barley Wine	18d	nip	bottled	0.05	1019.7	1077.1	105	7.49	74.45%
1965	Ind Coope	Arctic Barley Wine	Barley Wine	21d	nip	bottled	0.04	1018.6	1078.6	85	7.84	76.34%
Sources:
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/001
"The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 1" by Alfred Barnard, 1889, page 152

You can see that in the 20th century Arctic Ale had a lower gravity and was more attenuated. Unusually, its strength didn't really drop between the 1930's and the 1960's. That wouldn't have been true of many beers. They had different standards in the 19th century. That's how Barnard can say that a beer of over 11% ABV "did not show a very high alcoholic strength". He'd fit right in with the modern geeks who think something 8% ABV can be a session beer.

The problem with a description like "a nice brown colour" is that you've no idea what shade Barnard considered brown. An analysis in the 1960's of a bottle from this batch came up with a colour of EBC 156. Which is pretty dark brown. It seems to have got progressively paler as the 20th century progressed, but remained fairly deep brown..

When was Arctic Ale last brewed buy Ind Coope? Probably later than 1965. But I'm sure it hasn't been around for a while. Other, obviously, than the Arctic Alchemy brew. Another sad loss to the British beer world.

Spot the mistakes time

It's spot the mistakes time again.

This is Snake River's description of their A.K. Session:

"AK Session is traditional English mild ale. Mild refers to its low hopping rate. Mild is an ale intended to be consumed in quantity, thus the name “session”. AK is thought to stand for “Ale Kyte”, Flemish for “small ale”. This is a tawny colored brew that was a favorite among the farmers and laborers of the West Midlands.  The alcohol content is 3.9% abv. This beer is a collaboration between Chris Erickson and Cory Buenning."

It's particularly annoying because AK is one of my favourite obsessions. Once rubbish like this takes hold, it's impossible to stamp out.

Beer and Porter - what are they made of?

Lying bastards. Anti-alcohol campaigners. A bunch of lying bastards prepared to tell any lie to scare the ignorant. It's a continuing theme for the last 150 years.

Nowadays it's doctors with an axe to grind or shit journalists in search of a sensational headline. Inconvenient facts are ignored and figures distorted to fit the author's point of view. Back in Victorian days they had whole publications full of the vilest calumny.

Some articles are full of such rubbish that they become works of comedy. Inadvertent satires you'd be hard pressed to better. Like the text below.

"BEER AND PORTER — WHAT ARE THEY MADE OF?

(From the Temperance Reciter.)

John.—Well, Fred., how do you get on? How do you and teetotalism agree? Not looking very pale— not got any thinner.

Fred.—Why, for the matter of that, John, I don't see how a teetotaler should be thinner or paler than other people,—except perhaps such folks as the fat, red-nosed topers, sometimes to be met with; but then you know such people never enjoy good health.

John.—You are quite right. It is impossible that such people can be healthy. How can any one be healthy when he is pouring poison down his throat day after day?

Fred.—Now you mention poison, it reminds me that you promised some time ago to tell me all about the qualities and composition of beer and other liquors.

John.—Well, just let us take beer. My father has a brewer's guide, which gives a full account of the way to make different kinds of beer, ale, and porter. I've studied that book a little.

Fred.—Then you must know something about it.

John.—Yes; there are London porter, London ale, Burton ale, Welsh ale, bitter ale, Scotch ale, and so on.

Fred.—I've heard that London porter is made of river-water. Is that true?

John.—Quite true. But the London breweries are not the only ones that use river-water. Most breweries are built by the side of a river, as river-water is considered best for brewing.

Fred.—Why so?

John.—Because there are certain materials mixed with the water that give substance and flavour to the article brewed, whether it be porter or beer.

Fred.—I want to know what the materials are?

John.—I can't describe them all, but I will some of them. You know our house is on one side of the river, and the Albion Brewery is on the other, so that I can see from our leads what goes on there.

Fred.—Yes, yes, exactly so—capital.

John.—Well, the engine pumps up a great quantity of water in a day into the tank or reservoir or the top of the building; from there it is drawn off to the boiler for brewing.

Fred.—But how about the materials? What is there beside water?

John.—I am going to tell you what I have seen In the first place, there are half-a-dozen drains or sewers all along the river-wall, and these empty their filth into the river at no great distance from the pump.

Fred.—Oh! what a treat! Shocking!

John.—In the second place, after the engine has been pumping for some hours, I notice a quantity of scum on the surface of the water just round the pump.

Fred.—What is the scum like?

John.—Why, filth—rotten straw, pieces of stick, dead dogs and cats, and even dead rats; and there are thousands of live rats in the holes besides.

Fred.—Why, surely some of that must be drawn up by the pump?

John.—No doubt about that, and I'll tell you all I know: every Monday morning two men go into the tank to clean it out, one with a broom and the other with a shovel.

Fred.—Oh beer! thy name is filth.

John.—So, after the one with the broom has swept up the mud and filth and bones into a corner, the other takes his shovel and throws it back into the river, where it stays till it is pumped up with some more of the same sort at the next pumping.

Fred.—Well, this is the sort of water people give threepence a pint for! Give me the pump where I can get it clean, and for nothing. Good bye, till we meet again.
"The Adviser. A monthly magazine for young people", 1853, pages 111 - 113.

The irony is that in the 1850's it was drinking water that was likely to be full of god knows what. While beer was brewed from pure well water.

Seems to me that if you have to resort to such blatant lies, you can't be very secure about your argument.