London Goose day two (part three)

I’ve been around a lot of breweries in the last few years. To be honest, most of them look pretty much the same: stainless steel kettles, stainless conicals, bourbon barrels stacked in a corner.

The ones that stand out as being very different have one thing in common: they’ve been around a long while and retain lots of old equipment. Which for a historian like me makes them especially interesting. They’re the 3-D reality of what I’ve read in text books.

That’s why I’m so excited to get a look inside Harvey’s. A brewery that, in most respects, is brewing pretty much the same as they did before WW II with equipment that hasn’t really changed since then.  Thirty or forty years ago this wouldn’t have been unusual, even in regional or national breweries.

One of the biggest transformations has been in fermentation vessels. I can count on the fingers of one hand new breweries I’ve visited that use anything other than conical fermenters. Even in these exceptional cases, usually it’s a fermenter or two for special beers, with the bulk of fermentation still taking place in conicals. How much impact has the universal use of conicals had on beer flavour? I suspect a lot.

I’m delighted – but not surprised – that Harvey’s have an old-fashioned fermentation room full of squares and rounds. The squares are indeed almost square and relatively shallow. Inside there are loose devices resembling radiators. Miles Jenner confirms what I suspected: they’re attemperators.

“I prefer loose attemperators because they’re easier to keep clean.” He explains.

I spot another device in a different fermenter, un upturned cone. I know for sure what that is. It’s a parachute, used for removing yeast from the top of fermenting wort. Isn’t this fun? Getting to see all these exotic piece of equipment.

There are fermenters in every phase. Some just cleaned and empty, others full of fiercely fermenting wort, others where the yeast is clearly about done. And everywhere the lovely fresh smell of fermentation. Plus the prickle of CO2 in the nostrils.

We head downstairs to the racking cellar, which is sensibly placed below the fermenters. The beer is run off through the simple expedient of an outlet in the bottom of the fermenter. It doesn’t have any great distance to travel. Not a lot is going on as no casks are being filled today.

On the same floor are the yeast stores. Simply a couple of cooled rooms filled with buckets of yeast. There’s an interesting story about Harvey’s yeast.

They used to get their yeast from a company in Burton that specialised in collecting yeast and selling it on to brewers around the country. When that firm closed in 1957, they had to find an alternative supply. After a bit of experimentation they settled on John Smiths.

Almost 60 years later, they’re still using it. But they haven’t cultured it. They’ve been repitching all that time, for what must be several thousand generations. It’s two strains that work symbiotically. Well, technically three, but we’ll get to that later.

Next Miles proudly shows us his new kegging system. For several years they had no kegging capacity, taking out the old system after the flood. It’s pretty small, the new equipment. Then again the vast majority of their beer is sold in cask form, a staggering 95%. I was going to say that I doubt anyone can match that. Then I remembered Donnington and Hook Norton. It wouldn’t surprise me if cask were a similar proportion there.

Our final stop is the bottling line. Which looks much like any other. Except for the bottles. Harvey’s is the last brewery in the UK to use returnable bottles. I’m amazed to hear that. Returnable bottles are dead common in Holland.

I say the bottling line was our final stop. Final stop before the sampling room, I should have said. It’s a pretty tiny space with a few casks along one wall and a sink. Miles fetches some bottles of Imperial Stout for us to try. Without labels, as they need to know the destination before labelling the bottles. Obviously, ones for the US require different labels with all the US legal requirements on them.

I should remember what Miles tells us about the fermentation. Because I was at his presentation on Harvey’s Imperial Stout in March this year. Harvey’s has a particular and peculiar secondary conditioning. They don’t add Brettanomyces, as you might expect. Instead it’s a third yeast in their pitching blend that’s responsible. It does nothing during primary and during the first nine months in tank it remains dormant. Then all hell breaks loose and there’s a violent fermentation.

The yeast responsible is neither Saccharomyces nor Brettanomyces but Debaryomyces, something I’ve never heard of. It certainly makes a very interesting beer.

Harvey’s have also started making an unaged version of their Imperial Stout called Prince of Denmark. It’s a good bit weaker, much sweeter and without the aged character from the Debaryomyces. But it’s still a cracking drink.

Before we leave, Miles gives some bottles to take with us. Including both versions of the Stout. But we can’t resist diving into their shop on the way out to pick up some more bottles. The others buy other memorabilia, too. But I’m under strict instructions from Dolores: “Don’t bring back any more junk, Ronald.”

We’ve a little while to wait for our train. But handily there’s a licensed buffet on the platform. No interesting beers, so I get us a round of Glenmorangie. “Do you want to drink them here or take them with you?” How civilised.

Despite us travelling against the grain, there’s another scrum for seats. We sit next to a young chap with a bottle of Peroni in front of him. As we’re all brandishing beers, it seems an appropriate place to sit.

After we’ve cracked our beers we get chatting with a woman in her fifties sitting across the aisle. I can see that she’s slightly bemused by our beer obsession. She didn’t even realise there was a brewery in Lewes. We drink a few beers, chat and soon the journey has evaporated.

Back in Victoria, we need to quickly cross town for dinner. Which is with the full Goose Island crew at the Jugged Hare on Chiswell Street. That gets my attention. The home of Whitbread’s brewery, most of which is still standing. The pub must have been a Whitbread house at one time as it’s in the same block as the brewery.

Not that it’s really a pub. Well not most of it. A restaurant really, with a small bar at the front. The food, as you might guess from the name, is mostly game. I have a steak. My third in two days. That’ll be my meat ration for the next couple of months.

It’s been a long and tiring day. But a fun one. I sleep the sleep of the well sated.



The Jugged Hare  
49 Chiswell St,
London EC1Y 4SA.
Tel: +44 20 7614 0134
http://www.thejuggedhare.com/

Random Dutch beers (part forty-four)

I've promised Dolores I'm going to clear the living room floor. Time to tackle some more of the Boks cluttering it up.

Starting with new/old brewer De Leckere:

De Leckere Rode Toren, 6.5% ABV
I think this is the first normal strength Bok I've had this year. All the others have been dubbels. This is another relatively pale job. Just about brown rather than amber. It smells malty and creamy. Wow, this is low-quality stuff. You should try wacking out beer desriptions. Three beers in and the cliches roll like good times. It's inoffensively malty in the mouth, not too sweet, the tiniest drop of balancing bitterness. Very old school again and very drinkable.

Today I'm cooking my first Sunday lunch in what seems like several months. Not a roast, for once, but some lamb steaks we picked up in Edinburgh earlier this week. September was a very busy month. Lots of travelling. Some very fun stuff, but I'm ready for a break.

And ready for another Bok. One of my all-time favourites:

SNAB Ijsbok, 9% ABV
This is a properly dark one, verging on black. It smells of metal, malt and something else starting with the letter "M" I can't quite put my finger. It's rich and warming in the mouth, with as much liquorice as a packet of Basset's. Very nice. Perfect to set me up for cooking dinner.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"Not really."

"Go on."

"It's probably really horrible. Let Andrew try it."

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

"OK."

"What do you think."

"It's a bit watery, Dad."

"It's 9% ABV."

"I still find the flavour watery."

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1933 Lorimer & Clark SA

I did contemplate going through the whole set of Pale Ales. But, as they’re just different-strength versions of the same basic beer, I thought that might be a little dull.

Instead I’ve plucked out SA, the beer that isn’t like the others. Which, I’ll admit, was quite a surprise. I’d expected SA to be like the Strong Ales produced at other breweries like Drybrough or Maclay. Just a super-strong version of their Pale Ale recipe. But that’s not the case. It’s not parti-gyled with a Pale Ale and the recipe is quite different.

For a start there’s no flaked maize. And there’s less sugar and one extra ingredient: caramel. Also it was boiled for much longer, 3 hours rather than 1.5 and 2 hours. But the biggest difference is the hopping. It’s so out of whack with their other beers that I just cross-checked the numbers to make sure I hadn’t made a mistake. It really is hopped at three times the rate of their Pale Ales: 14.88 lbs per quarter compared to 4.88 lbs.

Which leaves this beer looking very 19th century. The combination of high gravity and heavy hopping is reminiscent of William Younger’s 140/- and 160/- from the end of the 1800’s. Other Scottish Strong Ales of the 1930’s look very different. Their hopping is much more restrained. A quick look at this table shows how much of an Outlier Lorimer & Clark’s SA was:

Scottish Strong Ales of the 1930's
Year	Brewer	Beer	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	lbs hops/ qtr	hops lb/brl
1933	Drybrough	Burns	1084.0	1027.0	7.54	67.86%	6.29	2.51
1933	Wm. Younger	1	1085.0	1033.0	6.88	61.18%	5.26	1.79
1938	Maclay	SA	1075	1028	6.22	62.67%	5.00	1.65
1932	Lorimer & Clark	SA	1096	1025	9.39	73.96%	14.88	6.45
Sources:
Drybrough brewing record held at the Scottish Brewing Archive, document number D/6/1/1/4.
William Younger brewing record held at the Scottish Brewing Archive, document number WY/6/1/2/70.
Maclay brewing record held at the Scottish Brewing Archive, document number M/6/1/1/3.

As to what SA might mean, I won’t commit myself without seeing some labels. Based on other breweries, such as William Younger, it might have been called Strong Ale north of the border and Scotch Ale south of it.

1933 Lorimer & Clark SA
pale malt	18.75 lb	88.24%
malt extract	1.50 lb	7.06%
caramel	0.25 lb	1.18%
No. 2 invert sugar	0.75 lb	3.53%
Fuggles 90 min	5.00 oz
Fuggles 60 min	4.00 oz
Goldings 30 min	4.00 oz
OG	1096
FG	1025
ABV	9.39
Apparent attenuation	73.96%
IBU	123
SRM	55
Mash at	154º F
Sparge at	165º F
Boil time	180 minutes
pitching temp	59.5º F
Yeast	WLP028 Edinburgh Ale

Random Dutch beers (part forty-three)

"Can I have twenty euros, dad?"

Andrew's quick this morning. I hadn't even cracked open a beer and he's already asking for money. At least he was up before noon. That's a novelty nowadays.

More Boks, starting with an old favourite:

Brand Dubbel Bock, 7.5% ABV
It's paler than I recall, a pale red-brown. Looks quite pretty in the glass, though. It has a sweet, caramelly-malt aroma, like walking past a toffee shop. Sweet malt is dominant in the mouth, too, with just a hint of bitterness. Pretty old school and pretty nice, The way most Dutch Bok used to taste.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

"No." He replies unenthusiastically.

It's been a productive weekend so far. (The first I've spent at home for a month. Luckily, I've no travel planned for the next few weeks. I can really do with a rest.) I scanned the set of 300 DDR labels I recently bought. Just the set of 450 to go. Got a couple of blog posts written, too.

Next, another Bok from an established brewery, Jopen.

Jopen Johanniter Weizen Duppelbok, 9% ABV
Seem to be a lot of strong Boks this year. Smells of raisins and booze, like a rich christmas cake. Plus a bit of bubblegum. I guess that's the wheat bit. Tastes like smoked toffe in the mouth. Not much wheat-like flavour here. Bit thin, if anything, for the strength. Not as good as Aventinus - but what is? A decent enough beer.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

No reply.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

No reply.

Not surprising, really, as he's gone upstairs with a brace of sausage rolls. No need to hang around downstairs now he's got his dosh. He's dead bad value for money, really.

London Goose day two (part two)

Miles Jenner keeps the beers coming as we drink our way through the cask ales.

I notice that every time he gets a round from the bar, he gets a little glass of the beer first.

“I’m just making sure it’s in the condition I’d like it to be.”

The beers all look and taste amazing. I’m most impressed by the gravity-served Sussex Best. It forms a wonderfully creamy head. It’s obviously in wonderful condition. Reminding me of some beers I served at the GBBF years ago. M & B Springfield of Matthew Brown Mild and Bitter. They had similar levels of condition. Not sure how many beers do any more.

Miles Jenner explains why the beer is so well conditioned:

“We used to send it out straight after racking. After we realised pubs were selling it too soon we started keeping it in a warehouse for a week.”

There are many breweries that could do well to follow the lead of Harvey’s.

After a couple of pints we head upstairs for a bite to eat. Just for variety, I have fish and chips. It’s rather nice, with Sussex Best batter. The talk, unsurprisingly, is mostly about beer and hops and very entertaining.

Once we’ve drunk our coffee we head back over the road to the brewery. This is so exciting. It’s somewhere I’ve always dreamt of visiting. Let’s hope it isn’t a disappointment.

I’m surprised to learn that the current building wasn’t all constructed at once, the tower being added later. You’d never know from looking at it. The join is seamless.

We start at the top of the brewery, as usual. Where they have, as is logical, the malt and hop store. Plus a couple of little steam engines. They’re still in working order, but aren’t connected up to any belts or anything. They run them once a year.

Seeing the malt piled up in sacks isn’t a surprise. It’s how everyone stores their malt. The hop store would have been a shock, if Mike hadn’t forewarned me. I’ve been telling people for years that Victorian brewers knew how to preserve hops and kept them in cold stores. Harvey’s have them at room temperature. Though, to be fair, they did say that bulk storage was offsite in a temperature-controlled space.

Did I mention all their hops come from Sussex? And they’re still in pockets. In a way, getting ingredients locally is both very traditional and very modern. Is that ironic or weirdly logical?

On the way out of the stores we see the blocks of No. 3 invert sugar and sacks of flaked maize. A sure sign they brew the old-fashioned way here.

Moving on, we admire the pair of coppers. One is grandly copper, the other more discrete stainless steel. But they’re functionally the same. And therein lies the key to Harvey’s. It isn’t a museum. As equipment wears out, it’s replaced. With something that performs the same function. The material might have changed, but the way it operates is unchanged.

It’s the same story with the mash tuns: one copper, one stainless. There are rakes at the bottom, but purely to aid cleaning out the spent grains.

I’m pleased to see a very specialist piece of equipment that you don’t see much anymore. It’s a sugar dissolver. Not glamourous, I know, but this sort of shit excites me.

You can’t imagine how excited I got in the fermentation room. But I’m saving that for next time.





Disclaimer: my trip was paid for by Goose Island as part of my consultancy fee.

Random Dutch beers (part forty-two)

Blow me if it isn't Bokbier season again. Time to try some of this year's examples.

Though I won't be trying to sample them all as I did a couple of times. Back in the days when I was younger, more enthusiastic and there weren't so many damn breweries in Holland. I'd be here until January trying to get through them all.

First one from an older outfit:

Christoffel Bock, 7.8% ABV (€2.40 for 33 cl from Ton Overmars)
Pretty damn dark. Verging on black. A rather metallic smell. Like cream sprinkled with iron filings. But slightly more appetising. Bittersweet in the mouth. Maybe a bit excessively so. They're having a right set to over my tongue. I think Bitter just has the edge. He's knocked Sweet down and there's a trickle of blood coming from his nose.Quite a pleasant beer, despite the fisticuffs.

"Andrew, do you want to try my beer?"

"No thank you, my stomach doesn't feel too great."

Let's try another one. This time for highly regarded Kees.

Indian Summer Doppelbock, 8.5% ABV (€3.20 for 33 cl from Ton Overmars)
Dark brown, but not as dark as the last beer. You can still see some red highlights. The head has a lovely whipped cream quality, but in colour and texture. The aroma is smoke, hop and metal. like eating bacon from a fork where the plating has worn off. Lots more smoke in the mouth which almost, but not quite, covers the background bitterness. Not sure what's being attempted here. Maybe something along the lines of Schlenkerla. A bit of a battle going on between the different elemnts. Maybe it will mellow with age.

"Andrew, do you want to try my beer?"

"OK," he says very hesitantly."

He looks dubiously at the glass and takes a sip.

"It's drinkable, but I wouldn't drink it."

Not exactly a ringing endorsement.

Let's Brew - 1932 Lorimer & Clark XXP 7

I had a great piece of luck earlier this week at the Caledonian Brewery in Edinburgh. I stumbled on a brewing book.

I wasn’t going to pass up a chance like that and quickly snapped some snaps. This is a recipe from the very first photograph. It’s an interwar Lorimer & Clark Pale Ale, with the snappy name of XXP 7. I think I understand that. XXP means Pale Ale – William Younger used the name, too – and 7 is just the price, 7d per pint. They loved naming beers after their price, the Scots.

It’s another very straightforward beer: pale malt, invert sugar, flaked maize and malt extract. The type of draught Bitter that was brewed both sides of the border. An English beer would probably have had more sugar instead of the malt extract, but otherwise be very similar. At least in terms of grist. The hopping rate is lower than in England.

Let’s make a quick comparison with Whitbread’s beers of the same era. For reference purposes, XXP & was hopped at 4.81 lbs per quarter, 0.75 lbs per barrel.

Whitbread Ales in 1932
Beer	Style	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	lbs hops/ qtr	hops lb/brl
LA	Mild	1026.0	1006.5	2.58	75.00%	8.50	0.93
X	Mild	1032.6	1009.0	3.12	72.39%	8.26	1.11
IPA	IPA	1035.2	1009.0	3.47	74.43%	11.00	1.64
XX	Mild	1039.0	1012.5	3.51	67.95%	8.26	1.33
XXX	Strong Ale	1045.2	1015.5	3.93	65.71%	7.49	1.45
PA	Pale Ale	1046.1	1013.0	4.38	71.80%	8.00	1.58
Ex PA	Pale Ale	1046.4	1016.0	4.02	65.52%	8.00	1.59
DB	Brown Ale	1057.8	1014.0	5.79	75.78%	9.96	2.23
Source:
Whitbread brewing book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/01/098.

You can see that XXP 7 was less heavily hopped than even LA, Whitbread’s low-gravity Mild. And at only half the rate of IPA, a beer of about the same strength. It’s pretty clear that XXP 7 was much less bitter than an equivalent English beer. Meaning it probably drank more like a Light Mild than a Bitter.

Nothing else I can really say. A simple, light, mild Bitter.

 

1932 Lorimer & Clark XXP 7
pale malt	6.00 lb	75.00%
flaked barley	1.00 lb	12.50%
malt extract	0.50 lb	6.25%
No. 2 invert sugar	0.50 lb	6.25%
Fuggles 90 min	0.50 oz
Fuggles 60 min	0.50 oz
Goldings 30 min	0.50 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.50 oz
OG	1037
FG	1010
ABV	3.57
Apparent attenuation	72.97%
IBU	22
SRM	5
Mash at	154º F
Sparge at	160º F
Boil time	90 minutes
pitching temp	61º F
Yeast	WLP028 Edinburgh Ale

London Goose day two

I meet Mike at 9 am in the breakfast room. Not going to miss out on my morning ration of fried things.

We’ve a busy day, made busier because Mike forgot to hang on to a couple of bottles of Brewery Yard. He needs some as presents for later.

“Never turn up at a brewery empty handed.” He says wisely.

It means we have to rush off to East London to the site of tomorrow’s Goose Island Block Party. They’ve plenty of bottles there. The traffic is pretty bad. Not really much point saying that. Central London, during the day. Of course the traffic’s bad.

A couple of bottles of Brewery Yard in our hands, we pile into another cab to head over to Victoria Station, as that’s where the train to Lewes starts. It looks like it’ll take a while to get there as we’ll need to cross all of central London. The taxi driver tells us the traffic drives him nuts. Which is why we’ll be his last fare today. Odd occupation to choose, London cabbie, if the capital’s traffic is too much for you.

We decide to go to London Bridge Station instead and change further south to the Lewes train.

It’s a while since I’d been to London Bridge. Totally unrecognisable from what I remember. The station has been totally rebuilt. Not a bad thing, as it was pretty crap. Though they have placed the new ticket office in weirdly inconvenient spot miles from the entrance.

There’s quite a scrum when the train comes in, but I use the seat-grabbing skills I’ve learned from Dolores to get us three together. We haven’t even broken free from London’s embrace when Ken starts whacking out z’s. I can’t really blame him. He only flew in from the US yesterday.

I’m worried that we may be a little late when we roll into Lewes. I think I mentioned we’d turn up about midday. We rush through town but have to pause for breath when we reach the river. And get the first glimpse of Harvey’s. The perfect little red-brick tower brewery perched just above the river. It’s hard to imagine a more lovely scene.

I nip into the brewery shop and tell them I’ve an appointment with Mr. Jenner.

“Is that to do with beer history?” the man behind the counter asks.

“Yes.”

“They’re already in the John Harvey Tavern. Do you know where it is?”

“No.”

“I’ll take you over there.”

It’s just over the road and down a riverside alleyway. Miles Jenner is inside with one of Harvey’s other brewers and his hop grower. They already have pints in their hands. As we soon do, too. Mr. Jenner gets us the same as they’re drinking, Harvey’s wet hop beer. It’s absolutely stunning, bursting with juicy hop flavour, but crazily drinkable. It’s a good start.





John Harvey Tavern
Bear Yard,
Cliffe High St,
Lewes BN7 2AN.
http://www.johnharveytavern.co.uk/



Disclaimer: my trip was paid for by Goose Island as part of my consultancy fee.

Update

I've had a very bust few weeks. A few days in Chicago and three trips to the UK. Understanably, it's left me even more confused than usual.

But I've got some new brewing records. I'd expected to harvest Shepherd Neame's. Finding a brewing book just lying around at Caledonian on Monday was just good fortune. And I wasn't going to pass up the chance. Especially as it's a Scottish brewery. The records span 1932 to 1939. You can probably guess what they contain: several Pale Ales of different strengths parti-gyled together.

Speaking of Scotland, I'm starting to seriously prepare my Macbeth tour of the USA. At least the first leg of it in April. Which is provisionally set to be New Holland, Kalamazoo, Minneapolis, St. Louis, Indianapolis, Chicago.

It's all connected to Scotland! volume II, which is mostly recipes.The concept it that I'll send a themed set of Scottish recipes to a home brew club. Their members brew up the recipes then I troll up talk about Scottish beer in general and the recipes made in particular. Then I get to drink the beer. Sounds great, doesn't it? As a bonus, anyone who brews a recipe I'll give 50 - 100 words to describe it in the final version of the book.

Commercial brewers are welcome to participate, too.

I'm open to suggestions from other parts of the US and from Europe, too. Just get in touch via the gadget at the top left of this page.

1949 William Younger XXX

The beers from just after the war bring so much joy. Of the I’m-really-happy-I-didn’t-live-back-then kind.

Younger, contrary bastards that they were, still brewed Mild after WW II. Unlike most Scottish brewers. Look back and you’ll find an XXX recipe from 1939. When the gravity was a good bit higher, at 1037º. But don’t blame Younger for this version being weaker. Blame Hitler.

This may look puny, but there were weaker ones. This is just about intoxicating. And doesn’t have too much crap in it. No grits, while in 1939 they were 15% of the grist. Though, to be honest, the ingredients they used probably weren’t under the brewer’s full control.

This being a Scottish beer, you can colour to choice. A fun experiment would be to colour this beer a couple of different shades at racking time. Then get people to try them all without saying it’s basically the same beer. I’m sure it would catch me out.

1949 William Younger XXX
pale malt	5.25 lb	72.41%
crystal malt	0.50 lb	6.90%
mild malt	0.50 lb	6.90%
flaked barley	0.50 lb	6.90%
No. 2 invert sugar	0.50 lb	6.90%
Fuggles 90 min	0.25 oz
Fuggles 60 min	0.25 oz
Fuggles 30 min	0.25 oz
OG	1030.5
FG	1008
ABV	2.98
Apparent attenuation	73.77%
IBU	11
SRM	7
Mash at	153º F
Sparge at	160º F
Boil time	75 minutes
pitching temp	62º F
Yeast	WLP028 Edinburgh Ale

London Goose day one

I’ve only been back a week from Chicago and it’s time to travel again for a Goose Island event. This time only as far as London.

My flight is only at 11 am so I’m not in a huge rush. I even have a bit of a lie in compared to a normal weekday. I’m allowing plenty of time. When I flew to Chicago it took me 40 minutes to get through security.

No delay at security this time. I waltz virtually straight through. Just as well as this time I spend 40 minutes dropping off a checked in bag. Bit of a bummer, that. Some of the machines seem to be malfunctioning.

As my flight is leaving from D pier, I feel obliged to nip in the Irish pub. It’s a tradition when I’m down this end of the airport. I recognise all the staff now. The nice Scottish lady gets me my half of Stout and double Jamesons after I squeeze up to the bar. It’s always busy here, no matter what time of the day.

I got myself a sarnie in the Albert Heijn landside. Just in case. You never know what they’re going to serve you on short flights. It’s as well I did. The food served was a miniature packet of nachos. I ate them after wolfing down my egg and bacon job.

The flight is packed, but uneventful and we arrive on time. I’ve been doing well with my bags. Third on the carousel coming back from Chicago, fourth this time. In no time I’m on a DLR train crawling through the former docklands. I only take it as far as West Ham, where I can get on a proper tube train. In 40 minutes I’m at my hotel on the Strand.

I’d like to drop my bags and freshen up. But my room isn’t ready yet. I’ve still a little time before I’m due to meet Mike Siegel of Goose Island. So I dump my bags and do what I always do with spare time in London: spend it in a pub. Luckily, I noticed a suitable Nicholson’s house, The Wellington, on my walk from the tube.

I quickly rush back there. There’s a gaggle of forty-something women at the bar and one younger bloke. I assume it’s an office crowd. They’re humming and hawing about what to order and I’m able to nip and order my pint. Not much doubt about what I’d get when I spotted Harvey’s Sussex Best.

The group at the bar have in fact travelled up to London to see a show. Two of the women start discussing bra sizes and the younger bloke reaches round from behind one of them and grabs hold of her right breast.

“That’s a nice handful.” He says.

“How can you get away with that?” one of the other women says to him.

He then starts smacking another woman on her bottom. Quite hard, in fact. They must all be good friends because no-one seems to mind. Or even pay much attention. When the young chap gets out his old chap I look away. Don’t want to be put off my pint. They go outside to smoke and the excitement disappears with them.

Only time for the one, sadly. Have to meet Mike in the hotel lobby. Me, him and Ken, Goose Island’s media guy, walk the short distance to Joe Allen Restaurant, our lunch destination.

AB-Inbev’s local PR people are already at the table. It’s a sort of working lunch. Not for me, obviously. I left work in Amsterdam. I’m just along for the ride. And the steak, which is rather good. And there’s Goose Island IPA on tap, which thankfully is brought to the table in pitchers. Otherwise the largest measure is a half pint.

Once repasted, we get a bit of a thirst on. I’ve already planned our next step with Mike.

You may find this hard to believe, but I’ve never been to The Harp in Covent Garden. One of London’s most famous beer pubs. Not sure how that happened. Probably because I haven’t been down this part of London much in the last 20 years.

John Hall, Goose Island’s founder, is already here. I met him briefly at my talk in Chicago. Seems a nice bloke.

The remainder of the afternoon slips by in pints of Sussex Best. Yes, they’ve got it here as well. And even though I’m going to the brewery tomorrow, I can’t resist a few more pints. It’s such a lovely beer. And a real taste of the past. In the early 1970’s, this is how most Southern Bitters tasted.

I finally get to check into my room in the late afternoon. But can’t dally long. I’ve just about time to log into the wifi network and quickly check my mail before it’s time to jump in a taxi to head to this evening’s event. Which is me bullshitting about Stock Pale Ale. While hopefully getting to drink quite a bit of it.

The event is in the Rake. I was quite surprised when it was mentioned as a venue. Only been there once before and what most struck me was its small size. I’ll be talking in the slightly larger garden at the back. Which fortunately is covered by an awning, in case the weather turns nasty.

First things first. I check that my presentation is properly loaded and that the laptop is so placed that I can look at its screen and the audience at the same time. Once that’s done, I get stuck into some beer. Just to make sure my throat doesn’t try out before talking, obviously.

Before too many punters show up, some promo photos are taken of me and Mike proudly holding bottles of Brewery Yard. It’s like standing next to one of my kids. I look like a midget.

There are a fair few – actually possibly a majority – of the audience that I know. Not surprising seeing as I was involved in drawing up the guest list. Plenty of people to chat with. And whose opinion on the Brewery Yard I’m interested in hearing.

When I spot Roger Protz I realise that I’ve forgotten to bring the bottle of Ij IPA he asked for. Not from Holland, I must add. I just forgot to bring it from my hotel. I promise to leave it there for him to pick up.

The talk goes even better than in Chicago. Practice helps. I get a few laughs and some heartening applause. Time does weird things when I’m up in front of an audience. It always only seems like I’m talking for five minutes. Even when it’s several hours.

I’m pleased to learn that the beer is going down well. The responses are very positive. Which sort of makes the two years the project lasted worthwhile.

Once the crowd has gone we pop around the corner to Black & Blue for a meal. I have another steak.

Back at the hotel a couple of us linger in the Gin Palace bar for a nightcap. A warming Glenmorangie. Just as well, as Mr. Laphroaig hasn’t accompanied me this trip.



The Wellington
351 Strand,
London WC2R 0HS.
Tel: +44 20 7836 2789
nicholsonspubs.co.uk
http://www.nicholsonspubs.co.uk/restaurants/london/thewellingtonstrandlondon


Joe Allen Restaurant
13 Exeter St,
London WC2E 7DT.
Tel: +44 20 7836 0651
http://www.joeallen.co.uk/


The Harp
47 Chandos Pl,
London WC2N 4HS.
Tel: +44 20 7836 0291
http://www.harpcoventgarden.com/


The Rake
14 Winchester Walk,
Borough Market SE1 9AG.
Tel: +44 20 7407 0557
http://www.utobeer.co.uk/

Black & Blue
1-2 Rochester Walk,
London SE1 9AF.
Tel: +44 20 7357 9922
http://www.blackandbluerestaurants.com/



Disclaimer: my trip was paid for by Goose Island as part of my consultancy fee.

Chicago day five

My last day in Chicago starts as all the others: with me stuffing bacon and eggs into my face in the hotel restaurant. Or gastropub, as it likes to bill itself.

I spend the last couple of hours before checkout watching crap TV, fiddling on my laptop and sipping Laphroaig. All the things one typically does when alone in a hotel room. At least that’s what I do.

One problem with such a short trip. Not really time to get through a full litre of Laphroaig. Leaving me with a dilemma: knock it back now or sling it? Neither seems very satisfactory. Then I have a brainwave.

I nip downstairs to the shop and buy a half litre of diet cola. I drink half and replace with whisky. Voila – a drink I can take to the airport with me. It makes me feel much happier knowing no Laphroaig will be wasted today.

I leave my bags in the hotel after checking out a go for a little sightseeing. Being a big fan of early skyscrapers, I really can’t pass up this chance to get a look at some of the earliest. Michigan Avenue, where some of the finest stand, is only a couple of blocks away.

I wander amongst the improbable gothic towers for a while snapping some snaps while looking up in awe. My word well is pretty dry. You’ll have to make do with just the pictures.

I can’t be arsed to travel very far. But I do need some farewell pints and some scran. I head to Rock Bottom. Not the most exciting or cutting edge of places. But I couldn’t give a toss about that. Trailing edge will do me fine. All I need is some decent beer and food to soak it up.

Running down the clock on my trip. It’s been a load of fun. Finally got to see downtown Chicago. Some old skyscrapers and a sort of Manhattan vibe, without the totally crazy chaos.

Got myself a

Rock Bottom Terminal Stout, 6.5% ABV, OG 18.2º, IBU 50
As black as Darth Vader’s heart grilled to charcoal, tan head. Looks the part. Very roasty. Like sucking on Darth Vader’s charcoaled heart. Quite nice, though.

Been no time to take notes until now. Too busy. The gig went pretty well. And I shifted some books. There’s nothing like getting a whole room to laugh out loud. I felt knacked before going on, but the applause and laughter soon got the adrenalin flowing.

I think I’m genuinely good at this public speaking lark. At first, I used to have a script in my hand as  I spoke. As a reassurance, I guess, as I never looked at it.

Hope  I get through Dutch customs OK. I’ve three bottles of bourbon. You already know the story of how that happened. Andrew is a very lucky young man.

Mike’s been my tour guide, taking me around pubs and breweries. It’s odd – and a little scary – how many people know who I am Quite sweet how some think I make a living out of this malarkey. Maybe I should. But I might have to live in the US.

I could imagine living over here again for a couple of years. Never thought I’d say that. Don’t know where, though. Much as I like Chicago and Boston, the weather would drive me nuts. Maybe Portland or Seattle. I can cope with rain. Just not extreme heat and cold.

Did I mention that I really like Chicago? I really like Chicago. Though the constant sirens and cop coptors overhead can be a little unnerving.

Rock Bottom Hop Bomb IPA, 6.8% ABV, OG 15º, IBU 70
I ordered this despite it containing Mosaic (as well as Chinook). Bit murky looking and a slightly scummy head. Smells like the wet Chinooks the other day. Has that Izal Mosaic thing, though not too overpoweringly.

Only $10 for my very good burger and chips. You’re looking at around double that in Amsterdam

I pick my bags up at the hotel and jump in a cab. As we weave through Chicago, I take the occasional swig of my special coke.

“Nice smell,” my driver says “is that bourbon?”

“Scotch.”

He nods approvingly. Pretty sure what I’m doing is illegal. But the driver doesn’t seem to mind.

I finish off my special drink in the queue for security. Which happily isn’t too long. For some reason I’m not in such urgent need of an airside bar. So I don’t bother. Instead I buy some dim sum for the flight. I like to make sure I get something decent in me on the way back over the Atlantic. You never know what an airline is going to serve you.

I get my head down straight after the last drinks round. I soon nod off, even without the help of Mr. Laphroaig. I need some kip. Four hours after landing I’m being driven to Margate. What an exciting life I lead.



Rock Bottom Restaurant & Brewery
1 W Grand Ave,
Chicago, IL 60610.
http://rockbottom.com


Disclaimer: my trip was paid for by Goose Island as part of my consultancy fee.

Shiny new DDR labels

From the 750 that arrived this week.

It's a sickness, I realise that. I just can't resist DDR labels. A bit like crack - once you've tried it there's no going back.

There are some real crackers in the 300 that came today. Some old, some I'd never seen before, let alone own. I'm dead excited. Despite the work it's going to cause me.

Though it saves me writing lots of words today.

Here's a random sample:

1947 Shepherd Neame BA

I hope you’re enjoying gambolling through pasture of 1940’s brewing. Doesn’t it make you glad to be alive? In a different decade, obviously. The 1940’s sound pretty grim. Especially the post-war years.

You’ll be pleased to hear that we’re leaving watery beers aside for a . . . slightly less watery beer. One with all the punch of an Ordinary Bitter. Let’s face, this is pretty much the same beer as BB. Just a little bit stronger. It’s a weird world, the late 1940’s. Where a brewery might have four or five beers under 1033º.

I’m going to struggle to draw this out over 100 words. Er, pretty boring grist: pale malt, the obligatory flaked barley and a touch of malt extract. Again, around half of the hops look as if they’ve come from Shepherd Neame’s own hop garden.

Just a slightly stronger version of the BB. That’s it really. Just about done with Shep’s 1947 beer range. Just one to go: LDA. Guess what that is. Go on. Not got it? A waterier version of BA. Hard to believe that a beer of 1034º could be a brewery’s strongest. But it’s true. BA was the strongest beer Shep’s brewed in 1947. Happy days? I don’t think so.

1947 Shepherd Neame BA
pale malt	6.50 lb	80.55%
flaked barley	1.50 lb	18.59%
malt extract	0.07 lb	0.87%
Fuggles 120 mins	0.75 oz
Goldings 30 mins	0.75 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.25 oz
OG	1034.3
FG	1006.1
ABV	3.73
Apparent attenuation	82.22%
IBU	22
SRM	3
Mash at	151º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	120 minutes
pitching temp	63º F
Yeast	a Southern English Ale yeast