1914 Drybrough PI

For a change of pace. And I because I queued up one post short to cover all my travels.

On the outbreak of war, Drybrough brewed three Pale Ales, in ascending order of strength: IP 48/-, IP and IP 60/-.

With a fairly modest gravity in the mid-1040’s, Drybrough’s PI was the equivalent of an English AK. Though it wasn’t as heavily hopped, as was becoming the case with all Scottish Pale Ales. Fullers AK, for example, also had an OG of 1044 in 1914. That had 1.36 lbs of hops per barrel while Drybrough PI had only 0.91 lbs. That’s a significant difference.

The grist is much like an English Pale Ale of the period: pale malt, flaked maize and sugar. The flaked rice is unusual, however. It does turn up occasionally in beers, mostly just after the 1880 Free mash Tun Act. Barclay Perkins, for example, used it for a while before switching to maize. I assume price was the reason for preferring maize.

The sugar in the original really was No. 1 and No. 2. Though there was also a very small amount of something described as “Dxt”. It’s probably dextrose, but the quantity is so small – 28 lbs spread over 132 barrels – that it’s not really worth worrying about.

 

1914 Drybrough PI
pale malt	8.25 lb	82.50%
flaked maize	0.50 lb	5.00%
flaked rice	0.50 lb	5.00%
no. 1 sugar	0.25 lb	2.50%
no. 2 sugar	0.50 lb	5.00%
Fuggles 120 min	0.50 oz
Goldings 60 min	0.50 oz
Goldings 30 min	0.50 oz
Goldings dry hop	0.50 oz
OG	1044
FG	1015
ABV	3.84
Apparent attenuation	65.91%
IBU	20
SRM	6
Mash at	149º F
Sparge at	175º F
Boil time	120 minutes
pitching temp	60º F
Yeast	WLP028 Edinburgh Ale

 

 

Running Bass Charrington (part two)

More in the inimitable management style of H Alan Walker (HAW). When Bass M & B merged with Charrington United Breweries in 1967, Walker became its managing director and chairman, roles he had held at Bass M & B. The two halves of the new company had very different management approaches.

It led to a clash of cultures, in which authoritarianism easily triumphed under the leadership of HAW; all at M&B, and later BM&B [Bass M & B], including his fellow directors, had become used to his absolute authority and commanding style and offered no opposition. HAW once said "The smaller the brewery, the bigger the prima donna", in reference to the human problems arising when taking over companies. It was a comment too upon himself, as to his perception of those problems; his strength was also his weakness.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 103.

Walker sounds like a crazed narcissist in this next section.

Those present at the meeting were familiar with his views on the qualities of leadership, the principles of organisation, the ability to make and take the right decisions, and so on, as from time to time HAW put his thoughts into print and circulated them to senior employees as advised reading, and to others as recommended study; not bound up in little red covers, of course, but handed out on single sheets (see Appendix C). He referred to these and then began in earnest.

He outlined the essentials of his master plan - only two breweries, a London depot, overnight shuttle trains, the new brewery itself. He spoke of the benefits to be derived from his plan, in the manner of one conferring a privilege. He dismissed the fears of those about to lose their own regional beers, as having the petty-mindedness of provincials, men of limited faith and small vision.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, pages 107 - 108.

All sounds pretty reasonable, doesn't it?

The Runcorn project was already becoming a graven image. He went on about the advantages of huge production in new breweries, the advance of technology, the necessity for all present to get out into the market place and sell the beers. He announced the formation of a committee, made up of the company enthusiasts for his ideas, to be called the 1984 Committee, which would attempt to predict the manufacturing position of BC at that date, and in the meantime would organise to attain the decided goals. He wound up by saying there had been enough discussion within BC on the plan and the bellyaching had got to stop, as it would go ahead. He took a dim view of any more objection. He then asked if anybody had anything to say. They had not; the front row of his fellow directors was as silent as the grave whilst the rest of us were trying to memorise and digest what had been said. No note-taking had been allowed. Discretion kept us quiet; burgeoning anxieties were making us thoughtful.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 108.

"1984 Committee"? How creepy can you get? Was that deliberate or just ignorant? I suspect the latter. I mean, he doesn't sound like the sort of man you'd point out an error to. An error of his own, I mean.

Running Bass Charrington

Today I'm going to publish some excerpts from Anthony Avis's wonderful memoir: "The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990"

They all concern H Alan Walker (HAW), the first chairman of Bass Charrington. And someone with a rather creepily dictatorial management style. The scheme in question here is the new brewery in Runcorn.

In the run up to the introduction of this scheme. HAW had called a three line whip type of meeting at his London headquarters for all senior executives, to give his explanation of the grand scheme, and to reiterate his threat to sack personally anyone who queried it. The MD of BCN, Vernon Parker, could not attend, as he was ill, so I went in his place. I am not certain to this day if he was really ill or chose not to go, as he was in disfavour, quite unfairly, for raising profits but not volume barrelage, just when the flavour of the month with HAW was barrelage. Those who had been called assembled on the first floor of the Grosvenor Gardens house, sitting in rows, awaiting the arrival of the Great Man, like nervous schoolchildren. His habit was to make dramatic, stage effect, entries to this sort of meeting. His headquarters staff of young men having suitably corralled those attending, and warmed them up, television audience style, then stood around the edges of the room like ushers or warders. Those of the main board working directors involved in the brewery operations were also there, in the front seats, waiting - no question of them entering with the Great Man in a show of unity. Silence having descended on the meeting, there was a signal from the personal assistant by the staircase, and HAW descended from his second floor rooms, preceded by his butler who saw him seated, and then left. We all waited expectantly and nervously; if the intention had been to create such an atmosphere it had succeeded.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 107.

He sounds like a right twat. Who gets seated by their butler at a business meeting? It's clear that Mr. Walker was showing, through the whole forma=t of the meeting, that no dissent was going to be allowed.

This is really the way to get people to open up and give you their honest opinion.

He began by strictly warning all present that nothing was to be spoken outside as to what was said inside the meeting, and with that he glared round the room. This gesture could be unnerving, as he had an aggressive manner, his rubicund face topped with scanty white hair, projecting itself like a dart at the listener; to meet his gaze was to be reminded of the fate of those who looked into the eyes of Medusa. He had protruding eyes. He rarely laughed, but occasionally smiled thinly; his voice had a guttural quality. Conviviality was not what he set out to achieve when dealing with management, staff and employees.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 107.

Sounds like a terrible boss to work for. Unless you were a total sycophant. In which case, it would have been great.

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1899 Barclay Perkins SDP export

At first glance this looks pretty similar to RDP. But there are some significant differences.

Big news at the malt mill is that the crystal malt is missing. There’s also more brown malt, but less amber and black. While the sugar is No. 2 invert rather than No. 3. Which seems a slightly odd substitution. All these changes, leave it a good bit paler than RDP.

There’s one sure sign this was a genuine export beer: the hopping rate. At over 19 lbs per quarter (336 lbs) of malt, the hopping is close to that of an export IPA. It’s more than double the hopping rate of RDP.

The hops themselves were all East Kent, from the 1898 and 1899 harvests. Just like all their other beers.

As a genuine export beer, this would have been aged before shipping. Probably at least 12 months. Along with Brettanomyces.

1899 Barclay Perkins SDP export
pale malt	8.00 lb	58.18%
brown malt	1.50 lb	10.91%
black malt	0.75 lb	5.45%
amber malt	1.00 lb	7.27%
No. 2 invert sugar	2.50 lb	18.18%
Goldings 165 mins	3.75 oz
Goldings 60 mins	3.75 oz
Goldings 30 mins	3.75 oz
Goldings dry hops	1.00 oz
OG	1065
FG	1016
ABV	6.48
Apparent attenuation	75.38%
IBU	139
SRM	32
Mash at	145º F
After underlet	154º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	165 minutes
pitching temp	59º F
Yeast	Wyeast 1099 Whitbread Ale

 

 

Courage

I have very mixed feelings about Courage. Having ended up owning both of the brewers in my hometown of Newark, they owned almost all the pubs. All but one of which sold no cask beer. On the other hand, they brewed Russian Stout.

On the other hand, my first job after school was working in their Newark plant, the former Holes brewery. Filling kegs. It was so much fun. Not really. It was very heavy work. Which my 18-year-old body could cope with. Then there was all that free beer.

In the North and Midlands, Courage produced no cask beer at either their Tadcaster or Newark breweries. Drinkers in the South were luckier, with the London and Bristol plants producing some cask. Though Worton Grange, the replacement for the former Simmonds brewery in Reading, produced only keg beer.

London
Horselydown, the original Courage brewery on the South bank of the Thames opposite the Tower of London, was open all through the 1970s, not closing until 1982.

It produced at least some cask right up until its closure. Though it wasn’t always easy to tell which of their breweries the beer had been brewed in.

Reading
The former Simonds brewery in Reading was one of the constituent parts of the original group, Courage Barclay Simonds.

Having a good reputation for their beer, there was quite a bit of consumer resistance to its closure, orchestrated by CAMRA. Of course, this had no effect and the brewery closed in 1979 anyway.

Worton Grange
Opened in 1980 as the replacement for Reading, it was a massive brewery, with a capacity of six million barrels. Designed as a keg beer plant, it never brewed any cask beer. It was never greatly loved and closed in 2010.

It was one of the megakeggeries built in the 1970s when brewers assumed that beer consumption would continue to rise and that extra capacity would be needed. When consumption started to fall in the 1980s, the industry was left with considerable overcapacity.

Bristol
The former George’s plant in Bristol had a long history and a good reputation. After the closure of Reading, it became home of Courage Bitter and Directors.

It was founded in 1781 and had grown to a decent size. When Courage bought it in 1961 it had almost 1,000 tied houses, which would have made it one of the largest independent brewers. It finally closed in 1999.

I’m pretty sure that I drank both Courage Bitter and Directors which had been brewed in Bristol. Perfectly serviceable beers, if not particularly exciting by that date.

Newark
The former Holes plant has a special place in my memories, being the only brewery I’ve ever been employed in.

Bought by Courage in 1967, it continued in much the same way as before. Except that, as the other Newark brewery (Warwick & Richardson) had also ended up in the hands of Courage and been closed, they went from serving half the pubs in Newark to virtually all of them.

It continued to brew the former Holes beers such as AK and Mild. But also brewed one Warwick & Richardson beer, IPA. One thing had changed, however: none of the beer was cask. It was all bright beer, filled into 50 and 100 litre kegs and served by electric diaphragm pump.

The beers weren’t terrible, not being heavily pasteurised. Definitely better than keg beer. But not a patch on decently-kept cask.

Tadcaster
The former John Smiths brewery is the only Courage plant still in operation. In the early 1970s they phased out cask beer. And didn’t brew any again until the early 1980s. Which was frustrating, because, in cask form, their beer was pretty decent.

The Bitter was quite dark, dry and reasonably bitter. Magnet was similar, but stronger. For a while, quite a few Courage pubs in Newark had cask again. And fairly good cask. Then John Smiths Smooth came along and fucked everything up again.

Barnsley
A much-beloved brewery, famous for its Bitter. Which was the first good beer I ever tasted. Having taken over Warwick & Richardson before being gobbled up themselves by John Smith.

A few pubs in Newark still served Barnsley Bitter when I started drinking in the early 1970s. But, as the Barnsley brewery was scheduled for closure, most had swapped over to beer from Newark.

When the brewery closed in 1976, only one pub in Newark, the Wing Tavern, was still selling Barnsley Bitter.

Plymouth
This was one of Courage’s latest acquisitions, happening in December 1970. The brewery soldiered on for a reasonable length of time, not closing until 1983.

I remember coming across their beer at the Great British Beer Festival. They were unusual in using cast iron casks which weighed an absolute ton. Heavy, their Dark Mild, was top class.

Watney Mann

The most hated of breweries amongst the CAMRA faithful. For the simple reason that they had moved aggressively into keg beer. Some of their breweries still produced a little cask, but they were deeply committed to keg.

In the 1890s, they leapfrogged into first place in London after taking part in the first big brewing merger. The result was Watney Combe Reid. A company that was producing over 1 million barrels a year.

They owned several breweries in different regions: Norwich, Webster (Halifax), Wilsons (Manchester), Usher (Cheltenham) and Drybrough (Edinburgh). Some producing cask, others not. Webster’s beers were OK in cask form, but nothing special. Wilsons beers, even though often in cask, I never cared for.

Mortlake
One of the breweries owned by the company when it was still Watney Combe Reid, it was their main brewery in London after the closure of the Stag Brewery in Pimlico in 1959. It was first acquired by Watney in 1889.

At the start of the decade, it produced no cask beer and hadn’t for quite a while. Though, under pressure from CAMRA, they introduced Fined Bitter, a cask beer served from kegs, in the middle of the 1970s.

Whitechapel
The former Manns brewery in the East End of London, it was bought by Watney in 1958 to replace their original Stag Brewery, which was demolished to make way for a commercial development.

Manns had been one of the major Ale breweries in the capital. Their biggest claim to fame was to have developed the first modern Brown Ale at the start of the 20th century. Oh, and their brewery tap, the Blind Beggar, was the scene of a notorious gangland murder in the 1960s. I drank in there a couple of times in the 1970s. Scary, is how I would describe it.

Norwich
Of the three independent breweries located in the town during the 1950s, only one remained in 1970. And that was in the hands of Watney, who had bought all three breweries in 1963. Of Steward & Patteson, Bullard and Morgan, only the last continued to brew.

Having inherited the tied houses of all three breweries, Watney had a near monopoly in Norwich and parts of Norfolk. Villages which once had a pub from each of the three, found themselves with just one. Or maybe even none. As Watney ruthlessly closed rural pubs they didn’t consider viable.

Webster
Despite being owned by Watney, Webster still brewed a range of draught beers typical of West Yorkshire: a fairly light Bitter and a Pale and Dark Mild. The latter two suspiciously of the same gravity. My guess is that it was one beer sometimes coloured up with caramel.

Wilsons
According to John Keeling, who worked in the lab at Wilsons during the 1970s, there was a big split between production methods of the Wilsons and Watneys brands. The former were brewed from malt and sugar and were fermented in open squares, cooled by a water jacket. While the latter contained 40% raw barley along with enzymes to convert it. They were then fermented in conicals.

Usher
Located in Trowbridge in the Southwest of England, Usher was one of the Watney plants which still produced a decent amount of cask beer. In 1977, around 300 of their 688 tied houses stocked cask. Though, typically of the period some of that was served on top pressure.

Drybrough
One of the many breweries which were located in Duddingston, a village on the outskirts of Edinburgh. The brewery started the decade with a mostly fairly dull range of keg-dispensed draught products, all parti-gyled together. Friends who lived in Scotland weren’t great fans of their beers.

It was one of the four Watney breweries which installed continuous fermentation system. And the last one to decommission it.

For a while, they brewed with 60% unmalted barley in the grist. But that was too much even for Watney and it was reduced to “just” 45%.
 

Cask vs Keg Best Bitter in 1976

Another set of cask and keg Bitters. This time, the stronger examples.

This time, there's no difference at all in the average value for money between cask and keg. Though the cask average is distorted by the spectacularly poor value of Watney Fined Bitter. A beer which was 4.5p per pint more expensive than the second dearest, Charles Wells Fargo. A beer which was considerably stronger.

Fined Bitter was a bit of a funny beer. It was the first cask beer bearing the Watney name for quite a while. As they didn't have casks, it was served from a modified keg. Based on the gravity, it looks like a cask version of Watney Special Bitter. I had it a couple of times and wasn't particularly impressed. Though that might have been down to poor cellarmanship. As Watney landlords mostly wouldn't have any experience of looking after cask beer.

A sign that keg and cask prices were levelling out is provided by Draught Bass and Worthington E. I'm pretty sure they were just cask and keg versions of the same beer. And you can see that the price of the two is identical: 25p.

That's all I can think of for now.

Cask Best Bitter in 1976
Brewer	Beer	Price	º gravity per p	OG
Charles Wells	Draught Fargo	28	1.82	1051
Robinson	Best Bitter Ale	24	1.75	1042
Courage	Director's Bitter	27	1.74	1047
Devenish (Redruth)	Cornish Best Bitter	26	1.63	1042.5
Bass	Draught Bass	25	1.60	1040
Watney	Fined Bitter	32.5	1.36	1044.2
	Average	27.1	1.65	1044.5
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 01 August 1976, page 17.

 

Keg Best Bitter in 1976
Brewer	Beer	Price	º gravity per p	OG
Tetley	Imperial	24	1.75	1042
Usher (Edinburgh)	Double Amber	26	1.65	1043
Bass	Worthington E	25	1.60	1040
Charles Wells	Noggin	25	1.60	1040
	Average	25	1.65	1041.3
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 01 August 1976, page 17.

 

Let's Brew - 1899 Barclay Perkins RDP

Another beer from Barclay Perkins’ alphabet soup of brewhouse names. I can make a guess at the first and last letters – “R” usually stands for “Running” and “P” for “Porter” – but I’ve no real clue about the “D”. “Double”, possibly?

Whatever the letters might stand for, this is certainly a Black Beer, whether you choose to call it a Porter or a Stout. The 25% of roasted malts in grist make that pretty clear.

This batch was brewed in the small brewhouse. Though, at 112 barrels, it was still a substantially-sized brew. Still pretty small compared to the 1,300 barrels of X Ale being brewed on the main kit.

It’s a pretty complex grist, with five malts, in total. Oddly, for such a dark beer, the base is white malt, the palest of pale malts. Along with a full set of roast malts: amber, brown and black. And in decent amounts, especially the amber malt. And no adjuncts. Only quite a lot of No. 3 invert. Most of Barclay’s beers, other than Porter and Stout, contained either flaked maize or flaked rice.

All East Kent hops from the 1898 and 1899 seasons. A fair amount of them and quite a long boil leave a decently bitter beer.

No ageing for this. Pretty sure of that.

1899 Barclay Perkins RDP
pale malt	7.50 lb	50.85%
brown malt	1.25 lb	8.47%
black malt	0.75 lb	5.08%
amber malt	1.50 lb	10.17%
crystal malt 60 L	1.25 lb	8.47%
No. 3 invert sugar	2.50 lb	16.95%
Goldings 150 mins	1.75 oz
Goldings 60 mins	1.75 oz
Goldings 30 mins	1.75 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.50 oz
OG	1070
FG	1020
ABV	6.61
Apparent attenuation	71.43%
IBU	63
SRM	37
Mash at	144º F
After underlet	154º F
Sparge at	172º F
Boil time	150 minutes
pitching temp	61º F
Yeast	Wyeast 1099 Whitbread Ale

 

Cask vs Keg Ordinary Bitter in 1976

Just a short numbery post today. One I wrote a couple of weeks ago to cover now, when I'm in Brazil. Having fun, I hope.

Lots of numbers and not much analysis. Just a quick comparison of typical cask and keg Ordinary Bitters.

What you're seeing here is keg beer move into the mainstream. The beers here aren't the first generation of specifically keg beers. Which were mostly Best Bitters. Or, at least, claiming to be. Some of the beers here, such as Tetley, are just a brewery-conditioned version of their cask Bitter.

That might explain why there's so little difference in price between the two. On average, about half a p. Not much at all, really.

Enough burbling on for today. I've important trip preparations to get on with. 

Cask Ordinary Bitter in 1976
Brewer	Beer	Price per pint (p)	º gravity per p	OG
Hardy & Hanson	Best Bitter	20	1.95	1039
Banks	Bitter	22	1.77	1039
Charles Wells	Draught IPA	23	1.57	1036
Tetley	Bitter	23	1.54	1035.5
Wem	Best Bitter	24	1.54	1037
Burtonwood	Best Bitter	23	1.52	1035
Jennings	Best Bitter	23	1.52	1035
Whitbread (Fremlins)	Trophy	25	1.46	1036.5
	Average	22.9	1.61	1036.6
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 01 August 1976, page 17.

Keg Ordinary Bitter in 1976
Brewer	Beer	Price	º gravity per p	OG
Fullers	Bitter	21	1.67	1035
Matthew Brown	Heritage	24	1.63	1039
Border	Bitter	22	1.59	1035
Courage (Reading)	Tavern	24	1.58	1038
Tetley	Drum Bitter	23	1.54	1035.5
St. Austell	Extra	24	1.54	1037
Whitbread (London)	Trophy	24	1.48	1035.5
Alloa	Diamond Heavy	25	1.45	1036.2
	Average	23.4	1.56	1036.4
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 01 August 1976, page 17.

Carlsberg vs the Big Six

It may be hard to believe now, but the Big Six, in their prime during the 1970s, were some of the largest brewing groups in the world. But, while large breweries on the continent, such as Carlsberg and Heineken have continued to grow, the UK's biggest breweries all fell by the wayside.

When Watney Mann were making deals with Carlsberg in the early 1970s, they were by far the larger brewery of the two. At least in terms of the quantity of beer produced.

The figures are from slightly different dates, Carlsberg being for 1969 and Watney and Bass Charrington from 1976. Even Watney, one of the smallest of the Big Six, produced more than double as much as Carlsberg. Which must have had an impact on the relations between the two. I've included Bass Charrington, the largest of the Big Six, for comparison.

So where did it go wrong for the big UK brewers? They didn't expand internationally. Or at least not as much and not as successfully. Obviously, there wasn't quite the incentive for this as there was for brewers like Carlsberg and Heineken, whose home markets were much smaller. 

Carlsberg vs the Big Six
	hl	barrels
Denmark consumption	4,830,000	2,951,256
Total Carlsberg	3,571,000	2,181,974
Carlsberg exports	825,000	504,096
Carlsberg domestic	2,746,000	1,677,877
% Carlsberg domestic	56.85%
Bass	12,831,060	7,840,111
Watney	7,698,636	4,704,067
Source:
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, April 1970, page 75.
“The Brewing Industry, a Guide to Historical Records” by Lesley Hammons & Alison Turton.

A scencic cachacaria

Here's a little prview of my time in Brazil. Part of a day out in the countrside touring distilleries.

Our first stop is Dupipe. We enter via a narrow and at times steep track. We struggle to get up one section. Good job we’re in a four-wheel drive. At the end, several dogs run out barking to greet us. Where the hell in the distillery?

A man of about my age appears. It’s the owner. We’re in a stunning tropical garden where tropical flowers thrust out from between mature trees of all different types. Several fish ponds on different levels punctuate the garden It’s ridiculously idyllic.

The owner thows some food into one of the ponds so ew can see the fish, which a surprisingly large. Then points to a toucan perching in one of the trees.

The distillery is in a shed. Above the door there’s a sign saying that it’s not allowed to enter drunk, but it is to leave.

Inside, there’s a small space with rows of bottles and larger jugs. In a connecting room, there’s the still itself, which he made himself. It’s rather, er, rustic. In the next room there’s a row if huge glass jars, where he’s making liqueurs from whole fruit. Including the strange pink bananas he showed us earlier in his garden.

Finally we get to the barrel room. The barrels are furry with black mould. Abd bats flutter around under the eaves when we disturb them. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.

The tour doesn’t take long. Then the sampling begins. First the silver and gold straight cachacas. They’re both very good. And the measures the size of a full measure. But the liqueurs are the true revelation. The standouts being the banana and the ginger. I’ve never experienced anything like the latter. It’s bursting with the flavour of fresh ginger: citrusy and with a tongue-tingling spiciness. Wow.

I buy bottles of the two straight cachacas and the ginger liqueur. You won’t find them anywhere else as he doesn’t distribute.

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1899 Barclay Perkins KK

I'm still chipping away at the recipes for my book "Free!". Even though it's not my current focus. Because if I don't, it'll be a nightmare trying to write hundreds of recipes at short notice.

By the end of the century, Barclay Perkins seems to have cut back to just a single Burton Ale, the weaker KK. Though that’s just relative. It still weighs in at over 7% ABV.

There have been some changes to the recipe since 1891. Out is the crystal malt, replaced by more base malt.  While in comes a little caramel. For which there can only be one reason: colour. And it does more than make up for the crystal malt in that regard.

As in a lot of their beers from this period, there are two types of East Kent hops from the 1898 and 1899 harvests. Which leave it pretty hoppy and a (calculated) 100 IBU.

I’m pretty sure this would have been at least a semi-Stock Ale. Which means six to twelve months secondary conditioning. Probably in trade casks, but possibly in a small vat. Along with Brettanomyces, of course. 

1899 Barclay Perkins KK
pale malt	11.50 lb	72.83%
flaked rice	1.75 lb	11.08%
No. 2 invert sugar	2.50 lb	15.83%
caramel 2000 SRM	0.04 lb	0.25%
Goldings 120 mins	3.00 oz
Goldings 60 mins	3.00 oz
Goldings 30 mins	3.00 oz
Goldings dry hops	1.00 oz
OG	1075
FG	1020
ABV	7.28
Apparent attenuation	73.33%
IBU	100
SRM	15
Mash at	147º F
After underlet	156º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	120 minutes
pitching temp	60º F
Yeast	Wyeast 1099 Whitbread ale

More lovely 1970s pub food

I've not finished with processed pub meals yet. I've some more lovely dried meals for you.

Other dried products. Batchelors Catering Supplies has carried out intensive research into pub catering and to give maximum assistance to the trade have catering advisory service from which brochures, recipe booklets, etc., can be obtained free of charge. Members of this service are also available at all tunes to help and advise customers. There are three recipe booklets, one gives 50 meals using Batchelors savoury mince or farmhouse stew, the next giving 50 recipes for sweets from Batchelors and the third with 50 recipes for entrées from Batchelors ready dishes.

All the products, from soup to coffee, and including quick-dried vegetables, are convenience foods. They offer no shelf-life problems, all being guaranteed for at least 12 months under normal conditions. Reconstitution is by the addition of water, bringing to the boiling point and simmering for varying periods up to about 30 minutes. Additional assistance is rendered in that these pre-prepared foods cater for snacks, simple and elaborate meals and simple and elaborate sweets. They may be made to suit the custom and, in particular, the evening out — when it is a natural thing to go to a pub for a few drinks and a meal not encountered in everyday household catering.

For a simple meal there can be beef curry and rice, chicken curry and rice, chicken supreme and rice, chicken orientale and pilaff rice or spaghetti bolognese. For the more special occasion there is an orientale medley: stuffed peppers orientale, chicken marengo, chicken supreme de luxe, spiced chicken adriatica or savoury polonaise. Sweets have been far from forgotten, for here there are the convenience packs for delectations such as souffle milannaise, apple strudel, apple torte, charlotte royale, sundaes and strawberry delight.
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 60.

Fifty meals from savoury mince and farmhouse stew? That's what I call cooking. Just add water, bring to the boil and away you go. You could even go crazy oriental. It's making my mouth water just reading about it.

Another new development was boil-in-the-bag technology.

A new concept in convenience meals was introduced nationally nearly a year ago by Cerebos Ltd. (part of Ranks Hovis McDougall), under the brand name Cerola, a range of complete meals which are easier to cook than break an egg. The packs of Cerola "Magipaks" meals, which serve either one or two persons, contain two pouches, one of meat and vegetables, another of rice. The two pouches are simply placed in a pan of boiling water and are boiled together for 15 minutes. The advantages are obvious — no preparation, no supervision, no messy cooking pans. Shelf life is indefinite and the packs are light and compact.

The range includes beef curry with rice; beef in a medium curry sauce with vegetables, tomato and sultanas. Chicken curry with rice; chicken in a mild curry sauce with red peppers, peas and sultanas. Lamb curry with rice; lamb in a strong curry sauce with apples, tomatoes, mango chutney and pineapp1e. Jambalaya; smoked ham in tomato sauce with onions, mushrooms, sweet peppers and spices, served with rice. Spaghetti Bolognese — spaghetti with a classic bolognese meat sauce with beef, tomatoes, burgundy wine and spices, served with Parmesan cheese and Paella; rice with chicken, prawns, red peppers and mushrooms in a spicy sauce.

The meat and the sauce are preserved for an indefinite shelf life with natural preservatives, involving the use of lactic acid. This procedure means that the meat and the sauce can be pasteurised rather than sterilised as in canning, and thus all the important nutrients are retained in the food. The contents are sealed in a flexible plastic pouch which allows reheating in boiling water, Boil-in-the-bag meals until now have only been available with frozen foods, where special storage facilities are essential. This, it is claimed, is the first time a range of meat products has been sucessfully preserved in a flexible plastic pouch.
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 60.

Burgundy wine? How posh. Was there real burgundy in the meal? If so, how much?

One thing I've noticed about these processed meals. They almost all come with rice. I guess that was easier to have preprocessed than rice.

The birth of Keg

The Brewers' Guardian is a gift that just keeps giving. I'm only halfway through 1970 and it's had articles - or even whole features - on exactly the topics I wanted either more information or references. As well as subjects I didn't know I needed to know more about. Like continuous fermentation.

Then I come across an article that references the title of my book on the 1970s: Evolution of the British keg system.

It kicks off with a bit of history. Some of it a little dodgy:

Mr Davidson continued with a brief look at the progress of the U.K. brewing industry over the past 100 years. Facts and figures given in this outline showed that from over 5,000 individual brewers in 1870, there are now seven large brewing groups and approximately 100 smaller and medium sized independent breweries. A great reduction in the number of public houses had taken place in the same period. Other changes had been alterations in the specific gravities of beers often averaging 1100º prior to 1870, these now averaged between 1030º and 1040º. There had also been a transition from naturally conditioned beer in wooden container (with fining taking place in the public house) to beer chilled and filtered in the brewery.
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 68.

That 1100º is way off. Average OG in 1870 was more like half that. Then he mentions evil keg replacing proper beer. The bastard.

He continues with a justification for keg. And how this cancer started.

"With bottled beer in widespread use by the mid 1930’s, the next natural logical development,” Mr. Davidson went on, "was bright beer in cask.”

"It can be said that the first step towards the keg system as we know it today was taken by Watneys, who purchased in 1929 a Bergendorfer bulk pasteuriser, which had been exhibited that year. With this pasteuriser it was hoped to overcome problems of conservation of beer exported to the Far East. In 1930 Watneys were the first to export a filtered, pasteurised beer, known as Watney Container Bitter, in stainless steel five-gallon drums.

In the following two to three years the brewery launched this container beer throughout the U.K., using stainless steel drums with a Baines neck. You will be familiar with this neck, which became virtually standard throughout the U.K. To seal the container, a snap valve was used and dispensing was by means of a Barnes syphon tube and CO2. Watneys continued to use this system until as late as 1959.
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 68.

I'm hoping this bit of history is better. Mr Davidson was sales director, Grundygroup Export Ltd., manufacturers of things like kegs. And, er Grundy tanks. Start of the 1930s. That's earlier than keg is normally supposed to have started its deadly rise. End of the decade is usually quoted. Interesting that Keg Bitter started as an export beer. That sort of makes sense.

I'm just not sure how much I should trust a salesman. I'd be more committed to it if it were coming from a brewer at Watney. Rather than the man selling them kegs. Still, it was in the Brewers' Guardian. Let's see if anyone from Watney commented on the article in a later edition.

More of the customer's view of 1970s pub food

Let's see how our three pub customers reacted to some more questions. Starting with a very early 1970s activity: driving to a country pub.

When you are out driving what prompts you to pick a particular pub for a meal break?
(a) In the summer, I most certainly look for a pub with outside chairs and tables - or perhaps a garden at the rear for customers — so that I can eat drink in the open. In the winter I tend to stop at the cosy pub rather than the imposing hotel type inns. I suppose I must relate the cosiness to home-cooking.

(b) The secluded country pub - better still one by a river. If the car park is well-filled then I am more inclined to stop because the pub must have something, even if it's only an attractive barmaid. The various "meals served-here” signs do help a suppose, but they are not greast enough publicity and so you don't know what standard to expect.

(c) As a matter of fact I usually to a ............. pub if there is one in the area. More often than not they have good and food and are pleasantly decorated. If I am in an area served by them then I go for a country pub which looks as though it has got a history. Because most of my time is spent in town during the week I like to get out of the dirt and grime and never really see town pubs other than at weekday lunch-times. I should imagine they can be pretty lifeless during the day at weekends.
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 56.

As we've been seeing, your chances of getting genuine home-cooking might not have been great. However cosy and traditional the pub might have appeared.

Would people really drive to a pub just because it had a pretty barmaid? Knowing blokes, and especially 1970s blokes, I think that's not only possible, but extremely likely.

Were town pubs really that dead during the day at weekends? That wasn't my experience of pubs in the centre of Leeds. Which would be packed, at least on a Saturday. Sunday was another matter, though. That were scarily dead everywhere. How I hated Sundays.

How do you find the standard of food and cooking in pubs compares with other eating places?
(a) By and large I think they compare very well. The thing is that with the new gadgets for quick-cooking the cleanliness and hygiene of the food can never really be in question, which is quite the reverse to some of the restaurants and cafes I have been in.

 (b) In the lunch-hour they seem to have so much to do in so little time that the quality suffers in some pubs. Things are slightly underdone, spilled, badly served and so on, In one pub I have visited in the past not too much attention was paid to the washing of plates and cutlery.

(c) In my local, both at work and at home, the quality is good if unspectacular. I think that this is probably one of the things which attracts me to the particular pubs I use. Their consistency. In restaurants one can find that the chef will have an “off" day but in pubs with cold snacks and pre-prepared foods which are just heated they seem to be able to eradicate the "human" element to quite a large degree. I have found that in some pubs where the licensee's wife experiments in foreign dishes they don't turn out quite right. Perhaps more attention should be paid to their training if they are going to a pub with a high meals trade.
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 56.

Were pub diners not very critical of the standard of food? Or was it really mostly OK? Mr. c seemed to actually prefer the prepackaged stuff because of its consistency. Which is an interesting take. And probably just as true of some punters today.