Thursday, 28 February 2013
Boston
Westport, really, I'm going to talk about today. It's a small, rural community down in the south of Massachusetts, close to the border of Rhode Island. It's where Pretty Things do their brewing, in a building that looks, from the outside, like a shingled barn.
It's not like that inside. There, its industrial purpose (and construction) are obvious. Even without all the shiny stainless steel that defines modern brewing kit. As I've said before, the new generation of breweries are similar across the world, with their conicals stretching to the ceiling.
Last week me and Andrew accompanied Dann and Martha there for a brewday. A very special brewday. One I've waited long for. Finally, finally, I'd persuaded someone to brew a William Younger's recipe. And not just any old beer. Younger's No. 1, the definition of a Scottish Strong Ale. Or Strong Scotch Ale. Whatever you care to call it.
There was another brewer along for the day. Jeff Biegert, from New Belgium, a brewing buddy of Dann's from way back. There was a special reason he came along. A reason closely connected with the beer itself. And something typical of Younger.
Scottish brewers were never big users of sugar, but there was one adjunct they embraced wholeheartedly: maize. Mostly in the form of grits. And what do grits mean? A cereal mash.
"You can use flaked maize if you want, Dann." I told him, expecting him not wanting to fiddle around with a cereal mash. Not only didn't he mind, he positively wanted to give it a go.
"I've only done one once, years ago. I'd like to give it another try."
It turns out that Dann's one cereal mashing experience had been shared with Jeff. So he decided to invite him down for the brewday.
Maybe it was partly for the help. Help carrying sacks of grits up to the brewing stage. Oh no. Memories of Beau's and the sack upon sack of oats the poor brewers had to lug up to the mash tun surged back up the drainpipe of my mind. I really should try to pick more brewer-friendly recipes.
The malt was mashed first. That safely done, it was time for the cereal mash.
Once all the grits were in the Lauter tun and mixed with hot water, the anxiety began. Would the grits convert. We kept taking out a little and tasting it, to see if it was turning sweet. I can see why they're called grits. They've got a very gritty texture, especially at the start of the process. Little seemed to be happening at first, and Dann became ever more nervous. After a few samples we wondered: is it getting sweeter? Is it converting?
No need to fret. The mash sweetened and it was obvious there were no problems with conversion. Not that I'd been worried. Then again, it wasn't my money on the line. Or about to be poured down the drain. The wort from the grits was pumped over to join the rest of the mash and we were done. Mashing, at least.
Being there during brewing was handy. I could do my throwing in hops thing. But also me and Dann could discuss the hop additions, even as the boil was underway. We settled on 20 minutes for the last one. A slightly arbitrary decision, but one based on the practices of the period. (I haven't mentioned that yet, have I, the period? 1939. That's when the original beer was brewed.)
The hopping wasn't the end of my contribution. Though I know from analyses that No. 1 was a dark beer, the grist contained nothing darker than a little crystal malt. As brewed, the wort was a pale amber, way paler than the finished beer should be. I know how they got the colour: caramel. Scottish brewers loved colouring up their beer with caramel. Dann added a little caramel at a time, and brought back samples for me to look at.
"Is this dark enough, Ron?"
"Naah, needs to be darker than that. Think Dark Mild."
"About the colour of Old Peculier?"
"That's the one."
Makes me feel much more deserving of my name in the credits, having made that contribution.
The 1939 Younger's No. 1 is currently bubbling away in a conical. I can't wait to try it.
It's not like that inside. There, its industrial purpose (and construction) are obvious. Even without all the shiny stainless steel that defines modern brewing kit. As I've said before, the new generation of breweries are similar across the world, with their conicals stretching to the ceiling.
Last week me and Andrew accompanied Dann and Martha there for a brewday. A very special brewday. One I've waited long for. Finally, finally, I'd persuaded someone to brew a William Younger's recipe. And not just any old beer. Younger's No. 1, the definition of a Scottish Strong Ale. Or Strong Scotch Ale. Whatever you care to call it.
There was another brewer along for the day. Jeff Biegert, from New Belgium, a brewing buddy of Dann's from way back. There was a special reason he came along. A reason closely connected with the beer itself. And something typical of Younger.
Scottish brewers were never big users of sugar, but there was one adjunct they embraced wholeheartedly: maize. Mostly in the form of grits. And what do grits mean? A cereal mash.
"You can use flaked maize if you want, Dann." I told him, expecting him not wanting to fiddle around with a cereal mash. Not only didn't he mind, he positively wanted to give it a go.
"I've only done one once, years ago. I'd like to give it another try."
It turns out that Dann's one cereal mashing experience had been shared with Jeff. So he decided to invite him down for the brewday.
Maybe it was partly for the help. Help carrying sacks of grits up to the brewing stage. Oh no. Memories of Beau's and the sack upon sack of oats the poor brewers had to lug up to the mash tun surged back up the drainpipe of my mind. I really should try to pick more brewer-friendly recipes.
The malt was mashed first. That safely done, it was time for the cereal mash.
Once all the grits were in the Lauter tun and mixed with hot water, the anxiety began. Would the grits convert. We kept taking out a little and tasting it, to see if it was turning sweet. I can see why they're called grits. They've got a very gritty texture, especially at the start of the process. Little seemed to be happening at first, and Dann became ever more nervous. After a few samples we wondered: is it getting sweeter? Is it converting?
No need to fret. The mash sweetened and it was obvious there were no problems with conversion. Not that I'd been worried. Then again, it wasn't my money on the line. Or about to be poured down the drain. The wort from the grits was pumped over to join the rest of the mash and we were done. Mashing, at least.
Being there during brewing was handy. I could do my throwing in hops thing. But also me and Dann could discuss the hop additions, even as the boil was underway. We settled on 20 minutes for the last one. A slightly arbitrary decision, but one based on the practices of the period. (I haven't mentioned that yet, have I, the period? 1939. That's when the original beer was brewed.)
The hopping wasn't the end of my contribution. Though I know from analyses that No. 1 was a dark beer, the grist contained nothing darker than a little crystal malt. As brewed, the wort was a pale amber, way paler than the finished beer should be. I know how they got the colour: caramel. Scottish brewers loved colouring up their beer with caramel. Dann added a little caramel at a time, and brought back samples for me to look at.
"Is this dark enough, Ron?"
"Naah, needs to be darker than that. Think Dark Mild."
"About the colour of Old Peculier?"
"That's the one."
Makes me feel much more deserving of my name in the credits, having made that contribution.
The 1939 Younger's No. 1 is currently bubbling away in a conical. I can't wait to try it.
Wednesday, 27 February 2013
Tetley Pale Ale grists 1858 - 1896
Time for part two of my look at Tetley's Pale Ale in the 19th century. We'll be looking at their grists and how they compared to those of London and Burton Pale Ales. Sound like fun?
I'll repeat my word of warning about the naming of this Tetley's beers. Called PA in the brewing books, it was advertised and marketed as East India Pale Ale. The last Pretty Things Once Upon a Time release, 1878 East India Pale Ale, is a version of this beer. And very nice it is, too. The best Tetley's Bitter I've ever had. Even better than in the Black Dog in Cross Green.
There's something new about the table this time. I've included details of the type of hops used. Just to bulk out the material, really. If you've paid attention to what I've previously written about 19th-century Pale ales you'll know how dull the grists are. Just pale malt and sugar. Or, as in the case of most of the beers here, just pale malt. They were an unfussy bunch back then, with a liking for simple recipes.
Lack of sugar is what distinguishes Tetley's Pale Ale from Whitbread's. The latter has around 20% sugar all the way through the time period covered. At Tetley's, sugar only appears in the 1890's, and then in a much lower proportion, under 10% of the total. Tetley's PA, in grist terms, looks closer to Truman's. Where only a small amount of sugar is used.
That's it for what I can say about the grist. You can see why I decided to include hop details.
Once again, the Whitbread beers stand out. They used exclusively English hops, though annoyingly didn't indicate which region they came from. This was specific to their PA. Their other beers included some American hops.
The type of hops Tetley and Truman used are more similar: Kent and Worcester hops with some foreign hops. Though the origin of the foreign hops was different: American hops in the case of Truman and European hops at Tetley. You can see a pattern that's typical of the 19th century in general. The more the century progresses, the more foreign hops that are employed.
Even with the hop stuff, I've not managed to stretch this out much. I'm done.
I'll repeat my word of warning about the naming of this Tetley's beers. Called PA in the brewing books, it was advertised and marketed as East India Pale Ale. The last Pretty Things Once Upon a Time release, 1878 East India Pale Ale, is a version of this beer. And very nice it is, too. The best Tetley's Bitter I've ever had. Even better than in the Black Dog in Cross Green.
There's something new about the table this time. I've included details of the type of hops used. Just to bulk out the material, really. If you've paid attention to what I've previously written about 19th-century Pale ales you'll know how dull the grists are. Just pale malt and sugar. Or, as in the case of most of the beers here, just pale malt. They were an unfussy bunch back then, with a liking for simple recipes.
Lack of sugar is what distinguishes Tetley's Pale Ale from Whitbread's. The latter has around 20% sugar all the way through the time period covered. At Tetley's, sugar only appears in the 1890's, and then in a much lower proportion, under 10% of the total. Tetley's PA, in grist terms, looks closer to Truman's. Where only a small amount of sugar is used.
That's it for what I can say about the grist. You can see why I decided to include hop details.
Once again, the Whitbread beers stand out. They used exclusively English hops, though annoyingly didn't indicate which region they came from. This was specific to their PA. Their other beers included some American hops.
The type of hops Tetley and Truman used are more similar: Kent and Worcester hops with some foreign hops. Though the origin of the foreign hops was different: American hops in the case of Truman and European hops at Tetley. You can see a pattern that's typical of the 19th century in general. The more the century progresses, the more foreign hops that are employed.
Even with the hop stuff, I've not managed to stretch this out much. I'm done.
Tetley Pale Ale grists 1858 - 1896 | ||||||||||
Year | Beer | OG | FG | ABV | App. Atten-uation | lbs hops/ qtr | hops lb/brl | pale malt | no. 2 sugar | hops |
1858 | A | 1062.6 | 1015.0 | 6.30 | 76.11% | 17.56 | 4.39 | 100.00% | English hops | |
1858 | A | 1063.7 | 1023.8 | 5.28 | 62.61% | 17.56 | 4.39 | 100.00% | English hops | |
1858 | A | 1065.1 | 1029.9 | 4.65 | 54.04% | 17.56 | 4.39 | 100.00% | English hops | |
1868 | PA | 1060.1 | 1015.0 | 5.97 | 75.12% | 18.00 | 4.60 | 100.00% | Kent and Worcester hops | |
1868 | PA | 1061.8 | 1012.2 | 6.56 | 80.27% | 18.00 | 4.44 | 100.00% | Kent and Worcester hops | |
1868 | PA | 1058.2 | 1014.4 | 5.79 | 75.24% | 18.00 | 4.14 | 100.00% | Kent and Worcester hops | |
1878 | PA | 1060.7 | 1011.6 | 6.49 | 80.82% | 18.00 | 4.69 | 100.00% | Alsace, Kent and Worcester hops | |
1878 | PA | 1056.5 | 1011.6 | 5.94 | 79.41% | 18.00 | 4.37 | 100.00% | Alsace, Kent and Worcester hops | |
1878 | PA | 1060.7 | 1011.6 | 6.49 | 80.82% | 18.00 | 4.45 | 100.00% | Kent, Worcester and Bavarian hops | |
1878 | PA | 1060.7 | 1011.1 | 6.56 | 81.74% | 18.00 | 4.57 | 100.00% | Kent, Worcester and Bavarian hops | |
1888 | PA | 1063.2 | 1011.4 | 6.85 | 82.02% | 16.00 | 5.75 | 100.00% | Kent, Worcester and Burgundy hops | |
1896 | PA | 1062.9 | 1011.6 | 6.78 | 81.50% | 13.92 | 3.64 | 92.69% | 7.31% | Austrian, Kent and Worcester Hops |
1896 | PA | 1062.0 | 1012.2 | 6.60 | 80.36% | 12.29 | 3.00 | 91.53% | 8.47% | Austrian, Kent and Worcester Hops |
Sources: | ||||||||||
Tetley brewing records held at the West Yorkshire Archive Service document numbers WYL756/11/ACC1903, WYL756/16/ACC1903, WYL756/25/ACC1903, WYL756/44/ACC1903 and WYL756/49/ACC1903. |
Whitbread Pale Ale grists 1865 - 1896 | ||||||||||
Year | Beer | OG | FG | ABV | App. Atten-uation | lbs hops/ qtr | hops lb/brl | pale malt | sugar | hops |
1865 | PA | 1061.8 | 1012.7 | 6.49 | 79.37% | 14.67 | 4.36 | 82.95% | 17.05% | English hops |
1867 | PA | 1063.2 | 1017.7 | 6.01 | 71.93% | 15.06 | 4.87 | 79.06% | 20.94% | English hops |
1878 | PA | 1058.4 | 1011.1 | 6.27 | 81.04% | 12.19 | 3.60 | 75.13% | 24.87% | English hops |
1888 | PA | 1061.2 | 1018.8 | 5.61 | 69.23% | 12.43 | 3.49 | 76.92% | 23.08% | English hops |
1896 | PA | 1060.9 | 1015.0 | 6.08 | 75.39% | 14.59 | 4.03 | 78.08% | 21.92% | English hops |
Sources: | ||||||||||
Whitbread brewing records held at the London Metropolitan Archives document numbers LMA/4453/D/01/030, LMA/4453/D/01/033, LMA/4453/D/01/044, LMA/4453/D/01/054 and LMA/4453/D/01/062. |
Truman (Burton) Pale Ale grists 1877 - 1887 | ||||||||||
Year | Beer | OG | FG | ABV | App. Atten-uation | lbs hops/ qtr | hops lb/brl | pale malt | sugar | hops |
1877 | P2 | 1062.3 | 1019.4 | 5.68 | 68.89% | 19.00 | 5.01 | 100.00% | American and Sussex hops | |
1877 | P1 | 1066.5 | 1016.6 | 6.60 | 75.00% | 19.00 | 5.39 | 100.00% | American and Sussex hops | |
1887 | P1 S | 1066.5 | 1019.4 | 6.23 | 70.83% | 17.44 | 5.00 | 100.00% | Kent and Worcester hops | |
1887 | P2 | 1061.2 | 1013.9 | 6.27 | 77.38% | 14.70 | 4.45 | 94.44% | 5.56% | Kent, Worcester and California hops |
Sources: | ||||||||||
Truman brewing records held at the London Metropolitan Archives document numbers B/THB/BUR/35 and B/THB/BUR/11. |
Labels:
19th century,
Burton,
India Pale Ale,
IPA,
Leeds,
London,
pale ale,
Tetley's,
Truman,
Whitbread
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
The putting down of drunkenness
At the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century there was a high level of legislative interference in the pub trade. From suppressing drunkenness to reducing the number of licences, government stuck its nose into many aspects of a landlord's business.
That's why organisations like the Licensed Victuallers Central Protection Society appeared. They were the trade's reaction to attacks by temperance groups and politicians sympathetic to them. They spent their time trying to argue against the most restrictive and destructive changes in the law. Of course, the temperance groups wouln't have been content with anything short of total prohibition.
I can't help wondering exactly how drunkenness was defined. It would be odd if no degree of intoxication at all were allowed. Making the simple act of drunkenness an offence seems pretty dodgy to me. And giving the police fairly arbitrary powers to arrest anyone they felt like who had been drinking.
"salutary punishment for drunken persons in charge of young children" Shit. I think that one could have got me in trouble. I like to think of my pub expeditions with the kids as character building. And helping them with their orienteering skills. "Take daddy home, please." Just as well Andrew had memorised the whole of the Amsterdam tram network by the age of 2.
The tax they're moaning about is the 1s per standard barrel increase that was introduced in 1901 to hep pay for the Boer War. Obviously, it was never removed. The exact opposite, in fact. Nowadays an increase from 36s to 37s a barrel would hardly be noticed. But that increase needs to be put into context. The price of a barrel of Mild had been constant for 30 or 40 years.
That's why organisations like the Licensed Victuallers Central Protection Society appeared. They were the trade's reaction to attacks by temperance groups and politicians sympathetic to them. They spent their time trying to argue against the most restrictive and destructive changes in the law. Of course, the temperance groups wouln't have been content with anything short of total prohibition.
"LICENSED VICTUALLERS.
THE NEW ACT EXPOUNDED AT ROMFORD.
The Romford and District Licensed Victuallers' Association held a special meeting on Thurs day at the Swan Hotel, Romford. Members of the Essex and the Gray's Licensed Victuallers' Associations also attended
Mr. J. W. Braund, who presided, said they were met to consider the new Licensing Act, and also the remission of the taxes on beer and spirits. Most distinctly the principle behind this Act of Parliament was the putting down of drunkenness. He was not sanguine that legislation would do anything towards that end. The Act created a new precedent, and he took it that it would be the duty of a policeman who saw a drunken man entering a public-house to warn the licensee of the fact, as drunkenness was to be treated as a crime. They were more fortunate in Romford than in most districts, as they were happy in the possession of a most fair and upright Bench of magistrates, and in the local police they had a superintendent and staff who could be relied upon to do all tbey could to help licence-holders to conduct their houses properly.
Mr. Johnson, chairman of the Licensed Victuallers Central Protection Society, said there was no one more desirous of doing what he could to prevent drunkenness than the licence-holder. [Hear, hear.] On and after the lst of January next any person would be liabie to arrest for simple drunkenness. Under the new Act there was salutary punishment for drunken persons in charge of young children, and he was sure that would meet with their hearty support. [Hear, hear.] The finding a drunken person on licensed premises would be of itself evidence of an offence, and it would thus be seen that it would be impossible to exercise too much care to detect and prevent the presence of drunken persons on licensed premises. Under the Act a remedy was provided for both husbands and wives who were afflicted with drunken partners. Either husband or wife would be able to plead the habitual drunkenness of their degraded partner as constructive cruelty and would be able to claim a judicial separation. Surely they would say that was a step in the right direction. [Hear, hear.] Under the provisions for identifying habitual drunkards they would have to do the best they could to identify these people. His own idea was that if they treated habitual drunkenness as a crime without a defence they would stamp it out. He instanced tbe difference in the penalties inflicted on the habitual drunkard and the licence holder who served him as showing that those who framed the Act could not get rid of the unjust idea that the drunken person was caused by the licensee.
Mr. Edwin Faox and Mr. Rutherford expressed similar views. The Chairman said the tax they were paying on beer was pressing very hard on every publican. He was decidedly of opinion that any tax that had a tendency to restrict trade was bad all round. In some cases it was a question of 1s., 1s. 6d., or 2s. per barrel. The publicans paid the tax willingly when the war was on, and they alone had had to pay it. Assessments and rates were increasing, and all these thiugs pressed very heavily on the trade.
Mr. Frank Norris said the tax fell heavily upon Romford especially, as publicans paid 37s. a barrel for mild ale.
Essex Newsman - Saturday 08 November 1902, page 1.
I can't help wondering exactly how drunkenness was defined. It would be odd if no degree of intoxication at all were allowed. Making the simple act of drunkenness an offence seems pretty dodgy to me. And giving the police fairly arbitrary powers to arrest anyone they felt like who had been drinking.
"salutary punishment for drunken persons in charge of young children" Shit. I think that one could have got me in trouble. I like to think of my pub expeditions with the kids as character building. And helping them with their orienteering skills. "Take daddy home, please." Just as well Andrew had memorised the whole of the Amsterdam tram network by the age of 2.
The tax they're moaning about is the 1s per standard barrel increase that was introduced in 1901 to hep pay for the Boer War. Obviously, it was never removed. The exact opposite, in fact. Nowadays an increase from 36s to 37s a barrel would hardly be noticed. But that increase needs to be put into context. The price of a barrel of Mild had been constant for 30 or 40 years.
Monday, 25 February 2013
Tetley Pale Ale 1858 - 1896
As you can see, my laziness continues. I still can't quite make
myself work through Tetley's Milds yet. So this time we're looking at
their Pale Ale.
Was it a Pale or an IPA? Now there's a tricky question. Inside the brew house, the name was definitely PA. But all the advertisements call it East India Pale Ale. So what is it really? To be honest, I don't really care. Pale Ale, IPA - it's pretty much the same thing, despite what anally-retentive home brewers might insist.
As usual, I'll be making a comparison with my usual benchmark, similar beers from London. But, because this is Pale Ale we're looking at, I've thrown is some from Truman's Burton brewery, too.
There's phenomenon that you often see when a beer style is new. Initially, versions from different breweries and in different regions are very similar, clearly taking a beer as an example and cloning it fairly closely. As time progressed, versions from different regions begin to diverge and acquire their own character.
You can see this in the beers below. The Pale Ales from Yorkshire, London and Burton are generally very similar beers. The gravities, level of attenuation and hopping levels are all broadly the same. OG's in the low 1060's, 75-80% attenuation, 4-5 lbs of hops per barrel. Whitbread's hopping rate was a little lower and Tetley dropped theirs in the 1890's, but in general there's not much between the beers in terms of specifications.
There is some difference in the process. The boil times are quite short in London and quite long in Burton with Leeds in between. The pitching temperature looks much higher at Tetley but, as they didn't let it rise much during fermentation, there was probably little difference in the actual fermentation temperature. But because I don't have the maximum temperatures for Whitbread and Truman, we can't see that for certain.
I'm not sure what I've proved with this, other than that Pale Ales were much the same everywhere in the late 19th century.
Next time, we'll be seeing how the grists of these beers compare.
Was it a Pale or an IPA? Now there's a tricky question. Inside the brew house, the name was definitely PA. But all the advertisements call it East India Pale Ale. So what is it really? To be honest, I don't really care. Pale Ale, IPA - it's pretty much the same thing, despite what anally-retentive home brewers might insist.
As usual, I'll be making a comparison with my usual benchmark, similar beers from London. But, because this is Pale Ale we're looking at, I've thrown is some from Truman's Burton brewery, too.
There's phenomenon that you often see when a beer style is new. Initially, versions from different breweries and in different regions are very similar, clearly taking a beer as an example and cloning it fairly closely. As time progressed, versions from different regions begin to diverge and acquire their own character.
You can see this in the beers below. The Pale Ales from Yorkshire, London and Burton are generally very similar beers. The gravities, level of attenuation and hopping levels are all broadly the same. OG's in the low 1060's, 75-80% attenuation, 4-5 lbs of hops per barrel. Whitbread's hopping rate was a little lower and Tetley dropped theirs in the 1890's, but in general there's not much between the beers in terms of specifications.
There is some difference in the process. The boil times are quite short in London and quite long in Burton with Leeds in between. The pitching temperature looks much higher at Tetley but, as they didn't let it rise much during fermentation, there was probably little difference in the actual fermentation temperature. But because I don't have the maximum temperatures for Whitbread and Truman, we can't see that for certain.
I'm not sure what I've proved with this, other than that Pale Ales were much the same everywhere in the late 19th century.
Next time, we'll be seeing how the grists of these beers compare.
Tetley Pale Ale 1858 - 1896 | |||||||||||||
Year | Beer | OG | FG | ABV | App. Atten-uation | lbs hops/ qtr | hops lb/brl | boil time (hours) | boil time (hours) | boil time (hours) | Pitch temp | max. fermen-tation temp | length of fermen-tation (days) |
1858 | A | 1062.6 | 1015.0 | 6.30 | 76.11% | 17.56 | 4.39 | 1.5 | 1.5 | 60º | 70º | 9 | |
1858 | A | 1063.7 | 1023.8 | 5.28 | 62.61% | 17.56 | 4.39 | 1 | 1 | 58º | 69º | 9 | |
1858 | A | 1065.1 | 1029.9 | 4.65 | 54.04% | 17.56 | 4.39 | 1.5 | 1.5 | 61.75º | 70º | 8 | |
1868 | PA | 1060.1 | 1015.0 | 5.97 | 75.12% | 18.00 | 4.60 | 1.5 | 1.5 | 59º | 64º | 7 | |
1868 | PA | 1061.8 | 1012.2 | 6.56 | 80.27% | 18.00 | 4.44 | 1.5 | 1.5 | 58º | 65º | 8 | |
1868 | PA | 1058.2 | 1014.4 | 5.79 | 75.24% | 18.00 | 4.14 | 1.5 | 2 | 62º | 68º | ||
1878 | PA | 1060.7 | 1011.6 | 6.49 | 80.82% | 18.00 | 4.69 | 2 | 68º | 69.75º | 10 | ||
1878 | PA | 1056.5 | 1011.6 | 5.94 | 79.41% | 18.00 | 4.37 | 2 | 68º | 69.75º | 10 | ||
1878 | PA | 1060.7 | 1011.6 | 6.49 | 80.82% | 18.00 | 4.45 | 2 | 68º | 69.75º | 11 | ||
1878 | PA | 1060.7 | 1011.1 | 6.56 | 81.74% | 18.00 | 4.57 | 2 | 68º | 69.5º | 10 | ||
1888 | PA | 1063.2 | 1011.4 | 6.85 | 82.02% | 16.00 | 5.75 | 2 | 61º | 68º | 8 | ||
1896 | PA | 1062.9 | 1011.6 | 6.78 | 81.50% | 13.92 | 3.64 | 2 | 2 | 2 | 60.5º | 68.5º | 9 |
1896 | PA | 1062.0 | 1012.2 | 6.60 | 80.36% | 12.29 | 3.00 | 2 | 2 | 2 | 60.5º | 68.75º | 9 |
Sources: | |||||||||||||
Tetley brewing records held at the West Yorkshire Archive Service document numbers WYL756/11/ACC1903, WYL756/16/ACC1903, WYL756/25/ACC1903, WYL756/44/ACC1903 and WYL756/49/ACC1903. |
Whitbread Pale Ale 1865 - 1896 | |||||||||||||
Year | Beer | OG | FG | ABV | App. Atten-uation | lbs hops/ qtr | hops lb/brl | boil time (hours) | boil time (hours) | boil time (hours) | Pitch temp | max. fermen-tation temp | length of fermen-tation (days) |
1865 | PA | 1061.8 | 1012.7 | 6.49 | 79.37% | 14.67 | 4.36 | 58º | º | 7 | |||
1867 | PA | 1063.2 | 1017.7 | 6.01 | 71.93% | 15.06 | 4.87 | 58º | º | 6 | |||
1878 | PA | 1058.4 | 1011.1 | 6.27 | 81.04% | 12.19 | 3.60 | 2.33 | 58º | º | 10 | ||
1888 | PA | 1061.2 | 1018.8 | 5.61 | 69.23% | 12.43 | 3.49 | 1.33 | 1.75 | 57º | º | ||
1896 | PA | 1060.9 | 1015.0 | 6.08 | 75.39% | 14.59 | 4.03 | 1.5 | 1.75 | 57º | º | ||
Sources: | |||||||||||||
Whitbread brewing records held at the London Metropolitan Archives document numbers |
Truman (Burton) Pale Ale 1877 - 1887 | |||||||||||
Year | Beer | OG | FG | ABV | App. Atten-uation | lbs hops/ qtr | hops lb/brl | boil time (hours) | boil time (hours) | boil time (hours) | Pitch temp |
1877 | P2 | 1062.3 | 1019.4 | 5.68 | 68.89% | 19.00 | 5.01 | 3 | 3 | 3 | 58º |
1877 | P1 | 1066.5 | 1016.6 | 6.60 | 75.00% | 19.00 | 5.39 | 3 | 3.25 | 3 | 57º |
1887 | P1 S | 1066.5 | 1019.4 | 6.23 | 70.83% | 17.44 | 5.00 | 3 | 3 | 3 | 56º |
1887 | P2 | 1061.2 | 1013.9 | 6.27 | 77.38% | 14.70 | 4.45 | 3 | 3 | 3 | 58º |
Sources: | |||||||||||
Truman brewing records held at the London Metropolitan Archives document numbers B/THB/BUR/35 and B/THB/BUR/11. |
Sunday, 24 February 2013
Something for Sunday Brunch
I did something new today. Emailed a live TV programme. It's all to do with my shouting.
Sunday Brunch (my apologies to those who don't receive Channel 4) in the background is as much a part of Sunday and Sunday cooking as Round the Horne, The Clitheroe Kid and Radio Nottingham's The Golden Years were when I was a kid.
There's one thing I admire about their drinks slot. It isn't just wine and cocktails. Beer figures regularly.
But when they announced they'd be tasting IPA, my heart went looking for Australia. No, no. Not after I'd managed to get all the way through that German beer programme without apoplexy (it was all just a trick - I switched off translating). After my Harvard bookshop experience, I knew exactly what they were going to say in the intro: strong, hoppy to survive the journey to India.
That's when I did the emaily thing. This is it:
When the slot arrived, I was stunned by Rebecca Seal's introduction. Paraphrasing, she said that it was disputed whether IPA was "invented" in the late 18th century especially to ship to India. And that the top ABV in the 19th Century was 7%, which is also about right.
Wow. No need to shout. Nor to send that email.
It's a weird feeling. Watching a beer slot on TV without the need to scream.
Thank you Rebecca.
Sunday Brunch (my apologies to those who don't receive Channel 4) in the background is as much a part of Sunday and Sunday cooking as Round the Horne, The Clitheroe Kid and Radio Nottingham's The Golden Years were when I was a kid.
There's one thing I admire about their drinks slot. It isn't just wine and cocktails. Beer figures regularly.
But when they announced they'd be tasting IPA, my heart went looking for Australia. No, no. Not after I'd managed to get all the way through that German beer programme without apoplexy (it was all just a trick - I switched off translating). After my Harvard bookshop experience, I knew exactly what they were going to say in the intro: strong, hoppy to survive the journey to India.
That's when I did the emaily thing. This is it:
"please don't spoil my family's Sunday by saying IPA was brewed strong to survive the journey to India. It wasn't. 19th-century IPAs were weaker than Mild Ale. Every time someone repeats this myth I shout at the television and frighten the kids."
When the slot arrived, I was stunned by Rebecca Seal's introduction. Paraphrasing, she said that it was disputed whether IPA was "invented" in the late 18th century especially to ship to India. And that the top ABV in the 19th Century was 7%, which is also about right.
Wow. No need to shout. Nor to send that email.
It's a weird feeling. Watching a beer slot on TV without the need to scream.
Thank you Rebecca.
What should we get.....
to do di brews?
Me and Andrew. We're going to homebrew.
Watching me throw in a few hops out at Westport with Dann has caught his attention. As long as no scary ladder climbs are included.
If I want to brew 15-25 litres, what equipment should I get? I'm thinking mash tun, kettle, 2-3 fermenters. I definitely want a separate mash tun and kettle to be able to parti-gyle.
This sort of thing, but on a bit smaller scale:
Be grateful for any advice.
Me and Andrew. We're going to homebrew.
Watching me throw in a few hops out at Westport with Dann has caught his attention. As long as no scary ladder climbs are included.
If I want to brew 15-25 litres, what equipment should I get? I'm thinking mash tun, kettle, 2-3 fermenters. I definitely want a separate mash tun and kettle to be able to parti-gyle.
This sort of thing, but on a bit smaller scale:
Be grateful for any advice.
A publican's profit
We're back with the topic of a publican's profit during WW II. This time it's their trade organisation in Plymouth complaining about the fall in their profit margin on beer.
If you can remember what I wrote about the profit margin on London beers before and during the war, you'll see a similar pattern being repeated. In the case of London, the margin fell from over 20% in the 1930's to under 15% in 1943.
I have to mention cider, too. Or cyder as is was still usually spelled back then. See how ludicrously cheap it is compared to everything else? Less than half the price of the cheapest draught beer. That's because this was in the happy days when there was no tax on cider. On the other hand, it wouldn't have even appeared in these price-fixing agreements for most of the country. Consumption of cider was a fraction of what it is today and it remained very much a regional product. Plymouth is, of course, in Devon, right in the heart of cider country.
Subscribing to the air-raid fund would definitely have been a good idea. As a port on the south coast, Plymouth was bound to be bombed. As it was also a naval base, it was doubly a target.
If you can remember what I wrote about the profit margin on London beers before and during the war, you'll see a similar pattern being repeated. In the case of London, the margin fell from over 20% in the 1930's to under 15% in 1943.
"AIR-RAID FUND FOR LICENSEESThe list of expensive bottled beers tells its own story. You'd expect to see Bass, Worthington and Guinness in there. Ind Coope D.D. is a new one. I'm sure older readers will know which beer that is - Double Diamond.
Plymouth Move
NEW LIQUOR PRICES FIXED
Approval was given to the inauguration of an air-raid benevolent fund for its members when Plymouth and District Wine, Spirit, and Beer Trade Protection Society met at Farley Hotel, Plymouth, yesterday to consider recommended public bar prices consequent upon the increased taxation announced in the recent Budget. Mr. G. A. Ryman (president) said that this was the third Budget since the commencement of the war, and their profits had dropped from 26 to 16 per cent, on draught beers. If the price of beer went on increasing like this, licensees would be working for nothing. No. 7 district had met the previous day and were not satisfied with the position, and they were taking steps to see that retailers should get a chance of making living. It was a serious matter.
The increase on tobacco and cigarettes had been put into operation on Thursday, but the "Trade" had given a better concession in deciding not to increase prices until Monday next.
OPERATIVE NEXT MONDAY.
Recommended public bar prices to come into force next Monday were: Draught beer 8d. a pint; mild ale (Burton) 10d.: pale ale (Burton) 11d.; cyder (rough) 3.5d. Bottled beer (Bass, Worthington. Ind Coope D.D., Guinness, and other brands of higher gravities) 1s. 5d. a pint, 9d. half-pint, baby 6.5d.; other bottle beers of lower gravities 0.5d. on half-pint, 1d. on pint. Port, sherry, and cocktails, 9d.
Heavy wines would be increased a 1d. a glass and 1s. a bottle for outdoor consumption; light wines should be increased by not less than 0.5d. a glass and 6d. a bottle.
Mr. J. Squire (trustee) questioned whether a 1d. pint would be the maximum increase on bottled beers, particularly for the higher gravities. The recommended prices were approved.
BENEVOLENT FUND.
Mr. Ryman said that the committee had suggested the inauguration of an air-raid benevolent fund in case any members became victims of an air raid and required immediate aid. Already £111 had been raised by voluntary subscriptions from members of the committee, and letters were to be sent to all members. Only subscribers to the fund would benefit.
Mr. Lee suggested members should contribute £3 each.
Mr. Ryman replied that was not desired to enforce any particular sum; this was a matter for each individual member's conscience.
The inauguration of the fund was approved, and the secretary (Mr. A. J. Collins) was authorized to circularize members for subscriptions."
Western Morning News - Saturday 27 July 1940, page 5.
I have to mention cider, too. Or cyder as is was still usually spelled back then. See how ludicrously cheap it is compared to everything else? Less than half the price of the cheapest draught beer. That's because this was in the happy days when there was no tax on cider. On the other hand, it wouldn't have even appeared in these price-fixing agreements for most of the country. Consumption of cider was a fraction of what it is today and it remained very much a regional product. Plymouth is, of course, in Devon, right in the heart of cider country.
Subscribing to the air-raid fund would definitely have been a good idea. As a port on the south coast, Plymouth was bound to be bombed. As it was also a naval base, it was doubly a target.
Labels:
Bass,
Bitter,
Guinness,
Ind Coope,
Mild,
Mild Ale,
profiteering,
Worthington,
WW II
Saturday, 23 February 2013
Gobsmacked
Thanks to Aaron Bennett for the Charlie Papazian text I'd requested.
I've seen some bollocks written about beer history, but this take the whole McVitie's warehouse:
Even the worst writers realise Russian Stout is, er, a Stout. They might name the wrong Russian monarch as its recipient, or talk twaddle about its strength being to avoid freezing in transit. But they do get its basic Stoutiness right.
He can't have ever tried the beer. It's pitch black and the flavour is, well, Stouty.
I'm gobsmacked.
I've seen some bollocks written about beer history, but this take the whole McVitie's warehouse:
"Most barley wines are golden or copper colored. One style that is a deep rich copper brown is represenetd by Russian Imperial Stout brewed by the Courage Brewery in England. It is a style unto itself, not really a stout in the traditional sense , but historically named for its strength."
"The Complete Joy of Homebrewing" by Charlie Papazian, page 135.
Even the worst writers realise Russian Stout is, er, a Stout. They might name the wrong Russian monarch as its recipient, or talk twaddle about its strength being to avoid freezing in transit. But they do get its basic Stoutiness right.
He can't have ever tried the beer. It's pitch black and the flavour is, well, Stouty.
I'm gobsmacked.
Back from Boston
I'm just back from a week in cold and snowy Boston. Lots of fun, but the weather was a bit limiting. Very busy, too.
I drank a random selection of Pretty Things stuff, Stouts, a few IPAs, beers people gave me and whatever looked decent in whichever pub I was in. Met old friends, made new ones and generally had a good time. I even spent a few hours with the family.
But I'm not here to talk about my time in Boston. Well, not directly.
We'd been advised that the Coop on Harvard Square was the cheapest place to buy Harvard stuff. But mostly it sells books. I couldn't resist taking a look at the beer section.
And there was really a section. Even though it was labelled "Wines and Spirits", there were a decent number of books. About 30 times as many as you'll find in a large German bookshop. Mostly American stuff, but some by British authors.
It gave me a chance to take a look at some books I'd heard about, but not seen. You can probably guess what's coming next. I had a simple way of checking their accuracy: look at what they said about the history of IPA, Porter, Stout and Mild.
I'm not sure what's more depressing: the errors or the fact that they all repeated the same ones. I don't think anyone had researched any further than the BJCP guidelines.
There was one unique to a single book. Something about Russian Stout, saying that it was really a type of Barley Wine and not a Stout in the modern sense at all. Quite an impressive garbling of history. Mixing up the stories of Burton Ale and Russian Stout.
I'm pretty sure it was in "The Complete Joy of Homebrewing" by Charlie Papazian. But I'm not sure, because I looked at 8 or 10 books. Does anyone own a copy? If you do, could you send me the passage in question? It's not that long.
I drank a random selection of Pretty Things stuff, Stouts, a few IPAs, beers people gave me and whatever looked decent in whichever pub I was in. Met old friends, made new ones and generally had a good time. I even spent a few hours with the family.
But I'm not here to talk about my time in Boston. Well, not directly.
We'd been advised that the Coop on Harvard Square was the cheapest place to buy Harvard stuff. But mostly it sells books. I couldn't resist taking a look at the beer section.
And there was really a section. Even though it was labelled "Wines and Spirits", there were a decent number of books. About 30 times as many as you'll find in a large German bookshop. Mostly American stuff, but some by British authors.
It gave me a chance to take a look at some books I'd heard about, but not seen. You can probably guess what's coming next. I had a simple way of checking their accuracy: look at what they said about the history of IPA, Porter, Stout and Mild.
I'm not sure what's more depressing: the errors or the fact that they all repeated the same ones. I don't think anyone had researched any further than the BJCP guidelines.
There was one unique to a single book. Something about Russian Stout, saying that it was really a type of Barley Wine and not a Stout in the modern sense at all. Quite an impressive garbling of history. Mixing up the stories of Burton Ale and Russian Stout.
I'm pretty sure it was in "The Complete Joy of Homebrewing" by Charlie Papazian. But I'm not sure, because I looked at 8 or 10 books. Does anyone own a copy? If you do, could you send me the passage in question? It's not that long.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)