Let's Brew - 1970 Watneys Red Barrel

A couple of days ago someone asked me if I'd ever published a recipe of Watneys Red Barrel. I knew I'd written one and assumed that I'd posted it at some point. It turns out that I hadn't. So here you go.

I couldn’t miss this iconic beer. Even if it’s iconic for all the wrong reasons. Gaining a reputation as the classic terrible beer. But was it intrinsically awful?

The recipe doesn’t look much different to other Bitters of the day. It’s over 90% malt, which most of its rivals weren’t. And it’s only malt and sugar. There are no adjuncts. There was a little Dixon’s enzymic malt, which I’ve replaced with more base malt.

The hopping looks fine, too: Fuggles for bittering and Goldings for aroma. And enough to leave a decent degree of bitterness. Dry-hopped, too. Though that was with some form of hop concentrate.

Overall, it looks like a pretty decent beer. That’s before it was pasteurised. Derek Prentice told me that the Truman’s beers of this period always tasted stale because of the heavy pasteurisation. Perhaps that was also the case with Red Barrel. 

1970 Watneys Red Barrel
pale malt	7.50 lb	87.41%
crystal malt 60 L	0.33 lb	3.85%
No. 3 invert sugar	0.50 lb	5.83%
malt extract	0.25 lb	2.91%
Fuggles 105 min	1.75 oz
Goldings 15 min	0.75 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.125 oz
OG	1039.2
FG	1006
ABV	4.39
Apparent attenuation	84.69%
IBU	32
SRM	8
Mash at	158º F
Sparge at	175º F
Boil time	75 minutes
pitching temp	60º F
Yeast	WLP023 Burton Ale

Beers I miss (part three): Braník 12° Dark

I was lucky enough to visit Prague several times in the 1980s. When Czechoslovakia had the highest general beer quality of anywhere in the world. I looked hard, but was unable to find any bad beer. Though a couple of beers really stood out, both of them dark. U Fleku 14° and Braník 12° Dark.

As a hardened Mild drinker, Czechoslovakia's dark beers naturally drew my attention. Though they could be difficult to track down. Most pubs only sold a single type of beer. And that was usually a pale Lager. Either 10° or 12°. Only the occasional pub plumped for a dark option. They did exist, though. And I managed to hunt some of them down.

There was a small one-room place on one of the narrow lanes leading to Charles bridge. An unassuming pub, unlike the larger beer halls. And it was there that I got my first taste of the the wonderful Braník 12° Dark. Unike some of Czechoslovakia's dark Lagers it wasn't particularly sweet. Though it was packed with malt flavours, topped off with a reasonable level of hop bitterness. And very drinkable, as all good Czech beers are. It reminded me of a really good Dark Mild. Though somewhat stronger.

"Pijte Branícke Pivo!" is the title of a Hasek (the author of "The Good Soldier Svejk") story. The title comes from a slogan attached to brewery, meaning "Drink Branik beer!" The story itself is about a travelling down the Vltava by boat. Where they go past the brewery. For me, it was just another reason to drink Branik beer.

Prague's breweries were privatised in a particularly stupid way. In the communist period, breweries were grouped together on a regional basis. All the breweries in Prague were in one such group. Which was sold off as one entity. Weirdly, ending up in the hands of Bass Charrington. Who would want to own multiple breweries in one city? Inevitably, all but Staropramen, the largets, were closed.

Braník closed in 2006. Which was pretty annoying. Even more annoying when I recently discovered that the plant had been completely modernised just a little earlier.

How I would love to return to the mid-1980s and drink a delicious Braník 12° Dark served by air pressure in a pub with stinky toilets.

Cairnes Single Stout sugars 1914 - 1923

Moving on to the sugars, this is where Fullers and Cairnes really diverge. At the start of the war, Cairnes Single Stout had a little under 9% sugar, in the form of glucose. In 1916, that disappears in 1916, and for the rest of the war there’s no sugar at all. Sugar does reappear in 1920, but only in the form of caramel.

Things at Fullers were way, way more complicated. Over the war years, they employed seven different types of sugar. Though in any single brew there were never more than three.

The most popular sugars were glucose and something called Special Dark. I’m guessing that the latter was some sort of dark invert sugar. The quantity used was pretty high at the start and the end of the period covered by the table. I assume restrictions on the supply of sugar was responsible for the drastic reduction in the quantity during the war years.

At Fullers, the proportion of sugar in the grist was far higher than at Cairnes. Starting at over 25%. Even in the most difficult later war years, the amount never fell lower than 6.5%. And for most of the time was well over 10%.

Fullers also used way more caramel, varying between 3% and 7.5%. While at Cairnes it went from zero to a maximum of 2%.

While at Cairnes, even at the start of the war, sugar was less than 10% of the grist. From 1916 on, that was reduced to zero. And, other than caramel, no sugar was used after WW I. 

Cairnes Single Stout grists 1914 - 1923
Date	Year	pale malt	roast barley	flaked maize	glucose	caramel
1st Jan	1914	74.45%	6.50%	9.93%	8.82%	0.30%
1st Sep	1914	70.03%	7.74%	13.34%	8.89%
7th Jan	1915	71.37%	7.22%	12.69%	8.72%
2nd Oct	1916	79.62%	7.11%	13.27%
3rd May	1917	79.62%	7.11%	13.27%
7th Jun	1917	87.83%	6.84%	5.32%
1st Nov	1917	87.83%	6.84%	5.32%
3rd Jan	1918	86.70%	6.88%	6.42%
2nd May	1918	91.17%	6.74%	2.10%
3rd Oct	1918	93.33%	6.67%
3rd Feb	1919	93.33%	6.67%
2nd Oct	1919	85.42%	7.46%	7.12%
1st Jan	1920	89.05%	7.66%	3.30%
15th Apr	1920	87.33%	7.37%	5.29%
4th Oct	1920	81.76%	8.54%	9.28%		0.41%
3rd Oct	1921	95.33%	3.91%			0.76%
2nd Feb	1922	76.04%	10.18%	12.64%		1.13%
1st Jan	1923	89.36%	8.51%			2.13%
Sources:
Cairnes brewing records held at the Guinness archives, document numbers GDB/SUB/0022 and GDB/BR17/1257.

Fullers Porter sugars 1914 - 1925
Date	Year	glucose	invert	Special Dark	cane sugar	Dark Trivert	Porteris	caramel	total sugar
18th Nov	1914	11.34%		12.60%				3.30%	27.25%
17th Feb	1915	3.83%				9.56%		2.91%	16.30%
2nd Jun	1916						15.84%	6.15%	21.99%
4th Aug	1916			4.90%				3.85%	8.75%
12th Apr	1917	3.44%		6.89%				3.59%	13.92%
9th Aug	1917			1.25%	1.25%			3.92%	6.42%
5th Jan	1918			2.35%	2.35%			3.69%	8.39%
19th Apr	1918	8.59%		4.30%	8.59%			4.42%	25.90%
14th Jan	1919	5.69%	5.69%					7.57%	18.94%
10th Feb	1920				6.92%			4.89%	11.81%
16th Jun	1925			13.50%				4.80%	18.31%
Source:
Fullers brewing records held at the brewery.

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1935 Cairnes Single Stout

Moving forward a decade and a bit, there have been quite a few changes to Cairnes best-selling beer.  The most obvious being to the strength. Throughout the late 1920s and early 1930s the gravity was slowly whittled down 1º at a time. Interestingly, Double Stout remained at the same strength.

Another change is the addition of a relatively small amount of flaked maize. The other elements – roast barley and caramel – remain the same. Though the proportions have been fiddled with a little. There’s almost double the amount of roast barley, but less caramel. A little less than a quarter of the roast barley was added to the copper rather than the mash tun. Presumably to boost the colour.

The rate of attenuation is even lower than in 1923, just 65%. Leaving it just over 3% ABV. Even weaker than a standard English Mild of the period. And similar to the slowly fading away London Porters.

A single type of hop was employed, Oregon from the 1943 harvest. The combination of higher-alpha American hops and a higher hopping rate leave the calculated bitterness much higher than in 1923, at 55 IBU. 

1935 Cairnes Single Stout
pale malt	7.00 lb	78.87%
roast barley	1.25 lb	14.08%
flaked maize	0.50 lb	5.63%
caramel 2000 SRM	0.125 lb	1.41%
Cluster 120 mins	1.00 oz
Cluster 60 mins	0.75 oz
Cluster 30 mins	0.75 oz
OG	1037
FG	1013
ABV	3.18
Apparent attenuation	64.86%
IBU	51
SRM	33
Mash at	150º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	120 minutes
pitching temp	59.75º F
Yeast	Wyeast 1084 Irish ale

Cairnes Single Stout grists 1914 – 1923

A Cairnes Special Export Irish Stout label

Back to work, eh? Looking at all the the nutty bolty stuff.

I always try to have a purpose behind all my posts. Usually, that's a book. Either it's part of my research for a book, an excerpt or a recipe that's going into a book. Which is where the Irish material I'm going through throw up a problem. What book is it going in?

The most obvious - and simple - solution would be to start a book called "Ireland!". That would make a lot of sense. But I'm not going to do it. No, not just to be awkward or contrary. I don't feel that I know enough to start on it. My mind is full of unanswered questions about Irish brewing. Far too early to be confident about writing a book about it.

Perhaps I'll feel differently when I've finished going through all the brewing records I photographed earlier this year. Or maybe not. I only got about halfway through the Murphy's records. And I wouldn't mind looking at the ones of Beamish & Crawford, too.

Before I started writing my series of books on UK brewing, I'd already completed a huge amount of the research. All that was left, was filling in a few holes. Nothing that affected the overall picture. I'm far away from that situation when it comes to Ireland.

If you can remember my earlier question, stuff like this is being stored as a future update. In this case, to "Armistice!". Not totally sure where I'd put it. I'm sure I'll be able to find some way of hammering it in. Ireland probably deserves its own chapter, at least. With the restrictions being different there.

Now let’s look at what went into Cairnes Single Stout.  It’s not particularly complicated. Especially when we compare it with Fullers Porter.

Only three elements graced the mash tun: pale malt, roast barley and flaked maize. Which is pretty minimal. And the last of those three wasn’t omnipresent, disappearing for a while in 1918 and 1919. The quantity used having already been drastically reduced.

Interestingly, the percentage of malt increased quite a lot in 1917, coinciding with the reduction and then elimination of flaked maize. This was presumably a reaction to supply difficulties with maize as the German U-boat campaign hotted up.

The proportion of roast barley remained very constant at around 7%, other than for a bit of a wobble in the early 1920s, when it dropped as low as 4% and then shot up to 10%. Not sure why that was.

Looking at Fullers grists, there are some similar patterns. Though their recipes were way more complicated.

There were three malts, the classic London combination of pale, brown and black malt. Though the total amount is similar to at Cairnes, starting at around 70%, rising to a peak of over 90% in 1917.  This was presumably in response to restrictions in supply of maize and sugar.

Which brings us to flaked maize. It kicks off the war at a much lower level than at Cairnes, just a little under 3%. And, just as at Cairnes, it disappears in the later war years.

The other adjunct, oats, appears in tiny quantities, purely for legal purposes so that some of the Stout it was parti-gyled with could be sold as Oatmeal Stout. The larger quantities which appear in 1918 were in the form of oat husks. Not sure if they would get any extract out of those. But why else would they be used?

Cairnes Single Stout grists 1914 - 1923
Date	Year	pale malt	roast barley	flaked maize	glucose	caramel
1st Jan	1914	74.45%	6.50%	9.93%	8.82%	0.30%
1st Sep	1914	70.03%	7.74%	13.34%	8.89%
7th Jan	1915	71.37%	7.22%	12.69%	8.72%
2nd Oct	1916	79.62%	7.11%	13.27%
3rd May	1917	79.62%	7.11%	13.27%
7th Jun	1917	87.83%	6.84%	5.32%
1st Nov	1917	87.83%	6.84%	5.32%
3rd Jan	1918	86.70%	6.88%	6.42%
2nd May	1918	91.17%	6.74%	2.10%
3rd Oct	1918	93.33%	6.67%
3rd Feb	1919	93.33%	6.67%
2nd Oct	1919	85.42%	7.46%	7.12%
1st Jan	1920	89.05%	7.66%	3.30%
15th Apr	1920	87.33%	7.37%	5.29%
4th Oct	1920	81.76%	8.54%	9.28%		0.41%
3rd Oct	1921	95.33%	3.91%			0.76%
2nd Feb	1922	76.04%	10.18%	12.64%		1.13%
1st Jan	1923	89.36%	8.51%			2.13%
Sources:
Cairnes brewing records held at the Guinness archives, document numbers GDB/SUB/0022 and GDB/BR17/1257.

Fullers Porter grists 1914 - 1925
Date	Year	pale malt	brown malt	black malt	total malt	flaked maize	oats	total adjuncts
18th Nov	1914	53.88%	11.34%	3.78%	69.00%	2.84%	0.91%	3.75%
17th Feb	1915	60.25%	12.91%	6.46%	79.62%	3.59%	0.49%	4.08%
2nd Jun	1916	52.53%	12.51%	8.76%	73.80%	3.75%	0.46%	4.21%
4th Aug	1916	60.06%	14.71%	11.03%	85.80%	4.90%	0.55%	5.45%
12th Apr	1917	58.54%	13.77%	8.61%	80.92%	5.16%		5.16%
9th Aug	1917	67.38%	14.97%	11.23%	93.58%			0.00%
5th Jan	1918	61.66%	14.09%	10.57%	86.33%		5.29%	5.29%
19th Apr	1918	45.10%	11.28%	8.05%	64.44%		9.67%	9.67%
14th Jan	1919	59.73%	12.80%	8.53%	81.06%			0.00%
10th Feb	1920	59.66%	12.97%	9.08%	81.70%	6.48%		6.48%
16th Jun	1925	64.15%		8.44%	72.59%	8.44%	0.66%	9.10%
Source:
Fullers brewing records held at the brewery.

 

 

Beers I miss (part two) Shipstones Mild

Newark, where I grew up, was a strange town for beer. Despite its proximity to Nottingham, the beers from that city's three breweries didn't make much impact on Newark, other than four Home Ales pubs. Shipstones and Hardy & Hansons were nowhere to be seen. Neither in the town, nor in the villages around it.  

Newark was scuppered by its own illustrious brewing past, having been home to two substantial regional breweries: Holes and Warwick & Richardson. They had owned the vast majority of pubs in and around the town. And, in my youth, both had fallen into the hands of Courage. Holes still brewed, but only bright beer, no cask.

The beers of Home were incredibly reliable, if unspectacular. Good drinking beers, but nothing special. Shipstones, on the other hand, were really good. Or did I just think that because they were more effort to find? I don't think so.

Mablethorpe, where we had a caravan and spent most weekends in the summer, also had a couple of Home pubs. One, the Fulbeck was literally identical to the Cardinal's Hat, one of their pubs in Newark. But no Shipstones pub. For that, you had to travel to the metropolis of Skegness.

But what about the beer itself? From what I recall, it had more depth of flavour than Home Mild. More body and a little sweeter. Though that wasn't difficult as Home Mild, like their Bitter, had a high degree of attenuation.

Drinking Shipstones was a treat every time I visited Nottingham. And you didn't have to go far to sample it. The Queens Hotel was right opposite the station. A two-roomed traditional boozer which was later shamefully allowed to run down under Greenall Whitley ownership. It's now offices.

Speaking of which, after they bought Shipstone they couldn't help but fiddle with the Bitter, dialling back the bitterness. But they left the Mild alone, thankfully. Until, inevitably, they closed the brewery. Bastards.

Faulkner's theories on mashing

I'm still trying to get back into research mode after many weeks of mostly travelling. Which is why I'm continuing to regurgitate material from my mega-manuscript "Beer, Ale and Malt lliquor". With today something about mid-19th century mashing.

During the mashing process, starch is converted to dextrine and then into sugar (maltose). By controlling the temperature and mashing time it was possible to control the proportion of dextrine and sugar (maltose) in the wort. How much dextrine was desirable, depended on the type of beer being brewed. Beers with a full palate, such as Stouts, and beers intended to be aged or exported, larger amounts of dextrine were beneficial. Dextrine would not only add richness to the finished beer, but help to slow fermentation, something essential in a beer that would not be sold immediately. In beers intended to be fermented and sold quickly, relatively small amounts of dextrine were needed. (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Faulkner, 1876, page 63.)

Worts with large amounts of detrine did not clear as easily nor ferment as readily. (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, page 66.)

Faulkner made specific mention of the difficulties of getting Stout right: "Much difficulty is experienced by many brewers in obtaining full tasted stouts, the error in the generality of processes being the excessive employment of saccharines; beyond this, the brown malt of a porter grist, besides having a different latent heat, has had its original starch so modified by the torrefication that it has undergone, that if ordinary heats are employed you are certain to procure from it a large proportion of actual sugar; and thus, from one cause or another, your stouts are highly saccharine and yet very deficient in palate fulness." (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, pages 71-72.)

To get the required proportions of sugar (maltose) and dextrine, good quality malt, the right type of water and careful control of the mashing temperature were essential. (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, page 64.) Starch was converted into dextrine at one temperature and when the heat was increased dextrine was converted into sugar. By starting the mash at one temperature and then increasing it and leaving it to stand for a specific length of time, the conversion of dextrine into sugar could be controlled.  (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, page 65.) "You first of all use such a degree of heat as is capable of dissolving disatase, enabling it to convert starch into dextrine; and then you, by a simple addition of a further quantity of liquor at an increased temperature, enable the diastase to induce a further change - the conversion of dextrine into sugar." (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, page 65.) Presumably this is why part of the way through the mash water hotter than that initially used was introduced via the underlet. This technique can be found in the logs of Whitbread and Fullers. 

According to Faulkner, darker malts such as black and brown cooled mashing water less than paler malts and the same initial temperature could be obtained with a lower striking heat. (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, pages 67-68.) A thicker mash required a higher striking heat (pretty obvious, as there was less water to heat the malt) and gave a less clear wort. A thin mash produced a clearer wort, but a worse extract. (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, page 68.)

This was Faulkner's preferred method of mashing when using an external Steel's masher: "I am in favour of using two barrels of liquor per quarter when through a mixing machine at about 168º, which gives me an initial temperature of of 150º, rising to 156º or 158º before setting tap, and a tap gravity of 33º per barrel [og 1090º]. Now such a mash gives you, I believe, dextrine and sugar in equal proportions, with a satisfactory malt. If the malt is imperfectly malted, your dextrine is in greater proportion, since the diastase has had more work to effect, and you must adopt either some special kind of fermentation to allow of this dextrine being decomposed, or you may keep your wort for some time at a temperature of 170º after it runs from the mash tun, to allow of the diastase exerting its converting power on the excess of dextrine before the power of this converting agent is destroyed by the boiling temperature in the copper, or you may increase the proportion of sugar in your worts by the addition of saccharine." (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, page 68.)

As we'll see in the next chapter, "dextrine and sugar in equal proportions" is a bit wide of the mark. The ratio of maltose to dextrin was at best 3:1.

Faulkner's recommendation was somewhat different for breweries equipped with an internal rake masher: "With rake machinery you mash in with about one and a-half-barrels per quarter at some 162º, and you allow this mixture to stand some thre-quarters of an hour; and then a secondary quantity of liquor, at a much higher temperature than the first, is forced under the false bottom and mixed in by the machinery. . . . If a dextrine beer is required - and I had better remark that it never is wanted in a small brewery - you take a sufficient quantity of second flow liquor at a rate of half a barrel per quarter to bring up the heat of the mash to 156º or 158º, while you stand some hour and a quarter after final mixing is finished, and then, on setting tap, bring the wort to the boil as soon as possible, to destroy the converting agent, and prevent the proportion of constituents being altered. . . .If, on the other hand, a saccharine beer is wanted, your second flow of liquor is taken at such a heat that the intial temperature is raised to 165º or 170º . . . . Time is another important feature. The longer you allow the mash to stand at this elevated temperature the more sugar you will obtain; but you must, on no account, stand so long as to allow cooling down taking place." (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, pages 69-70.)

With the "saccharine beer" method, it was important to ensure all the starch had been converted before applying the higher temperature water, otherwise starch might end up in the wort. Iodine was used to test the wort for starch as it was run off. If it were present, the wort was kept at 170º for an hour in the copper before being boiled. (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, page 71.)

Faulkner recommended sparging in the same way, no matter which type of mash had been employed. The sparging water needed to be warm enough to convert any remaining dextrine in the cooler upper portion of the mash to maltose, but not so hot as to dissolve unconverted starch nor destroy the diastase. If the temperature fell too low, lactic acid was likely to form. To satisfy all these considerations, 176º F was the perfect temperature. (Source: "The Art of Brewing" by Frank Faulkner, 1876, pages 73-74.)

Now wasn't that fun? No, I suppose it wasn't. It does free up Saturday for me. Which is what really matters.

Let's Brew - 1923 Cairnes Strong Ale

Apologies about the interruption to my usual recipe posting regime. Blame all the travelling I've been doing recently. And all the travel posts I've been boring you with.

Yesterday I returned to going through the Cairnes brewing records. I'd forgotten just how much fun it is. (None at all. Other than satisfaction when it's finished.) I've now got to 1943. Lots more Cairnes recipes to come.

Parti-gyled with Bitter Ale was this beer. Which is what I’m calling it. It’s in the IP column, though on some pages it’s been scribbled out and replaced by an “S” or “No. 1”. Given that it’s parti-gyled with Bitter Ale, it is, effectively, a strong Pale Ale.

At 1055º, it looks very much like a London 8d per pint Bitter. One of the strongest draught beers in the capital.  I’m not sure it which format this beer was sold. It may have been either draught, bottled or both.

Not much new to say about the recipe, obviously. As it’s the same as the Bitter recipe. With just more of everything.

The hopping is pretty heavy, at 10 lbs per quarter (336 lbs) of malt. Leaving the (calculated) bitterness at an impressive 47 IBU. 

1923 Cairnes Strong Ale
pale malt	10.50 lb	86.35%
flaked maize	0.825 lb	6.78%
No. 2 invert sugar	0.825 lb	6.78%
caramel 1000 SRM	0.01 lb	0.08%
Fuggles 120 mins	1.50 oz
Fuggles 60 mins	1.25 oz
Goldings 30 mins	1.25 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.50 oz
OG	1055
FG	1014
ABV	5.42
Apparent attenuation	74.55%
IBU	47
SRM	7.5
Mash at	147.5º F
After underlet	156º F
Sparge at	168º F
Boil time	120 minutes
pitching temp	59.000º F
Yeast	Wyeast 1084 Irish ale

Humberside

“Dad, I thought we’d finished with this.”

“Don’t worry, Andrew. Still plenty of photos to go.”

“Oh no.”

“Starting with some photos of Uncle David’s kitchen.”

“Why the fuck did you photograph that?”

“So we’ll be able to look back in 20 years and see what it looked like.”

“You’ll be dead by then.”

“Thanks for that cheerful thought. What about these snaps of David’s garden?”

“Wow. These are amazing.”

“Really?”

“Amazingly boring. I know what his garden looks like”
“You can’t call his wildflower garden boring.”

“Very funny. That’s the empty plot next to his garden.”

“You got me.”

“You must find these interesting: Humberside airport.”

 

“Oh, yeah. Show me some more.”

“Don’t take the piss, Andrew.”

“Stop torturing me, then.”

“Don’t they bring back happy memories?”

“Of a car park? And check in desks? No, they don’t. Do you have any pictures of the lounge? They would bring back happy memories. Of free beer.”

“And whisky.”

“Yes. Of course, you were on whisky again.”

“I didn’t want to need a piss on the plane.”

“Yeah, right. Another one of your ‘reasons’.”

“Fuck off.”

“What else do I need to look at, Dad? Some boring photos from the plane?”

“Can do.”

“How’s that for boring, Andrew?”

“Pretty good, if I’m honest. Dead boring.”

“Thank you.”

“I wasn’t being nice.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Dad. And don’t say thank you again.”

“Thanks.”

“Grr.”