A day in Toronto

I rise at 8:30. Obviously, both kids are still sound asleep.

What do I do? Brush my teeth and pour myself an eye-opener. Then start writing this crap. I have to write up stuff on the go, otherwise I forget half of it. That's what happens when you're an old bastard like me.

What's our plan for the day? A diner breakfast to start with. Then a wander around town.

The air isn't quite as bad today. Though still far from clear. It's about a 15-minute walk to White Lily, a compact little diner. Which, fortunately for us, is licensed. I get myself an IPA, Andrew has a cider and Alexei a coffee.

It's exactly the sort of place I want to breakfast. Me and Alexei both go for the standard breakfast with bacon. Andrew orders no food. He isn't really a breakfast person. Unlike me and Alexei.

It's an excellent breakfast, with proper hash browns. Grated raw potato fried up, not one of those horrible triangle lumps.

On the way back, we drop by a supermarket. Where the kids get themselves some beer. While I buy some fruit and cheddar. Oh, and some milk. I need something to mix with the Jamesons.

We laze around for a while back in my room. And watch Cartoon Network.

“What's the Michelob Ultra like?”

"Watery." Andrew replies.

I take a sip.

“Fuck me that's almost completely tasteless.”

“It's not as bad as Bavaria Pils.”

“That's a very low bar.”

He switches to Molson.

“At least this has got some flavour."

At 16:00 we take a tram into the city centre. First, we have a wander to look at the old City Hall. Which is a lovely building. We then carry on to House of McGrath. A brewpub where I'm meeting the brewer, Jeffrey Kurkowski.

He comes to greet us as soon as we get through the door. And soon we have glasses of Kellerbier in our hands. It's very good. I chat away with Jeff, while drinking some of his beers.

I was really looking forward to the Pilsator, brewed to a recipe I sent Jeff. I so love me a Pilsator. And it’s several decades since I last drank one. This one is pretty good, with fairly decent hopping. Jeff has to fetch some from the tank, as it hasn't been packaged yet. 

Next, he gets me a Doppelbock, also straight from the fermenter. It’s also excellent. I have quick tour around the brewhouse, which is quite compact.

After a few rounds we get an Uber to Granite Brewery, another brewpub. It has quite a pub-like feel. Which is reinforced by the presence of cask beer. I get a Best Bitter, which is rather pleasant. And very easy to drink.

We order some food. Burgers for me and Alexei. Nothing for Andrew again as he isn't hungry. Now there’s a surprise.

We have a couple of pints, then it's closing time. We take an Uber back to our hotel and have a couple of drinks before it's time for me to go to bed. Though the kids stay up later.

In minutes I'm in the land of slumber.



House of McGrath
75 Victoria St, 
Toronto, ON M5C 2B1.
https://www.mcgraths.com/


Granite Brewery & Tied House
245 Eglinton Ave E, 
Toronto, ON M4P 3B7.
http://www.granitebrewery.ca/ 
 

Flying to Toronto

It's not an early start. Our flight isn't until 17:50. Leaving us plenty of time for last-minute packing.

Schiphol is much emptier than I feared. Twenty minutes sees us through all the annoying shit. Passport control is the emptiest I've seen it in years.

We drop by the duty free. The malt whisky is all stupid prices. But there's an offer of 2 litres of Jameson for 40 euros. That'll do.

The lounge is reasonably quiet, too. I have to pay for one of the kids.

“Make sure to eat and drink loads, Lexie. We want to get our money’s worth.”

“You always say that, Dad.”

“Doesn't make it any less valid.”

I know Andrew won't eat fuck all. He never does. Not sure how he survives on the tiny amount he eats.

I'm soon braced by a brace of whiskies. The kids go for boring old Pils.

Alexei gets stuck into the food. Which isn't bad today. I join in the food fun after warming up with a couple of whiskies. Even Andrew eats a couple of wraps. Just to prove me wrong.

We wander down to our gate after the "Go to gate" message comes up on the screen. We're very obedient.

We're further back in the plane than usual. The kids wanted the extra legroom of an emergency exit row. I sit behind them.

It's a relatively short flight. Just 7.5 hours. I've got used to much longer ones. Anything under 10 seems brief.

The food is . . . like KLM food. The main meal is just about edible. But too much rice and not enough chicken.

I watch some stuff on the in-board entertainment. Project Hail Mary, Guardians of the Galaxy, A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. It passes the time. Probably not something I would watch at home. Any of them.

As we approach Toronto, it looks pretty murky outside. Forest fires in Ontario. I hope that I'll be able to breathe.

All the entry formalities are soon achieved and we jump on an UP train into the city.  It’s a pretty decent service, going along at a good old whack. Taking us to Union Station, a very grand, neoclassical stone building.

From where we take a taxi. It’s not that far. But definitely too far to walk with luggage.

“It smells like barbecue here.” Alexei remarks. “That must be from the forest fires.”

The smoke is noticeable. But not choking. We seem to have missed the worst of it. Which now seems to have moved on to the USA.

Once checked into our hotel, the kids venture out to a convenience store for some snacks and soft drinks. While I get my flipflop fired up.

I've recorded the England World Cup semi-final on Ziggo so we can watch the game. We rig it up to play through the TV. So we don't all have to stare at the tiny laptop screen.

Of course, Argentina wins in the most annoying way possible. The bastards. I don't know if I'll bother watching the final, as I find both teams so irritating. Thankfully, there's enough Jamesons to take off the edge of annoyance.

It's around 6:30 Dutch time when I turn in. Almost getting up time back home. The whisky helps my body to work out that it’s sleepy time.
 

 

Montreal - a preview

A preview of mine rand the kids Canada trip. 

 These are my notes. The final text may differ. *

I have a look at the places that have been suggested to me. The name Dieu du Ciel cropped up a couple of times. It's not too far away. That'll do.

We set off about 14:30. We should catch it at a quiet time. The neighbourhood it's in seems pretty lively. Lots of shops, restaurants and bars.

Dieu du Ciel has quite a pubby feel. Reinforced by the presence of two handpulls. It's deserted inside and we have our choice of seats.

"Ooh, look!. They've got a cask Mild."

"You get excited so easily, Dad." Andrew retorts.

"I know. It's wonderful, isn't it?"

"No, not really."

I get a pint of Mild, obviously. It's really rather nice. The kids go for something Lagery. There's a really good variety of beers on offer. Two cask beers (the other is an Ordinary Bitter), two Stouts, Bavarian Helles and Amber, a Hefeweizen and, of curse, a couple of IPAs, including a non-sludge one.

 

* It certainly fucking will.
 

 

 

Beery suggestions for Canada

Next week I'm off to Canada with the kids. Two weeks of North American fun.

I've been rather busy and haven't done much in the way of research about what we're going to do when we're there. I say I've been busy. That's true. But I've also been a lazy git.

Any pubs and brewpubs you could recommend would be most appreciated. This is our schedule so you'll know where we'll be:

15th-18th July Toronto
19th-20th July Ottawa
21st-24th July Montreal
25th-27th July Quebec City

I've only been to Toronto before so I'm totally clueless about the other three cities.

If you fancy meeting up and buying me some beer, get in touch. I',m a sociable fellow and always enjoy meeting new people.

Hopefully, it's not going to be too warm in Canada. Andrew really doesn't cope with heat well. When we were in Japan a few years back, several times I thought he was going to drop dead. 

Canada here we come

I've just booked the summer trip with the kids. As you may have guessed from the title, we're headed to Canada. 

The main purpose is a family holiday for me and the lads. But I will be up for any money-making possibilities. Such as giving talks, brewing collaboration beers. Anything beer-related, really.

This may be your last chance to hear me talk in Canada. I'll be 70 later this year. Who knows how long my health will hold out. Intercontinental trips are becoming more tiring as I age. I won't continue with that shit forever. 

We'll be visiting four cities: 

Toronto         Wed 15th July to Sat 18th July
Ottawa           Sun 19th July to Mon 20th July
Montreal        Tue 21st July to Fri 24th July
Quebec City   Sat 25th July to Mon 27th July

Just get in touch if you'd like to stage an event with me. My rates are very reasonable, considering my age, experience and likelihood of dropping dead.

A few hours in Seattle (part 1)

It is an early start today. Our replacement bus is at 9:00. Based on getting the train a few years back, we’ll need to be at the station well before it leaves. I’m aiming for 7:00.

Which means we need to be up early. Like 6:00. I organised wake-up calls for both our rooms. I’m already up when mine comes in. Checking my emails one last time. Just in case.

I pick up the kids at 6:30. Surprisingly, Andrew is both conscious and dressed. And all packed up and ready to go.

There’s a taxi waiting outside. Which we take. It’s not far to the station. And it allows me to get rid of most of my remaining Canadian dollars.

“What have you been doing in Vancouver?”

“Just a holiday.”

“Seeing the sights?”

“Yes.”

“Which ones?”

“The Steam Clock. And other stuff.” Thinking back, other than breweries and restaurants, that’s all we’ve seen.

“Stanley Park?”

“Yes.”

We did plan that. Just got nowhere near visiting. Not a total lie, then. I’m weirdly embarrassed to tell him 95% of our time in Vancouver has been spent drinking.  That’s waking, time, obviously.

Our driver rattles off a few more tourist sites and, polite Englishman that I am, I pretend we visited some. Luckily, it’s not a long drive. Shorter than my lying capacity.

Pacific Central Station is very quiet. Except for where the buses depart. There, a few confused people are milling around. Great.

I look for something about the Amtrak bus replacement. And eventually spot, in a weird spot, a tiny poster – smaller than A4 – that gives a few details. Very few details. Evidently it departs from bay 8 or 9. And that’s about all it says. Very informative.

Even though quite a few other buses are leaving, it’s not that busy. Just a few small clumps of people nervously checking their phones. The joys of bus travel. So great, that I usually avoid it, lest my heart explode in ecstasy. Or make my arse sore and my neck ache. It’s one of those two I’m avoiding. You decide which.

This should be an Amtrak rail service. But the trains aren’t running. I think because of a staff shortage. Annoyingly, they’re supposed to start running again in a few weeks.

Last time we had to check in and do US immigration and customs before boarding the train. That doesn’t seem to apply. Meaning we turned up way earlier than we needed to.

Oh, silly me! I get it. We’re going through the road crossing. All the checks will be at the border. Just like in Tijuana. I wonder how long that will take?

It’s going to be a long journey today. We’ve an early evening flight back to Amsterdam. By the time we get home, we’ll have been travelling for the best part of a day.

I wasn’t able to check in online because I wasn’t able to provide documents that show I have the right to enter Holland. Thanks, Brexit. I suppose I’ll have to show them my Dutch passport at check in.

Bus stations are always so chaotic. Always. Way more confusing than railway stations. Maybe that’s just me. You’re never quite sure from which bay a bus will leave. It’s very unsettling.

I make a quick visit to the bogs before we board. They’re very impressive for free toilets in a station. Better than many airport toilets.

I get back to the kids just before boarding starts. At 8:10 rather than the scheduled 8:30. The bus is almost full. But, luckily, I have an empty seat next to me. Where I park the rucksack containing my laptop. I wasn’t going to have that thrown into the hold.

We leave almost 30 minutes early, Brilliant! My big fear is the bus being delayed and having to rush to get to Seattle airport in time. In time for a decent length of time in the lounge, I mean.

Over four and a half hours might seem a lot. But I’m a paranoid old twat. I’m not taking any chances.

The road follows pretty much the same route as the railway line. Quite often you can see the tracks. Luckily, the roads aren’t too crowded. I was afraid we might get stuck in traffic.

It takes around an hour to get to the border. Where we hang around for a while before disembarking and joining the immigration queue.

“This is fun, kids.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“At least it isn’t as bad as at Schiphol.”

“That’s not saying much. Like Middlesbrough is prettier than Scunthorpe.”

“Have you been to either of those towns, Andrew?”

“I don’t need to. I’ve seen enough video. And you’re always going on about how shit Middlesbrough is.”

“It is.”

“And how often have you been there?”

“A few times.”

“Could you be more precise.”

“Twice. Maybe. It could have been once.”

“Mr. First-Hand expert, then?”

“Fuck off. I still know it’s a shithole. That’s what Dave said. And he came from there. He said the only worthwhile part of the city was Ayresome Park, the football ground.”

Lexxie jumps in. “That’s a bit extreme.”

“He really hated his hometown, Dave.”

“Who’s Dave.”

“A bloke who lived in 96 Brudenell Road. Worked as a town planner in Peterlee for a couple of years and had some sort of breakdown. He quit his job and moved to Leeds, where I think he’d studied. I don’t know if he was studying or . . .”

“I just asked who he was. Not for a biography.”

It takes a while. But once we get to the immigration officer, we’re done in a couple of minutes. With no need for fingerprints, just a photo.

When we\re through, I join the queue for the two toilets. The kids start getting anxious about missing the bus.

“Come on, Dad. You can have a piss on the bus.”

“I prefer a proper toilet to pissing my kecks.”

“Wimp. There’s a bog on the bus.”

“I’m old. I deserve some luxury.”

“Don’t come with that ‘I’m old’ shit again. Just shut up.”

There’s another passenger queueing behind me. The bus isn’t going without me.

We’ve spent over an hour at the border. The driver tells us we’ll get to Seattle in around 1 hour 45 minutes. Which would be 15 minutes ahead of schedule. I hope that’s true.

 

 

Lazy Vancouver

The kids aren’t up very early. Or up for much today. That’s fine by me. I’m happy to go along with anything the kids want. Within reason. And as long as it doesn’t include too much personal effort.

“What about Tim Horton’s?” That’s Lexxie’s breakfast suggestion again. Why not? It’s our last chance.

Lexxie tells me that we’re been to one before. Can’t say that I can remember it.

What’s that strange noise? I ask myself as I we’re on our way. It’s the sound of the bloke in front of us dragging his one foot. Of course, he’s headed for Tim Hortons, too.

Luckily, Lexxie is here to guide me through the ordering screen. He’s clearly done this sort of thing before. I go for a breakfast biscuit. With all the breakfast goodness of bacon, egg, sausage and cheese. And coffee. Lexxie gets a cream cheese bagel. And a cookie and coffee.

We eat them back in the room. Where Andrew is still fairly comatose. Prodding him in the ribs a few times has little effect.

“Time to go wakey wakey, Andrew.”

“Fuck off, Dad. And stop talking shit.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Shut up, Dad.”

May as well get on with watching the Weather Channel. The best bits are the adverts. Especially those for prescription medicines. I love the disclaimers at the end, when they rattle through potentially crippling, or even fatal, side effects.

Andrew finally rises. And grabs himself a Molson from the fridge.

“Breakfast of champions, eh?”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Dad?”

Andrew isn’t really a morning person. Or an early afternoon one. It’s usually early evening before he becomes fully human.

You may have noticed that we haven’t done much touristy stuff in Vancouver. Just glanced at the Steam Clock. Today, we’ll be doing even less. As in: none at all.

It was the kids’ decision. They fancy a quiet day, just close to the hotel. I’m delighted to let them decide when their choice involves fuck all effort for me.

“There’s a brewpub not far away, Dad. We can walk there.”

“That’s it decided, then.”

I’ve got them well trained. Andrew would never turn down a beer, mind.

It’s around a 15-minute walk. On the way we pass by a small park, where some sort of event is going on. With, in the background, another amazing view.

We’re at first confused as to where the entrance is.

“It says ‘Wait here to be seated’ over there, Dad.” Andrew says as I try to walk in the wrong door. The smartarse.

33 Acres is the brewpub name. Which is a bit odd from somewhere in the middle of a metropolis.

The patio is full so we’re seated inside. It’s quite small. And looks more like a café than a brewery. There doesn’t seem to be very much beer drinking going on.

Just for a change, I order an IPA.

33 Acres of Nirvana India Pale Ale, 7% ABV
Billed as hazy, but not too sludgy. It’s served in a stumpy little glass. Not seen that shape before. It has that Izal tang. There must be one of those trendy modern hops in there. It really isn’t bitter at all, in true sludge style. OK. If you like that type of thing.

It’s mostly filled with the young and the beautiful. A strange atmosphere for a brewpub.

“How’s the Pilsener, Andrew?”

“Really quite decent for a North American one. Some of the supposed German-style Pilseners are nothing like the real thing.”

Praise indeed, from Andrew.

“I got a bit hot on the way over.” Andrew says.

“Anything above freezing warms you up. It was a bit of a death march, mind.”

The kids are now on the cider. It’s as sludgy as my sludge IPA.

“That’s OK with cider. It’s not supposed to be clear.”

Mmm. That’s the lovely smell of mashing. Unless they have a very clever fake smell machine, they definitely brew here.

I get a second sludge IPA. And a third. At least the kids do. My ankle still feels a bit dodgy. At least that’s what I tell them. Why should I fetch the beers? I am paying for them, after all. And my ankle isn’t 100%.

“Where do we want to eat, kids? You start, Lexxie.”

“East or South Asian.”

“Asian is good for me, too.” Andrew agrees. Not that he’ll eat much of it.

“I’m not going to argue. East Asian for me.”

That was easy.

“This is the classic shit hippy song – Almost Cut my Hair.”

Is it a Graham Nash or a Crosby song? They were both rubbish. In Crosby Stills, Nash & Young, Neil Young had 60% of the talent, Steve Stills 30%, Crosby and Nash 10% combined. Tops.

Time for a different beer.

33 Acres of Euphoria Belgian Tripel, 9.2% ABV
Bye, bye sludge. Hello alcoholy goodness. It comes in what looks like a water glass. Not what I expected at all. Doesn’t taste much like a Tripel.

For comparison purposes, the kids have ordered a pretzel. Much more like a real one than yesterday’s. They do seem to have Natronlauge, as the exterior looks spot on.

The kids are really getting into the cider. Really, really getting into it.

This place is growing on me. Quite calm. Time to get the bill.

$200 Canadian? I’m feeling less calm now. I suppose the kids knocked back quite a few. Beers and ciders. Still seems steep.

We’ve agreed Asian. I suggest picking up some stuff from the Dim Sum place close to the hotel. The kids aren’t in a mood to argue. And decide to pick up some other stuff from Tim Horton’s.

A couple of hours later, we’re feeling peckish again.

“Do you fancy some Japanese food, kids?”

“Yes, Dad.” Of course, Lexxie does.

I’m hungry enough to go and fetch it myself. Even with my bad ankle. Though it is only about 100 metres. I get much the same stuff as me and Lexxie ate the other night: sushi, tempura, gyozas.

The rest of the evening is spent watching TV while nibbling on the food and sipping whisky. Which we need to get finished off tonight. The kids slowly grind their way through the Molson cans.

I boogie on down into sleep at the Canadian Club. 

Tim Hortons
865 W Broadway,
Vancouver,
BC V5Z 1J9.
https://www.timhortons.ca


33 Acres Brewing Company
15 W 8th Ave,
Vancouver,
BC V5Y 1M8.
https://33acresbrewing.com/


Shanghai Lu Restaurant
705 W Broadway,
Vancouver,
BC V5Z 1G8.
https://www.shanghailurestaurant.ca/


Kisokoma Japanese Restaurant
805 W Broadway #112,
Vancouver,
BC V5Z 1K1.
http://kisokoma.com/

Vancouver central (part 2)

A couple of things on today’s to do list. The first takes us to the second. The Canada Line of the Skytrain.

“Why’s it called Skytrain if it’s underground, Andrew?”

“No idea.”

Buying tickets is pretty easy. Everything works pretty well. But it’s a shock arriving on the platform. It’s tiny.

“Why’s it so small?” I ask my resident rail expert.

“They built it on the cheap.” Andrew replies.

“Won’t it cost a fortune to upgrade?”

“Obviously. While Amsterdam future-proofed the Noord-Zuid line by making the platforms longer than current trains.”

We get off at the terminus, Waterfront station. We’re headed for the steam clock. Not sure why, other than it sounds slightly intriguing. And has a cool name.

This is an older part of town.

“Oh, look! A brewery.” I exclaim, pointing at Steamworks. “I brewed a beer there, once.”

Quite a few people are standing around the clock. Which isn’t doing much, other than whirring. I guess all the action with the whistles starts on the hour. It’s 16:42. Bugger waiting almost 20 minutes.

“Back to the brewery?”

They don’t need asking twice. The place is massive, we’re led through several rooms before being deposited in the basement, with the brewing equipment and the kitchen. But through the window there’s an amazing view of the bay and the wooded hills beyond it.

There’s lucky. It’s happy hour here, too. But we don’t get beer.

“Fancy a cocktail pitcher, kids?”

“Why not?”

Coconut mojito is our choice. Quite nice it is, too. Not too sweet.

Andrew ordered a Pilsner and can’t share the pitcher yet. As, according to our waitress, you’re only allowed one alcoholic drink at a time in British Columbia. I’ve come across rules like that before. So many random, crazy rules connected to alcohol.

We order a second pitcher.

We’re a bit hungry. Not enough for a full meal. Onion rings and chicken wings will do. Spicy wings.

They’re quite hot, the wings, but not dead hot.”

“I’ve had much hotter.” Andrew states.

“Well, you did eat that bit of a Carolina Reaper.”

“True. But I meant actual food.”

We order a third pitcher.

We don’t stay too late. It’s almost the end of happy hour.

“Why is it still called British Columbia?” Lexxie asks. “Shouldn’t it be Canadian Columbia now?”

He has a point. “No idea. Email Mr. Trudeau and ask.”

On our way to the station, we drop into a car park to photograph the view of harbour and hillsides. There’s a fence in the way. But just by standing on a little bump, Lexxie can see over it. How many times has he been asked how tall he is? It must be at least a dozen.

A few chavs are hanging around the car park. For the view? I don’t think so. We don’t wait to find out. Back to the mini-metro for our ride home. It’s only a handful of stops. Then a walk of a couple of hundred metres. A doddle, really. Without any fucking hills.

Back at the hotel, the kids nip to the liquor store. And get some more beer. And a second bottle of Canadian Club. Plastic bottle, this time. What a party we have.

“What do you mean, Dad? A can of Molson and a convenience store sandwich isn’t much of a party.”

“You’re so negative, Lexxie.”

“Fuck off with that negative shit.”

“There’s whisky as well.”

“That doesn’t make it much more of a party.”

“It does for me.”

“Because you’re a drunk.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t start that nonsense again.”

Argument won, I retire to my own room.

Where I Canadian club myself into dreamland.



Steamworks Brewpub
375 Water St,
Vancouver,
BC V6B 1B8.
https://steamworks.com/brew-pub/

Oh, Canada

No huge rush to get up. Our flight is at 12:55. Though we want to take proper advantage of our lounge time. A couple of hours should do.

We have business class tickets. When I was booking, I noticed they didn’t cost that much more and jokily suggested buying them to Dolores. To my surprise, she agreed. Thought it might be a good experience for the kids.

Air Canada doesn’t have its own lounge. They use United’s. It’s pretty small. But they have bourbon and bits and bobs of food. We all tuck in. Even Andrew. I worry that beer is his only source of calories. Sorry, I was forgetting whiskey. All in liquid form, anyway.

I have a window seat and get a good view of the US rolling slowly below. Quite varied. Sometimes dusty brown. Others, the lush green of innumerable deeply wooded islands.

The kids are really enjoying the extra legroom.

“For once, I’ve more than enough space.” Lexxie says.

“It’s you own fault for being over 2 metres tall.”

“I think you’ll find it’s you and Mum who are to blame for that.”

“I’ll have another whiskey.”

“That’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?”

“You say that as if it’s some sort of problem.”

“Right. You’re in denial, Dad.”

“Thanks.”

“Let’s not go through this again.”

Immigration is no problem Once I’ve shown them the photo of that stupid form thing we had to fill in. How I love modern travelling.

Our bags, again, beat us to the carousel. Soon we’re in our hotel. Our, frankly, ludicrously expensive hotel. At least the view isn’t bad. Looking onto the harbour and the mountains beyond. As well as part of the multi-fingered downtown high-rise forest.

“Are you hungry, kids?”

“Yes.”

“Not really.”

“That averages out to a probably.”

“Don’t be stupid, Dad. You can’t average it out, and if you did, it would be possibly. Let’s just you and me go.” Lexxie is very logical.

“Where?”

“There’s a Japanese place just down the street.”

That’ll do for me. Nothing too heavy and lots of little bits. Just what I feel like.

And that’s what we get. Sushi, tempura, spring rolls, gyozas. All the usual stuff. It’s pretty good. Dependable stuff, Japanese food.

“This is very similar to what we eat in Kokusai, Lexie.”

“It’s called Japanese food.”

“I know that. I mean the specific bits of Japanese food we’re eating.”

“Chill out, Dad. Don’t overthink everything.”

“Me? Overthink?”

“Just shut up and eat, Dad.”

There aren’t many other customers. It is pretty early, mind. Just after 6 PM. Two teenage girls speaking Spanish with someone who I assume is their grandmother. Every now and again the girls lapse into English when talking to each other. Now that’s interesting. Their Spanish sounded perfect to me. Clearly bilingual, just like my kids.

Fed, we head for the 7 11. It’s down a fucking steep hill, Lexxie and I discover. Magic. And it doesn’t sell beer. At least the sandwich selection is different from the US branches.

I limp far behind Lexxie up the monster hill. It’s a double whammy of ankle and lungs. At least he’s considerate enough to wait for me at the summit of Everest.

The view from the hotel is even better now. We can see the downtown skyline and part of the harbour, its water studded with cargo ships. It’s spectacular as the sun sets. And captivating after dark, as car lights dance across the bridge.

Andrew has to do without any beer. Poor thing. He could have had some, but he couldn’t. be arsed to walk to the liquor store.

“You couldn’t have wanted it that much, then. I made it up that fucking hill from the 7 11 on my damaged ankle.” (Definitely not broken, in case you’re interested.)

“Shut up, Dad. I can do without your gloating. And self-pity.”

“Are you hungry yet?” As he seems a bit grumpy, I change the subject.

“A bit.”

No change there, then.

“What did you say, Dad?”

“He’s saying out loud what he’s thinking again, Andrew.”

“Am I?”

“Yes, Dad. You do it all the time.”

“You’ve never mentioned that before.”

“Yes, I have. Several times.”

No, you haven’t you lying little fucker.

“You’re doing it again. And yes, I did.”

We watch some TV and later nibble on some sandwiches. Luckily, I’ve still got some whiskey to chase down the food.

I realise we haven’t visited a pub or brewery today. Now there’s a record. I can’t imagine we’ll hold out very long tomorrow. The joy of having a check-in bag.

Mr. Knacked is the only one accompanying me on my route to sleepland.



Kisokoma Japanese Restaurant
805 W Broadway #112,
Vancouver,
BC V5Z 1K1.
http://kisokoma.com/

Canadian IPA

Have you spotted my current theme yet? Obviously, it's Canada. Only joking. IPA. 

For purely selfish reasons. I need to assemble a talk on the history of IPA and was a bit sketchy about the history in some periods. I won't claim to be 100% certain about the early years. With no brewing records from before the 1830s and no chemical analyses to work with, it's mostly inference and guesswork. Not how I usually work. Which is why I mostly limit myself to 1800 onwards.

A slight digression there. Away from the topic of this post: Canadian IPA in the late 19th century. I'd forgotten that I had these. It was only when I started going through my analyses of IPAs that I spotted them. That's the problem with having so much information. You can't remember all of it.

What strikes me is the similarity to domestic UK IPA. (Only because I was looking at those yesterday could I remember.). The Canadian versions average out a little stronger, by 3º in gravity and 0.34% ABV. While the rate of attenuation was a little lower, but still very high. 

Still, a striking similarity between the two sets, despite being brewed 50 years apart.

Not done with IPA, yet. Oh no, not by a long way.

Canadian IPA
Year	Brewer	Town	Beer	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation
1897	Copland Brewing	Toronto	IPA	1059.8	1012.4	6.18	79.26%
1897	Copland Brewing	Toronto	IPA	1058.7	1007	6.78	88.07%
1897	Dawes & Co.	Lachine, P.Q.	IPA	1057.3	1002.1	7.27	96.34%
1897	Eaton Bros.	Owen Sound	IPA	1055.4	1006	6.47	89.17%
1897	Geo Sleeman	Guelph, Ont.	IPA	1051.8	1006.8	5.88	86.87%
1897	J. McCarthy, Son	Prescott, Ontario	IPA	1061.3	1009.5	6.78	84.50%
1897	Labatt	London, Ontario	IPA	1049.8	1014	4.64	71.89%
1897	S. Jones	St. John, N.B.	IPA	1056.4	1007.8	6.36	86.17%
1897	W. Dow & Co.	Montreal	IPA	1066.4	1008	7.67	87.95%
	Average			1057.4	1008.2	6.45	85.58%
Source:
"Report, returns and statistics of the inland revenues of the Dominion of Canada", By Canada. Dept. of Inland Revenue, 1898, pages 34-49

Late 19th-century IPA

Where to go from early 19th-century IPA? Late 19th-century, surely. Examples plucked, once again, from brewing records. That most useful of resources. To increase the fun, a Canadian brewery us represented, in the form of Labatt.

The Whitbread beer is an outlier, a beer, us the name implies brewed under contract, presumably for export. They didn't brew an IPA for the domestic market for another three decades. Which probably explains why the hopping is so much heavier than in the other examples.

Talking of hopping, it's mostly 50%, or less, in terms of lbs per quarter of that in the early 19th-century IPAs..

On the whole, they look pretty similar to the 1840s analyses. The average OG is a little higher, balanced out by a much lower degree of attenuation. With the proviso that these are racking gravities and not the eventual FG.

Compared to the couple of brewing records from the early part of the century, the gravity is quite a bit lower - 6.6º. Though the earlier sample size is low.

Late 19th-century IPA
Year	Brewer	Beer	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	lbs hops/ qtr	hops lb/brl
1867	Whitbread	Contract	1069.5	1023.5	6.08	66.14%	20.13	6.97
1868	Younger, Wm.	XXP (home trade)	1052	1016	4.76	69.23%	8.00	2.27
1869	Younger, Wm.	XXP (home trade)	1053	1014	5.16	73.58%	11.67	2.39
1870	Medway	IPA	1066.5				16.00	4.71
1885	Thomas Usher	IP	1047	1013	4.50	72.34%	8.00	1.61
1887	Fullers	IPA	1059.6	1018.0	5.50	69.77%	12.38	3.28
1888	Thomas Usher	IP	1046	1010	4.76	78.26%	10.00	2.45
1893	Labatt	EIP	1055.4	1012.5	5.68	77.50%	10.19	2.26
1894	Labatt	EIP	1055.4	1011.1	5.86	80.00%	9.12	2.01
1894	Thomas Usher	IP	1044	1014	3.97	68.18%	8.00	1.83
1897	Fullers	IPA	1056.0	1016.6	5.20	70.30%	13.39	3.34
1898	Fullers	IPA	1056.5	1016.9	5.24	70.10%	13.39	3.27
1898	Fullers	IPA Stock	1057.9	1017.7	5.31	69.38%	13.39	3.48
1898	Rose	IPA	1060.0				9.60
	Average:		1055.6	1015.3	5.17	72.06%	11.66	3.07
Sources:
Whitbread brewing record held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/01/031.
William Younger brewing record held at the Scottish Brewing Archive, document number WY/6/1/2/21.
Medway brewing record in my possession.
Thomas Usher brewing records held at the Scottish Brewing Archive, document numbers TU/6/1/1 and TU/6/1/2.
Fullers brewing record held at the brewery.
Labatt brewing record, document number A08-054-1156.

 

 

 

 

Canadian Lagers in 1909

I couldn’t leave these analyses unused. If only for my own peace of mind.

Plus there haven’t been that many tables here of late. Or much about Lager. Seems like several birds are being taken out by a single missile.

I was most intrigued by two beers called Salvador. Especially as both have very modest gravities, far away from Doppelbock levels. Evidently one of the brewers at Reinhardt had worked at Zacherl, which does imply that there was some connection between Salvador and Salvator. I’d love to know what colour Salvador was.

Because if it wasn’t dark, then it would have bugger all in common with the Salvator brewed in Munich. Some of those have an OG double that of the weaker Salvador. And while the average attenuation for the Munich beers is under 60%, both the Canadian beers are over 70%.

Which leaves me wondering: was Salvador originally similar to Salvator but changed over the years? Or was it always very different, basically using the name and little else from the original? We may never know.

Having said that, many of the OG’s look low compared to European Lagers. Pilsners were usually in the range 1048-1050º, Lagerbier over 1050º and Export over 1055º. About the only exception were the Schenkbiers sold in Austria-Hungary which were in the low 1040º’s. Virtually none of the Canadian Lagers is over 1050º. A couple that are on the stronger side – the two called Budweiser – I suspect were really imported Ameriucan beers.

I saw a similar pattern with Canadian Ales, which, while stronger than the Lagers, were also mostly weaker than their British equivalents. Was this generally the rule, I wonder, that Canadian beers were slightly weaker than elsewhere? Let me know if you have the answer.

Canadian Lagers in 1909
Brewer	Town	Beer	Style	Price	size	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation
Reinhardt & Co.	Toronto	Bavarian	Dunkles	15c	bottle	1048.1	1011	5.39	77.13%
Beauport Brewing Co.	Quebec	Lager Beer	Lager	10c	bottle	1036.2	1003.3	4.63	90.88%
The Korman Brewery, Ltd.	Toronto	Perfecto	Lager	15c	bottle	1037	1005.1	4.56	86.22%
Bajus Brewery		Lager Beer	Lager	15c	bottle	1037.3	1010	3.90	73.19%
O. Archambault	Iberville	Salvador	Lager	13.3c	bottle	1038.4	1011.4	3.83	70.31%
Holliday		East Kent Lager	Lager	8.33c	bottle	1039.3	1009.4	4.27	76.08%
Carling Brewing & Malting	London, Ont.	Lager Beer	Lager	15c	bottle	1040	1011.4	4.05	71.50%
Victoria Phoenix Brewing Co.	Victoria, BC	Lager Beer	Lager	15c	quart	1040.7	1012.7	4.05	68.80%
O'Keefe's Ltd.	Toronto	Lager Beer	Lager	15c	bottle	1041.6	1009.8	4.49	76.44%
Cosgrove Brewing Co.	Toronto	Lager Beer	Lager	10c	bottle	1041.8	1015.7	3.76	62.44%
The Capital Brewing & Malting Co.	Ottawa	Capital Ale	Lager	5.83c	pint	1042	1009.6	4.71	77.14%
C.H. Harther	Hamilton	Lager Beer	Lager	11c	bottle	1042.7	1013.1	4.20	69.32%
Carling Brewing & Malting	London, Ont.	Lager Beer	Lager	11.67c	bottle	1042.7	1014.6	4.05	65.81%
L. Chapot Fils & Cie.	Montreal	Blue Ribbon	Lager	20c	bottle	1043.1	1017.5	3.69	59.40%
Carling Brewing & Malting	Ottawa	Canada Club	Lager	10c	pint	1043.1	1014.7	4.05	65.89%
Strathcona Brewing & Malting Co.	Strathcona	Lager Beer	Lager	16.67c	quart	1043.4	1011	4.56	74.65%
Union Brewing Ltd.	Montreal	Lager Beer	Lager	11.33c	bottle	1043.9	1012.6	4.42	71.30%
Kuntz & Co.	Waterloo	Lager Beer	Lager	11.67c	bottle	1043.9	1016.4	3.90	62.64%
Victoria Phoenix Brewing Co.	Victoria, BC	Lager Beer	Lager	16.67c	quart	1044.5	1011.5	4.63	74.16%
Reinhardt & Co.	Toronto	Salvador	Lager	10c	bottle	1044.9	1009	5.00	79.96%
Blackwood Ltd.	Winnipeg	Lager Beer	Lager		pint	1044.9	1015	4.27	66.59%
Lethbridge Brewing & Malting Co.	Lethbridge	Lager Beer	Lager	16.67c	quart	1044.9	1016.1	4.12	64.14%
The Moosejaw Brewing & Malting Co., Ltd.	Winnipeg	Lager Beer	Lager		pint	1045.1	1018	3.90	60.09%
James Ready, Ltd	Fairville, St. John N.B.	Lager Beer	Lager	13.3c	bottle	1045.2	1010.1	4.93	77.65%
Golden West Brewing Co.	Calgary	Lager Beer	Lager	16.67c	quart	1045.4	1013.7	4.49	69.82%
McDonagh & Shea	Winnipeg	Lager Beer	Lager		pint	1045.5	1014.4	4.42	68.35%
Reinhardt & Co.	Toronto	Lager Beer	Lager	15c	bottle	1046.3	1007.8	5.39	83.15%
Calgary Brewing & Malting Co.	Calgary	Lager Beer	Lager	16.67c	quart	1046.6	1015.7	4.34	66.31%
Canadian Breweries Ltd	Montreal	Ekerts	Lager	8.33c	bottle	1046.8	1010.1	4.63	78.42%
Kuntz & Co.	Waterloo	Lager Beer	Lager	10c	bottle	1046.8	1016.1	4.27	65.60%
George Patry	Quebec	Lager Beer	Lager	15c	bottle	1047.4	1019.2	4.12	59.49%
H. Kuntz	Hamilton	Lager Beer	Lager	10.67c	bottle	1047.6	1017.2	4.34	63.87%
The Union Brewery Ltd.	Montreal	Kuntz	Lager	20c	bottle	1047.9	1015.8	4.49	67.01%
G.E. Amyot	Quebec	B.B.	Lager	13.3c	bottle	1048	1012.4	5.00	74.17%
The Hamilton Brewing Association, Ltd.	Hamilton	Regal	Lager	20c	bottle	1048.4	1015.4	4.63	68.18%
Edmonton Brewing & Malting Co.	Edmonton	Lager Beer	Lager	16.67c	quart	1048.4	1015.1	4.71	68.80%
G.E. Amyot	Quebec	Lager Beer	Lager	10c	bottle	1050	1011.5	5.39	77.00%
George Patry	Quebec	Lager Beer	Lager	15c	bottle	1051.2	1013.3	5.32	74.02%
G.E. Amyot	Quebec	Lager Beer	Lager	11.67c	bottle	1051.7	1012	5.55	76.79%
Vancouver Breweries. Ltd.	Vancouver	Cascade	Lager	13.33c	quart	1052.2	1016.2	5.00	68.97%
Vancouver Breweries. Ltd.	Vancouver	Cascade	Lager	16.67c	quart	1055	1015.3	5.55	72.18%
Average						1044.8	1013.0	4.49	71.17%
O'Keefe's Ltd.	Toronto	Pilsener	Pilsner	10c	pint	1039.6	1008.6	4.42	78.28%
O'Keefe's Ltd.	Toronto	Pilsener	Pilsner	15c	bottle	1041	1007.5	4.85	81.71%
The National Breweries, Ltd.	Montreal	Ekers Bohemian	Pilsner	8.33c	bottle	1043.4	1012.5	4.42	71.20%
L. Chapot Fils & Cie.	Montreal	Budweiser	Pilsner	25c	bottle	1049.8	1015.3	4.85	69.28%
Copeland Brewing Co., Ltd.	Toronto	Budweiser	Pilsner	15c	bottle	1050.4	1012.4	5.24	75.40%
Average						1044.8	1011.3	4.76	75.17%
Reinhardt & Sons	Montreal	Vienna	Vienna Lager	10c	bottle	1037.1	1006.5	4.71	82.48%
Source:
"Ale and lager beer" by McGill, A. (Anthony), 1910, pages 4 - 19.

Munich Salvator 1869 - 1914
Year	Brewer	Beer	Style	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation
1869	Zacherl	Salvator	Bock	1065.7	1022	5.63	66.51%
1890	Hackerbräu	Salvator	Bock	1071.6	1030.3	5.32	57.68%
1890	Münchener Salvator	Bock	Bock	1073.2	1028	5.80	61.72%
1890	Zacherlbräu	Salvator	Bock	1074.7	1033.9	5.25	54.63%
1890	Salvatorbräu	Salvator	Bock	1075.9	1034.2	5.37	54.94%
1890	Spatenbräu	Salvator	Bock	1076.7	1040.6	4.62	47.05%
1898	Zacherl	Salvator	Bock	1077.1	1029.9	6.10	61.22%
1914	Paulaner	Salvator	Doppelbock	1071.2	1033.5	4.7	51.27%
Average				1073.3	1031.6	5.35	56.88%
Sources:
"British Medical Journal" March 6th 1869, page 218
"Handbuch der chemischen technologie" by Otto Dammer, Rudolf Kaiser, 1896, pages 696-697
"Brockhaus' konversations-lexikon, Band 2" by F.A. Brockhaus, 1898
"Beer from the Expert's Viewpoint" by Arnold Spencer Wahl and Robert Wahl, 1937, page 168.