Let's Brew Wednesday - 1918 Courage X

It's time to brew again. If you can remember as far back as a week, you'll recall that last time the recipe was for Courage X Ale from 1915. Today it's the same beer, but three years later.

In 1915, breweries were still producing beers that were essentially unchanged from the pre-war period. That was no longer true by 1918. The German U-boat campaign had dragged Britain to the edge of starvation and there was insufficent grain for brewing. Lack of raw materials and government restrictions had forced brewers to slash gravities.

In just three years, Courage X had changed dramatically. The OG was down from 1049.3 to 1034.7, though the colour and hopping rate were little altered. The grist was very different. Out went californian 6-row, replaced by English Mild Ale malt. In came black malt and the dark No. 3 brewing sugar.




These are Kristen's notes and a simplified version of the recipe.


Notes
The hops are now 4 years old and they use poperinge hops. My best guess is that these were hallertauers b/c it was about a year to soon for Brewers Gold. Salmon didnt release them from Wye college until 1919 and it took time to get there, grow, etc.

The finishing gravity is even lower giving about 80% apparently attenuation. The fermentation temp is now in the 'normal' range and you can see the use of attemperators when final gravity is reached.

Once again, notes for the recipe if different from the last ones.

*Grist* - pale, mild, black and crystal.

*Hops* - Two different varieties are used. Fuggles and hallertauer are
good substitutes for the Bligh and Poperinge, respectively.

*Ferment* - Normal 70F.

*Recipe sizing* - For those wishing to resize this recipe should go by the percentages from the logs. You all know your own efficiency and hop utilization rates. If you need any help just shoot me an email and we'll work out your problems.


Simplified recipe

5gals @ 80% efficiency

Grist (lbs)
English Mild malt (Taylor) 3.04
English Pale malt (Page) 1.5
English Crystal (75L) 0.63
English Black malt (525L) 1.25oz
Invert #2 syrup (Garton) 6.8oz
Invert #3 syrup (Garton) 2.25oz


Hops (original) Oz.
Fuggle @ 4.3% (Bligh - 1914) 0.5oz
Hallertauer @ 4.2% (Pops - 1914) 0.50oz
Total 1oz

Blend all of the hops together and then add:
Start of boil - 0.67oz
After 60min remainder

Boil - 90min

Water treatment (g/gal liquor)
Magnesium Sulfate (Epsom) 1.0
Calcium Sulfate (Gypsum) 0.57
Sodium Chloride (Salt) 0.43

One night in Folkestone

Did I mention that I was in England at the weekend? Two nights in sunny Folkestone. Mikey drove us over to celebrate his birthday in blighty.

After a handful of visits, I've taken quite a shine to Folkestone. It's neither the prettiest nor liveliest nor most cosmopolitan English town. But it has a pleasant atmosphere and the locals are friendly.

We didn't have much of a plan. Stock up on pies, sausages, bacon and tea. Then get pissed. It's best not to overreach yourself. We achieved all of our modest goals. And it didn't cost the earth. Britain is so cheap nowadays, with the quid hardly worth more than the euro. Two nights in a hotel with breakfast and a 3-course evening meal included cost me a piddling 75 euros. I even had a sea view.

"What about beer, Ronald?" I hear you ask. Well there was plenty of that. Of very varied quality. It was Mikey's birthday, after all. I wasn't going to say "I'm not drinking in there, they've no handpumps." Sometimes it's nice to let beer play a supporting role. Despite the impression I may sometimes give, it doesn't yet completely dominate my every waking moment.

Mikey asked the barman in the pub attached to our hotel, the Skuba Bar, where the action was. We'd already seen a dozen groups of dangerously scantily-dressed lasses come and go. They were obviously on a circuit. A circuit we wanted to ride around, too. "Go left along the seafront. There's The Office, that's nice. A bit further along there's the Leas Club. It's full of kids and the carpets sticky, but it's OK. If you really want to make a night of it there's the Party Bar down by the harbour. That's open until three." Sounded good to me.

I finished my bottle of London Pride, Mikey knocked back his Strongbow and off we went. The Office wasn't far. I usually don't care for bouncers on the doors of pubs. But the rotund chap in black at The Office was very friendly. Welcoming, even. Inside it was modern, a bit loud and full of kids. Until we arrived, at least. We found a table in a corner next to a pair of Polish girls.

I was surprised to spot a lone handpump on the bar. Even more surprised that not only was it in use, but that the London Pride it dispensed was pretty good. While I was getting served, I savoured a glimpse of Man United's humiliation at the feet of Liverpool.

After two pints, it was time to move on. The ball-shaped bouncer gave us some advice on further destinations on our way out. What a nice chap. Leas Club. That was the next stop. After a few yards there it was: Leas Bar. In a hotel. "Non-residents welcome" the sign said. Our arrival coincided with that of a coachful of Lancastrian pensioners. A bit odd if the bar, as the Skuba barman had said, was full of kids.

The Leas Bar wasn't full of anything apart from air. No cask beer and a weird atmosphere. A pair of geriatrics were fiddling with a sound system. One of the most depressing places I've been in ages. Like a really shit mid-1970's working men's club. Without exchanging a word, Mikey and I walked straight on out again. Now there's a rarity. Me leaving a pub without having a drink.

After a few more metres we realised our mistake. When we came across the Leas Club.

Despite being called a club, there was no entrance fee. As we reached the bottom of the steps leading down to the dance floor we were swept off our feet by a tsunami warm air, damp with teenage sweat. Loud thumpy-thumpy beats were pulsing out of the speaker stacks and a stack of young limbs were thrashing around wildly. Just what Mikey had wanted.

As I walked to the bar, the carpet sucked at my shoes, as if spread with marmelade. Ahh. this must be the place Skuba barman meant. What happy memories it brought back of the Esplanade in Melbourne, proud home of the world's stickiest carpet. The one in Leas had a way to go to match the Esplanade's glory, but it was definitely on the way. Just give it another couple of decades without redecoration.

There was little action behind the bar. The staff, of which there was at least half a dozen, were all hiding in a corner. I hate waiting for beer. When I finally had a pint of chilly Guinness in my paw, I felt the glass vibrating to the pumped up bass. Why hadn't I taken any cotton wool with me? Out of practice clubbing, I guess.

It's been a while since I've seen such an enthusiastic and unselfconscious crowd of dancers. A few looked even old enough to have left school. If you watch British TV or read British newspapers, you might be led to believe that towns centres are like Paris in 1968, but without the politics. That youngsters, pumped up on drugs and booze rampage the streets, leaving a trail of broken windows and bones in their wake. This lot seemed remarkably good-humoured. Especially as quite a few were having issues with walking or even keeping upright.

Before I left, Andrew had been worried by my plans. "Don't go to a nightclub, dad. People have knives there." He's watched too many finger-wagging documentaries about The Youth of Today. "Please dad, promise me you won't go to a nightclub." I didn't go to a nightclub. I went to two.

When the gyrators on the floor began to thin, we again moved on. A short taxi ride down the hill to the Party Bar. Before entering, Mikey insisted on lining his stomach. Luckily, there was a kebab shop a couple of doors away. Amongst the faded posters of Turkish holiday resorts was a sign saying "We will not tolerate racist abuse". Not a great sign. I suppose that's the price you have to pay for catering for the late-night crowd. The staff were friendly, but clearly on their guard.

Outside the club, one of the smokers spoke to Mikey. "Did you used to drink down the Old Kent Road?" "Yes, but that was nearly 20 years ago." "I never forget a face." They then discussed down-at-heal Southeast London boozers from the late 1980's for a while.

Inside, the Party Bar was as boisterouos and good-natured as the Leas Club. The crowd was more mixed, though. I was pleased to see that for once I wasn't the oldest in the room. That honour went to the old chav with the walking stick. Early 70's, I reckon. He was doing about as much dancing as me. To give him his due, he was at least standing. After a day pubcrawling, I needed to rest my feet.

With the night almost over, Mikey managed to pull. I don't know how he does it, the smooth-talking bastard.

We didn't quite make it to chucking out time, calling it a night at 02:30. Not so bad considering I'd seriously craved my bed at 08:30.

All five British beer styles

I must be prescient. How else can I account for my last post, mocking the Brewers Association 140+ "beer styles"? I wrote it a week ago. Because of a weekend break in England, I had five posts stacked up and scheduled to be published in my absence.

What did I notice on my return? That others had been writing about the insane proliferations of made-up beer styles. Good to know I'm not the only one wondering where it will all stop. Alan at A Good Beer Blog got me pointed in the right direction with his "Being a Hound Without any Sense of Style" post.

Jack Curtin touched upon the topic in a chat with Fritz Maytag.

Over at Yours for Good Fermentables Tom Cizauskas wrote a paragraph with which I wholeheartedly concur:

"Styles, now, at least in the US, seem to be determined by formalistic minutiae, and, once in place, fiercely defended by the killer phrase "not to style"."

A post called "What is the purpose of beer styles?" on Beervana answered the question in its title thus:

"The purpose of having them at all is to bring coherence to a vast diversity of beers--not to merely create a name for every single variation."

I spend a lot of time looking brewing logs, old adverts and the like. The information I collect from them is packed into spreadsheets. It's given me a lot of material to analyse. The more I look, the fewer styles I find. I'm left with just a handful.

Removing variations based on differing strengths or the addition of a special ingredient, this is all that remains:

Pale Ale
Brown Ale
Mild Ale
Porter
Strong Ale

You could add Lager to that, but I was talking in terms of indigenous styles.

Or maybe I should stop swimming against the tide and start campaigning for the recognition of some new styles of my own. Where to start? AK, perhaps. Followed by AKA, XK, XLK, Luncheon Ale, Family Ale, Intermediate Ale. Why on earth hasn't the Brewers Association picked up on these yet?

Imperialising

It isn't true, as some have claimed, that "Imperial" was only used to describe Stout. As with much Victorian beer terminology, it was erratically and inconsistently applied.

I stumbled across this wonderful example today in an 1868 price list: Imperial Table Beer. Let's see, Imperial means really strong and Table Beer means something safe to give to the kiddies. So how on earth can a Table Beer be Imperial? The price, 2s 6d for a dozen pint bottles, implies a gravity of 1060-1065º.

Funnily enough, Imperial Table Beer isn't one of the more than 140 styles officially approved by the Brewers Association. Though "Session Beer" is. Soon there will be more styles than exhibitors at the GABF. Or mybe that's the point: having enough medals so that everyone can win one.

If you're in need of amusement, take a look at the style definitions. They gave me a few good laughs. The Porter and Stout definitions are particularly hilarious. The german ones, too. Where do they get this shit from?

Conditioning in the cask

It seems that breweries trying to skip proper conditioning in of their beer in the pub is nothing new.

This 1894 advert from Overton & Gibbon makes clear that they weren't taking shortcuts:

"Nothing artificial is used in these Ales in the shape of Finings (in order to produce early brilliancy), consequently the Ales will require about three days to become spontaneously bright. THESE ALES WILL NEVER ACIDIFY."

There really isn't anything new under the sun, is there? It sounds depressingly similar to the modern practice of racking beer pretty much bright into casks so it can be sold almost as soon as it hits the cellar floor.

The difference between Porter and Stout (part 99)

Back to one of may favourite topics: the difference between Porter and Stout. I just stumbled across this quote that I thought I'd share with you:

"Porter has now come to mean a dark malt liquor, made partly from brown or black malt, the caramel in which gives it the sweetness and syrupy appearance, and containing four or five per cent. of alcohol. Stout is a stronger porter, with larger amount of dissolved solids, and containing six or seven per cent. of alcohol."
"A Hand-book of Industrial Organic Chemistry" by Samuel Philip Sadtler, 1900, page 196.

It's official. Stout = a stronger Porter. I hope that settles this question for once and all.

Truman's Ales (part 3): 1860 - 1861

This is fun, isn't it? Going through Truman's Ales decade by decade. Who needs TV, when you've got entertainment like this?


What's fun about these numbers? Well,you can see that the gravities have dropped. X Ale was 1078 in 1850, but just 1067 in 1860. 40/- Ale fell from 1084 to 1077, XXX from 1106 to 1087. That's quite a sharp decrease. Exactly why and when, I don't know.

What are the usual culprits for gravity drops? War and taxation. Or rising costs.

For once, tax seems to have played no part. The malt tax (there was no tax on beer per se between 1830 and 1880) was steady at 2s 7d a bushel. To give you some idea what that meant, brewing a 36 gallon barrel of Porter of 1056º required two bushels of malt. So about five bob tax per barrel. Whereas before 1830 the excise duty on a barrel of Porter was ten shillings.

The price of malt could be the key. You know me. I have numbers coming out of my ears. Not for the price of bloody malt, though. I need to get myself an older Brewers' Almanack. I only have these figures:

1820 58s per quarter (approx. 336 pounds)
1857 42s
1860 36s

Doesn't look like malt was getting more expensive.

War? There was the Crimean in the 1850's. But no tax increase.

I'm a bit stumped. There's only one last thing I can think of. That the price breweries charged for a barrel of beer fell. Haven't got time to check up on that now. I've already missed my tea and the Simpson's has just started.

More beer code fun

I've been having a trawl through old directories looking for price lists again. I know. I should get myself a life. But if I didn't do it, who would?

Sometimes it isn't the beers themselves that grabs my attention. The way a price list is organised can be just as revealing. This is a good example from the Eltham Brewery for the year 1874. The beers are split into two groups "October Brewed Stock Ales & Stout" and "Mild Ale, Stout & Porter". This is a new one for me. I've never seen Stouts split into two different groups before.

It's intriguing that PA and IPA are listed as Stock Ales while AK is in the Mild Ale column. "Bitter Dinner Ale" they describe AK as. So it's a Bitter and a Mild. I suppose I can forgive McMullen for calling their AK a Mild, then.

That's not all that's unusual about this particular price list. KIPA is another new one on me. judging by the price, this must be an early example of a Double IPA. I estimate it had a gravity of at least 1090º. I would guess that the IPA was about 1070º and PA around 1065º. I'm all confused. Eltham is on the outskirts of London. I though London IPA's were weak. Oh well, that's another theory gone up in smoke.

Literary feast

When you're an obsessive, excitement comes in strange forms. Forms that would leave others shuffling away nervously.

Back in the days before beer took over my life, I used to read fiction. Czech and French were my favourites. Someone asked the other day how I learned to read so many languages. Commuting was my answer.

This did have a point. What was it again? Not to worry. I'm bound to remember it before the end of this post.

Barclay Perkins had enigmatic names for their beers. Their Porter, unlike at other London breweries, wasn't called Porter or P. No. At Barclay Perkins Porter was known as TT. Where did that come from? PorTTer? Was it named by a dyslexic brewer?

My reading matter is no longer fiction. Beer book buying binges and Google Books have caught that dead square in the goolies. My literary pretensions are on their knees, ashen-faced and whimpering.

Literary feast? Tonight, I had a meagre supper of Victorian price lists. And what should I find? Another beer called TT. What sort of beer was it? Sixpence a gallon beer. Sixpence a gallon? You rarely find anything under tenpence a gallon. It must have been like workhouse beer.

It doesn't get me any closer to solving the riddle of Barclay Perkins TT. But I do have another TT in my collection. Satisfaction enough for an obsessive.

Brown malt follow up

Brown malt. What a fascinating subject. I'm still trying to get to the bottom of what the hell it was like in the 18th century. Many thanks to MentalDental for sending me John Carr's paper "On Malting".

Carr's description of brown malt and its manufacture is intriguing.

"Strictly speaking, there are only three varieties of malt, viz. brown, amber, and pale malt. The first two are peculiar to porter, and have special reference to its flavour and colour; the third is the general basis as well of all porter as of every other species of malt liquor; and it is the only one which merits any consideration in the general question of malting. Brown malt receives all its peculiar qualities in the kiln, by an operation called blowing: it is spread there very thin, and a very quick and active heat is passed through it from flaming faggots: the sudden application of the heat converts the moisture in the grain into vapour, which blows up the husk, and the heat catching it in its distended state hardens and prevents it from collapsing; hence the grains of such malt are large and hollow, and increase the measure from one to two bushels in a quarter. The saccharine of this malt is nearly all destroyed by the operation of the fire, and its sole object in porter is to communicate flavour and colour; but as these qualities are probably to be obtained from other materials than malt, some porter-brewers are not using it at all, and the making of it is very rapidly declining. Amber malt is a species between brown and pale, and is also made on the kiln by giving it less fire than the former, and more than the latter; it is still generally used in porter along with pale malt, but the quantity made is inconsiderable."
On Malting, John Carr, Esq, 1807
[From Papers presented in the House of Commons relating to the
Sprinkling of Malt on the Floor. Ordered to be printed l0th of August, 1807]
Presented to the Committee of Enquiry into Malting
Taken from The Philosophical Magazine, Vol xxxi, 1808

I find this phrase about brown malt very revealing "its sole object in porter is to communicate flavour and colour". It got me thinking about the role of brown malt in Porter and how it changed at the end of the 18th century.

Before the hydrometer revealed that pale malt was far more economical, Porter had been brewed from 100% brown malt. That in itself tells us that the brown malt of that time was very different stuff to that of the 19th century onwards. Later brown malt had no diastatic power. It didn't need to, because there were sufficient enzymes in the pale malt base. The purpose of brown malt in a brew had changed. It was just being used for flavour and colour, as Carr wrote.

These are Porter and Stout grists from around the time Carr was writing:



The 19th century descriptions of brown malt manufacture in Hertfordshire differ from those of the previous century. In the 18th century Hertfordshire maltsters used straw to fuel their kilns. I can find no reference to the use of wood to suddenly increase the temperature at the end of the process.

The percentage of brown malt in Porter had fallen below 50% by the early 1800's. Could blown malt have been a reaction to this? Something that had more flavour and more colour than the old brown malt to compensate for the reduction in the amount used in a brew. Was blown malt a precursor of black malt?

A collection of AK's

AK, as I've already explained, obsesses me for several reasons. That's why I collect them. It's a slow day here at Barclay Perkins so I thought that I'd share a few of them with you.


There are almost as many descriptions of what AK is as there are examples. The table above has fourteen: Mild Bitter Ale, Ale, Bitter, Bitter Ale, Bitter Dinner Ale, Family Ale, Light Amber Ale, Light Bitter, Light Bitter Ale, Light Dinner Ale, Light Pale Ale, Luncheon Ale, Pale Ale, Stock Bitter Ale. Light and Bitter are the two words that crop up the most. So I guess AK was both light and bitter. Light and Bitter? Isn't that what cockneys drank in the 1960's?

The price is much more consistent than the nomenclature. All but three were a shilling a gallon wholesale. A shilling a gallon was the price for standard-strength beer for most of Victoria's reign. It's hard to imagine nowadays, isn't it? Beer staying the same price for 50 years.

Brown malt yet again

I just can't get enough of that wonderful Duff. No, of that wonderful brown malt. Such a fascinating topic. And one where there is so much contradictory evidence.

My main source today is H. Stopes, author of the classic "Malt and Malting", published in 1885.

"The Manufacture Of Black, Amber, Crystal, And Other Special Malts.Hitherto we have been considering one class of malt only, viz. that technically known as pale malt. Several other varieties exist. Under this heading we shall consider those only which depend upon the conditions already explained, but with a variation of the final process of drying, such variation being chiefly a comparatively slight difference of temperature.

Amber, porter, blown, or imperial malt can be made in any ordinary malting, the
differences to which they owe their names being almost entirely effected upon
the kiln. The scope they afford to the engineer for employment or improvement is
infinitesimal. They deserve mention only for the impressive fact, that the difference in temperature which will convert pale malt into amber or imperial is actually less than is to be found in the vast majority of kilns, between the temperature of that pale malt lying upon the surface of the tiles or wire, and of the upper surface exposed to the air. There is probably no kiln in Great Britain having only a single floor in which this difference is less than 50°. Pale malt next the tiles will be at 200° Fahr., and upon the surface 150° or less; and malt heated to 240° would make amber or imperial malt.

Blown or porter malt has the further difference that considerable heat is applied with suddenness before it has become dried. It is well known that any given temperature over 100° Fahr. will give much more colour to malt if still moist than a much greater heat if dry. Blown malt is exposed to the flare of fast-burning oak faggots or billet wood, and gains much colour and increase of size in consequence. Its use is an absurdity that is dying out, for the colour and flavour so gained are found to be very costly.

Crystal malt is green malt not fully grown, taken straight from the floor, and placed in a woven wire cylinder over a fire, and rotated. The curious sweetness of crystal malt to the palate may be readily accounted for by the mode of its drying. Sufficient
moisture is present at considerable temperature to enable the diastase to convert a portion of the starch into sugar.

Black or patent malt is pale or other malt dried in the ordinary way, and then placed in a cylinder over a fire, and rotated. The starch and saccharine constituents are speedily caramelised, and a splendid deep colour is obtained, which is communicated to porter and stout. The chief difference in the appliances used in the manufacture
of these (crystal and black) malts is the construction of the furnaces and cylinders. They have to be made in such a manner that free inspection of the malt can take place during roasting. They must also admit of ready lateral movement to facilitate filling and emptying; and appliances for proper cooling are of importance."
"The Engineering of Malting" by H. Stopes, 1885 an article in "Transactions" journal of the Society of Engineers.

What interests me about this passage is Stopes' dismissal of adding wood to increase the temperature of the kiln as an absurd and expensive practice that was disappearing. Though, it seems as if the practice survived into the lat 20th century. This is what Guy Horlock of French & Jupps has to say about making brown malt:

"We produced Brown Malt until 1980, but due to the dangerous nature of the
manufacture, nobody would insure us after that date. I have been working for F&J since 1949 and I was involved quite heavily in the production of Brown Malt."

"All my period with the production, we have never used anything other than Hornbeam, both poles and faggots and I know that Taylors at Sawbridgeworth (later to become part of ABM) did the same. However I know that Swonnels at Yarmouth did use offcuts of Oak, simply because they has a woodyard (Jewsons) next door, but I have never heard of anything else in the production and never coal."
Extract from a letter written by Guy Horlock, curator, French & Jupps Museum, Stanstead Abbotts, Hertfordshire.

So it looks like the archaic practice of finishing roasted malts with faggots of wood didn't die out as Stopes expected. Anyone have any idea how they make brown malt nowadays?

French (presumably short for French & Jupp) and Taylor are names that frequently crop up in the brewing logs of Whitbread and other London breweries. Usually it was either brown or black malt that they supplied.

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1915 Courage X

Welcome to the very first Let's Brew Wednesday. Brought to you by Barclay Perkins in association with Kristen England of the BJCP. I do the bullshitting, Kristen does the work of actually putting the recipes together.

Today's recipe is an Courage X Ale from the early years of WW I. The original was brewed in the Horsleydown brewery, situated right next to Tower Bridge on the south bank of the Thames. The brewery building is still there, though nowadays it contains fancy flats rather than brewing kettles.

The war, other than making beer more expensive through tax increases, had little effect on brewing before 1917. Beers remained at pretty much their pre-war strength. At around 5% ABV, Courage X was considerably stronger than later Milds. Note that the darkest malt in the grist is crystal. Which is why the colour is a dark amber rather than brown.




These are Kristen's notes on the recipe:

Grist - 1 pale, 1 mild, 1 6-row and 1 crystal. Whomever you like to use, do so. I would have to say that the three base malts are all quite a bit different so do your best to mimic that.

Sugars - #3 invert syrup. If you dont have it you can mimic it by using dark brown sugar and inverting it. Invert sugar is made by mixing two parts table sugar to one part water, and adding two teaspoons lemon juice (1/4tsp tartaric acid) per pound of sugar. The mixture is brought almost to a boil and then reduced to a vigorous simmer for about 30 minutes.

Hops - Three different varieties are used. Fuggles and EKG are good substitutes for the UK ones but really any hop can be used that has an extended pedigree (read old). The ubiquitous Cluster American hops are a must.

Mash - Underlet the mash if at all possible (adding liquor to the bottom). If not, then a direct infusion will work just fine. You want a rate of 1.03qt/lb strike ratio. Do the two step infusion...if you aren't able, do a single infusion at 149F.

Liquor treatment - Salts are to be added to each gallon used.

Yeast - Any English will do well. One that particularly finished dry is one you want. Timothy Taylors yeast started at Courage so if you can get it, do so.

Ferment - This beer is a bit different in that its fermented at quite a high temperature. It averages right around 74-75F which is really quite high.


Here is a simplified version of just the recipe for 5 gal:

5gals

Grist (lbs)
English Pale malt (Hutchinson) 3.06
English Mild malt (Hilton) 3.06
American 6-row malt (California) 0.90
English Crystal (75L) 0.44
Invert #3 syrup (Garton) 0.99

Hops (original) Oz.
EKG @ 4.1% (Scott - 1914) 1.00
Cluster @ 5.2% (California - 1914) 0.33
Fuggle @ 4.2% (Prichett - 1913) 0.50
Total 1.83oz

Blend all of the hops together and then add:
Start of boil 1.25oz
After 90min remainder

Boil - 2 hours

Water treatment (g/gal liquor)
Magnesium Sulfate (Epsom) 1.26
Calcium Sulfate (Gypsum) 0.85
Sodium Chloride (Salt) 0.60

Bottle-conditioned beach

I'm shocked by the lack of commitment over at Boak and Bailey to decent beer. Shocked, disgusted and a little bit sad.

I hesitate to repeat it here, but this is what they wrote:

"After all, it’s just not practical to sling a few bottle-conditioned ales in a bag and take them to the beach. For one thing, they’ll get shook up. For another, you can’t drink them from the bottle. And — the final nail in the coffin — they just don’t look cool."

Can't take bottle-conditioned beer to the beach? I beg to differ on that one.

It's easy-peasy. You just need to decant your St Bernardus into a plastic bottle. Then you're ready to go. No yeast to get disturbed. And some fizz is removed in the process. Brilliant! Everyone else will be swilling swill from a plastic container. You'll fit right in.

It works equally well for the playground, too. You don't want the other parents to spot what a pisshead you are. So use a Diet Coke bottle. St Bernardus Abt has many great features. One is being exactly the same colour as Coke.

Looking cool? As Stonch has remarked, that's the last thing I'm worried about.

Truman's Ales 1850-1851

A promised, more crazily-strong Truman Ales from the 19th century.

Beers made stronger for Export? Take a look below. The second-weakest beer is Export Ale. I have a suspicion where the idea that export beers were stronger came from. After WW I. I've found plenty of export beers in the logs in the 1920's and 1930's. They have the gravities of pre-1914 beers. Brewers continued to make the old-style beers for foreign markets as they weren't liable for UK tax.

Guinness, that's a good example. Until 1916 Extra Stout and Foreign Extra Stout had the same OG: 1074. FES is still about the same, while Extra Stout is a puny 1042 or so. (How can you have a Stout with a gravity below 1055? Guinness Extra Stout is a travesty and doesn't deserve to be called Stout.)


Oh yes, note that the Pale Ale was the weakest beer at 1067. Not very popular, either. There were only a couple of brews a year. X Ale, the ordinary Mild of the day, was an impressive 1078. As the 19th century progressed, the gravity of X Ale dropped to 1055, but Pale Ale stayed much the same, at about 1065.

Beer Calendar

I'm so forgetful. I'd intended publishing my beer calendar before the start of the year. Oh well. Only 10 weeks late.

January - Jenever Month
February - Faro month
March - Mild Month
April - Abstinence Month . . . only joking . . . Authentic (under 4% ABV) IPA Month
May - Mild Month
June - Just About Anything Alcoholic Month
July - Jenever Month. You can't stop at just the one jenever.
August - (St Bernardus) Abt Month
September - (Brown) Stout Month
October - (Any) Old Ale Month
November - Nothing Less Than 9% ABV Month
December - Double Brown (not Southern or Northern) Ale Month

The colour of malt

Recent recipes have resulted in questions about the colour of crystal malt. I never imagined I'd have discussions about things like this. Most, I'm sure, hoped they never would.

Amber malt and crystal malt are right bastards. As much, in their own way, as brown malt. But let's not get distracted by that. Both amber and crystal malt varied greatly in colour from maltster to maltster.

Amber malt filled almost the whole space between pale and brown in terms of colour. How on earth can we hope to work out what shade of malt the records are talking about? There's no colour indication in the logs.

But . . . . there is a hidden clue. Nothing exact, but a rough guide.

Some logs give the weight per quarter (a volume measure) of the various malts. In general, the darker the malt, the lighter the weight. That's something I learned to take account for in transcribing recipes. Five quarters of pale malt is a lot heavier than five quarters of brown malt.

Do you see where I'm leading? We can make a guess at the colour from the weight (in pounds) per quarter.

To the right you'll see the weight per half quarter of Barclay Perkins malts for the years 1937 to 1939.

Crystal malt has weights of 140, 135, 135, 140, 168, 144, 142, 142, 144.

Brown malt 140, 130, 130, 130, 138, 138

Pale Ale malt 169, 168, 165, 168, 168, 170, 170

(That's for those of you who can't be bothered to look at the images.)

Is this nerdy? Yes, if you're threatened by anyone with knowledge because your own ignorance is so great. Personally, I love a puzzle and a challenge.

Working for free

Sometimes I think I'm crazy. All the work I do for nothing. Nada. No reward at all. Except the occasionally bit of laughable abuse. How many hours have I put into the website, blog and book? It doesn't bear thinking about. But working for free does have one huge advantage: you can do whatever you want.

I only write about what I want to. I have no employer, publisher or editor peering over my shoulder, tutting at the unmarketability of my output. Or telling me what to write. It's an incredibly liberating feeling, being your own man*.

That's what's great about the modern electronic world. Everyone has that opportunity. To speak from the heart, without mediation. Though much of what we write may bore the trolleys of all but a handful of the population. I'm not exactly mainstream myself. (My prediction to Mike "I'll sell loads of copies of 'Mild!' - ten easily." may have been a touch optimistic.) Freedom of thought and the freedom to express your thoughts is a beautiful thing.

I'm going to continue writing for free. Because it gives me a satisfaction no sum of money could equal. And to continue writing what I choose. Ditto. No-one will tell me what to write.

*Or woman.

Let's Brew (Whitbread 1950) Mild!

Enough of all those stupidly strong beers. Time to return to a nice watery Mild. The rather inappropriately-named Whitbread Best Ale from 1950.


The main difference between Best Ale and Whitbread's pre-war Mild (apart from the lower gravity) was the amount of crystal malt. In 1939 X Ale, over 13% of the grist was crystal malt. In 1950, it was just about half that. As is typical for mass-produced Milds of the period, the colour comes from dark No.3 invert sugar.

Homebrewing

I've decided to regularise posting historic recipes. From now on, Wednesday will be "Let's Brew" day here at Barclay Perkins.

March will, of course, be given over to Mild recipes. March is Mild Month, after all. Next month? Probably Stock Ales. They're pretty neglected. It should be very educational.

Truman Porter and Stout in 1850

I had a question (from Bill in Oregon) about is response to yesterday's Truman Imperial recipe. Did all the Truman Porters have so little black malt (just over 2%)?

It had struck me how little black malt it used. About 5% is what I would have expected. So I went and had a look at the whole set for the same year, 1850.


As you can see, none had more than 3.3% black malt in the grist. Which is pretty low by later standards. But for 1850? Well let's take a look at Barclay Perkins at the same period:


Pretty much the same: 2 0r 3% black malt. Why so low? Take a look at the rest of the grist. They still contain a healthy proportion of brown malt. My guess is that they were only using the amount of black malt needed to get the desired colour.

Truman 1850 Imperial

Hey, I told you it was Truman week. Here's a recipe from 1850 for Imperial, their top of the range Stout.


Is it me, or are there a ton of hops in that?

Imperial Mild

Imperials. Truman. That's what this week is about. Truman and Imperial. (And being sick as a dog at home with only series 3 and 4 of "Goodnight Sweetheart" to keep me company.) Hey. let's put them together! Truman and Imperial. Isn't that brilliant?

Hold on. I have to think about this. Truman - pretty wild, cool, groovy, baby. Imperial - just out of sight, crazy, apeshit. Can you take both at once? I don't want to uberausgegrub you. (Sorry about the incomprehensibility. Medicine's fault. Got me halfgedeutsching.)

I've been stalling. I'd forgotten that I'd already done the recipe. My isn't mind what was it.


With an OG of 1113, do you think Truman's XXXX was a Quadrupel or an Imperial?

Answers on a postcard to"

Beer Classification Institute,
Megalith House,
3rd potato field on the right,
Tristan da Cunha,

Truman Ales part one: 1831 - 1841

I told you this week was Truman week. It's exciting, isn't it? I'm going to kick off with an overview of Truman's Ales in the middle of the 19th century.

It's funny how beer styles develop over time. Go back 150 years and the relationships between the styles is often quite different. Especially when you look at Mild (a beer where "Alcohol content is traditionally very low"). Odd word, "traditional". Very vague, don't you think? It refers to a practice that was common at some unspecified period in the past.

If "traditional" covers the years 1940 to 1980, then the assessment of Mild being very low in alcohol isn't far from the mark. Go back any further than 1914 and it's utter and complete bollocks. As you'll see from the tables below. The weakest Mild brewed by Truman in the period I cover had a gravity of 1066. I don't think that counts as exceptionally weak in anyone's books. Certainly not mine.


In the 1830's, Truman brewed a wide range of K and X Ales, which varied in strength from strong to bloody strong. The equivalent K and X Ales, for example XX and XXK had similar gravities (though the K version's was usually a touch higher). Their main difference was the hopping rate, which was 50-100% greater in the K Ale.

One other point of interest. Take a look at when the K Ales were brewed. In the table above they were all brewed in March. One of the traditional times for the brewing of Strong Ales.


By 1840, little had changed, except that a new beer had been introduced , 40/- Ale. Now you shouldn't start getting confused by thinking of Scotland. Prior go adopting the use of the X and K system, English breweries had also used the retail price per hogshead as a way of indicating the relative strengths of their different beers.

Table Beer is intriguing, too. Did they really give it to kids? With gravities of 1049 and 1058 neither was exactly watery. They weren't brewing a great deal of Table Beer, squeezing some out of the later runnings of stronger beers every now and again.

You'll note again that all the K Ales but one were brewed in February, March or April. Very traditional.

Don't worry. I've not finished yet. Still more lovely OG charts to come.

Faggots

I've always had a soft spot for faggots*. I can remember my mother feeding me them when I was but a lad. What could be nicer than a hot faggot with mushy peas?

Imagine my surprise when, moving to Thornton Heath in South London, I discovered that they had faggots there, too. Not quite the same as you classic midlands faggot. Not as rounded. But still pretty tasty. Though my mum's faggots were always better.

So let's hear it for faggots. Stonch should get some for his pub. He's already got scratchings. What could be a more perfect match that faggots and scratchings?


* Some ignorant people spell the word "fagget". Such a mistake is typical of a person of limited IQ and an inability to question what he's been told. A fag get, you could say.

Checking out Mild and Brown Ale styles

Given all the recipes I've been posting for Mild and Brown Ale, I thought I'd best check out how the experts describe them.

First off, Ratebeer:

Mild Ale
Slightly malty, no hop flavor or aroma. Medium to dark brown in color with very little head or carbonation. Mild refers to lack of any hop flavor or aroma. Serve with traditional pub fare.

Brown Ale
Color ranges from reddish-brown to dark brown. Lower in alcohol than porter, medium to full body flavor. Appropriate foods are apple pie, pork with brown sauce, beef vegetable soup and cheddar.

This is what BeerAdvocate has to say:

Dark Mild Ale
The quintessential British session beer, like its name suggests, a Mild is known for its low level of hops character. Alcohol content is traditionally very low. Grainy to toasty malts might be present, but expect some body from the high dextrins produced in brewing. Low carbonation with a near still, bubbly head. Colors can range from gold to dark brown. Traditionally a draft beer made popular in London and the Midlands of England.


English Brown Ale
Spawned from the Mild Ale, Brown Ales tend to be maltier and sweeter on the palate, with a fuller body. Color can range from reddish brown to dark brown. Some versions will lean towards fruity esters, while others tend to be drier with nutty characters. All seem to have a low hop aroma and bitterness.

And finally, the most pretigious of all, the BJCP:

Dark Mild Ale
Overall Impression: A light-flavored, malt-accented beer that is readily suited to drinking in quantity. Refreshing, yet flavorful. Some versions may seem like lower gravity brown porters.

History: May have evolved as one of the elements of early porters. In modern terms, the name “mild” refers to the relative lack of hop bitterness (i.e., less hoppy than a pale ale, and not so strong). Originally, the “mildness” may have referred to the fact that this beer was young and did not yet have the moderate sourness that aged batches had. Somewhat rare in England, good versions may still be found in the Midlands around Birmingham.


Southern English Brown Ale
History: English brown ales are generally split into sub-styles along geographic lines. Southern English (or “London-style”) brown ales are darker, sweeter, and lower gravity than their Northern cousins. Developed as a bottled product in the early 20th century out of a reaction against vinous vatted porter and often unpalatable mild. Well suited to London’s water supply.

Ingredients: English pale ale malt as a base with a healthy proportion of darker caramel malts and often some roasted (black) malt and wheat malt. Moderate to high carbonate water would appropriately balance the dark malt acidity. English hop varieties are most authentic, though with low flavor and bitterness almost any type could be used.

Do you think these descriptions match what we're seeing in the recipes? I'd appreciate your comments.

I will say one thing. BeerAdvocate says of Dark Mild: "Alcohol content is traditionally very low". I like that one. Like "IPA is strong". When exactly does the "Traditional" period cover? For Dark Mild, it's post WW II. For IPA, it seems to be 1830.

Truman week

It's Truman week here at Barclay Perkins. Or is it Imperial week? No, that sounds a bit fascist. Truman week it is. I've so many exciting things planned. I can hardly wait.

"What have you got in store for us, Ronald?" So much, so much. I'll kick off with an overview of Truman's Ales 1831 - 1865. Fascinating, it is. You should see the gravities of those suckers. Seeing just how Pale Ale (they brewed it once or twice a year) relates to the X and K Ales is very revealing. Pale Ale a strong beer, eh?

There will be a couple of special recipe posts called "Let's brew Imperial!" One - a Stout - really was called Imperial. The other, well I call it Imperial Mild. For Truman's it was just XXXX. I think my name's snappier.

Popularity

I've never had as many friends. If Facebook is to be believed. OK, so I don't know who many of them are. They still count as friends, don't they?

Michelle DeWitt and Brianne Day. They look like people I'd like to know. I'm not going to complain about extra young female friends. I've always been short on those. But it would be sort of nice to have some idea of who they are and how come we've ended up as friends on Facebook.

Maybe they've a family connection with Barclay Perkins.

It's a good likeness, don't you think, the image to the right? Except for the hat. I don't wear hats.

Let's Brew 1955 Whutbread DB Brown Ale!

Not another recipe today. Two more recipes. You must be all leaping for joy. I know I am.

Brown Ale. Yet another topic I like to bang on about. (That makes 3,229 and counting.) You know that stuff about "Northern" and "Southern" Brown Ales. I'd like to know where Whitbread Double Brown fits into that simplistic scheme of things. It was too strong to be a "Southern" Brown and too dark to be a "Northern" Brown. And it was brewed in the South.

In the 1950's Whitbread brewed two very different Brown Ales. Double Brown and Forest Brown. The former was Whitbread's first Brown Ale, introduced in 1926. Below are the recipes for both. The originals were, coincidentally, brewed on the same day.

Double Brown's gravity had changed little since its birth. The 1926 version was 1054, the 1955 one 1051. With a base of PA malt, its grist was quite different to Whitbread Milds of the period and was similar to that of PA or IPA. Forest Brown, on the other hand, had a base of Mild Ale malt and very closely resembled the grist for Best Ale, Whitbread's Mild. Though it is not identical. Forest Brown is slightly stronger at 1033 as opposed to 1031 for the Mild.



I've just taken a look at which ingredients the BJCP claim go into a Southern English Brown Ale:

"English pale ale malt as a base with a healthy proportion of darker caramel
malts and often some roasted (black) malt and wheat malt. Moderate to high
carbonate water would appropriately balance the dark malt acidity. English hop
varieties are most authentic, though with low flavor and bitterness almost any
type could be used."

All I can say is that the malt stuff is total fantasy. The weaker types of Brown Ale I've seen recipes for all got their colour from dark sugar or caramel. And the base malt was mild not pale ale malt. Where do they get crap like this from? Just make it up?

Let's brew (Whitbread 1923) PA!

This recipe is mainly for comparison purposes. To let you see how Whitbread's IPA related to their PA.

The IPA was considerably weaker (1036 as opposed to 1046 for the PA), but had more hops and was more highly-attenuated. The ingredients used were pretty much the same: English 2-row pale ale malt, American 6-row pale malt, no.1 brewing sugar and East Kent and Mid Kent hops. Interestingly, the PA had a higher proportion of sugar than the IPA.

PA was Whitbread's standard draught Bitter. IPA was their biggest-selling beer, but was only available in bottled form. Whitbread's PA was a little on the weak side. More typical was a gravity of 1048, but some London brewers, such as Watney and Barclay Perkins, brewed their PA to a gravity of over 1050.

The dry-hopping is a guess, based on the practice at Barclay Perkins. Whitbread PA would certainly have been dry-hopped. Unfortunately, their brewing logs make no mention of dry hops. This isn't unusual. Barclay Perkins are the only brewery I've come across so far that did bother to.



If I carry on at this rate you'll soon be able to recreate the whole Whitbread 1923 range. Now Wouldn't that be fun?

I'm still trying to decide on tomorrow's recipe. I'm torn between 1923 Whitbread KK and Whitbread's two 1955 Brown Ales, Double Brown and Forest Brown. Do you have any preference?

Comments on my recipes, please

I'm starting to go recipe crazy. But before I waste too much time, I'd like to make sure that I'm doing it right.

First, water volumes. I'm reckoning on the basis of about 6.5 gallons to get 5 gallons of wort. Is this about right for homebrewers?

Grain quantities: after a comment about the mashing efficiency homebrewers get, I've started upping the amount of grain by 5-10%. Are the quantities I've given correct for target gravity? I'm sure some of you have that fancy brewing software you can just feed it into.

Hops. Currently I'm giving the vintage and scaling down the quantity as given in the log. That is, I'm not making any allowance for the age of hops. Do you prefer the recipes as they are or would you prefer me to just give the equivalent amount of fresh hops?

Any other comments or suggestions are welcome.

Let's Brew 1923 Whitbread IPA!

I've got a good one for you today. An old IPA recipe. Whitbread IPA from 1923, to be precise.

[Shouting warning] Remember me mentioning weaker IPA. And how ridiculous it is to state, as the BJCP does, that it is incorrect to call any beer under 4% ABV an IPA. What justification do they have for that statement? History? How long do you have to brew a beer a certain way for that to become traditional for the style? Think about that while you're looking at this recipe.

IPA was Whitbread's biggest seller in 1923, accounting for 23% of sales. It was exclusively a bottled beer. To put IPA's gravity of 1036 into context, Whitbread's standard draught Mild, X, had an OG of 1042, and its standard draught Bitter, PA, 1046.


2009 minus 1923. I make that 86 years. The weak British style of IPA has been around at least that long. Yet it's tantamount to fraud if you listen to some. Now tell me, how long has DIPA been going?

Why is to so difficult to accept this type of IPA as legitimate? They've been with us a lot longer than the American variety.

Let's brew (1923 Whitbread) Mild

Time for another Mild recipe. This is fun, isn't it. It now really is March. I can get really into the swing of Mild March Month. Not seen much (well, any) mention of it elsewhere yet. Must be the CAMRA beer police suppressing it. Will they stop at nothing to impose May as Mild Month?

This is another pretty standard 1920's London Mild. People have commented in the amount of sugar in some of these old recipes. Here's one with just a little. But a very important ingredient as that provides all the colour. You can find details of No.3 brewing sugar here.

Some more recipe notes. MA = Mild Ale malt. Californian would usually imply 6-row barley. The Thetford was British 2-row.

Here's a word on Oregon hops. The main West Coast hop-growing regions were Sonoma, Russian River and Sacramento in California; the Williamette Valley in Oregon; and the Yakima Valley in Washington State. The commonest variety was the Oregon, also known as Late Cluster. It was thought to be a cross between an English hop and wild American hops. It had a high lupulin content an excellent preservative qualities. The only drawback was the strong blackcurrant flavour that meant it could not be used on its own. (Source: "Brewing Science & Practice" H. Lloyd Hind, 1943, pages 394-395.)

British Columbian hops. Large amounts of hops were grown in British Columbia in Cananda, mostly in the Fraser River Valley and on the Sumas Prairie. The most important varieties were English Fuggle's and Goldings which had been planted in the the middle of the 19th century. These hops were generally similar in flavour to their English ancestors. Some American Cluster hops were also grown.


In many brews, caramel was added to get the colour to exactly the right shade. The colour is given in the log 6.5 Red 40 Brown. Anyone have any idea how this relates to modern EBC values?

Where are we going to put it all?

My latest book-buying spree has delivered mixed results. Buying brewery histories is a total lottery. Some have nothing at all of interest. The corporate ones are the worst. Scarcely even a mention of beer.

I'm often very critical of other beer writing. You get the written equivalent of the shouting I do at the television. Programmes about all sorts of things get me yelling. History. Language. Music. Architecture. House restoration. The weather. And especially beer.

Brewery histories. Local histories. A lottery. I hope for old adverts. Easy illustrations to find and black and white. Perfect for such books. There's rarely more in terms of hard beer facts than what's in the adverts. At least you learn what beers they brewed. I order these histories and hope. (Don't tell Dolores about that. "What! You don't even know what's in these books? Ronald! Stop wasting our money on that crap. Where are we going to put it all?"

A book that doesn't make me squeak in despair. "Cardiff Pubs and Breweries" by Brian Glover. It's got some pretty handy bits. "That looks just like the boring crap you write, dad." was Andrew's opinion. He's not far wrong. Lot's of letters. X's. OG's. The stuff I collect. I've already begun the harvest. It is very sad, I know, that a grown man can get so excited at the size of a beer's gravity.

A definite keeper. *

Dolores gave me the you're-bankrupting-us-with-these-stupid-books speech today. But only for 5 minutes. I'm good for another dozen, I reckon. Books. Not being told off. I'm used to that. My mum. My brother. Various bosses. Lexie ("You alcoholic!"), Andrew. Pretty much every Czech waiter that ever served me.

Here's the beer details I've gleaned from "Cardiff Pubs and Breweries". Plus some others from the Whitbread Gravity Book.





I'm not going to comment much on these today. Just a couple of points.

Pre-WW I, the beers are pretty weak. Hancock's XX was just 1040 in 1905. That's very weak. The weakest Mild from most breweries was over 1050. Treherbert's XX was a pathetic 1032 in 1915. I've never seen a Mild gravity so low before 1918. Post WW I, gravities dropped less than in England. In fact they were barely lower then pre-war. The net result was that Welsh beers became much closer in strength to their English counterparts.

There's also a large number of different Milds from each brewery. Hancock's brewed 3 right up until 1960.

That's it for now. More recipes tomorrow, I think. What about a nice, weak IPA?

* I never throw a book away.