Low-key day out

We were supposed to be at the Kerstbierfestival in Essen. Until we found out a couple of weeks ago that it was all-ticket this year and Saturday was already sold out. Bum.

“There’s a food festival at the Westergasfabriek, Ronald. Do you fancy going?”

“Why not?”

Unlike the Film Food Festival or Rollende Keukens, this only used one small part of the complex. Westergasfabriek is huge with a dozen or so former industrial buildings that have been converted into venues, bars and halls.

It’s dead handy living in Amsterdam. You just need to jump on a tram and you can be pretty much anywhere in half an hour. Two trams and 30 minutes later we were in the Westergasfabriek. Looking for the entrance to the hall.

“We should have walked the other side.” I say unhelpfully. We end up virtually circling the long building before finding the way in.

“I wonder where the vintage drinks are?”

“It’s vintage clothes, Ronald.”

“I’m sure you said vintage drinks.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well that’s what I heard.”

Bit of a disappointment, the lack of vintage drinks.

It’s low-key to the point of stasis inside. Which is just what I was after. We scout around the ethnic food stalls and note down a couple of possibilities before heading off to brewpub Troost next door. We’ll be eating later.

This is the second Troost location, the other being in De Pijp. One odd thing about both is that you can’t pay with cash, only a card. Not a problem for me, but could be for some visitors from abroad.

I notice a theme from their other gaff: uncomfortable seating. Made some sort of sense in the other place. Former school building, school-style chairs. Get that. My arse might have complained, but I got the theme. Here they've recreated something similar - steel tubing and plywood - for a reason I'm struggling to grasp. They hate my arse? No, can't be that. Trying to fit in with a similar theme?

Something more appropriate to the building - gas fittings-themed maybe - and some fucking cushioned seating would be nice. Or maybe they don't want boney-arsed wrinklies like me clogging up their pub.

As with the first brewpub, the brewing kit seems way out of scale. Is that a 20 or 30 hl brew house?* With how many conicals of double that size - 9 or 12?. It seems ridiculously over the top. Then I notice something. A sign saying that in addition to their own beers, they also offer some of the beers contracted brewed there. Ah, it’s starting to make sense. With so many breweries starting up with no kit, there must be quite a demand for contract brewing in Amsterdam.

“I’ll have a Weizen, Ronald.” Dolores likes her wheat beer.

I have a Troost Extra Stout. Very nice it is, too. Dark, full-bodied and roasty as a Stout should be. I notice a sign for Van Vollenhoven’s Stout, one of the contract-brewed beers on offer.

“Is the Van Vollenhoven’s the same beer as the Troost Extra Stout?” I ask the waitress. “Yes.”

I suppose two Stouts on draught was too much to hope for.

For my next beer I take an IPA. And Troost gin. Which unfortunately comes loaded with ice. Once me and Dolores have fished that out, it tastes OK. If a little vegetal. The IPA is fair enough, too. Not as florally fruity as ‘t Ij’s, but more bitter at the back end. Quite dark, too, but thankfully not murky.

Dolores has a Lager for her second beer. "The Weizen was nice, but €4.75 is too much." The Lager is under 3 euros.

Drinks drunk we head back to the food thing to pick up some food. Three Argentinian empanadas. One for us to share now, one each for the kids for tea. Very nice. Especially with the chili sauce. And only three euros a pop.

On the way home we nipped into Marks for some crumpets and a Sunday joint. Almost too much excitement for one day.



* Almost as stupid as ingredient-guessing, guessing the size of a brewhouse.



NeighbourFood Market
http://www.neighbourfoodmarket.nl/en/
Held every third weekend of the month.


Brouwerij Troost Westergas
Pazzanistraat 27,
1014 DB Amsterdam.
email: brouwerij@brouwerijtroost.nl
Tel: +31 20 737 1028
http://www.brouwerijtroostwestergas.nl/
Opening times:
Mon - Thur 16:00 – 01:00
Fri 16:00 – 03:00
Sat 12:00 – 03:00
Sun 12:00 – 24:00

Bottled beer in the 1950’s

Remember that ridiculously detailed look at cask beer in the 1950’s I posted earlier this year? I’ve finally got around to bottled beer. From the same book, of course, Jeffrey’s 1956 "Brewing: Theory and Practice".

Bottled beer was, as I’m sure you’re fed up of hearing, all the rage in the 1950’s. It was the only type of beer whose sales were increasing. Making it vital for brewers to have good bottling facilities and the right range of bottled products.

“The demand on the part of the beer drinking public for bottled beers has increased enormously during the past half  century. In the year 1900 bottled beer represented less than 5% of the total output in this country. The proportion had risen to 25% in 1939 and is now 35% (1954). It was estimated that during the latter year some 2,500,000,000 bottles of beer were produced in Great Britain: that is an average of 50 bottles per head of the population representing just over 6 gallons out of a total of 18 gallons per person per annum.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, page 330.

Undoubtedly the percentage of bottled beer would have been higher, had it not been for WW II. There was a shortage of glass for bottles and even wood for crates, which limited the amount a brewer could produce. (During the war Barclay Perkins regularly sent letters to their tenants warning them they would only get bottled beer delivered if they returned the empty bottles and crates.) Plus bottling used more energy than producing draught beer, which was another important consideration.

So around a third of beer was in bottled form. That’s even more significant when you realise 70-80% of beer was consumed in pubs at the time. There must have been a lot of customers drinking either bottled beer or draught and bottled beer mixed. The situation now is much more complicated. A much higher proportion of drinking goes on at home, so that naturally boosts the amount of bottled or canned beer sold. On the other hand, bottled beer is much less often consumed in pubs.

Here’s a table of draught vs. bottled, showing the ebb and flow in the late 20th century:

UK Draught and bottled beer 1970 - 2002
year	draught	can/bottle
1960	64	36
1970	73	27
1976	77.1	22.9
1980	78.9	21.1
1985	77.2	22.8
1986	75.8	24.2
1987	74.4	25.6
1988	73.4	26.6
1989	72.1	27.8
1990	71.6	28.4
1991	70.3	29.7
1992	69.3	30.7
1993	68.2	31.8
1994	67	33
1995	65.3	34.7
1996	65.4	34.5
1997	65	35
1998	63.9	36.1
2001	60.3	39.7
2002	58.3	41.7
Source:
British Beer and Pub Association

Bottled sales fell between 1960 and 1980, then started to rise again.

Why was the demand for bottled beer increasing in the 1950’s? I’ll let Jeffrey answer that:

“There are many reasons for this increasing demand for bottled beer. The trend in this direction was no doubt increased by higher prices owing to heavy duties. Formerly many beer drinkers could afford to buy a small cask, but now they cannot spare the prohibitive price for that amount. They have to be content with a number of bottles instead. Bottles are much easier to deal with than a cask in the home, and need no tapping and spiling. It must not be forgotten, too, that whereas when the beer was naturally conditioned a certain amount of beer and sediment had to be left in the bottles, nowadays every drop is available for consumption. With chilled and filtered beers there is no waste, a big consideration when the cost is taken into account. Undoubtedly, also, present-day gravities play an important part in the preference for bottled beers. The gravity is often so low that anything approaching reasonable condition is difficult to develop in draught beers. Artificial condition is introduced in bottled beers and makes them more palatable.”
"Brewing Theory and Practice" by E. J. Jeffery, 1956, page 330.

I believe that‘s the first time I’ve seen anyone say that low gravities caused problems in conditioning draught beer. The usual complaint is that it didn’t have a very long shelf-life and was easily messed by poor cellarmanship.

That’s a nice little introduction to the topic. Next we’ll be plunging into the ridiculous detail pool head first.

Random Dutch beers (part ten)

Hi there. Time for another of our little post-prandial whatever they ares. Chat, tasting, steaming pile of crap. The future will decide.

Weird experience, my visit to Ton Overmars between getting off the bus and throwing off my shoes at home. I didn't buy a single bottle of St. Bernardus. No Abt. No Prior. Just seven single beers. Clearly this beer-reviewing lark is getting out of hand.

Another from one of the brewery-less brewers:

Cinema Brewers Bock to the Future 6.5% ABV, €2.65 for 33cl
Full marks for the name. Slightly worried by the "Chocolate and vanilla porter" description. Muddy brown. Bit of a plippitty-ploppitty head. No, Swiss cheese head, full of holes. Malty sort of smell. Definitely chocolate in the gob. In an artificial flavour added way.* OK. Doesn't make me want to vomit or change religion. Like a couple of chunks of milk chocolate dissolved in Amstel Bok. Would be great, if I ate chocolate. Not to my taste.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

Andrew briefly lifts his head from his soup and says, quietly, but firmly, "No."

"You know what to expect, don't you Andrew man?" says Dolores supportively.

"This one is too chocolately for me, Dolores."

She gets what I'm hinting at, but doesn't bite: "I'm too tired for all that now."

You'll have to take my word for it again.

The Sisters Brewery Queen Bee 7.7% ABV, €3.35 for 33cl
Naughty yellow, with a tinge of regret. A thorough beating lifts the head for a while, like a trout reaching for a fly. It soon sinks, like the heart of a teenage boy at each rejection. Smells hoppy. After my Uiltje embarrassment, I'll be steering well clear of ingredient-guessing. More twig than tropic in the hops. Bitter in a constructive way. And the bitterness hangs around, perhaps a little too long, like a crafty early-morning fart before the missus awakes.



* Based on my last attempt at ingredient guessing, I'm probably way off the mark and it's flavoured with the finest Venezuelan artisan chocolate.

Last Of Scotland's Dry Towns Now Wet

Thought you'd like to know when this momentus occasion was:

"Last Of Scotland's Dry Towns Now Wet
KIRKINTILLOCH, Scotland
(AP) - The Scots of Kirkintilloch voted 5,293-4,858 to allow pubs in the town for the first time in almost half a century.

Residents in 1920 voted pubs out under a local option and the drys won five polls in the 48 years since.

Kirkintilloch, a town of 24,000, was the last of Scotland's dry districts."
Sarasota Journal Jan 6th 1969
(Thanks to Alan of A Good Beer Blog for finding this.)

A surprisingly high turnout. And pretty close.

Branded Bitter in 1953

How could I have forgotten Bitter? Only the second most popular style of the day. I blame Pale Ale.

Because in my own table I make no distinction between Bitter and Pale Ale. I list both as Pale Ale. Why? Because there is no effing difference between them. Simple as that. No need to make things any more complicated than they already are. You can see the confusion of the two terms was common: several of the brands in the table are called Pale Ales.

I’m sort of wondering how they came to classify some beers as Pale Ales and others as Bitters. They haven’t even used the conventional Bitter = draught, Pale Ale = bottled divider. It all just seems . . . random.

As only one of the breweries – Everard’s – still exists, it should come as no shock that most of these beers are long gone. Ruddle’s County is the only one to have survived, though obviously not at its home brewery. I’m surprised it made the list. In the 1950’s, Ruddle’s was a tiny brewery in a not very fashionable part of the country.

I can remember seeing bottles of English Stock – with its distinctive, garish label – in Whitbread pubs in the 1970’s and 1980’s. Fremlins was, of course, long gone by then. But the brand continued a sort of zombie exietence. I was never tempted to try it, just intrigued by the odd labels.

Getting back to County, it was a very trendy beer, in its day, amongst nerdier drinkers. Never cared for it myself. I always found it too sweet and heavy. Mind you, I didn’t like their Ordinary Bitter, Blue, much more. Just one of those breweries whose beers just didn’t appeal for some reason.

Nice to see Newark beer Hole's Golden Age make the cut.

Branded Bitter in 1953
Brewery	Brand	Type
Hartley's Brewery	Golden Star	Best Bitter
G. Ruddle	County Ale	Best Bitter, bottled
Alton Court Brewery	Diamond Pale Ale	Bitter
Alton Court Brewery	Queen's Ale	Bitter
Bents Brewery	King Hal	Bitter
H. & G. Simonds	Reading Pale Ale	Bitter
James Hole	Golden Age	Bitter
Tennant Brothers	Queen's Ale	Bitter
Thomas Ramsden	Riding	Bitter
Whitwell, Mark	Amber Ale	Bitter
Fremlins Ltd.	English Stock	Bitter Ale
The Ely Brewery	Golden Gleam	Bitter Ale
Moors' & Robson's	Red Cap	Bitter Beer
Buckley's Brewery	Special Welsh	Bitter, bottled
John Aitchison	Best Cellar	Bitter, bottled
West Auckland Brewery	Oak Tree	Bitter
Everard's	Red Crown	Burton Bitter
Duncan Gilmour	Windsor Ale	Draught Bitter
Newcastle Breweries	Exhibition Pale Ale	Draught Bitter
Lamb Brewery	Rouser	Strong Bitter
Source:
Brewery Manual 1953-1954, pages 382 - 394.

I’ve definitely not finished. I spotted some other categories I’ve missed when plucking this set.

Random Dutch beers (part nine)

Do you know what these little posts represent? An evening's drinking. Of new beers. I've been going all eclectic. Is that the right word? No idea. Let's just move on.

Pretty sure this this is another naked brewery. i.e. it has no kit. I may be able to tell you more once I've peeled the label off. The print is tiny.

I do this live. Typing as I tipple. Obviously not at exactly the same time. Hang on while I dive into

Cinema Brewers Paradiso Basil IPA 5.5% ABV
Some pale yellow shade, cornfield or some poetic crap like that, head breaking like fluffy clouds in strong winds. Or, pale yellow, head disappearing a bit. Some sort of vegetable smell. My suggestometer is indicating the possibility of basil. But is that just because of the name?

"Dolores. Can you sniff this?"

Dolores sniffs.

"Can you smell any herb or spice?"

Sniffs again. "No."

"Because it's called basil IPA."

"Definitely not basil."

Wow. Certainly bitter enough for an IPA up front. What is that? Mint. Like mint toothpaste mixed with the horrible green gunk that's the very last stuff to come out when you puke your stomach empty. Not that it's totally unpleasant. Nicer if you like this sort of hop. Maybe the small print on the label will give a clue. More medicinal than fruity. Laphroaig without the fun.

Jopen Ooost Indie Porter 6.5% ABV
Black. Black as the coal that belched sulphurous, choking smoke into our living room when I was a child, yet melted toy soldiers in such a gruesomely fascinating way. Slightly mucky black. Like coal. No, not like coal. That stuff's seriously black. Get anywhere near it and you're in danger of being mistaken for a Black and White Minstrel*. Quite fizzy, but forms a head as firm as merangue. Smells like an unemptied pub ashtray at 9:48 AM the following day. In a not totally unpleasant way. Not sure about this. Is that a stack of brown malt? Or am I talking out of the wrong end of my body again? Roasty as a Sunday joint left sunbathing all day in Alice Springs without suncream. Bit acrid, but drinkable.

"Dolores, do -"

"No, Ronald. I've got things to do. Like clean the toilets. When did you last do that?"

"That's a no then."


* Look it up on the internet, children.

Let's Brew Wednesday – 1958 Fullers Strong Ale

Another Fullers beer from the late 1950’s, this time a strong bottled beer. Though you may find the recipe rather familiar.

Everyone knows how Fullers proudly uphold the tradition of parti-gyling to this day, brewing Chiswick, London Pride, ESB and Golden Pride from one basic recipe. Back in the day, they did something similar with their dark beers. From that recipe they brewed X (or Hock) their Mild, OBE, their draught Burton and SA, a bottled Strong Ale. In reality a Mild Ale, a strong Mild Ale and a very strong Mild Ale.

I used to think that strong Mild had died on the Somme, but, as ever, reality is far more complicated. Southern Old Ales – like the one Harveys still brew – were really strong Milds. And many stronger dark bottled Ales, like Fullers SA, were stronger versions still. It made a lot of sense to brew this way. The market for stronger beers was relatively small. If your brew length was several hundred barrels, as at Fullers, it made sense to parti-gyle a small-batch beer with something else. This particular brew produced 53 barrels of SA, 9.74 of OBE and 277 of Mild.

I can’t really say much about the recipe, as it’s essentially identical to the last. And that you’ll need a good dose of caramel to get the right colour.

1958 Fullers Strong Ale
pale malt	12.00 lb	80.00%
flaked maize	1.25 lb	8.33%
no. 2 sugar	1.25 lb	8.33%
no. 3 sugar	0.50 lb	3.33%
Fuggles 90 min	1.50 oz
Fuggles 60 min	0.75 oz
Goldings Varieties 30 min	0.75 oz
OG	1072.4
FG	1016.1
ABV	7.45
Apparent attenuation	77.76%
IBU	35
SRM	30
Mash at	149º F
Sparge at	165º F
Boil time	90 minutes
pitching temp	60º F
Yeast	WLP002 English Ale

Branded IPA in 1953

Nope, wasn’t done. How could I have forgotten about IPA, everyone’s current favourite?

It’s not a huge set, then again it wasn’t that common for beers to be labelled IPA. And the term was used very loosely, covering very different beers. I’ll prove that in a moment. Why is that? Because, unlike today, people had no particular expectation about what an IPA would be like, other than being pale and reasonably hoppy. Hard to imagine such vague desires now.

Another problem is that the classic Burton IPAs weren’t always even called IPA. Often they were billed merely as “Pale Ale”, as was the case with Bass. Whose Red Triangle (trademark No. 1 in the UK) brand Pale Ale is a notable omission from the list. As is White Shield. Weird, that. I’d expect them to have been first on the list.

In table number two you can see for yourself how varied IPA was in terms of strength, ranging from 3% to 8% ABV. Pretty difficult to lump such dissimilar beers into a single description. Which is why I’m not going to bother. Most are, indeed, pretty pale. A colour below 20 is at the pale end of British Pale Ale’s colour spectrum. The one exception is from Vaux.

Sadly I only have analyses for two of the beers in the brand table, Brickwood’s Sunshine and Hope & Anchor’s Anchor. The former is a mid-strength example, the latter towards the limp end.

Branded IPA in 1953
Brewery	Brand	Type
Cheltenham & Hereford Breweries	Double Chelt	Bottled I.P.A.
Courage	Alton	I. P. A.
Abington Brewery	Double Ace	I.P.A.
Gibbs, Mew	Sarum Special	I.P.A.
Hope & Anchor	Anchor	I.P.A.
Vallances Brewery	Wessex	I.P.A.
Brickwood	Sunshine	I.P.A., bottled
Campbell, Praed	Cromwell Ale	I.P.A., bottled
Source:
Brewery Manual 1953-1954, pages 382 - 394.

Bottled IPA in the 1950's
Year	Brewer	Beer	Price per pint (d)	Acidity	OG	FG	ABV	App. Attenua- tion	colour
1956	Barclay Perkins	IPA	20	0.04	1030.5	1007.3	3.01	76.07%	19
1959	Usher	India Pale Ale	20	0.03	1032.3	1008.4	2.99	73.99%	18
1955	Vaux & Co	India Pale Ale	18	0.05	1032.9	1008.2	3.20	75.08%	30
1959	Greene King	India Pale Ale	20	0.04	1033.3	1010	3.02	69.97%	25
1956	Hope & Anchor	IPA	24	0.04	1036.6	1008	3.71	78.14%	18
1955	Hansons	IPA	22	0.04	1043.1	1007.8	4.60	81.90%	19
1955	Eldridge Pope	IPA	29	0.05	1044.1	1012.8	4.06	70.98%	20
1960	Brickwoods	Sunshine India Pale Ale	28	0.04	1044.7	1011.4	4.16	74.50%	25
1955	Flowers	IPA	28	0.05	1045.9	1009.7	4.71	78.87%	25
1957	McEwan	Export IPA	32.5	0.05	1046.4	1010.7	4.64	76.94%	22
1954	Courage	John Courage IPA	28	0.05	1050.4	1011.2	5.10	77.78%	20
1955	Bass	Pale Ale (Red Triangle)		0.04	1063.2	1009.6	7.02	84.81%	19
1955	Worthington	India Pale Ale (Green Shield)		0.05	1063.3	1009.4	7.06	85.15%	18
1955	Bass	Pale Ale (Blue Triangle)		0.07	1063.5	1003.1	7.96	95.12%	19
1955	Worthington	India Pale Ale (White Shield)		0.05	1063.7	1002.9	8.02	95.45%	18
	Average		24.5	0.05	1046.3	1008.7	4.88	79.65%	21.0
Sources:
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/002.
T & J Bernard's brewing records held at the Scottish Brewing Archive

I may still be able to drag some more material from this. I’m sure I’ve not done every beer type yet.

Random Dutch beers (part eight)

Just had a discussion with Alexei about the countries with the highest tea consumption. Very different to a beer consumption chart. Other than Ireland. And the UK. He has this weird interest in numbers, Alexei. God knows where he gets it from.

My roti consumed, I'm up for some beer consumption of my own. Starting with another from Pampus.

Pampus Hoppy Stout 6.3% ABV
They're really going the full craft hog and sinker, Pampus, nose to squeek. Fuck me. I was about to go style Nazi ther and declare this more like a Black IPA. ("Dolores, can you fetch my hair shirt?") Mostly that grapefruity sort of thing going on in the aroma. Can I detect some roast? Or is that just the power of suggestion, this being a Stout? Iron and sweat weirdly come to mind. Not sure if that's really from the beer or just my crazy head. Bit of liquorice at the back end. The salty type no-one likes except in Holland and a couple of other weird countries. I quite like it. Especially the way it saves the Stoutiness until right at the end. I'll be finishing this one.

Knowing Dolores's opinion of grapefruit beer, I'll not risk offering her a sip.

Another Pampus beer next. The magic bag is a bit bare. The beer fairy hasn't been for a while. Where the hell is she?

Pampus/La Fucina Just a Beer 6.3% ABV
I guess it is a collab. The Just a Beer name must be a piss take. It's anything but just a beer, having a whole load of shit in it. As it says on the label: "Made with an unorthodox combination of ingredients . . ." I can smell the lemon grass from several places - say Rotterdam and Utrecht - though I was tipped off by the lime green "lemon grass" on the label. I get ginger, too. I won't read the label too closely. That would spoil the fun. Haven't Oedipus (an Amsterdam brewery that is kitted up) done a lemon grass beer? Tastes like a load of other spices. Could be worse. Pretty sure I can manage the whole bottle.* Won't be buying a second.

Andrew is off at his mate's. A sure sign the Pils has run out. And the Amstel Bok. He polished that off when we were in London. And all but one can of Dolores's cider. Even he wouldn't dare take her last can. Alexei doesn't drink and anyway is otherwise disposed with some shouting upstairs. No fucking way Dolores would put this one anywhere near her lips. So you'll have to make do with just my opinion.


* Dolores hates waste.

A few days in London

I was in London with Dolores for a few days last week. Not to do anything very specific or beer-related. Other than attend the beer hacks annual dinner.

It’s about the one chance a year I get chance to meet my fellow beer writers. And there’s one the frustration of being a member of the British Guild of Beer Writers and living abroad: I miss out on the free piss-ups. Not that I’m resentful. Not openly, anyway.

It’s fun spending time in London with no particular beer agenda. I made zero effort to visit specific pubs and just drank in whichever one was close by. Not being one of these crafty type and having a wife who’s idea of beery perfection in Fullers London Pride, carefully selecting a pub isn’t that important. Most in town will provide the minimum requirement of one cask beer.

But I noticed something. Taylor Walker must have done some deal with Greene King because in several pubs, rather than the London Pride they used to sell they’d something called London Glory instead. Brewed by Greene King. But not in effing London. Bit of a cheek, if you ask me. And sad if it pushed the superior Pride off many bars.

Funniest moment was when Dolores asked for a pint of Bitter and I brought her something in a glass branded IPA.

“Have they served it in the wrong glass? I asked for Bitter. That’s not really an IPA, is it?”

“Yes.”

“You know I hate those IPAs that taste of grapefruit.”

“This isn’t like that.”

“Are you sure? It says IPA.”

“Don’t worry, it’s like a Bitter really. It’s Greene King IPA.”

“Why do they call it IPA, then?”

“That’s a good question with a very complicated answer. I’d just get on with drinking your beer if you don’t fancy an hour lecture on the history of IPA.”

Dolores must be the only person in the last 10 years not to be disappointed that Greene King IPA wasn’t like a modern IPA.

What else did we do? Went to Camden to buy me some shoes. A big problem now DMs have turned to total shit. The much superior Solovair shoes aren’t as widely available. As it costs 20 quid to get a pair sent to Holland, it made sense to drop by the shop and buy them directly. I’m terrible with shoes. I only ever have one pair, which I wear until they disintegrate. My last pair lasted almost three years, I reckon.

While in Camden, it only made sense to have a look at the market and the shops. Dolores had never been this way before. Trendy, in a beard and tattoo sort of way, but not too posh.

As we walked up Camden High Street the buildings started to look eerily familiar. Then I realised why. I’d looked at this spot on Streetview when researching the Camden Brewery.

“There’s an old brewery building just around the corner. Do you mind if I go and photograph it?”

“No problem, Ronald.”

It was only 50 metres past the Elephant’s Head, which is where we were headed for a beer. Dolores was probably glad it was just a few extra steps and not a trek right across town. I’m glad I made the effort, because I could see more of the brewery has survived than I realised.

“I’ve got a good story about the Elephant’s Head. But I’ll tell you after we’ve left.”

“Why?”

Why the Take Courage sign?

“You’ll realise after I tell you the tale.”

I spilled the beans on the way back to Camden tube station. I can remember being there once with Matt, Tym and Piers. I think we were in Camden to watch Hackney Five-O support the Higsons. That tells you how long ago it was. 30 years, at least. We were sitting close to the bar. The was an altercation between two blokes about to order. Then a horrible breaking noise followed by blood splattering on our table. The one bloke had glassed the other. Worst violence I’ve ever seen in a pub. The glasser ran and hid in the bog from the glassee’s mates. We quickly finished our drinks and left. It wasn’t going to get any nicer.

“What a lovely story, Ronald.”

I’d have never got her in the pub if I’d told her that earlier.

While Dolores checked out the shoe exhibition in the V & A, I indulged in one of my favourite pleasures: an afternoon in the pub over the paper and a few pints. And obviously observing - and listening to - my fellow drinkers. Nothing like a newspaper for disguising your nosiness.

Not sure there’s anything else I need to tell you. Other than shitting bricks on the way to the airport. We cut in rather finer than I would like. We got the airport just 40 minutes before our flight. Without boarding passes and with luggage to check in. Luckily we were flying from London City Airport, which is tiny. I still had time to buy a sandwich for the plane in Boots. Airside, but under two quid.

My last foreign trip of the year, that was. I had been planning on going to the Kerstbierfestival. Until I discovered that it was all-ticket this year and the day I wanted to go, Saturday, is sold out. Damn.

Random Dutch beers (part seven)

I'm going to be able to drag this out longer than you might expect. Thank you resurgent Dutch brewing for making my life easier. Even if some of the beers do make me want to retch. And not in a good way.

First, an old favourite. Well, sometimes favourite, sometimes just old. One year I bought half a dozen from Ton Overmars and every single bottle was different, ranging from sublime to crap. Not sure how they pulled that off in a single batch. Anyway, let's give the 2015 version a try.


't Ij Ijndejaars 9% ABV
It's a deep amber colour, with a jaunty enough head. At least after I beat it with my degasser for a minute or twelve. Smells spicy. A bit like Christmas, but not quite as celebratory. Spicy as cheap aftershave in the mouth, with some of that house yeast flavour. Which is pleasant enough. In moderation. Not bad, actually. I may pick up a few more bottles.

I'd ask Dolores her opinion, but she's busy writing Christmas cards. Not wise to interrupt her at such times.

Next one from a kitless brewer:



Pampus Wisselhop #01/2015 Sorachi Ace 6.7% ABV
Bit of a complicated name. I'm guessing this is a one off. What colour could it be but hazy amber?  The head's a bit skinny and white, its ribs sticking out. (Like me and my brother in the 1960's. I spent the whole of my childhood hungry. And all my meagre pocket money on food.) Despite all my beating. Rum punch is the nose. (While I'm on the family jag, one of the few times I saw my Mum pissed was after drinking a few rum punches in Kingston. She wasn't much of a drinker and those things had several double shots in them. Including overproof. She was just as sweet as ever, my Mum.) Finishes dead bitter in a slightly Izal sort of way. Nothing at all wrong with the beer. But probably not one I'd drink again. Just not that keen on the hop flavour. Personal taste thing.

I'd ask Dolores her opinion, but it would just annoy her. I know she hates beer like this. And she knows I know that.

"I know you'd hate the taste, but do you want to have a sniff of my beer, Dolores." I'm such a charmer.

"No."

You can't argue with that. At least not if you want to stay married.

Branded Light Ale in 1953

I told you there were some branded Light Ales in the list. And here’s proof.

You’re probably bored of me telling you this, but Light Ale was one of the most popular types of beer in the 1950’s. In the same way as Brown Ale was used as a mixer to perk up dodgy draught Mild, Light Ale was mixed with Ordinary Bitter. The advent of lower gravity keg beer, which offered similar advantages to Light and Bitter, but at a lower price, could well have hastened the demand for Light Ale.

By the time I started drinking in the 1970’s, Light and Bitter mostly seemed popular in the South, particularly in London. When I lived in the East End back then, I had my own variation. There was a rather nice Bass pub in Bow where I’d drink Draught Bass and White Shield mixed. Quite reasonably priced, considering the combined ABV.

Probably my favourite one on the list is Bernard’s 90/- India Pale Ale. Why? Because its name goes totally against what style Nazis would have you believe, namely that 90/- is a strong Scotch Ale and that IPA is strong. From what I can piece together, 90/- became a common name for a low-gravity bottled Pale Ale – Light Ale, really – between the wars. It’s really, really confusing, since some breweries had a 60/- Pale Ale that was stronger than their 90/-. It’s another demonstration of how arbitrary and inconsistent classifications were in the past.

These beers will have had gravities in the 1028-1035º range, with most closer to the bottom rather than the top. About 3% ABV was average. And a very pale colour for an English Pale Ale.

Seeing as none of those breweries has survived, it’s no shock that every single brand in the table has disappeared. The last survivor seems to have been Ridley’s Essex Light Ale, which was discontinued when Greene King bought Ridley’s up in 2005.

Almost no Light Ales in the old style are currently brewed. A big change from a time when literally every brewer had one in their portfolio. Courage Light Ale is the only one I can think of. Must try it in the very unlikely case I stumble across it.

Branded Light Ale in 1953
Brewery	Brand	Type
Hull Brewery	Amber Ale	Light
South Wales and Monmouthshire United Clubs Brewery	Club Special	Light
T. D. Ridley & Sons	Essex	Light Ale
Cheltenham & Hereford Breweries	Little Chelt	Light Ale
Dutton's	Green Label	Light Ale
Dyer, Meakin Breweries	Solan	Light Ale
Flowers Breweries	Luton	Light Ale
George Gale	Horndean	Light Ale
John Richdale	Wellington	Light Ale
Meux's Brewery	London Pale Ale	Light Ale
Style & Winch	Farmer Ale	Light Ale
T. & J. Bernard	90/- India Pale Ale	Light Ale
The Ely Brewery	Druid's Ale	Light Ale
The Ely Brewery	T. V.	Light Ale
The Stroud Brewery	All Bright	Light Ale
Wm. Murray	Wee Murray	Light Ale
Truman	Eagle	Light Ale
Hunt, Edmunds	Banbury Cross	Light Ale, bottled
Alton Court Brewery	Golden Hop	Light Bitter
G. Ruddle	Golden Brew	Light bitter, bottled
Hull Brewery	Golden	Light Dinner Ale
Andrew Buchan's Breweries	Golden Hop	Light Draught
Wm. Younger	Holyrood	Light Sparkling Ale
Source:
Brewery Manual 1953-1954, pages 382 - 394.

I might be done now. I’ll need to check.

Random Dutch beers (part six)

I'm getting quite into this beer reviewing lark. It's the perfect way to post. No research, no numbers to interfere with. All I need to do is drink beer and write bollocks about it.

First off, a new beer from Christoffel:


Christoffel W-IPA 6.5% ABV
Billed as a Weissen IPA. the colour is a surprisingly deep copper, hazy and with a big marshmallow head. Though that's probably the result of me knocking the condition out of it. There's an American hop thing going on in the aroma, but fairly subtle. In the gob it's . . . just . . . weird. Tastes like they might have used a wheat beer yeast. I'm sure I can spot cloves in amongst the US hops and overwhelming bitterness. A classic fusion of flavours that refuse to cooperate and fight it out with flick knives in your mouth.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores."

"No, I saw the face you pulled when you drank it."

One from highly-rated Uiltje next.


Het Uiltje Dwerguil 5% ABV, €2.25 for 33cl
Triple dryhopped European lager, they call it. It's mucky pale yellow. Smells hoppy. But not the fruity US type. More the trendy new weird ones. Is that lime or toilet cleaner I'm getting there? That's toilet cleaner in a toilet. Lots of hop flavour in the mouth. Probably too much. Bitter to the point of sourness. Not for me. It made me nostalgic for grapefruit beers. The lack of much to counterbalance the hops doesn't help.

"Do you want to try my beer? It's a 5% Lager."

Andrew sips gingerly.

"Does it have American hops in it? Does it? It has that fruity smell."

"It feels like I've got something sticking to my tongue."

"It's not something you could drink lots of, Dad."

"Do you you want to try this, Dolores?"

"No, I don't want to spoil my mouth."

"It's not worth finishing, Dad."

I have to agree.