Messrs. Shepherd Neame, Limited

I was searching the British Newspaper Archive for stuff Bout Shepherd Neame. I was hopimg to find an advert listing their beers as I was having trouble working out what some of them were.

I could only find ads with the sort of information I was looking for that were pre-WW I. Too early for me. But I didfind quite a long article in the local paper about the company.

"MESSRS. SHEPHERD NEAME, LIMITED
A History Which Spans Four Centuries
Mr. Harry S. Neame’s Fifty Years’ Connection with the Company For nearly 250 years the Brewing Company of Messrs. Shepherd Neame, Limited, has brought trade and employment to Faversham, and throughout these years the prosperity of the town has naturally been linked very closely with the progress of the Company and the industry in which it is engaged.

Established in 1698.
The achievements of the Company are something of which not only those connected with it, but the townspeople as a whole, are justly proud, for its history spans four centuries, and records show that there was a brewery on the same site for many years previously. It is interesting to note that 18, Court Street, which now forms part of the Company’s offices, was once the residence of Richard Colwell, brewer, who died in 1524.

It was in 1698 — the Bank of England was then only four years old, and William and Mary were on the throne — that the present brewery was established on land adjoining what was known as the Common Conduit. The stream now flows underground, but its name is preserved in Conduit Street.

The wine and spirit vaults and stores are in Mill Place, where it is believed there was formerly a water mill driven by the Conduit. The land on which garages have been built was known as Hog Island, and from descriptions from old deeds it was doubtless formerly surrounded by water"
Faversham Times and Mercury and North-East Kent Journal - Saturday 04 February 1939, page 4.

When I visited the brewery to snalp their records, I was told that the brewery is a good bit older than 1698. They keep finding new documents that move the date back. I think they said they'd evidence of its existence from the late 16th century.

"Pure Hops and Malt Only.
With the passing of the years and the growth of the business, many changes had to be made, particularly in regard to the buildings, which have been added to and reconstructed from time to time. But the quality of the firm’s products has never varied, and the Company is famous for its Pale Ales, brewed from the best hops and malt only.

The Company makes its own malt at the maltings in Faversham, and a large proportion of barley grown in the immediate neighbourhood is used; while all the hops used are grown in East and Mid-Kent. These facts alone show the extent to which the Company assists farmers and hop-growers in this part of the County.

It is believed that beer was originally brewed in Faversham because of the quality of the water from the springs which abound in the neighbourhood, and the characteristic flavour of Messrs. Shepherd Neame’s beers is maintained by the use of water of exceptional purity pumped from an artesian well 200 feet deep, situated in the middle of the brewery premises."
Faversham Times and Mercury and North-East Kent Journal - Saturday 04 February 1939, page 4.

Pure malt and hops only. Sort of true. Their Pale Ales were. But not their other beers. They all contained sugar. And even the Pales Ales weren't 100% grain, as they contained a small amount of malt extract.

It's difficult to be sure where the hops came from. Only the grower or dealer's name is given. But, as they're in the middle of hop country, it would be odd not to use Kent hops.

"Old Methods-—Modern Plant.
Although the method of production is old, the plant has been renewed from time to time and brought right up to date. For instance, the Brewery was re-built in 1896 under the supervision of an eminent brewery architect, Mr. William Bradford, and the old machinery was replaced by modern equipment. The beer bottling stores in Conduit Street were built in 1899 and the growth of this branch of the Company’s business has continually demanded additions and improvements to the buildings and plant.

A number of old buildings which, owing to their shape and structure, were known as Noah’s Ark, were demolished about 1921 and an exchange of land was made for the improvement of North Lane. When these alterations were made the Directors had in mind that future developments would require increased accommodation, and this has now matured in the large building which has been erected during the past few months over Conduit Street. A new bottling unit of the very latest type is now being placed in this building"
Faversham Times and Mercury and North-East Kent Journal - Saturday 04 February 1939, page 4.

They were probably later grateful for those investments, especially in bottling. Once the war had started, it was more than ten years before brewers were able to invest in plant and equipment.

Like most breweries of the time, Shepherd Neame owned an estate of tied houses.

"Management of Houses.
The Company owns a large number of licensed houses which spread over East Kent and into Sussex. Much has been done in recent years by the brewing trade to improve the accommodation of licensed houses, and customers at Messrs. Shepherd Neame’s houses will admit that the Company has done its share in carrying out structural alterations and rebuilding on modern lines. The erection of the Duke of Kent on the Coastal Road is a striking example"
Faversham Times and Mercury and North-East Kent Journal - Saturday 04 February 1939, page 4.

Their estate now stretches further. They've several pubs in London, for example.

Now some boring stuff about the board which I've included for the sake of completeness.

"The Chairman and Managing Director of Messrs. Shepherd Neame, Limited, is Mr. Harry S. Neame. The Vice-Chairman is Mr. Jasper B. Neame, and the other Directors are Mr. L. H. Finn, Mr. K. A. W. Johnston and Mr. Laurence B. Neame.

The Chairman and Managing Director.
The Chairman has been associated with the brewery for a period of over fifty years and last year, on the occasion of his jubilee, the past and present members of the staff and employees at the brewery and various stores were entertained to dinner. His late father, Mr. Percy B. Neame, joined the partnership of Messrs. Shepherd Neame and Co. in 1866. Mr. Harry Neame, who became an operative brewer and maltster, succeeded his father in the management of the brewery, and has been Chairman and Managing Director of the present private Company since its formation in 1914, a period of about 25 years. The greatest development and progress in the history of the brewery has been made during the time that Mr. Harry S. Neame has been its head.

Mr. Neame, on behalf of his Company, has always taken a personal and active interest in the proceedings of the Brewers' Society, the Kent Brewers’ Union and kindred retail associations. He is one of the elected delegates from the Kent Brewers’ Union to the Brewers’ Society, and has always adopted the policy of promoting a proper understanding between the wholesale and retail trades, the interests of which are so closely allied, and to bring the brewer in personal contact with his tenants.

Mr. Neame’s elder son, Mr. Jasper B. Neame, who joined the Company in 1925, is Vice-Chairman and Head Brewer. Mr. Laurence B. Neame, his younger son, is also on the Board of Directors and is responsible for the management of the Beer Bottling Department. Mr. K. A. W. Johnston is head of the Wine and Spirit Department"
Faversham Times and Mercury and North-East Kent Journal - Saturday 04 February 1939, page 4.

Followed by some boring stuff about people:

"Staff Doubled in Present Century.
During the last forty years the number of employes in all departments has been more than doubled. As mentioned above, No. 18, Court Street, which was formerly the residence of the late Mr. Charles Graham, the brewer, is now used as offices.

The Secretary of the Company is Mr. E. M. Edwards, who joined the firm in 1896, and has thus been associated with the Brewery for a period of 42 years. He has held the office of Secretary since 1919. The staff and employes have a remarkable record of long service with the Company, there being at present a large number who have been employed for 25 years and upwards.

May the firm of Messrs. Shepherd. Neame Ltd., which is one of the oldest. Brewing Companies in the country, enjoy increased prosperity in the years that lie ahead."
Faversham Times and Mercury and North-East Kent Journal - Saturday 04 February 1939, page 4.

 Breweries are probably one of the few industries where people work for 30 or 40 years. What sane person would give up a job in a brewery?

Kristen's shorts and socks

The title - and the photo  - say it all.

Let's Brew - 1956 Shepherd Neame ESXA

What a year 1956 was. Mostly because that’s when I was born.

This beer was brewed just five days after that wonderful event. I’ll be honest with you. I’m not exactly sure what this beer was marketed as. Extra Strong Xmas Ale, perhaps? It was brewed in late October, which would be about right for a Christmas beer.

It certainly looks like a Burton Ale type of beer, with its gravity in the 1050’s. I’m guessing that it was a bottled beer, though I can’t be certain. Unfortunately, there’s nothing that looks like it in the Whitbread Gravity Book.

ESXA was brewed in a parti-gyle with three other beers: DB, LDA (both at 1029.4º) and Br (1026.3º). DB and Br were both Brown Ales, as far as I can tell. LDA I assume stands for Light Dinner Ale, making it a Light Ale. Presumably by putting the all dark sugar in one of the coppers.

Why is there a small amount of wheat malt in the grist? Probably for head retention. It doesn’t appear in their Bitters, but does in these bottled beers and their Mild. As in many 1950’s beers, there’s a small amount of malt extract used, presumably for extra enzymes. The No. 2 invert sugar is a substitute for a proprietary sugar called Wortex.

The hops are listed as “Sh” which I take to mean that they were from their own hop gardens. Which would make them Kent hops. As usual, I’ve interpreted that as a combination of Fuggles and Goldings.

1956 Shepherd Neame ESXA
pale malt	8.00 lb	74.77%
wheat malt	0.50 lb	4.67%
malt extract	0.10 lb	0.93%
No. Invert 3 sugar	1.25 lb	11.68%
No. Invert 2 sugar	0.75 lb	7.01%
caramel 1000 SRM	0.10 lb	0.93%
Fuggles 105 mins	1.00 oz
Fuggles 60 mins	0.75 oz
Goldings 30 mins	0.75 oz
OG	1053
FG	1018
ABV	4.63
Apparent attenuation	66.04%
IBU	30
SRM	17
Mash at	152º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	105 minutes
pitching temp	61.75º F
Yeast	a Southern English Ale yeast

Still time to save money

As I have a sale on my classic UK styles (all four of them) books.

I've knocked 15% off Strong!, Bitter! and Mild!Plus. And a massive 20% Off Porter!

Buy them all and you'll save oodles. The exact amount depending on your currency.

Alexei really does need vodka money. "Are you going to the off licence, dad?" he says. Which is code for: "Will you buy me a bottle of vodka?". It breaks my heart when I have to say: "No vodka today, Lexie. Those mean bastards on the internet aren't buying my books."

UK beer sales by style 1971 - 2016

Time for another nice graph.

I go through phases of playing around turning my numbers into graphs. But eventually I return to huge tables of figures. That's just the way I am.

I occasionally read reports that Mild is undergoing a revival. Sadly, that just isn't borne out by the numbers. Mild's share of beer sales fell every year between 1971 and 2012. Since then it's been stable at a tiny 0.3% share. It doesn't really have much scope for falling further, as that would effectively mean extinction.

Sales of cask beer has been very stable since the turn of the millenium at around 8%. Which is quite good goin as the percentage of beer sold on draught has been declining. Over the same period sales of draught Lager have fallen from 33% of the total to 27.9%. Though that fall has been offet by the increase in off sales, where proportionally more Lager is drunk.

Sources:
“The Brewers' Society Statistical Handbook 1988” page 17
“The Brewers' Society Statistical Handbook 1990” page 17
Statistical Handbook of the British Beer & Pub Association 2003, p. 21
Statistical Handbook of the British Beer & Pub Association 2005, p. 17
Statistical Handbook of the British Beer & Pub Association 2011, p. 17
Statistical Handbook of the British Beer & Pub Association 2016, p. 15 - 16

I'll probably be pestering you with more of this crap over the next couple of weeks.

Ale & Stout vs Lager sales 1960 - 2016

One of my recent free Fridays was spent scanning the BBPA Statistical Handbook. Loads of lovely juicy numbers in there.

All ripe for harvesting. But being off galivanting south of the equator, I'd not had time to sharpen my scythe and take to the fields. Though obviously you don't harvest fruit with a scythe. OK, forget about that analogy. I've got numbers, you're going to see them.

If you can remember back a few weeks, I scored a free copy of the 2017 BBPA Statistical Handbook through the British Guild of Beer Writers. If anyone does, I deserve the freebie. Sad to say, it's one of my favourite books. I can still remember the day Henry gave me a copy of the 1928 Brewers' Almanack (the previous incarnation of the book). It changed my view of British beer forever.

And gave me a stack of numbers to play with. Not that I needed any encouragement to get all hot and sticky with numbers.

Today's digital fun was in the form of beer style share. The 2017 Handbook has the figures for the market share of Lager and Ale & Stout for every year from 2000, plus 1970, 1980 and 1990. Interesting. But I like to take a longer view. And because I have a collection of the Handbooks and Almanacks, I can go back further and fill in the gaps.

This time in graph rather than rough number form.

Don't you just love data?

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1982 Adnams Tally Ho

One final Tally Ho recipe, this time from the 1980’s. Will there be any radical changes from the last one?

Er, yes and no. The ingredients are the same: mild malt, crystal malt, No. 3 invert sugar, Laevuline and Sucramel. As before, I’ve substituted No. 2 invert sugar for the latter two proprietary sugars. Though the ingredients are the same, their proportions have changed again. There’s more sugar and less malt this time.

The big change, however, is in the hopping. The quantity of hops has been halved, reducing the IBUs from 31 to just 15. It would be interesting to look at the intervening years to see if the drop happened all at once or gradually. Clearly it would have left the beer tasting very different.

The OG has returned to 1075º, up 2 points from 1977. But the FG is a lot higher, causing the ABV to fall. I imagine that the real FG would have been lower as presumably it received some sort of secondary conditioning.

1982 Adnams Tally Ho
mild malt	11.25 lb	72.58%
crystal malt 80 L	1.50 lb	9.68%
No. 3 Invert sugar	1.50 lb	9.68%
No. 2 Invert sugar	1.25 lb	8.06%
Fuggles 90 mins	0.50 oz
Fuggles 60 mins	0.50 oz
Goldings 30 mins	0.50 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.25 oz
OG	1075
FG	1033
ABV	5.56
Apparent attenuation	56.00%
IBU	15
SRM	20
Mash at	149º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	90 minutes
pitching temp	61º F
Yeast	WLP025 Southwold

Autumn sale still on

It's a great chance to pick up my classic UK styles (all four of them) books.

I've knocked 15% off Strong!, Bitter! and Mild!Plus. And a massive 20% Off Porter!

Buy several. Please, buy several. Alexei really needs a new winter coat. The other kids laugh at his raggedy old one. And Andrew needs beer. Lots of beer, now he's a student.

Restrictions on wine and spirits in WW I

It wasn’t just beer that had to endure the interference of the Food Controller. Other drinks had similar problems.

I’ve just been moving my books into my new study. For the first time in years my books are reasonably well sorted and accessible. It’s reminded me of many books I’d forgotten I had. One being the snappily titled British Food Control.

Someone asked me the other day about spirits during WW II and I realised that, while I knew loads about what happened with beer during the wars, I was much sketchier on other alcoholic drinks.

“Under the Output of Beer Restriction Acts, described in detail in an earlier chapter, a small reduction, estimated to save 150,000 tons of imported material in each year, had been effected. The tightening of this very mild restriction had been one of the measures contemplated by the Board of Trade officials in November 1916; in a memorandum submitted to the new Food Controller in the last days of that year, it was pointed out that while in this country brewing was allowed up to 70 per cent. and more of the pre-war level, the corresponding percentage in Northern Germany had just been reduced From 35 to 25, of which 14 was required for the Army. Proposals for a further reduction of brewing were made to the War Cabinet by Lord Devonport in January, but not till the end of March was a definite order ready for issue. On 29th March 1917 the Food Controller made the first of the Intoxicating Liquor (Output and Delivery) Orders, by which, as from 1st April, each brewer's production was reduced to 28 per cent, of his pre-war number or 33.33 per cent. of his 1915-16 number of standard barrels, plus an uncertain addition for military canteens; to avoid turning the public from beer to stronger liquors, the issues of wine and spirits from bond were at the same time limited to 50 per cent, of the 1916 issue.”
Beveridge, Sir William H. (1928), Control of cereals in British Food Control, Humphry Milord, London, pp 100 - 101.

April 1917 was when the really strict restrictions on brewing kicked in. It’s clear something similar happened with wine and spirits, with the amount available being cut to 50% of the 1916 figure.

There had already been massive restrictions on distilling, but not to conserve food:

“The distilling of fresh spirit without a permit by the Minister of Munitions had been prohibited by a Defence of the Realm Regulation; the Minister of Munitions, however, was interested in the production of acetone rather than in the conservation of food, and pot stills which were not suited for making acetone had been permitted to continue distilling. These permits were now, at the instance of the Food Controller, withdrawn, and the distilling of raw spirits was stopped entirely.”
Beveridge, Sir William H. (1928), Control of cereals in British Food Control, Humphry Milord, London, pp 101.

Acetone was used in the production of cordite, which was a propellant for shells and bullets. Obviously pretty important during WW I. So it seems that there had been limited distilling in the early war years and none after April 1917.

Later in 1917 the restrictions of beer production were loosened, but on wine they were removed altogether:

“The restrictions on the issue of wine from bond were also relaxed; issues being allowed at double the 1916 rate by an order of 28th November and being allowed without limit by an order of 3rd June 1918. The restrictions on spirits remained, the line taken by the Government being that people might change from beer to spirits and should not be encouraged to do so by being able to get spirits easily. Those who could afford to drink wine should be encouraged to do so and leave beer for the poorer consumers.”
Beveridge, Sir William H. (1928), Control of cereals in British Food Control, Humphry Milord, London, pp 102.

Odd, isn’t it, how there were no restrictions on the drink of the better off, wine? Especially as wine was all imported, unlike beer.

It seems that people did notice the special treatment given to wine:

“In conserving cereals the Ministry of Food found itself dragged Into the thickest of the temperance controversy. Hardly any other subject produced for Mr. Clynes so thorny a crop of questions in Parliament, or called for more agility in picking his way between those who pressed him in vain to regard all brewing as an avoidable waste of food-stuffs, and those who demanded more beer for munitions workers or for agricultural labourers at harvest time, or for the general public at all times. Reduction in the output of beer meant not infrequently that supplies in particular houses became exhausted and, when replenished, were drunk up again in a few days by patrons eager not to miss their share. Fixing of the retail price of beer without control of the wholesale price led to complaints that the publican could not get a sufficient margin on which to live. The different and varying treatment of spirits and of wine had to be justified again and again.”
Beveridge, Sir William H. (1928), Control of cereals in British Food Control, Humphry Milord, London, pp 103.

It must have been fun trying to find a pub with beer. At least they’d probably have wine. If you could afford it.

Random Dutch beers (part 52)

Apologies for the long gaps between posts in this series. I generally write them at the weekend and I haven't been home that much recently.

I'm making an effort to tidy up my corner of the living room. The books have pretty well all been moved upstairs to my new library/study room. they aren't quite all arranged as I'd like. But at least they're upstairs.

I also need to tackle the beer pile on the living room floor. There must be a hundred bottles. Including a load of this season's Bokbiers. I really need to taste them. Time to crack one open.

Cornelis Herfstbok, 6.5% ABV
It's a slightly muddy grown colour. That's my fault. I didn't realise it was bottle-conditioned. The aroma is malty caramel. Like treacle toffe, but without the treacle. In the mouth, it's fairly neutral, creamy, with the faintest hint of bitterness at the end. And a touch of metal. It's not horrible, at least. And there are no obvious faults.

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

"In a minute." She's fiddling with something in the kitchem

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

"No thank you."

Dolores gives my beer a try. "Mmm, that's OK. Not something I'd choose, but OK."

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

"No thanks."

I shouldn't have bought all those cans of Grolsch yesterday. No need for them to bother with my stuff.

Time for another Bok. This time from a big Lager brewery.

Bavaria Bokbier, 6.5% ABV
I'll be honest, there are two reasons I bought this beer. I really like the label and it was dirt cheap: 2.75 euros for six 30cl bottles. I'm not usually keen on Bavaria's beers. Slightly caramelly aroma.  Quite sweet in the mouth, but also quite bland. Not as nasty or as ridiculously sweet as I expected.

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

"It's very sweet, isn't it?"

"I was worried it would be sweeter. It's good for cooking with. It's in the gravy."

Chile there I go

As I come down the stairs I notice a strange green glow. The receptionist is cowering under his desk.

Could this be my worst fear? Have Kristen gone full nuclear?

Shielding my eyes, I enter the breakfast room. Everyone is by the window, behind a lead shield. The only seat left is next to Kristen. I pathetically attempt to shield my grillocks with two spoons. And rotate my head from side to side to stop one side burning off. But maybe I’m just rotissering myself.

“Nice socks, Kristen.”

Fernanda and Carlo are taking the same car to the airport. It gives us a little longer to chat. We part inside the airport.

Once I’ve dumped my check in bag, I pick up some sweets for Alexei. It’s a good way of getting rid of the $5,000 note.

Just as I’m approaching the immigration booth someone shouts "Ron, Ron." It makes me jump a bit. Do they realise I’ve two keys of coke in my carry on? I look around, nervously. It’s two of my fellow conference attendees in the queue.

We bump into each other in the duty free. They’re tasting whisky and invite me to join them. They’re both Argentinian heading back to Buenos Aires. The one has a brewery there. Very tiny. But he’s also studying.

One tells me the simultaneous Spanish translation of my talk wasn’t great. They missed out all of the swearing. “It totally ruined it.” I believe him. The swearing was an integral part. Like the mortal in a wall. The thing that holds all the boring bricks together.

I ask if they fancy having a drink. As you do. But they’re cutting it really fine. Their gate closes in 20 minutes. I walk with them towards their gate a bit, sussing out my bar options. We say our goodbyes and I plonk myself down at the bar of Ruby Tuesday. I know. But it’s here and has alcohol.

I order a pisco sour. The barkeep says something. I don’t quite get it. She repeats it then, realising I’m an idiot or non-Spanish speaker, points at the menu: “Alcoholic drinks only with food” in English. OK.

I order the smallest portion of deep fried mozzarella sticks and a pisco sour Peruano. Which she makes I front of me? What is that powder? There’s still loads left in the mixer after she’s filled my glass. I wonder what’s going to happen to that? It doesn’t look very efficient.

Everton Arsenal is on the TVs behind the bar. Depressingly, the Arses are winning. And are playing quite well, much as I hate to say that. It’s much like being  in the US, with the tellies behind the bar showing games.

When I’m half way through my 8 sticks, I order a second pisco sour. The barkeep just pours more stuff into the mixer.

This time the leftovers don’t stay in the mixer. It’s need for something else. She pours it carefully into a cup. Then makes some sort of drink from fresh strawberries and a shitload of sugar. She tastes it by using a straw as a pipette. No more adjustments, so she must have got it right first time

Six sticks in, I order my third pisco sour. She pours the leftover mix in the mug into the mixer and adds more shit. I’ve no problem with that. I wouldn’t want to see booze thrown away.

I’ve still half a cheese thing when I order my fourth pisco sour. I really don’t feel like eating any more, but I force it down. My drink, miraculously, lasts until it’s time to head for my gate.

I picked up two bottles of pisco in the duty free. One for Andrew, one for Alexei. I hope they enjoy them. And that Dutch customs don’t notice that I’m over the limit.

The camera in the nose is working for takeoff. You can see the runway speed by. After the traditional interminable taxi. Unfortunately, the views it gives of the Andes are a bit flat.

Soon I’m up to my earpits in crappy, light films. My usual diet on planes. We’re fed some not very good food, I grab a port, a wine, a champagne and a cognac with it. To take away the taste, honestly.

Four hours into the flight, when the cabin lights go out, I decide its kip time. I manage to drop off reasonably well. Not the most restful sleep I’ve ever had, but good enough. I get up an hour or two before I expect breakfast to be served. And watch another film. Some crap about an American family smuggling weed from Mexico. It passes the time in a numbing way.

Thirty minutes before brekkie, there’s an announcement. First in French. Unfortunately, I get the gist “Urgence médicale” is pretty obvious. Medical emergency. We’re diverting to an airport whose name I don’t quite catch in French. When the announcement is made in English, I still don’t get the name. But I can where it must be on the flight tracker: The Azores.

It takes us about 45 minutes to get there and land. Another 30 minutes to offload. Then they tell us we’ll have to get off while they refuel. Buses take us to the terminal. Where nothing is open. Unsurprisingly, as it’s the middle of the night here, around 3 AM.

I hear someone say” “So you’re on the same flight, Ron.”

It’s Dorothea Wächtler. She sits next to me and we start chatting. Should make the wait go more quickly.

“Refueling will take at least an hour.” I say, trying to be realistic. “I know that I’ll miss my connection.”

Dorothea has a connecting flight to Munich, which she’ll also miss. Then she has to drive to Bamberg. I don’t envy her.

“I’m not worried. There are plenty of flights to Amsterdam. I was much more careful on the way out, leaving myself 5 hours for the change.” I shouldn’t tempt fate.

“How did you get into beer? When was it?” She asks when we’re sat on the bus back to the plane.

“Ages ago. In the early 1970’s. I went to the first modern beer festival, Covent Garden in 1975.”

Dorothea is either impressed or appalled. It’s hard to read her face.

“Then I read Michael Jackson’s World Guide to Beer and my life changed forever.”

There’s that look again.

There’s nothing but apples and bread that I’d eat from the breakfast. The pancakes struggling under waves of sweet gunk aren’t going anywhere near my mouth. The orange juice is unnaturally sweet, too. My body is longing for eggs and bacon and I get this crap.

I tell the stewardess I’ll miss my connection. “What should I do?” “Go to one on the transfer machines and book another flight.” Great. That doesn’t sound too bad.

We land at just before 11:00. I’m feeling a wee bit knacked. Despite the sleep.

Pretty soon I’m on a machine, my passport scanned and looking at the rebooking options. The earliest is at 15:30. But that’s changing in Toulouse. Which is just about 100% in the wrong direction. Next soonest is via Birmingham. The earliest – and only – direct option is a KLM flight at 20:15. Fuck. I’ll be in Charles de Gaulle all effing day.

OK, that look like the only option. I start going through the rebooking process. It allocates be a middle seat. I hate that, so I try to change it. But there are no other free seats. It looks like I got the last one. I got the print boarding card panel. But instead of a boarding card it spits out a piece of paper saying “irregularities with checked in baggage – go to desk”.

Magic. Is my seat booked or not? There’s a crowd of 40 or 50 people queueing at the desk. But luckily I can use the Sky Priority lane. There only seven people waiting there. But most of the people behind the desk are on the phone, trying to sort out something. It takes ages for each passenger. It’s 40 minutes before it’s my turn. I hope there’s still a seat.

I have been rebooked. Don’t know what that shit about luggage was as they just print my boarding pass and give me a 15 euro food voucher. Then I’m off to pier 2F.

But, as I’m passing from non-Schengen to Schengen, my luggage has to be scanned. They test my duty free in some weird machine. Without opening it they can tell it’s just booze and not an explosive or some other nasty.

Once I’m through passport control it’s a short jump on the little train. Then a convoluted walk of around a mile up and down stairs and along weird corridors. With nothing as civilised as a moving walkway. This airport is so utterly and totally dreadful.

2F has even fewer options than 2E, where I spent a miserable 5 hours last week. This is shit. The only refreshment opportunities are two cafeteria-like places. And the shop. And the duty-free.

I get a couple of cans and two baguettes in the shop. It comes to 17 euros. That voucher didn’t last long. I find a random seat and power up my laptop. I ought to tell Dolores what’s happening. After a bit of fiddling around, I get online and email Dolores. Then go on Twitter to say how crap Charles de Gaulle airport. Plenty agree with me.

Every time I need to have a waz, or buy a beer, I have to pack up my laptop and lug all my crap with me. I had two bags to start, now I’ve one with sarnies and beer in it. What a pain.

I’m thinking of buying some miniatures, when I notice they have 200 ml bottles of Bell’s for 7.20 euros. That’s not bad value. I get it and a half litre bottle of diet coke from the shop. I’m very health conscious, me. And a couple of cans and a sarnie. That’s me set.

Back at another random seat. Somewhere quiet, I guzzle down half the coke and discretely refill with Bells. He presto. Coke plus. That’ll keep me warm through the next dozen episodes of Rick & Morty.

The wifi is weird here. Quite crap, varying from zero to bugger ale bandwidth. And it keeps dropping out altogether. It’s as if they’re trying to encourage you to choose the pay service. Why would they do that?

Watching Rick and Morty makes this whole experience bearable and fleeting. Exactly what I wanted.

The grandiose concrete crap reminds me of the Washington Metro. Which can be equally impractical (ludicrously far underground at points, probably to act as a nuclear bunker. Ditto the huge spaces underground.)  Though nothing can match Charles de Gaulle for form over function, pretence over practicality, pride over prejudice. Crap in just about everything. Including the placement of the bogs: downstairs. Very wheelchair friendly.

The time doesn’t drag too badly. Especially after my whisky investment. Now I think about it, the lack of a bar has probably saved me 70 to 80 euros.

I have to change seat once, when the wifi disappears and refuses to reconnect. What fun it is.

At least my flight is on time. Even better, my bag is already on the carousel by the time I get there. This part of the journey has gone to plan.

I jump in a taxi. No way I’m getting the bus. I’m way too tired for that. Dolores seems relieved that I’ve made it home. The kids look pleased, too. After I give them their pisco.

What a nightmare of a journey. 30 hours from leaving my hotel to falling through my front door. It was worth it, mind. Chile was ace.



Disclaimer:
My trip was paid for by Copa Cervezas de América
http://www.copacervezasdeamerica.com  

Let's Brew - 1977 Adnams Tally Ho

I never imagined that I’d publish recipes from my own drinking days. I used to think that only pre-WW I stuff was interesting. Then got fascinated by the interwar period. And finally realised I’m interested in everything.

I definitely drank Adnams in 1977, though probably not Tally Ho. It

wasn’t usually sold on cask. This is what the 1989 Good Beer Guide says:

“Tally Ho is a bottled beer produced in draught form for a few outlets at Christmas. It has an original gravity of 1075.”

Because I only got to drink Adnams beer in the free trade or at festivals, I don’t think I tried anything other than the Mild and Bitter.

Turning to the beer itself, the recipe hasn’t changed a huge amount since 1967. It’s still just mild malt, crystal malt and sugar. The latter remaining a  combination of No. 3 invert and two proprietary sugars, Laevuline and Sucramel. For which I’ve again substituted No. 2 invert.

The only real difference in the recipe is that the proportion of sugar and crystal malt has fallen and that of mild malt increased. The hopping has remained at the same level, though the varieties used are still a mystery. Something English is all I know.

1977 Adnams Tally Ho
mild malt	12.75 lb	83.61%
crystal malt 80 L	0.75 lb	4.92%
No. 3 Invert sugar	1.00 lb	6.56%
No. 2 Invert sugar	0.75 lb	4.92%
Fuggles 105 mins	1.00 oz
Fuggles 60 mins	1.00 oz
Goldings 30 mins	1.00 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.25 oz
OG	1073
FG	1026
ABV	6.22
Apparent attenuation	64.38%
IBU	31
SRM	15
Mash at	150º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	160 minutes
pitching temp	60º F
Yeast	WLP025 Southwold

Chile barbecue

I'm feeling a bit rough when I awake. I drag myself downstairs for breakfast and find Kristen there. I tell him about losing my watch. Whilst shading my eyes from the glare of his socks.

"It's not a big deal. It only cost 10 euros new. And that was before the emergency repair." I replaced the back that I lost on the flight over with a bit of my business card, held on with selotape. It looks dead classy. Though it's much less reliable at keeping time, for some reason. "I looked all over my hotel room, but can't find it. I can't imagine anyone would have stolen it."

I ask Kristen where there's an ATM. I need more cash. He gives me directions to a supermarket that has one. He seems to know what he's talking about. He's been here several times before.

A shower should liven me up. I turn on the shower to run warm while I brush my teeth. When I get in the shower, I notice something on floor of the cubicle. It's my watch. I quickly grab it before it gets too wet. The cardboard back isn't much in the way of protection. How the hell did it get into the shower? I guess that’s a mystery that will never be solved.

I’m told there were 31 pisco sours on our bill yesterday. I feel like I drank all of them.

I go off in search of the supermarket with the ATM, planning to pick up some grocery stuff, too. It's further than I expected. Pretty sure Kristen said to turn right onto Bilbao. After 400 metres or so I still haven't spotted the supermarket. Obviously I've come the wrong way. Or Kristen's directions were crap. I'm inclined towards the latter.

On the way back, I notice that the door to one of the banks I've passed is open. At least I'll be able to pick up some cash. I try with my bank card, but right at the end of the process it says that the transaction isn't available with my card. I try again with slightly different options. This is a bugger. Let's give it a go with my credit card. Thankfully, that works.

I decide to head to the shops at the back of the university. There's a convenience store and that bottle shop. I get some soft drinks in the former and a bottle of wine for Dolores in the latter. By the time I get back to the hotel, I've been walking for 80 minutes. I'm still feeling rough. The walk hasn't helped at all. The contrary, in fact.

Christoph Flaskamp is supposed to be picking up a couple of us at 11:15 to go his brewery for a barbecue. Stan and John Roberts have cancelled, because their flight has been brought forward. So it's just me and Michael Hall, former head of the BJCP.

I start getting worried about 11:30. At 11:40, Michael Hall, who’s getting a lift as well, gets a message from Christoph. He's running a little late. It's almost midday when he rolls up. (Michael is former head of the BJCP. But I don’t hold that against him.) He’s a soft-spoken, friendly man.

The drive to the brewery is interesting. It looks a lot less first world after we leave Santiago. There are bright orange flowers everywhere. I ask Christoph what they are. He doesn't seem to know: "A spring flower." Is the best he can come up with. I could have guessed that.

When he finds out my wife is German we start discussing language.

“What language do you speak at home?”

“English.” I reply. “When the kids were small I wouldn’t respond if they spoke to me in English.”

“I speak to mine in German. But they answer in Spanish.”

“It was easier for us, as neither are Dutch.”

The barbecue is in full swing when we arrive, with around 100 guests getting stuck into the beers enthusiastically. As it’s an all-you-can-eat, all-you-can-drink event, that shouldn’t be a surprise. And, to be fair, it is quite warm.

Christoph gives us a quick tour of his brewery. It looks much like every other modern brewery: loads of stainless steel things in a shed.

Chris introduces me to his partner, Martin Flannery. Owner of Flannery’s Beerhouse. He has some weird tales of importing Guinness into Chile. And eventually being told to stop. That’s why he teamed up with Chris: to brew a Guinness substitute for his two Irish pubs. We try a glass. It’s pretty nice. With a good creamy head from the use of nitrogen.

We start to chat about Guinness serving methods. His parents ran a pub in the West of Ireland when he was a kid. He can remember when Guinness still came from the wood. His mum would put some casks next to the fire and leave some in the cold. The warm ones became the high cask, the one with highly carbonated beer. The cold ones were the low cask, with flatter beer. Every pint served was a combination of the two. It’s the same concept as the Belfast Guinness Porter.

I meet one of my fellow judges, a young Colombian woman, now living in Chile, with whom I’d not spoken before. She smiles all the time. It’s infectious. I’m starting to crack a grin more often. And I’m a right miserable old git.

Chris gives me the nod when the barbecue is ready so we’re at the head of the queue. Great. I hate waiting for stuff. A couple of big lumps of meat on each of our plates, we sit down to eat. This rather pleasant, eating al fresco. There’s potato salad, rice and tomato salad, too. It’s all rather nice.

“Why are some people drinking from real glasses?” I ask Chris. We’ve got the plastic cups the bar is serving in.

“They’ve bought them in the shop. Do you want one?”

I wasn’t dropping a hint, but I’m not going to turn one down. Chris comes back with a bag, a baseball cap and a six pack, as well as the glass. The beer definitely tastes better from the real glass.

We drink a bit more beer, but can’t linger long. Mike has a plane to catch. Chris will drop him off at the airport then carry on to my hotel.

I’m glad we make the detour to the airport. I’m dying for a wee when we get there.

“Is it OK if I go to the toilet, Chris?” Not adding the other possibility: me pissing inside his car.

“No problem. I’ll wait here.”

Sweet relief is soon at hand. Er, so to speak.

The week’s last event, the award ceremony, is tonight at eight. It’s in a different part of the same university. I’ve a couple hours to write emails, waste time looking at tweets and stare in literal incomprehension at the TV.

I walk down by myself. But soon find some chums to chat with. And some beer to drink, obviously.

It’s really packed. All the seats are taken. I have to stand at the side. It’s not particularly comfortable as people keep pushing past. It’s not their fault, No other way to get through. But it’s a constant struggle to keep my beer intact. Obviously, that’s the most important. Wouldn’t want to lose any beer. Or spill it over someone.

I hear my name called. That’s nice. People start motioning. I have to go on stage. OK, not so sure about that. But there are a few dozen others so I don’t stand out like the fat, old git that I am.

There’s some very enthusiastic applause for some of the winners. Especially the Argentinian breweries.

They wander around with canapey sort of food. I have a few bits, but that barbecue has right filled me up.

I don’t stay too late. Outside, where I’m trying to remember which direction is home, I bump into another attendee. Who has a car and drives me back. That’s a relief. I’m knacked again. And I need to be up fairly early. My lift to the airport is at 9:30.

The week has been amazing. Like a summer school for pissheads. The most continuous fun I’ve had for years.

Just time for a quick pisco before the god of sleep plucks me from this earth.



Cerveceria Principal (Tübinger)
Calle Nueva s/n,
Parcela 6A. El Principal,
Pirque.
http://www.cerveceriaprincipal.cl/



Disclaimer:
My trip was paid for by Copa Cervezas de América
http://www.copacervezasdeamerica.com  

Chile Expo day three

Another day of no judging, so I arise late again, at around 10. Too late for breakfast in the hotel.

I put on some bollocky local TV. Is that Kommissar Rex? What a weird series to show down here. I fill my head with fluff for an hour or two. Worried about getting through all the pisco I have left, I have a couple of shots of that. Don’t want to have to throw it down the sink come Sunday.

On the way to the expo, I pick up a cheese and ham enpanada at a little shop I spotted yesterday. I manage to understand when they ask me if I want it warmed up. I can't be arsed to wait, so I say "no". I need my breakfast. And I need it quickly.

Once at the Expo, I get myself a beer. The Mosaic IPA is all gone, unfortunately. So I get another IPA, which is also pretty good.

“Fill it to the top, please. It’ll save me having to come back so often.”

Lew Bryson is talking. He doesn't have slides. At first I think I've arrived when he's already started the Q&A. In fact his whole presentation has been in that format. As always, I’ve a beer in my hand. I listen so much better that way.

After he's finished, I feel like some lunch. Where to go?

When I arrive at Bao Bar, Averie and Jeff Stuffings are already there. How odd. Well, not really. Just for a change, I order a Pisco Peruano. And an ossobuco bao, which is ridiculously good value at $2,500. Funnily enough, the waiter remembers me.

One of the waiters speaks reasonably good English. I discover that he’s Czech and try what little remains of my Czech on him. He gives me a slightly odd, pitying look. I’m getting used to being looked at with pity. It comes with being an old bastard.

   
John Fahey joins us. Stan and John Roberts troll up. Then When Brad Kraus turn up, the waiters stick two tables together for us. Brad brews in Panama. Our table is starting to get crowded.

The afternoon and evening race by in a haze of pisco sours. And the occasional tapas.

I awake in my hotel bed. At least I'm undressed. But where's my watch? I’m going to have to guess when it’s time to get up.


BAO BAR
Av. Manuel Montt 925,
Providencia,
Región Metropolitana.
Tel: +56 2 3267 4334
http://baobar.cl


Disclaimer:
My trip was paid for by Copa Cervezas de América
http://www.copacervezasdeamerica.com

Autumn sale

Yes. I need to get my book sales moving again. So it's time to knock a few eauros off the books in my classic UK styles (all four of them) books.

I've knocked 15% off Strong!, Bitter! and Mild!Plus. And a massive 20% Off Porter!

Buy several. Please, buy several. Alexei really needs a new winter coat. The other kids laugh at his raggedy old one. And Andrew needs beer. Lots of beer, now he's a student.

My award-winning book

is still available from Lulu:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/ronald-pattinson/scotland-vol-2/paperback/product-23090497.html

Why not join the exclusive club of purchasers?

Especially if you have even the vaguest interest in Scottish beer. It's packed with (real) information about Scottish beer and how it was brewed. Quite different from the usual fairy stories, but, hey, I actually went to the trouble of looking at brewing records.

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1967 Adnams Tally Ho

I thought it would be an interesting exercise to see how Tally Ho developed over the years. Tracking it from the 19th century to almost the present day. Then I noticed a small problem.

It’s all to do with the fact that Tally Ho was only brewed a few times a year. It’s a pretty basic problem, really. I have no photos of a Tally Ho brewing record between 1917 and 1953. It’s my fault, really. I should have been looking out for it.

Unusually, the recipe has got simpler since the 1950’s. It’s down to just mild malt, crystal malt and sugar. The original includes a small amount of enzymic malt. As I don’t think that’s available any more, I’ve just upped the quantity of mild malt.

What’s in the recipe below as No. 3 invert, really was that in the original. The No. 2 invert is a substitute for two proprietary sugars, one called Laevuline and the other Sucramel (I think, the handwriting is hard to read). It seems a reasonable enough guess. You could also just throw in table sugar instead, if you can’t be arsed to make your own No. 2.

The hops are a guess. All I know is that they were English. Fuggles and Goldings in some combination are the most likely. Which is what I’ve gone for. Any time-appropriate English hops will be a fine substitution.

You can see that the OG has been knocked down a little, from 1080º to 1075º. That’s still not bad, considering the gravity was not much higher, 1081º, in 1913. Most beers lost more than 25% of their strength over the course of the two World Wars.

1967 Adnams Tally Ho
mild malt	12.00 lb	77.42%
crystal malt	1.25 lb	8.06%
No. Invert 2 sugar	0.75 lb	4.84%
No. Invert 3 sugar	1.50 lb	9.68%
Fuggles 105 mins	1.00 oz
Fuggles 60 mins	1.00 oz
Goldings 30 mins	1.00 oz
Goldings dry hops	0.25 oz
OG	1075
FG	1028.5
ABV	6.15
Apparent attenuation	62.00%
IBU	31
SRM	19
Mash at	150º F
Sparge at	170º F
Boil time	105 minutes
pitching temp	58.5º F
Yeast	WLP025 Southwold