Copenhagen (part two)

Day two. Not having gone crazy and been early in my bed, I was up and bright as a button at 08:30.

As usual, Mike's thoughts were on food. But he was awake a little before me and had already breakfasted.

"I want to look at the harbour." He said. "Fine by me." The sun was shining, the birds were singing and we'd worked out which bus went from our B & B to Kongens Nytorv. Everything was fine with the world.


Wandering around aimlessly again
From Kongens Nytorv we walked along Ny Havn and then across the water to Christians Havn. There's a cetain quality of light in Copenhagen, the sky a striking azure blue. You couldn't imagine a better background for the brightly painted pubs of the Ny Havn. At its end, the deeper blue of the sea added another dimension to an already colourful tableau.

"I think this used to be Sick Street." I said. "The road that led to where the jetfoil to Malmö used to dock." I'm such a romantic. It didn't phase Mike, who was staring across the water in admiration at the new opera House. Bit too modernist for my taste. As we crossed the lifting bridge to Christians Havn, Mike wondered if anyone lived in the little towers used by its operators. I tried to convince him this was pretty unlikely, but he took the curtains on the windows as proof of habitation. I let it drop. I would be easy to spend all day arguing with him about this sort of trivia. But life's too short.

We were sort of vaguely on our way Christiania. "It's full of wandering dogs." I told him. That didn't put him off. On the way we sauntered along a couple of canals, filled with variously-sized sailing boats. This part of Copenhagen, with its waterways and tightly-packed streets, is reminiscent of Amsterdam. It also has the spiky outline of 17th century earthworks common in Dutch towns.

Aimless wandering can be an entertainment in itself. If you don't need to be anywhere in hurry. And it isn't raining. As I've already said, it was a beautiful sunny day. The temperature, around 16º was perfect too. Warm enough for me to be in shirt sleeves. A couple of degrees hotter and I would have had to take my shirt off. Just as well it wasn't any warmer. My shirtless torso is not a sight I would want to inflict on anyone. Not even Goethean.

After an hour or so of walking, we needed refreshment. "What about a coffee somewhere?" Mike has this coffee thing. But it wasn't yet midday, so it didn't seem that unreasonable. Two cafés appeared before us, as if in a dream. This really was a perfect day. We randomly chose one.

What I found inside is an indication of how far Denmark's beer revolution has gone. Hang on, I've already used that thought. Never mind. It applied even more than with Obelix. The café we had entered wasn't even vaguely pub-like. Yet they had six draught beers. More than the number of tables.

Don't be shocked by what I tell you next. Remember, it was only 10:30. I ordered a coffee. Without rum or anything else to spice it up. I know you're disappointed. But none of us is superhuman.


Christiania
As we walked past the church with the funny spiral tower, we chanced upon a group of Belgian teenagers. I'm always tempted to start earwigging when confronted with Dutch-speakers abroad. Assuming they can't be understood by bystanders, they can be disconcertingly honest.

I wasn't sure of the exact route to Christiania. "Let's follow the teenagers" I suggested. "They're bound to be headed to Christiania to buy drugs." Well what the hell else would they be doing in this residential part of town?

Typically, there wasn't a dog in sight as we entered Christiania. It looked a good bit neater than I remembered it, too. I didn't tell Mike, but I was hoping to have a beer in one of the illegal pubs. They're a good bit cheaper than real ones, if you don't mind drinking mainstream Carslberg products. I still hadn't tried their Porter yet on this visit. I pictured myself in a shack in the convivial company of crusties and the odd alcy. But the day had stopped being perfect. None of the pubs opened until noon. What sort of anarchy is that, not opening until midday? Christiania has really sold out.

When we got to the charmingly-named Pusher Street, along with the "No photos" signs, there were packs of dogs. Well, not exactly packs, but lots of individual dogs. They, too, were a lot more docile than I remembered. When did Christiania turn into a squatter theme park? Or, like an over-amarilloed Stout, has it just mellowed with age?

The beer festival kicked off at noon on Saturday. The Plan was to arrive there about then. We could make the journey by a combination of Metro and S-Tog. Around the entrance to the Metro was a small flea market. On sale were bits of people's old junk. Very much like Koniginendag round my way. Mike was hungry again. I think he's got a tapeworm. He eats twice as much as me, but's half the weight. He spotted a girl with an apple cake. "The recipe is French," she said, "from Brittany. But I'm Belgian. I bought the apples in Sweden." Europe really is becoming very European. If you see what I mean.


The festival
We got to the festival 15 minutes after it opened. The crowds at the entrance were even thicker than on Friday. And I was one of the plebs this time. Back in my proper station. My press pass was only valid for one day.

I've been to loads of beer festivals. But I've never come across as efficient a method of entry. You just gave the person your 100 crowns and that was it. Once in, you helped yourself to a glass (with two tokens inside it) and the programme. The queue was moving forward at near walking pace. Despite their being a couple of hundred people in front of us, we only had to wait a couple of minutes. My compliments to the organisers. And because you began with two tokens, you didn't have to queue up again at the token sales counter.

The programme was pretty impressive, too. Full colour, very informative and the size of a book. I can't remember a better one.

We now knew where the seats were. So we went directly to the Mad Telt. Loads of seats again. Being seated the whole time (apart from collecting beer), my notes are much more extensive. I bet you're pleased.

I impulsively grabbed the first beer I came across (that thirst thing again). Kølster Mørk Festival. The pump looked like it was formed from a salvaged lathe or bit of agricultural machinery. Sadly, it was much more interesting than the beer, which was very cloudy and a bit funny tasting.

On Mike and I's last trip to Copenhagen we'd met Mike Murphy from GourmetBryggeriet. I'd later tried a couple of their bottled beers and had been reasonably impressed. That's why my second choice was their Blue Mountain Stout.

GourmetBryggeriet Blue Mountain Stout. Black with little head. Very bitter, burnt, smoke, roast and liquorice flavours, with a touch of fruit. Too roasty for my taste, but not bad. 66 out of 100. I've only just realised that the Blue Mountain in the name might refer to the Jamaican coffee. If so, no wonder it was so roasty. I've never seen the logic of putting coffee in a Stout. It already has roast grain. Adding roasted coffee tips the roast into overload and doesn't even add a new, contrasting flavour. Just my opinion. Like I said, not a bad beer, just not to my taste. (I've just looked. It does indeed contain Blue Mountain Coffee.)

While on my way to fetch beer I bumped into Beer Nut and Mrs. Beer Nut. Not that we had much time to chat. Just thought I'd drop yet another name. I hoped I'd bump into him again later. A shame that I didn't.

Next was a former Best Beer in the World, Närke Kaggen Stormaktsporter, from the Tatoverede Enke stall.

Närke Kaggen Stormaktsporter. Pitch black with a very dark tan head. Lovely oily texture. Alcohol, prune, liquorice, roast, toffee, cherry, raisin and a few more flavours beside. Powerfully flavoured, but deep, complex and harmonious. Even Mike thought it was great and he's not a big Stout fan. 89 out of 100.

I liked De Molen Cuvée a lot on Friday. So I had another, this time in circumstances where I could savour it.

De Molen Cuvée. Black with a pale tan head. Wine, black chocolate, roast, alcohol, burnt, caramel liquorice, etc, etc, etc. Delight in a glass, complex and vinous. Easily the best Dutch beer I've ever tried. 93 out of 100 and I may have been a little mean. And I've got a bottle of it waiting for me at home.

I think that's more than enough tasting notes for one post. I had a few more Porters/Stouts and Nørrebro Bryghus No Name No. 4 (Mild), a beer almost, but not quite, totally unlike Mild. The cask Ocean Arbedersporter (is that right? It wasn't in the programme.) [Ocean Järntorgets Arbetarporter is the correct name. Thanks Lars Marcus Garshol.] from Sweden was pretty good, as was Brøckhouse Bryggmasterens 12, an aged Stout of 13% ABV.

There was a sausage moment somewhere amongst all the beer. And a passing young lovely in a skimpy top. Not that I notice that sort of thing, being a marriedly happy man.

Almost forgot, I picked up a book. Danske Øl by Henrik Bøeghs. About Danish beer and listing all the (many) breweries in the country. I didn't realise until he offered to sign it, that it was the author serving. The book is in Danish. See, learning to read Danish wasn't a total waste of time.

Mike had a new plan. That we'd leave the festival at 15:00, go into town and come back at 19:00 to eat. That was his tapeworm talking again. It didn't sound very practical to me, so I decided to pass on the return to the festival.


Pub photography
We all make mistakes. Last time in Copenhagen, I hadn't checked opening times properly and had tried to visit two pubs on a Sunday, when they were closed. Zum Biergarten and BrewPub København.

Zum Biergarten is, as the name implies, a German-inspired beer garden. Surprisingly, it's in the middle of the city, not far from Radhusplads. It's in the courtyard of some old industrial complex (another bit is called the Pump House, so my guess is that it was a pumping station).

It's a lot smaller than a German beer garden and there probably as many seats inside as out. But we got there just after opening time and had our pick. There was Spaten Helles on tap and a variety of Belgian, Danish and American beers on draught and in bottle.

We sat outside and admired the ivy-clad brick chimney backed by a clear blue sky. The day was moving back into the perfection zone. I sipped my Indslev Hvede Bock and felt a warm glow of contentment. And it wasn't just from a toileting accident, though, wanting to avoid the hideous festival toilets, I had been bursting for a wee when we arrived. A half-litre glass was a delight after the tiny 10cl measures at the festival. Even Mike was impressed and he's notoriously picky.

Even before we'd left Zum Biergarten, I suspected Mike wasn't going to be quite so happy with our next destination. He was convinced BrewPub was going to have the sort of American-influenced beers he hates. The place has a funny layout. There's no entrance on the street. You have to enter through a courtyard beer garden, down a set of stairs. We're both getting on a bit, so it took us a while to work out. Even then, we only managed it with the help of a sign with a big arrow. Fading faculties and all that.

Inside it was modern and a bit trendier than my inner trendometer can bear. But we weren't going to be spending the rest of our lives there. While Mike was trying to work out which was the least American of their beers, I just ordered the strongest. At least you'll get a good whack of alcohol, whatever the failings of the beer itself.

UngStrups Reserve was billed as a smoked Barley Wine of 10.3% ABV. The smoke was of the iodine type, more like an Islay whisky than a Bamberg Rauchbier. I guess they must use peated malt. I thought it was pretty good, reminiscent of Lagavullin. Mike hated it for exactly the same reason I loved it, the iodine flavour. Not that I would have drunk a second.


Alone
Time for Mike to go back to the festival to eat. To be honest, I was knacked from all the traipsing around and was ready to vegetate in my room watching a crappy dvd. Hoping to stock up and sandwich stuff and some Porter and the walk home.

But my route took me past Vesterbro Bryghus. A brewpub that was new to me. I took a couple of snaps and wavered. What did I always tell the kids about it being bad luck to walk past an open pub?

Inside it was dark. Very dark. I do like to be able to see my beer. Long and thin. Modern, bare brick walls, copper brewing kit. As you can see, my note-taking abilities had been badly degraded by a long and tiring day.

I ordered a Brown Ale. I should have known better. When did I last have a Brown Ale I liked? Either they're too hoppy, ruining the malty purpose of the style, or sickly sweet. Or like Mikkeler Jackie Brown, an unbalanced mess. It wasn't any of those. It was just bland and too fizzy.

I was slightly too late for the normal supermarkets. My only hope was a decent kiosk. Then I chanced on an Irma City that was open. Oh joy! And guess what? They had Carlsberg Porter, now redubbed Carl's Porter. But what's in a name? Stinky Danish cheese slices, a packet of salami and some crispbread and my healthfood supper was complete.

Carlsberg, sorry Carl's, Porter was better than I remembered. Really quite nice and an excellent accompaniment for the intellectual stimulation of "Meet the Fockers" (I think one of Dustin Hoffman's best ever performances). I wonder if they've changed the recipe?

The day hadn't been 100% perfect. But close enough. Certainly much closer to perfection than most days.

Only Sunday to go. We had a low-key day planned. Visiting plan-b was the only item on the agenda. And perhaps a sausage or two. Would plan-b be able to live up to our memories and expectations? Find out in the next installment.


Zum Biergarten
Axeltorv 12, 1609,
Kobenhavn.
Tel 33 93 90 94
info@zumbiergarten.dk
http://www.zumbiergarten.dk/


BrewPub København
Vestergade 29,
1456 København K.
Tel.: 33 32 00 60
http://www.brewpub.dk/

A short history of yeast

I thought I'd point you in the direction of two wonderful posts about yeast by Zythophile. Really tremendous stuff:

A short history of yeast
The history of yeast breaking news

Just demonstrating again what a top writer he is.

Copenhagen (part one)

September is going to be a busy month. I've a trip to London at the end of it. I'm just back from a weekend in Copenhagen for the European Beer Festival.

I've got a very soft spot for Copenhagen. Even before it became a beer mecca, I thought it was a pretty cool city. Now it's like paradise. Just with colder weather and higher prices.

Until now, I've always stayed in one of the cheap hotels that cluster just west of the main station, around Vesterbrogade and Istedgade. But Mike, my travelling companion, had found a bed and breakfast. Having more free time than me, he'd had chance to hunt around on the web. The B & B was in Frederiksborg, a little further north than I'd been before.

I'd rather stupidly assumed that all of Copenhagen's western innercity was slightly down-at-heel. That Frederiksborg is quite different was immediately apparent. From the architecture (more ostentatious) and the shops (posher). In the immediate area around the B & B were a collection of delis, stylish furniture shops and a chocolatier with a chocolate fountain in the window. My kids would have liked that. But they were safely at home with Dolores.

We arrived about half ten. Now there's a rail connection, it's a piece of piss getting into town. "Look, there's a big green thing with Carlsberg written on it. I wonder if it's part of the brewery?" "Looks like an office block to me" said Mike, as we neared Københavns Hovedbanegård. I love the Danish language. I just wish I could understand what the hell anyone is saying.

I'll explain. Back in the Happy Time (before I becamed kidded up), I used to learn to read a new language every year or two. Danish was one I put a lot of effort into. If you already know English and German, it's not that hard. Danish filled in a lot of the holes in my English etymology. Most basic English words that don't come from German or French are of Danish origin. Tree, for example.

I used my standard method. Bought a novel and a dictionary and started at page one. Of the novel, not the dictionary. I had a quick glance at a basic grammar to get some idea of the structure and pronunciation, but didn't pay too much attention to the latter.You don't hear much spoken Danish outside Denmark. There are no Scandinavian TV channels on the Amsterdam cable.

Pretty soon I was fairly proficient at reading Danish and rattled my way through a dozen or so novels. Time to give the spoken language a try. We arranged a trip to Copenhagen. In the first minute I realised that the pronunciation I'd been using in my head while I read bore not the slightest relationship to real speech. My god. I'd found a language with even worse spelling than English. I couldn't understand a single word anyone said. If they wrote it down, I was fine. But that isn't very practical.

Digression over. I just wish I could say Hovedbanegård the way the conductor does when announcing the next station. When the conductor did announce Københavns Hovedbanegård, we got off the train. Well, not immediately. We did wait for the train to stop and the doors to open.

It's not just sound of the name I love. The station itself is pretty groovetastic. Restrained, but beautiful stained glass windows. Then there's the canopy above the platforms. And the roof in the main hall. Both look much like the cast-iron constructions you find in all old stations. But look more closely, and you'll see that the structure is actually made of wood.

"Language, architecture, Copenhagen neighbourhoods. Isn't this blog supposed to be beer-themed?" I'm getting to that. Just providing a little colour before the inevitable list of beers I sloshed down.


Killing time
The festival didn't kick off until three. We had a few hours to kill before that. As usual. Mike's mind was on food. Mine was on beer. Walking back towards town after dumping our gear in the B & B, we soon stumbled upon an Irma supermarket. I was intrigued to see what its beer section looked like. I'll be honest, it was pretty depressing. It wasn't that big, but had a selection almost as good as Ton Overmars (my local purveyor of St Bernardus Abt). Some decent international stuff and beers from around a dozen Danish micros. It made me think, which Dutch micro beers have I seen in an Amsterdam supermarket? Erm, erm . . . 't Ij . . erm . . that's it.

As it was on the way to the festival, Pegasus seemed a good spot for lunch. I'd really liked the place on my last visit to Copenhagen. According to that definitive work, The Copenhagen Pub Guide, it opened at ten. It was very dark and very shut when we arrived. "Didn't we have lunch here last time?", I asked. Mike remembers this sort of thing. "Yes." Seems the opening times have changed. It doesn't open until 17:00 now. Oh dear.

Mike had already had already taken a good, long shufti at a Pølser Vøgn we'd passed on Vesterbrotorv. Seemed like a good option for a quick snack. It just meant walking in 100% the wrong direction for the festival. Either my memory is failing me, or they've improved the choice of sausages in these little kiosks. I got something not unlike a bratwurst. We scoffed al fresco on the square, which was already occupied by a small group of alcies slurping Carlsberg Grøn from the bottle. That'll be me in a few years. Though I'm pretty sure my choice of cheap loony juice will be Carl's Porter.

We still had a fair bit of time to kill. All the pubs, the closed Pegasus excepted, in that Copenhagen Pub Guide were in other parts of the city, even further away from the festival. Though there were several pubs and cafes on Vesterbrotorv. Mike said "We could drink a coffee here." Yeah, right. I was going to drink a coffee. It was after twelve and my beer counter was firmly stuck on zero. We picked a place at random. The closest one. Café Obelix.

My expectations weren't high. A Tuborg sign was hanging outside. Maybe they'd have the Porter.

What I found inside is an indication of how far Denmark's beer revolution has gone. Remember, this was somewhere that was more a coffee and cake sort of place than a pub, let alone a beer pub. They had nine draught beers and around 15 bottled. That would count as a semi beer pub in Amsterdam. OK, there were obvious signs of a Carlsberg tie. But in Denmark that means things like draught Brooklyn Lager. Carlsberg import Brooklyn's beers and you see them all over the shop.

But I wasn't going to choose an American beer as my first in Denmark. Something immediately caught my eye. Broyhan Rod. I have more obessions than you could shake a whole forest of sticks at. Broyhan is one of them. Simple choice. A pale, cloudy beer was poured into my glass. Not very red-looking, but I was prepared to overlook that.

Kongens Bryghus Broyhan Rod. Butter, toffee, caramel, citrus, resin and tobacco. I'll be honest, pretty diacetylly. But that may well hacve been because it was the first one served that day. The hopping was a bit harsh. And it didn't seem much like Broyhan, from what I've read about the style. Still, closer that the bog-standard pale lager they call Broyhan in Hanover. I gave it 61 out of 100. A bit generous, perhaps, but I had been spitting feathers.

Mike ordered a coffee.

When Mike's coffee was done, he wandered off in search of the supermarket with an outstanding range of beer we'd been shown on our last visit. While he was gone, I ordered another beer. And a double Aquavit. I told you, I was spitting feathers.

Kongens Bryghus Rosenborg Ale. Golden, little head. Metal, pine, tobacco and boiled sweets. Tasted very pasteurised. Stewed, in fact. A rough bitterness, too. Just 38 out of 100.

Before anyone brings it up, I realise Kongens Bryghus is just a Carlsberg/Tuborg brand and not a real brewery.

There was time for one more sausage stop on the walk to the festival. This time eaten on a square with two clumps of alcies. Their poison of choice was Tuborg Grøn. Nice little variation, there. "Why are there so many oriental drunks?" Mike asked. "No idea. Positive discrimination?" I hadn't particularly noticed. Most had that healthy alcoholic beetroot face I recognise from myself.


Wandering around aimlessly
We'd planned to hit the festival bang on opening time. A failure to properly check at the address on my part, meant we had an unscheduled wander around another part of the Carlsberg complex. On the upside, it presented me with plenty of photo opportunities of the older parts of the brewery. One thing in particular I'd wanted to get a snap of. The Elephant gate. Particularly the one elephant with a swastika on its side.

The Carlsberg brewery must be the last building in Europe to sport swastikas. Why is that? It used to be Carlsberg's trademark. Long before a certain A. Hitler adopted it as his own. Carlsberg should have sued him for copyright infringement.


The festival
When we eventually got to the right bit of Carlsberg it was 15:15. I like to give you exact timings. When the film is made of my life, these little details will be important. Ewan McGregor will be perfect to play the part of me. As long as he loses the beard and Scottish accent. And possibly gets a little taller.

There was a mob at the entrance. But, having press accreditation, I didn't have queue with the plebs. Or pay to get in. This blogging thing is really starting to pay off. In return for just several hundred hours of my time spent on writing and research, I get to save 100 crowns and 5 minutes queueing. Bargain. In front of me at the press entrance was Keith, who'd been on the last BierMania! tour I'd done. Small world.

My thirst was still raging. So I almost ran to the first stand that looked vaguely interesting. Braunstein. Only after I'd ordered did I notice I was standing next to Stephen Beaumont. Strange what thirst can do to your powers of observation. Stephen was busy sampling their distilled offerings. A gin and a beer schnapps matured in wooden casks. Not oak ones. But I've forgotten what type of wood. [chestnut: thanks Stephen] What they usually use for balsamic vinegar. What I then did, I wouldn't recommend as a way to start a serious beer tasting session. I joined him on the spirits. Stephen had a reasonable excuse. Having been at the trade session, he'd already had two hours on beer. The only explanation for my actions is that I'm a pisshead. And I'd noticed that the festival glasses were just 10cl.

The beer schnapps was very pleasant. Very pleasant indeed. The gin wasn't bad, either. I had a quick chat with the brewer and he said they'd started making whisky, too. But the first batch won't be ready until 2010. Can't wait.

I also tried a couple of Braunstein beers. Dark Lager, which was OK. Their standard Porter, which was nice. And Black Oak Porter, aged 8 months in oak. Very nice. You'll have to excuse the brevity of my descriptions. You try writing notes when you're stood up and have a glass in one hand and a festival programme in the other. Plus I don't like looking too nerdy. Not all the time. Sometimes life is more about fun than notes.

Now that my hands had stopped shaking, it was time to look some people up. So on to the stand of Tatoverede Enke. That's a Copenhagen beer pub/restaurant owned by Reinhard. A German living in Gothenburg. The stall had some interesting Swedish beers. A couple of cask offerings from Ocean, the newest brewery in Gothenburg. And Närke Stormaktsporter. I had one of the latter. Pretty damn good. Sadly, Reinhard was on driving duties. But his other half was there and we had a little chat.

Next was Menno's turn. I'd seen the wooden barrel of Cuvée on my visit to De Molen a couple of weeks previously. And he'd given me a taste of the bottled version. It's a mix of Trarina Esra and Rasputin that's had another fermentation with Bordeaux wine yeast. It has a distinctive vinous, almost grape-like aroma. And is effing delicious. Not much time to chat with Menno, as the stall was very popular. I'm not surprised. I'd have been happy to lie under the barrel of Cuvée, turn on the tap and drown myself in the stuff.

My excuse (I'm apologising a lot in this post) for what happened next is that I don't live in Britain. One stand was all British cask beer. A pretty good selection. "Do you have any Mild?" I asked the bloke with the classic beard, beergut, brewery T-shirt combination who was serving. "Will Holden's do you?" That'll do more than nicely. Even better, they had plastic half pint glasses you could borrow. 10 cl of Mild would be pretty silly.

I couldn't resist half pints of Fuller's 1845 and Harvey's Porter. Only had them in bottled form before. I told you, fun was foremost in my thoughts. There was no way I could get around all the beers that were new to me. No point trying.

By this time, I was well fed up with standing. The main hall had no seating. I tell a lie, there were a couple of dozen seats in the seminar area. We rested our feet there for a few minutes. Then a seminar started. Given by someone who looked like a hard-drinking docker. We moved on.

Finally looking at the map properly, Mike noticed that there was a tent outside full of beerhall table and benches. The Mad Telt. Better late than never. Plenty of empty places, too. In the space between the hall and the meal tent were a couple of those sausage wagons. We indulged in our third sausage of the day. We were to get through plenty more before the weekend was done.

Just time for a Klosterbryggeriet Hamborgøl, supposedly a Doppelbock. Wasn't Hamburger was a sort of wheat beer? It was OK, I suppose. I'd been spoiled by the wonderful beers I'd already tried.


Tatoverede Enke
Mike and I had a plan. A couple of hours at the festival, then eat in Tatoverede Enke. I like simple plans. Having had enough of walking, we took the train across town.

What can I say about Enke? No praise is high enough. It's one of my favorite pubs. Downstairs is an intimate bar, upstairs a stylish restaurant. The latter is where we were headed. For 300 crowns (approx. 40 euros) we had two courses of top nosh. Cooked with beer. I'm trying to think of a better beer restaurant, but can't. Maybe there is, somewhere in Belgium. But nowhere I've been to. They've a cracking choice of beer, too. Sixteen draughts and about 100 bottled. It used to be all Belgian, but I think they now have a few Swedish ones.

I won't bore you with exactly what I ate. Just that it was spectacularly good. And Saison Dupont and St. Bernardus Prior went with the food a treat. We finished by splitting a hideously expensive bottle of Pannepeut, one of the many variations of Pannepot from the World's Best Brewer. I would give you my opinion, but I have enough enemies already.

It was still pretty early when we headed back to the B & B. Only about 21:00. I nipped into a kiosk to pick up a couple of bottles of beer to wind down with. Nothing very special. Sadly, they stocked no Porter.

There was plenty more to do the next day. Visit the beer festival, photograph pubs, eat sausages. But I'm saving the details for my next post. See you there.



Café Obelix
Vesterbrogade 53
1620 Copenhagen
Tel: 33 31 34 14

Den Tatoverede Enke
Boltens Gaard
Gothersgade 8 C
DK-1123 København K
Tel: 33 91 88 77

Ale Brewing circa 1850 (part three)

Here are the remaining instructions on how to brew Ale 1850's style.

Cleansing
This was a very important process, intended to remove yeast from the wort. Beer was transferred from the fermenting tun to cleansing casks. As it began to ferment again, beer would be forced out of the casks and into stillions. During the the first 8 or 9 hours, the fermentation would be vigourous enough to require refilling the casks with the beer that had overflowed in the stillions every hour. As the fermentation slowed down, refilling would only be needed occasionally. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 50.)

Beers were usually cleansed within three days of the start of fermentation. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 50.)


Racking
When fermentation in the cleansing casks had ceased, the casks were left open to allow the beer to lose its CO2 before racking. The beer was left to stand for 7 or 8 days during which time the yeast would gradually settle to the bottom of the cleansing cask. When clear, the beer was racked into new casks, leaving the sediment behind in the cleansing casks. During racking, mild Ale fresh from cleansing could be mixed with old Stock Ale, in a proportion of 2 parts mild to one part old. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 50.) The casks were bunged shut, but were vented as the beer began to condition. After a few weeks, it was ready to be drunk. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 51.)


Ageing
supply of Stock Ale was maintained for blending with fresh beer. One method of accomplishing this without wasting space or time was like a solera system. A vat of beer of moderate age was divided over two vats which were then filled with young beer.The old and young beers blended better if the fresh beer was added through a tap at the bottom of the vat. This process was repeated every four to six months. In this way steady supply of Stock Ale of a constant quality was always available. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, pages 52-53.)

Beer could be encouraged to age more quickly by adding the spent hops from two or three brews. The hops also helped to clear the beer. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 53.) In April, pouring a couple of pints of olive oil on the surface of the beer in a vat to helped seal it off from the air and prevent it spoiling. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 53.)

The maturing vats were airtight and only the best malt and hops were used for beers to be aged. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 56.)

Why the anger?

I've noticed something very strange. There's a group of people who get very angry at me and my research. You know who I mean. The Homebrew Twats. I wonder why that is?

I have a theory. They're scared of their own knowledge becoming redundant or outdated. That's the only explanation I can think of. Why else would you find research threatening?

In my naivety, I had expected universal delight at the prospect of new information being brought to light. Of the bounds of human knowledge being extended. But that's not the case.

I suppose if passing the bjcp exam has been the highlight of your life, you don't want to discover some of what you've learned is bollocks. It devalues your success. Understandable, in a way, but a pretty sad attitude to have to life. It reduces knowledge to mere dogma. Fixed, unchanging and unchallengeable.

Thank Stalin not everything is yet known. The world would be pretty dull if it were. And I'd have nothing to fill my time. Apart from the kids. And work. Maybe I'd even get around to sorting out a new kitchen.

Ale Brewing circa 1850 (part two)

Today it's details of the fermentation process.


Fermentation
A maximum pitching temperature of 66º F in cold weather and 62º F in warm weather was suggested by Loftus. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 44.) Though for hard-water worts slightly higher temperatures were needed than for soft-water ones. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 45.) Similarly, hard-water worts required a greater quantity of yeast to be pitched: 5 to 6 pounds per quarter of malt as opposed to 3 to 4 pounds for those from soft water. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 45.) [From one quarter of malt between 2 and 4 36 gallon barrels of wort was produced.]

Fermentation could be speeded up beating the yeasty head into the fermenting wort. This process also meant that less yeast needed to be pitched, something Loftus found a good idea. "By thus blending the yeasty principles of produced by the beer, we can make a smaller quantity of foreign yeast suffice; and it is a desirable object never at ant time to use more of the latter than is absolutely necessary to effect conversion. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, pages 45-46.)

The fermenters were kept closed, only being opened to add yeast or sample the gravity. When the weather was cold, the fermentation room itself kept closed to maintain a constant temperature. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 46.)

The degree or attenuation was determined by a variety of factors: original gravity, air temperature and how long the beer was to be stored. In general, strong worts could be attenuated more as they would still retain enough unfermented material to give the beer body and to leave some extract for secondary fermentation. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 46.)

Beer was not attenuated as much in cold weather as in warm, again to help secondary conditioning. If it was intended for immediate consumption, beer was moderately attenuated, so there were enough sugars left for conditioning, without leaving it too thick and heavy. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 46.)

Strong Keeping Ales were attenuated as much as possible. The greater the degree of attenuation, the more easily they blended with other beers. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 46.) But, in order to leave plenty of fermentable material for a long secondary fermentation, they were cleansed at a higher gravity than beers intended for immediate use. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 49.)

Hard water worts did not attenuate as easily as soft water worts and often needed extra yeast. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 47.)

Brewing materials 1850 - 1880

Still waiting for "Malts and Malting" to arrive, so the following section on malt is likely to be radically revised at some point. As you'll see, the information is mostly taken from "The Brewer" by William Loftus.

It should help clarify the status of blackstrap a little. Molasses was specifically mentioned as an illegal ingredient that was used as a substitute for malt.


Brewing materials

Malt
Grain for malting was piled into stacks and left to "sweat" for a minimum of 2 to 3 months. The first stage of the process was "steeping", where the grains were soaked in plenty of water for two to three days. Aftrer the water had been drained off, the grains were put into a frame called a "couch". After 26 hours heat was generated as germination began. The grain was spread thinly on the floor to stop it overheating and to allow germination to progress. After six days, the grain was sprinkled with water to further encourage germination. The grains began to sprout and after about 14 days, to prevent further growth of the plant, they were dried in a kiln to produce finished malt.


These were the types of malt available:

Pale malt: Slow drying in the kiln over four days gave this malt its pale colour and boosted the sugar content. Good pale malt gave a yield of 76 to 84 pounds of extract per quarter. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 37.)

Porter, back or patent malt. Roasted in a cylinder in a similar way to coffee at a temperature of 370º to 450º. Its main use was to colour Porter and Stout. The quality and colour of this malt were very variable. Some maltsters used low-quality barley in its preparation, resulting in almost charred grains with poor solubility, flavour and colour. Good quality black malt was made from the best malt and had a chocolate brown colour.

Brown malt. This was prepared in a similar way to pale malt, up until the end of the kilning process. The grain was spread in a thickness of 2 inches (50mm), sprinkled with water and the heat quickly raised by adding beech or birch wood to the fire. Brown malt yields was 15 to 20% less fermentable material than pale malt.

Blown malt. This was a variation of brown malt. Moist grain was spread about half an inch thick on a wire kiln. They were heated at a very high temperature whilst being constantly turned, until the grains suddenly increased in size. The fuel used was fern, straw or wood. The yield from blown malt was 18 to 25% less than from pale malt.

(Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, pages 15-20.)


Adulterants
William Loftus lists many illegal ingredients and adulterants used by unscrupulous brewers. Molasses, sugar and raw grain were used as substitutes for malt. Spanish liquorice root and black resin as colourings. Gentian, marsh trefoil and quassia were hop substitutes. Salt of steel was used to aid head retention and copperas to colour the head brown. To make a beer appear stronger, coculus indicus, tobacco, opium and nux-vomica were added. Hartshorn shavings were used as finings, ground sea shells or marble dust were used to reduce acidity, along with a whole range of other chemicals.

All of the above ingredients were illegal and the fines for brewers caught using them considerable.

(Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, pages 20-21.)


Hops
These were some of the types of hops commonly available:

Kent hops, grown around Canterbury, were considered to have the best flavour. They were used in keeping beers and Porter.

Farnham hops were the next best after Kent hops. These were recommended for London Ales.

North clays were grown in Nottinghamshire and were named after the heavy soils in which they grew. Their strong, unpleasant taste meant they were only much use in strong keeping beers.

Worcesters had a mild, pleasant flavour.

Sussex hops divided opinions. Some brewers liked their distinctive flavour, while others hated it.

(Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 33.)

According to Loftus, the best hops were "of the latest growth, and of 8 to 10 months old, as many of their valuable properties dissipate with longer keeping." (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 31.)


Water
The best water, according to Loftus, was hard spring water from chalky soils, such as that at Burton. He did warn that hard water worts required a higher pitching temperature than worts brewed with soft water. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 33.)

Brewing IPA in 1839

More half-written stuff from my book. I hope I'm noting boring you too much with it.

I want to run through the mashing scheme of an IPA brewed by Reid in 1839. The brewing log is easier to understand than many, so it's a good one to look at more closely.

The ingredients were about as simple as you can get: 100 quarters of Hertfordshire white malt and 2660 pounds of 1838 East Kent hops. The hopping rate was 5.88 pounds per barrel and the OG 1057º.

Here's the mashing details:


The first column shows the number of barrels of water, the second their temperature. The third column is the temperature of the wort when drawn off. Time is pretty self-explanatory - the number of minutes the operation took. The Final column ids headed "How worked" in the original. I'm pretty sure M stands for mash and S for sparge.

To summarise, there were two mashes of 90 and 60 minutes, the first with a striking heat of 172º F, the seconds at 190º F. Then were two sparges which were left to rest in the grains for 40 and 15 minutes at tempertures of 186º F and 175º F. The next sparge was with the taps open, using water at 150º F. There was a final sparge, again with the taps open, using cold water.

Is that a strange way to mash? It certainly sounds quite fiddly.

Next are the boiling details:


The first column shows the gravity of the worts collected from the mash tun, in pounds per barrel. In SG, they are 1094.18, 1047.09, 1018.01. Column 2 has the wort volume in barrels. Columns 3 and 4 I think show the details at the end of the boil. Time boiled is pretty obvious. You'll note that the weaker worts were boiled much longer, presumably to boost their gravity.

The final 3 columns are the details of the worts in the fermenter (square). There the three worts a re blended to produce a combined wort of 20.5 pounds per barrel, or 1057º.

Below is a scan of the original log.

Ale Brewing circa 1850 (part one)

Time for some more brewing instructions. These are from William Loftus's "The Brewer", published in 1856.

It looks a pretty old-fashioned method, using three or four mashes, each lasting a few hours.

In part two, I'll relate the details of boiling, fermentation, cleansing, racking and ageing.


Mashing
Water was heated to 184º F in the liquor copper and transferred to the mash tun. When the water had cooled to about 180º F the malt was dropped from the hopper into the mash tun and mixed well with the water.

The precise mashing temperature varied depending on the type of water, malt and the brewer's preference. In general, hard water required a lower temperature. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, pages 34-35.)

In mild weather, these were the striking temperatures recommended by Loftus:

_________ hard water__ soft water
1st mash___178º F_____182º F
2nd mash___184º F____188º F
3rd mash___188º F_____186º F
(Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 36.)

The first mash lasted at least two hours, longer as long as the temperature could be kept above 146º F. The remaining two mashes were between and and two hours. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 37.)

The third mash was either mixed with the other two worts, kept as a return for a later brew of used to make Table Beer. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 38.)

Any remaining extract left in the grains could be retrieved by mixing with water (one barrel for every 1.25 quarters of malt) at a temperature of 198º F. After stirring and allowing the mash to stand for 30 minutes, it was put into the copper with some spent hops and, with the fire damped, allowed to stand all night. By the next day, evaporation had reduced the volume by a third and brought the gravity up tp 1022-25º. This was used to make a Table Beer. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 39.)


Boiling
Loftus suggested a short boil: just 1 hour. "To boil it for a lonnger time is wasteful and pernicious, both to the extract of the malt and to that of the hop." (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 40.) In order to avoid the need for a longer boil (to increase the gravity of the wort) brewers should try to hit the right gravity during mashing. "The gravity of the wort does not increase in proportion as the length decreases by evaporation." Loftus warns. (Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, page 41.)

Early 18th century beer styles (part two)

I know I've already posted on this topic. But I've done some more work since then. So I have a few more styles for your delectation.

Note: the following was written using 18th century terminology. Malt Liquor general, Beer and Ale specific. OK?


Mild Ale
A further method of classifying malt liquors was their age. Ones sold young were described as Mild. Ones that had been aged were called Keeping or Stale. Most (but not all Ales) were sold "mild", but some beers were, too. Porter is a good example of a Brown Beer that was often sold "mild" from the 1700's right up until its demise in the 1940's. The big London brewers all made Mild Porter and Keeping Porter, which were often mixed before sale.

You can see that in the 1700's Mild Ale was a very vague term. It covered Ales of all colours and all strengths. It wasn't as much as style as a description of the level of conditioning. None of the beers described as Mild Ale at this time has any but the slightest similarity with modern Mild. Even the weakest would have had an OG of at least 1050º. Mild Brown Ale, brewed from 100% brown malt must have had the roasty flavour of London Porter, just with a much lower level of hopping.


Small Beer
When brewing a stronger Beer or Ale, a quantity of Small Beer was also made from the same grain. Quite often, the same hops were used, too. Though it was usual to add some fresh malt before the first Small Beer mash. It was produced quickly and intended to be drunk young, basically as soon as the fermentation had finished and it had dropped bright.

Intire Small Beer was not party-gyled with a stronger malt liquor, but brewed from its own mash. It was a new method of producing a higher-quality type of Small Beer. There were versions made from all three base malts.

These low-alcohol drinks were always made as Beers not Ales. The higher hopping rate of a Beer was needed to prevent infection, there being too little alcohol to give protection. At somewhere around 3.5% ABV, these Beers were of a similar strength to modern British session Bitter. In the days before easy access to clean drinking water, Small Beer was the everyday drink of young and old. It was seen as a necessity, not a luxury.

Low-alcohol Beers and Ales continued to be made in large quantities until the middle of the 19th century, when the provision of clean drinking water improved.


Burton Ale
Long before Pale Ale, Burton was already famous for its Ales. Burton had been renowned for its Brown Ales since the late Middle Ages.

"The Ale is incomparable here, as it is all over this County of Stafford. Burton is the most famous Town in England for it, as also Stafford-and Newcastle in this Shire. And indeed the best Character you give to Ale in London, is calling it Burton Ale; from whence they fend vast Quantities to London : Yet they brew at London some that goes by that Denomination." "A Journey Through England" by John Macky, 1722, page 168


White Ale
"Their white Ale is a clear Wort made from pale Malt, and fermented with what they call ripening, which is a Composition, they say, of the Flower of Malt, Yeast and Whites of Eggs, a Nostrum made and sold only by two or three in those Parts, but the Wort is brewed and the Ale vended by many of the Publicans; which is drank while it is fermenting in Earthen Steens, in such a thick manner as resembles butter'd Ale, and sold for Twopence Halfpenny the full Quart. It is often prescribed by Physicians to be drank by wet Nurses for the encrease of their Milk, and also as a prevalent Medicine for the Colick and Gravel. But the Dover and Chatham People won't drink their Butt-Beer, unless it is Aged, fine and strong." "London and Country Brewer", 1736.

London trip

Tesco have invited me to judge in their Drinks Awards again this year. They don't seem worried that I don't have a certificate to say I'm a qualified beer judge. But we're talking about Britain. No-one gives a toss about that sort of meaningless qualification.

It's a paid gig. Well, they slip you a few quid for expenses. Not that it covers my costs, but it does help subsidise my stay in London. I'll be in town for 3 days. There'll be plenty of time for the archives. And hopefully a visit to Fuller's (If the nice brewer from Fuller's is reading, would the afternoon of Tuesday 30th September be OK for dropping by?)

Yes, I'll be fitting in a lot. Handily, the judging takes place just around the corner from the White Horse in Parson's Green. (I wonder if they've replenished their stock of Harvey's Russian Stout? Me and my fellow judges polished off all they had last year.)

The roastiness of Porter and Stout

I've been thinking a lot about roast. What was the relative roastiness of Porter and Stout?

My thoughts were prompted by comments on my assertion that Porter was roastier than Stout, based on the percentage of black malt in the grist. As Lachlan so rightly pointed out, allowance should also be made for the relative strength of the worts and the presence of brown malt.

So here's a relative roastiness calculation for various Porter and Stouts. The calulation is simple:

og of wort * %age of black malt * 1200 (EBC colour) +
og of wort * %age of black malt * 180 (EBC colour)
= roast quotient.

By this method, 1877 Reid Rg Porter is the roastiest, with a quotient of almost 9,000. The least roasty is 1851 Barclay Porter TT Porter with a quotient of just under 6,000.

Is this a fair method?

I've just thought of a method of checking this calculation. By comparing my 1914 Whitbread Porter and SSS. I know the brown and black malt content of both.

Yeast circa 1900

Another short post today. I have to go to the cinema with the kids in 10 minutes. Star Wars Clone Wars is what we're going to see. Exactly the sort of intellectual stimulation I need on a Sunday morning.

Brettanomyces Stock Ale was a strong Beer which was matured for many months or years and then blended with young beers or ales to give them the aged flavour. It was called Stock because a stock of it was kept in the brewery. It was rarely sold just by itself (I've only found a product called Stock Ale or Beer a couple of times in old brewery price lists).

The "aged" taste, as was discoverd when it was isolated in 1903 by the Dane Niels Hjelte Claussen (who worked at the Carlsberg brewery in Copenhagen), came from the action of Brettanomyces. Experiments in Britain the early 1900's showed that when a finished pasteurised beer was innoculated with Brettanomyces it acquired the typical aged taste within 10 to 14 days. The application of this technique would have made the production of Stock Beers much quicker and more reliable. Except that the demand for such beers had all but evaporated by the start of the 20th century.


Pure Yeast Cultures
In "Brewing Science and Practice: Volume II Brewing Processes" (H. Lloyd Hind, London, 1940, pages 800-802) there's another interesting passage about Hansens work with single-cell yeast strains. It discusses experiments at the Worthington brewery in Burton in the 1880's brewing beer with pure strains. The conclusion was that pure strains did not produce better than mixed strains and in fact had some disadvanatges during secondary fermentation, such as conditioning more slowly in the cask and producing beers which did not age well. It was not recommened for use in beers that were to be kept more than 6 weeks after racking. It says that at the time (1940) only a handful of British brewers used pure strains.

Late 19th century beers

It's the weekend. Last night, though very enjoyable, has taken its toll.

I led a lively group of enthusiastic drinkers from Detroit on a crawl of some of Mokum's best boozers. So excuse me if I'm a little slow today. I've said in the past "Outdrink me, and you get the tour half price." Thank Stalin I forgot to mention that yesterday.

My fragile state today is a result of their contagious enthusiasm. That's what I told Dolores. Don't grass me up.


This stuff is about the late 19th century. No, it isn't properly written I know. It's been a long day.


Organisation of the Industry
Surprisingly, even the largest breweries, such as Whitbread, Barclay Perkins and Truman, operated as partnerships up until almost the end of the 19th century. Starting around 1880, most were transformed into limited companies. The capital generated by share issues was used to buy public houses. Legislation to limit the number of on licences, or even reduce them, prompted breweries to start buying pubs to secure outlets.

As a result of breweries frantic buying, the price of pubs in London rocketed. A pub in Hackney that had cost £9,500 in 1892, was sold for £23,000 in 1897. Another that in 1895 cost £20,000 was resold in 1897 for £32,000. When you consider that a pint of beer cost 2d at the time, these are incredible sums.

Small wonder that some breweries, such as Allsopp, ended up in financial difficulties through overpaying for pubs. According to Mr Reeve, manager of the Truman Brewery, talking in 1897, a pub paid the brewery, on average, £50 for spirits and £100 for beer a month. That's £1,800 a year. At that rate it would take decades to earn back the £20,000 or £30,000 the pub cost to buy.

Pubs became so valuable that some people began to trade in buying and selling them. Not always in a very honest way. One trick was to deliberately order more beer than they could sell and to just pour most of it down the drain. The brewery would be impressed with the amount of beer shifted and when the trickster offered to sell it to them would snatch his hands off.


"During the last 35 years houses have gone up enormously in value. It began by the loan of one million made to the Cannon Brewery by Mr. McCalmont. With this money the brewery set to tie houses. The brewers looked on without minding until they found that their trade was being
touched and affected irrecoverably. Then they set to work to buy also. Prices went up with a run. Then came the Deat Duties act and increased difficulties about the subdivision of property held by partners jointly for the purposes of taxation. So that brewers found themselves at the
same time wanting more money and a simpler method of recognizing their own personal property.

They turned their businesses into Companies in consequence.

Mr. Bramham gave as an example a public house in the parish of St. John´s Hackney. In 1892 this house with a lease of 49 years at a rental of £105 per annum was bought for £9500.

In 1895 £8,700 was stated to Mr. Bramham as the price that had been paid for it.

This year 1897. It has been resold for £23,000.

Another house he mentioned as being sold in 1895 for £20,000 and resold this year for £32,000 in addition to which the buyer paid £4,000 in its redecoration and internal alteration. These are only two out of many instances Mr Bramham could give."
*Mr. Bramham, Surveyor and Valuer to the Assessment Committee of the Hackney Union*
5th October (1897)
/Mr. Bramham. Surveyor and Valuer to the Assessment Committee of the Hackney Union. 115 Bow Road on an introduction from Mr. Young a member of the above committee./
http://booth.lse.ac.uk/notebooks/b347/jpg/221.html

"The price of houses has gone up enormously. Only yesterday a man came to him - a speculator who had bought three "untied" Public Houses and had paid £300,000 for them. One of them being a good deal more valuable than either of the others. There is a great deal of speculation. Men buy houses without any intention of keeping them, do them up, then resell them. Th y have thought for many years that top prices had been reached but they still move upwards. (Noel Buxton said that at present prices they did just pay. The lowest price for a beerhouse in London would be £500 "but anything worth as little as that would not be worth it at all".)"
*Interview with Mr Reeve, manager of Truman, Hanbury and Buxton's Brewery*
Interview with Mr Reeve, manager of Truman, Hanbury and Buxton's
Brewery, Brick Lane, 22 October [1897] (Booth B348, pp62-69)
http://booth.lse.ac.uk/notebooks/b348/jpg/62.html

"The profit on spirit is more than on beer but beer is always the more important item. In not one per cent of their houses is a larger sum paid for spirit than for beer. In a fair house the payment to the brewer per month would be £50 for spirit and £100 for beer."
*Interview with Mr Reeve, manager of Truman, Hanbury and Buxton's Brewery*
Interview with Mr Reeve, manager of Truman, Hanbury and Buxton's
Brewery, Brick Lane, 22 October [1897] (Booth B348, pp62-69)
http://booth.lse.ac.uk/notebooks/b348/jpg/62.html

"The price that are being paid for public houses now is astounding. Carter knows local men who have taken to dealing them to their own profit. They buy up small licensed places, they buy in a great stock of beer, much more than they can sell, a great deal of it they let drain away into the sewers. Then they come to the brewers and ask them to buy their houses pointing out the immense amount of beer they have disposed of. The brewers are only too glad, they have themselves just turned into limited liability companies, they have an immense capital behind them and they bid amongst themselves with the money of their shareholdersfor the possession of licensed houses. A new license is very difficult to get so that it is very important to get hold of houses that are already licensed."
*Interview with Inspector Carter*
B346 pp100-107
http://booth.lse.ac.uk/notebooks/b346/jpg/101.html


"The test of the worth of a house is the amount of beer and spirits sold. lately the prices of houses has been so high that men with local knowledge have made it their business to buy houses "work them up" and then sell them to the Brewers or anyone else who will buy them. There is one "Dyke" who is known for this in the district. He it was who first had the house mentioned above at the corner of Forest Road and Queen´s Road. Then he sold it to a local newsvendor. The newsvendor has just broken and the house has been resold for between £6,000 and £7,000. The bankrupt has returned to his newspapers. There was no reason for the
newsvendor failing, he was a local man and knew the neighbourhood. There is some knavery in working up a house, but Flanagan did not know in what it consisted. Carter in Poplar spoke once or twice of men pouring away beer into the drains in order toshew a large consumption. The greater the consumption the greater the capital value of the house."
*Talk with Inspector Flanagan*
Sep 21 1897
/General police questions with regard to the Dalston subdivsion of the J
Division. Talk with Ispector Flanagan at the Dalston police Station,
Dalston Lane./
Booth B347, pp163-185
http://booth.lse.ac.uk/notebooks/b347/jpg/163.html


"Charrington´s is about the best beer in the neighbourhood. But a great deal of filthy stuff is sold. The Brewers put in as managers men to whom they have advanced large sums. These men must make money. To make money they must adulterate. If they don´t, they lose and the brewers
foreclose. Some firms are very hard. Perhaps the worst are Brewers at the corner of the Bow Road just before you come to the Stratford Bridge; their name is Smith & Garrett and the beer they sell is bad. Taylor Walker in Limehouse used to be large brewers and do a great Indian trade as well as own the houses in Limehouse. But the India trade has failed them and trade has left Limehouse so they are in a bad way now compared to former years."
*Interview with Inspector Carter*
B346 pp100-107
http://booth.lse.ac.uk/notebooks/b346/jpg/101.html

Beer Styles 1850 - 1880

Lots of tables today for all you table fans.

I'm fairly pleased with the overview table. It's only taken me a few years to collect all the information. Just the one hole in it, XXXX Ale. Most of the details are taken from brewing logs, the rest from brewing manuals.

How interested is anyone in old brewing equipment? That's what I'm currently researching. This whole process is proving very educative. Your comments are part of that education. Especially the questions. They've helped highlight much I had neglected.

The roastiness of Porter and Stout is troubling me. Lachlan made a very good point about needing to include brown malt in the roast equation. But do black and brown malt provide equal degrees of roastiness? My guess would be that you'd get more roast from black. Anyone have any ideas on this?


Styles
Though the gravities had, for most styles, declined slightly from the previous period, hopping rates had gone up. In absolute terms (pounds per barrel) as well as relative terms (pounds per quarter of malt). The one exception was Porter, whose gravity remained unchanged.



X Ales
Mild X Ales were very much the fashion of day amongst the labouring classes. At this time most breweries produced several X Ales of different strengths, X being the weakest XXXX or XXXXX the strongest. Like most other British beers of the period, they were brewed from 100% pale malt. Its increased popularity was mostly at the expense of Porter.


Stock Ales
In addition to a range of Mild X Ales, breweries also offered a range of Stock Ales, their relative strength indicated by a number of K's. These usually ranged from KK to KKKK. Their gravity was identical to the equivalent X Ale, but the hopping rate was approximately 25% greater.

The table below shows the relationship between Barclay Perkins X Ales and Stock Ales.



IPA
The best-quality ingredients were recommended for India Pale Bitter Ale, as William Loftus so quaintly names the style. The palest pale malt and the very best, and palest, Kent hops - Farnhams, Golding's or East Kents. Loftus suggested stepping the hops in water at 142 and 172º F for nine hours before use to help a better extraction. The spent hops could be retrieved from the hop back and used in Porter.

Fermentation was slow and cool, with a pitching temperature of 55 to 62º F. The temperature of the wort only increased by 3 or 4º F in the first two days, during which time the gravity dropped 20-25º. When the wort was down to a gravity of 1019 and at a temperature of 62º F, a third of the yeast head was removed. More of the head was skimmed off when the gravity hit 1014º. When it reached 1011º almost all the head was removed. After two or three days standing to cool and clear, the beer was transferred into casks to mature along with two pounds of the best hops. The casks were rolled once every two days to better infuse the beer with the hops.

(Source: "The Brewer" by William Loftus, 1856, pages 60-61.)



Porter
Until about 1800, all London Porter was matured in large vats (often holding several hundred barrels) for between six and eighteen months before being racked into smaller casks to be delivered to pubs. It was discovered that it was unnecessary to age all Porter. A small quantity
of highly aged beer (18 months or more) mixed with fresh or "mild" Porter produced a flavour similar to that of aged beer. It was a cheaper method of producing Porter, as less beer needed to be stored for long periods. The normal blend was around two parts young beer to one part old.

After 1860, as the popularity of both Porter and the aged taste began to wane, Porter was increasingly sold "mild". In the final decades of the century many breweries discontinued their Porter, though continued to brew one or two Stouts. Those which did still persist with Porter brewed it weaker and with fewer hops. Between 1860 and 1914 the gravity dropped from 1060° to 1050° and the hopping rate from two pounds to one pound per 36 gallon barrel. It was a mere shadow of the beer which had once been so respected and admired.




The 1873 Whitbread Porter is the only London Porter or Stout I've seen that included no brown malt in the grist.