Hartford

I'm in Hartford Connecticut for a day. Not that I'll say an of the town other than my hotel, an office and the train station.

Yesterday wasn't a great beer day. A Miller Lite on the train (much better than I had feared - actually a good bit better than the Lindeboom Pils I drank last week). Then two Sam Adams Boston Lager with my tea. After the reaction of the waitress when I asked what beer they had, I can understand the complaints about uniformed bar staff I often see on beer forums.

No photo today. Because thus stupid hotel has no free wifi. It's like being back in the dark ages.

Oh well, I shouldn't complain. I'll be lucky to get any beer at all today.

New Jersey with Lew

Lew Bryson took me to to a couple of places last night. A chance for me to try some American beers in their natural habitat.

First stop was a brewery. Defiant brewing. Not a brewpub, but, like Het Ij in Amsterdam, a brewery with a bar attached. Come to think of it, more like a brewery with a counter stuck in front of the fermenters. Right down my street.

We didn't have long to sample, arriving just an hour before closing. I kicked off with a Porter. Fairly pleasant and pretty drinkable.

Beer number two was described by the barmaid as "an English Ale with ammarillo hops". It sounded like just the sort of monstrosity I regularly sound off about. It turned out to be surprisingly mild. I'd been looking forward to having my tastebuds stripped.

There was still time for a Stout before we were kicked out. The next bar we tried was closed. Frustrating, as I spotted two handpumps on the bar. So we headed on to the Railroad Cafe. That was open, thankfully. It's a cosy, old-fashioned place. With a small range of craft beers. When Lew told me Railbender (from Erie Brewing) was definitely not a session beer, my choice was made. It was sweetish and a bit chewy. Where were they hiding all the hop bombs? All the beers I'd tried were, well, quite mild. Not quite Mild, but quite mild.

We caught the last five minutes of the Superbowl. I say the last five minutes. That was five minutes playing time. Which equated to 45 minutes elapsed time. The Pittsburgh Steelers won with sconds to go, much to the relief of Lew and most of the other customers.

Today has been much quieter. Just a couple of Boston Lagers with dinner. And maybe some of the bourbon Lew gave me as a nightcap.

Railroad Cafe,
179 Union Avenue,
East Rutherford.

Back in the USA

Well here I am back in the USA. Who o oh, oh, yeah. As the MC5 put it. Without hardly even any delay. And it only took 45 minutes to get through immigration.

I'm in my hotel room. It's so exciting. I noticed there's a bar in the lobby. What am I doing wasting my time here? And I'll be seeing Lew Bryson in half an hour. Just a shame the rest of the week will be nothing but work.

Random beer codes

I'm getting in a big silver bird tomorrow. That's what I told the kids. "What are you talking about, dad?" was their reply. "Aren't you flying to America?" They've no sense of poetry.

I intend posting while away. But I won't have chance today. I've a flight of eight and a half hours and then I'm getting pissed with Lew Bryson. Doesn't leave much time for blogging. So here are some more beer codes for your entertainment.

AK (another theory)

Some like a challenge. I know I do. When I told Mike that the meaning of AK might never be worked out, he took that as a challlenge. Which is good for me. Because he unearthed some new stuff from the interweb.

The first passage discusses the beers brewed by Phipps in Northampton. The author worked as an engineering apprentice between 1950 and 1956.

"During my time there Phipps were producing:

PA and IPA draught and in bottles
Ratcliffs Stout in bottles
Number 10 barley wine in nip bottles (third of a pint)
Brown Ale in bottles (a blend of PA and Ratcliffs Stout)
Bottling Guinness under contract from Park Royal.AK draught for internal consumption (allowance beer)

AK was the workers allowance beer and of low gravity between 1030 and 1032. In relation to its gravity it was over hopped and very palatable when consumed with bread and strong cheese. It was said to be a product that had been specifically brewed for farm labourers to drink during harvest time! In addition to allowance beer it might have been sold commercially as SPA for special outdoor events, village fetes & galas, etc."Tom Whapples, Phipps' Brewery Engineer describes the Bridge Street plant.http://phipps-nbc.co.uk/6.html

It's interesting that it's called an "allowance beer", that is beer given to workers as part of their employment terms. It was common in the 19th century for farmers to partly pay their workers in beer, especially at harvest time. Harvest beers were weaker than standard pub beers. The ones I've seen in price lists were usually 10d a gallon, which equates to a gravity of no more than 1045º.

A dictionary of Lancashire dialect has this entry:

"Lowance – allowance (Ale drunk at harvest time)"
http://dunkerley-tuson.co.uk/glossarylancsdialect.aspx

confirming the use of the term "allowance" for beer given to harvesters.

Not only agricultural workers received beer as part of their pay. Those performing certain types of heavy industrial work got beer, too. This is a recollection written in 1936 by Robert Greenhalgh of Atherton, Lancashire, who had been born in 1855:

"At the period I am writing about, the houses could be open all the hours of the week, night and day. I well remember an incident that occurred in my apprentice days just after the restriction of the 11 o'clock closing time. We were repairing a colliery winding engine which had broken down and, as was usual in those days, the manager sent one of the labourers with a two gallon bottle for the allowance beer to the Bull & Butcher at Dangerous Corner just before closing time."
http://www.nyt.co.uk/athertonhistory.htm

(I love the idea of a pub called the Bull & Butcher at Dangerous Corner. I wonder if it still exists?)

Here's Mike's basic point: could the A in AK be derived from "Allowance"? It certainly fits with AK being lighter than other beers. And I can't say that I have a better theory. What do you reckon?

Fuller's beers 1887

It's been an interesting and productive week. Mostly consumed in a discussion of 19th century beer codes. It's been useful to get some other views. Many thanks to those that have provided them.

Particular thanks to Gary Gillman who pointed me in the direction of a Fuller's ad from 1893. Why am I so grateful for that? Because I have photos of Fuller's brewing records for 1887. The two match up nicely. So I can see the exact details of the beer, how they were described to the outside world and their price. I'm so excited.

Unfortunately, there are only a couple of K's in there. XK, AK, XXK. But I can detect a pattern in their use. X represents the standard base strength of 1055º. It's worth mentioning at this point that 1055º was a highly significant gravity at the time. Tax was levied per "standard barrel", 36 gallons at 1055º. You can find a fuller explanation of a standard barrel here http://www.europeanbeerguide.net/ukstats.htm#bulk

It seems to me as if A is being used to designate a beer below the standard 1055º gravity. The K is added to beers which are not mild, i.e., those not sold young: Bitter, Light Bitter, Old Ale.


I'd forgotten to mention that there is a use of A that I do understand. During WW I, breweries introduced a new low-gravity Mild that had its gravity and price regulated by government. They had designations such as GA (Government Ale) and Ale 4d (4d was the price per pint). These beers survived into the interwar period and were the cheapest beers sold in pubs, selling for 4d a pint when standard Mild cost 5d or 6d and Bitter 7d or 8d. Barclay Perkins brewed three Milds in the 1930's: A, X and XX at gravities of around 1032, 1037 and 1042 and a price per pint of 4d, 5d and 6d.

The A in Fuller's AK seems to fit that convention. Of course, using this method, the names XAK and XXAK would make no sense. But I gave up expecting a universal explanation years ago. A partial one will do fine.

Before anyone mentions it, I had noticed that the IPA is stronger than the standard XK Bitter. It's also the most expensive beer, in terms of price per gravity point, costing 50% more than Porter. With the weakest beer having a gravity of 1050, there wasn't anything very sessionable in Fuller's range.

Rake mashing machine

I forgot to mention this last week. When James and Oz were visiting a whisky distillery in last week's programme, they had a great bit showing an ancient-looking rake masher in action. It's been the highlight of the series for me so far.

The rake masher looked at least a century old. Maybe even older. I've only seen illustrations of thesee machines in old brewing manuals. I'd wondered exactly how they moved. Well, now I do. So thank you, James and Oz.

I suppose I should file this post under "sad old obsessive".

K's, X's, A's, B's, C's and numbers.

I'm an idiot. Have I said that already? Just in case you missed it first or two hundred and thirtyseventh time around: I'm an idiot.

I hoofed the rugby ball blindly away before anyone could use the excuse of a "tackle" to hammer me into the frozen ground. But neglected to provide the information that's reduced me to a metaphoring imbecile. So here they are:

loads of cryptic beer names from price lists

There's a CC in there. Other weird ones, too. From Godsell & Sons: AK, AKK, AB, A1.

If others want to contribute to my table, that would be great. I don't have time to look through all the online directories and other sources. I'll make the results public. The more examples there are, the . . . I was going to say "the patterns are to identify". In reality, it'll most likely just get more confusing.

Just remember this:

Mild = young.

Mild Bitter might sound weird today, but you have to remember that it just means a beer sold young, nothing else. Mild Ale, Mild Porter, Mild Bitter. It's the second half of the name that's important.

More K's

I've already mentioned some of the following in a comment to an earlier post. But I'm worried I'll forget where it is, so I'm converting it to a post of its own. If you see what I mean. Must have left my writing head at home today

Here are the vital statistics of Fuller's X, AK and PA:


You'll note that the hopping rate of the AK (in terms of pounds of hops per quarter of malt) is exactly halfway between the hopping rate of the PA and X.

Barclay Perkins are a good choice for comparing K and X Ales. As you'll see in the table below, the corresponding X and K Ales had the same OG, but the K's were more heavily-hopped.


Last time at the London Metrolpolitan archives I photographed some Ale logs that also demonstrated the relationship between X and K Ales. I think they were Truman's logs. The beers were called X, XX, XXX and KXX, KXXX, KXXXX. You see the same K prefix used with, for example, Porter. It always means a Keeping version. Truman's Porter's were always prefixed by either Runner or Keeping. You had things like Country Runner, Keeping Double Stout, etc.

I must try to get through the relevant logs. I'm sure they will broaden our knowledge.

Brown malt (yet again, again)

Today it's the turn of 20th century brown malt. I'm lucky to have been provided with a good first-hand account of brown malt manufacture.

The method described appears very similar to that employed in the 19th century, with faggots of wood being used to fuel the kiln. Smoke was deliberately allowed to come into conmtact with the malt in order to flavour it. This is in sharp contrast to the 18th century method, where straw was usually used (in Hertfordshire") as fuel. And, unlike the praise heaped open the "empyrheumatic" flavour of 19th century brown malt, 18th century maltsters tried to avoid any smokiness.

"Hertfordshire had many Brown Malt Kilns and together with Norfolk, provided
almost the total production of Brown Malt.

The kilns tended to be small with a capacity of about 2 Quarters (672 pounds) and were funnel shaped above the bed of malt. The top of the kiln had a cowl, that in many cases turned with the wind, so that themetal top was always facing downwind.

The bed of the kiln itself was made of woven wire (not wedgewire commonly used for later kilns) and this was maintained to the end of production.

Barley was always used and was subjected to screening, then put in tanks of water (steeps) where it remained for up to 72 hours. The grain was then thrown out on to floors where it remained in heaps (couching) for24 hours. It was then spread out to a depth of about 5 inches. It wasturned by hand to stop the roots, then developing, from mattingtogether. In the case of Brown Malt the green malt was left to "seer"off or become very withered over a period of about 14 days and was then spread very thinly on the kiln (about 2 to 3 inches thick).

The kiln was fired by Faggots and poles. Faggots are brushwood about 3 feet long and were held together by a forked branch at the base. The brushwood was held in place by a "tyer" of strong string. The wood was always hornbeam. The poles were again hornbeam with a thickness of about3 inches and again about 3 to 4 feet long. The idea was to start thefire with faggots until colour was gained by the malt itself (using last year's drier crop). At this point the malt was turned off the kiln. Avery hot job. It was not surprising that 2 gallons of beer were drunk before breakfast!!

The process was very dangerous from a fire point of view and many brown malt kilns were burnt down. Our own in Stanstead Abbots were brought to the ground in 1902.

A modern equivalent of Brown Malt is produced in a roasting cylinder,but lacks the smoky flavour of the true material.

Production ceased in about 1957, when many smaller maltsters were being taken over, and with the very small amount being needed in modern brewing, it no longer became economic, particularly with the hugeinsurance premium being charged."
"The Production of Brown Malt", Guy Horlock , 2002/2009 (Curator, French & Jupps Museum, Stanstead Abbotts,Hertfordshire)

Many thanks to Michael Newman who provided me with the above text. Fascinating stuff, I'm sure you'll agree.

Whitbread were customers of French & Jupp, buying both brown and black malt from them. They appear in the brewing logs just as "French".

Frightening the kids

I just scared the kids stupid. I was shouting at the television. It happens more often than I would care to admit.

"No, no!!!!!!!!! That's total f****** crap!!!!!!"

Why was I shouting? Porter and Stout. No change there. It's a topic that often makes me scream. To be more specific, Oz Clarke's potted history of Porter. It was just on. You missed it? A couple of minutes of myth.

To be honest, I rarely get through a television piece about beer without shouting or swearing of any kind. The treatment of beer in mainstream media is even more annoying than beer forums. And that's saying something.

Anyone know how to get in touch with Oz Clarke. Someone needs to put him straight about Porter.

Nice cameo from Beernut, though. Looks a good laugh, the Bull & Castle.

Beer code (again)

I've been thinking about that Henry Lovibond advert. It's the sort of thing I do on the tram in the morning. Stare out of the window and think about 19th century brewhouse beer names. That's not weird, is it

These old price lists have a certain fascination. Shall I tell you what strikes me about this one?

The large number of Bitter Ales. Five in all, if you include XXXXB. That's unusual. Most breweries only produced a PA and maybe an IPA. The range of strengths is vey wide, too. The XB, at just 15 shillings for 18 gallons couldn't have been more than 1045º. That's very weak for a 19th century Pale Ale, even a Light Bitter. At the other end of the spectrum, XXXXB at 2 shillings a gallon must have been closer to 1100º I've never seen another beer that strong described as Bitter.





The Milds are pretty much what you would see everywhere. Except that they would usually start at X

It's clear that strength is being indicated by the number of X's. It's unusual to see this system applied to Pale Ales and I can't think of another example where I've seen it applied to AK. The standard method is to add more K's, i.e. AK, AKK

Talking of AK, the term "Intermediate Ale" is an interesting one. I'm not sure precisely what it nmeans. What follows is a guess. The beers are clumped together in four groups: Mild Ales, Pale Bitter Ales, Intermediate Ales, Stout and Porter. I understand what some of the se mean. Mild Ales are unaged, relatively lightly-hopped. The PAle Bitter Ales would certainly have been hoppier and probably had a little age on them. I think we all understand what Porter and Stout mean. So that leaves the Intermediate Ales. The description of AK as "Mild Bitter" implies to me that it's an unaged ("Mild") hoppy beer.

Of course, I could be talking crap again. More investigation is required.


Note:
The OG's are an educated guess based on the price, description and similar beers from other London brewers.

Rotterdam

With zero days to spare we used the last of our cheap Kruidvat train tickets on Sunday. We'd thought of going to Den Helder/Texel. Then we saw the weather forecast: rain and strong winds. Not exactly the best weather for a ferry journey, however short. After much humming and Hawing, we settled on Rotterdam as destination.

Have I mentioned that I used to live in Rotterdam? I usually keep it pretty quiet. Especially when there are Amsterdammers around. The cities have precious little in common, except for a tram system and a harbour. Rotterdam's aesthetically challenged city centre I can only take in small doses. I never tire of downtown Amsterdam.

The main purpose of the trip (aside from using up the train tickets) was to take a look at an exhibition of Roman stuff. The kids quite like that sort of thing. Me too, to be honest. The exhibition itself was fine. The same can't be said of the Kunsthal (http://www.kunsthal.nl/). What a crap building. The walls are made out of the same transluscent, corrugated plastic sheets we used to fix the roof on our shed. Very classy. The entrance of so convenient (halfway down a ramp) that they need a 3-metre long flashing arrow to show you where it is. Contemporary design at its finest.

After a couple of hours looking at statues with chipped or missing noses, it was time for refreshment. The centre Rotterdam isn't great for beer pubs. It isn't great for pubs full stop. The only brewpub is well out of the centre in Rotterdam's only historic remainder, Delfshaven. The two beer pubs are to the East of the centre and neither opens until the early evening. That cut the choice down to . . . . one. Doelencafé. The pub attached to the Doelen theatre.

Doelencafé is on one of the ugliest squares in Europe. No, I should be fair. One of the ugliest squares in the whole universe. The square is "decorated" with four giant hydraulic arms that sometimes move about. Expensive, difficult to maintain, pointless and hideous to look at. The buildings lining the square are an incoherent jumble of cinema, appartment blocks and theatre, none of which bear any relationship - in terms of architecture, size, function or materials - to each other. Though there is a pretty decent chip van usually parked in one corner.

True to form, one side of the square is currently a building site. There's something disturbing about Rotterdam's need to keep rebuilding itself. Many central plots already have two postwar developments behind them. Maybe they'll get it right eventually. But I doubt it. The city hasn't got any prettier since I lived there. Just taller.

But this is a beer blog not an architectural blog. I'd better say at least something related to my theme. The reason I'd chosen Doelen wasn't a huge beer list. It has 10 draught and about 20 bottled. But amongst the draughts are three from Pelgrim, the brewpub in Delfshaven. We entered and sat down.

Several waiters and waitresses passed our table. Then several more. Finally Dolores said "If we don't get served in 2 minutes, I'm leaving." Which must have been the magic words because a waitress immediately appeared to take our order. I picked a Pelgrim Tripel.

After taking a sip, I gave it to Dolores to try. "It tastes unusual. Not in a good way. At first it's like medicine, then like nothing." Well worth the 10-minute wait for service, then. We just had the one drink.

What's happening to me? Just one beer on a day out. I must be turning sensible.


Doelencafé
Schouwburgplein 52,
3012 CL Rotterdam.
Tel.: 010- 414 86 88
Fax. 010 - 213 26 58
informatie@doelencafé.nl
http://www.doelencafe.nl/

Northern New Jersey pub advice

Looks like I'll be in the States next week. Northern New Jersy to be precise. It's a work thing. My new employers are sending me for a week's training. Assuming that they won't be locking in my hotel room, I expect to drink the odd beer or two. So here's my question: anyone know some decent places to drink in the vicinity of Hillsdale?

Other Barclay Perkins beers in the 1920's

As promised, here are the remaining Barclay Perkins beers. I've now covered all 5 draught styles.




I had thought that the Cannon brewery scores were pretty poor. But just to check, I've made a direct comparison between Cannon and Barclay Perkins.

As you can see, overall Barclay Perkins beers did score a little better, the average being just below 1. Then again, only two Cannon beers had negative scores, as opposed to 3 Barclay Perkins beers. Bizarrely, the two breweries' Pale Ales scored exactly the same, 0.09. The biggest difference is between the Porters. Barclay Perkins Porter was their highest scoring beer, Cannon's Porter their lowest scoring.

Both breweries' KK Strong Ales had negative scores. The pattern so far seems to be this: atick to standard Bitter and Mild.

This is so much fun that I'm going to continue on through the other London breweries. Then I can make a league table. Then, should you find yourself in 1920's London, you'll know which brewery's pubs to avoid.

Barclay Perkins Porter and Stout quality in the 1920's

I told you I'd get back to the Whitbread Gravity Book this weekend. Barclay Perkins Porter and Stout (as you may have guessed from the title) is today's topic.

As with the Cannon Brewery, I've scored beers based on the comments about flavour and appearance. The technique may be the same, but the results aren't.



The Porter manages a positive score - 0.22 to be precise - while the Stout gets a pathetic 1.31. Only 3 of 13 Stout samples sound like they were drinkable. Whereas only 3 of 9 Porter samples were below par.

Fascinating, eh? Tomorrow it's the turn of KK, PA and X.

KKK

When you start digging around in the past, you have to be prepared to unearth the unexpected. The surprises aren't always pleasant. Especially if you have a theory that you're particularly fond of.

I've spent years trying to decode brewhouse names. XXX, KK. Those things. After rummaging through volumes of London brewing records, some of it started to make sense. The X's, K's and S's were sorted.

You may have read the post before this. Where I explained my progress in deciphering the brewer's code. I was quite pleased with it. But it looked a bit dull without an illustration. What better than an old brewery advert full of X's? I wasn't expecting to find any K's. I'd been singularly unsuccessful in finding those so far.

I know exactly where to look for 19th century brewery adverts: old directories. Leicester University has a searchable collection of directories online. Saves me the trouble of fishing out a brewery history and scanning an advert image. I'm so smart. It didn't take me long to find one. I was fair glowing with smugness. Until I looked at it more closely.

If you looked at the comments of my last post, you'll see a discussion about K Ales. I admitted to having found few K Ales in pricelists. And never having seen a single K. And that all the K Ales I'd seen had been strong. All I can say is this: bloody Kilburn Brewery.

Their advert is a like a squadron of Fairey Swordfishes. Laughably antique, yet my theories lie at the harbour bottom, their hulls perforated by torpedoes. Here are my K's. All the ones I'd not seen: a weak K (under a shilling a gallon: that's below 1050), a KK that was also way too cheap (barely more than ordinary Mild) and described as "Pale Bitter Ale". Both the K Ales are called Bitter and there's another beer called Pale Ale. That's buggering not only my view of K Ales as, well, Ales (lightly-hopped) but also challenging the idea that Bitter and Pale Ale were essentially the same thing.

So forget everything I said in my last post. Well, not all of it. I think I got X Ales right. And S's.

You can't ignore evidence just because it's annoying. That's sort of the point of what I'm doing. Better to see today as a triumph. A day where I learned something new. I don't understand K's at all.

Beer code

The codes used in the 19th century to designate different beers fascinate me. I'm talking letters and numbers. All those X's and K's. And numbers, too, like Bass's No.1 to No.6. But what the hell do they mean?

I'm pretty sure I've cracked the X's. They are the simplest method of strength indication. The most likely explanation for their origin is, as so much about beer, all to do with tax. Pre-1830, there were, for tax purposes, two classes of beer: Table Beer and Strong Beer. The former was taxed at the rate of 2s 6d per barrel, the latter at 10s.

There were strict rules about marking and keeping separate the two types of beer. One of the simplest fiddles was to mix Table and Strong Beer and sell it as Strong. Judging by Accum's analyses, in the first decades of the 19th century this practice was rife. I know for certain that barrels of Table Beer had to be marked with a "T". Barrels of Strong Beer it seems were marked with an "X". Depending on which explanation you believe, this either stood for "eXcise" or was simply the Roman numeral for 10 (the tax in shillings).

The number of X's used, give an indication of a beer's strength. In the early part of the 19th century, breweries usually produced a range of Ales, ranging from X to XXXX, though you occasionally see XXXXX. This system was mostly used to designate Mild Ales, that is Ales sold unaged. Mild did not mean weak. XXXX Ales had gravities up to 1100. X's were also use for Porter. Though a P was often stuck on the end to make it differentiate the names from those of Ales. Guinness called their Porter X, Extra Stout XX and Export Stout XXX. As X's came to be associated specifically with Ales, they were sometimes replaced by S's. Whitbread, with S, SS and SSS is a good example of the use of this naming convention.

Breweries produced a second range of Ales. Stock or Keeping Ales. These were aged before sale. In the first half of the 19th century, these were often designated XXK, XXXK or XXXXK. But, as the century progressed, the names were mostly changed to just K's. So KK, KKK and KKKK. Typically, a brewery would produce X, XX, XXX and XXXX Mild Ales and KK, KKK and KKKK Stock Ales. The equivalent K and X Ales (for example XX and KK) had the same gravity. The only difference was a slightly higher hopping rate for the Stock Ales. Though no-one seemss to have bothered ageing the weakest Ales, so you don't find K Ales.

By around 1900, breweries had reduced the number of X Ales they brewed. The London breweries usually only made one, X. The stronger Mild Ales had mostly died out. The range of Stock Ales had thinned, too. Typical for London breweries was KK and KKK. As ageing went out of fashion, these came to be known as Strong Ales rather than Stock Ales. KK, or Burton as it was usually called in London pubs, was a standard draught beer between 1900 and 1950.
Here are a few random examples from London breweries:

Griffin Brewery Ales 1839
X 1073; XX 1089; XXX 1105
KK 1089; KKK 1105
(Source: Griffin Brewery brewing records)

Griffin Brewery Stouts 1844
S 1073.4º
SS 1087.3º
SSS 1097º
(Source: Griffin Brewery brewing records)

Whitbread Stouts 1873
S 1070
SS 1077
SSS 1091
(Source: Whitbread brewing records)

Barclay Perkins Ales 1869
X 1060; XX 1080; XXX 1093;
KK 1079; KKK 1093; KKKK 1106
(Source: Barclay Perkins brewing records)

Barclay Perkins Ales 1880
X 1060; XX 1079; KKK 1090
(Source: Barclay Perkins brewing records)

Some names, need no explanation. I think most of you have an idea what PA and IPA stand for. Others, have me flummoxed. AK, for example. How I would love to know what that stands for. Or derivatives like AKA and AAK. Answers on a postcard, please.

Breakfast

Andrew came up with a good one yesterday. We were discussing the breakfast customs of different nations. "What do the French have for breakfast?" Quick as a flash Andrew answered "Red wine." How's that for racial stereotyping? Of course, everyone knows it's cognac, not red wine, the French have in the morning.

Sorry about the filler nature of this post. I did have a proper one in mind. Comparing the price per gravity point of Guinness and Whitbread's own beers in the interwar period. My guess is that Guinness was more expensive, as two breweries were takinfg a profit from it. Whitbread are great for comparison purposes as they sold large amounts of Guinness in their pubs but also had a Stout of their own with a very similar profile.

But we're not quite finished with the kitchen. We're looking at tiles this evening. No time for me to go through the spreadsheet. The weekend. Maybe then I'll have time. And time to extract some more dodgy Porters from the Whitbread Gravity Book. There's just so much to do.

New kitchen: the upside

Our house is still chaotic after the installation of a new kitchen. The chaos doesn't just affect the pots and pans. It's had an impact on my beer stuff, too.

I had to empty and move one of my bookcases. One of the ones dedicated to beer. To be honest, a couple of the shelves were a mess, piled with folders of old notes, labels, maps and god knows what else. I really should sort it all out before putting the bookcase back. But it's me we're talking about. I'll probably have some more pressing task - like watching "American Dad" with Lexie - that will distract me.

The kitchen cupboards, I had believed, were free of any beer-related items. Not quite true. The ones we couldn't really get at (long story as to why, so I won't bother trying to explain) held a surprise. Three bottles of beer that must have been there since we moved in twelve years ago. I say bottles, but they're really cork-stoppered earthenware flasks. I'd forgotten all about them.

The sell by dates are all 1991. So they weren't exactly fresh when put in the cupboard back in 1996. And the beers themselves? Hertog Jan Dubbel, Tripel and Grand Prestige. They've been in a cool, dark place. And at a steady temperature. Ideal conditions for ageing. I wonder what they taste like?

I would show you a photo of the new kitchen. But my camera is on the blink. Maybe tomorrow.