Monday, 21 March 2022

Public bar fun

I've been trawling the newspaper archive again. As usual, the stuff about pubs usually recounts tales of drunkenness, violence and mayhem.

I was asked recently whether before WW I, when beer was much stronger, if people really had sessions drinking pints. The answer is: yes. Which is why people regularly got totally plastered. This much is clear from the number of incidents reported in newspapers.  

This is a fairly typical example. Drunk enters pub, is refused service and goes mental.

"PUBLIC BAR PRACTICES
Edward Carter did not appear in answer to a summons for being disorderly in the York Hotel on July 10th, and it was decided take the case in his absence. 

Mr. J. F. Foulds, the Landlord, gave evidence to the effect that about 10 p.m. on the day in question defendant was kicking up a row in the public bar. He had been refused drink, but declined to leave the premises. The whole bar was in an uproar. Witness did not know what it was about, but a general practice was for the unruly ones drink up an old man's beer. They would not try it on young man, who might retaliate. Defendant made use the language which witness had written down. As he would not leave a policeman was sent for. 

Kate Vine, the barmaid, corroborated. A fine 10s. and costs, in default 14 days, was imposed, the Chairman remarking that the language used was "something filthy.” 

Superintendent Bristow observed that the ease was no reflection at all on the York Hotel. The house happened to the last place of call for people leaving the town in that direction."
Bexhill-on-Sea Observer - Saturday 24 July 1909, page 16.

I find it slightly worrying, as an old bastard myself, that some took advantage of a ruckus to nick the beer of old men. Disgraceful behaviour.

Here's another example, with some comic undertones:

"ROW IN A PUBLIC BAR.
AT the Burgh Police Court on Monday — Provost Porteous on the bench — James Laurence, cooper, North Roadside, was charged with having on 2nd January, in Market Street, in the public house occupied by George Gordon, spirit dealer (1) assaulted William Andrew Gray, barman, residing in Albany Street, and did strike him on the face with a roll of bread, which he threw with his hands; (2) behaved in a lawless and disorderly manner, cursed, swore, and used profane language, and challenged said William Andrew Gray to tight, refused to leave the public house and committed a breach of the peace. 

Asked to plead, accused said he was guilty of swearing. 

This was accepted as a plea of not guilty, and evidence was led. 

William Andrew Gray, barman, Albany Street, first gave evidence. He deponed that he was employed in Mr Gordon's bar in Market Street, and knew the accused. On Saturday, 2nd January, accused came into the bar about 2.30. He was the worse of drink, and the man who was along with accused ordered drink. Witness refused to supply them, in comequence of accused's conduct on other occasions, and in consequence of the instructions he had received from Mr Gordon not to supply accused. Laurence was in the habit of being noisy and quarrelsome, and as he was the worse of drink, witness refused to supply him. He started swearing at witness, and then he threw a piece of roll at witness. Witness advised accused to leave the bar, but he did not do so and challenged witness to fight. He challenged everybody to fight, and created a big disturbance, so that a crowd collected. Latterly he left the public house, but witness did not follow him out. The disturbance went on for about half an hour. 


John Harper, cooper, Lower Lochside, deponed being at the Turk's Head bar on the afternoon in question. Witness went into the bar after the disturbance had begun. Accused was there, and was cursing and swearing for William A. Gray, the barman, and challenged him to fight. He was interfering with everybody in the bar. 

Mitchell White, cooper, Lower Lochside, was next called. He stated that he was in the bar before the accused came in. Accused came into the bar with another man, who ordered the drink. He said he would get none, while accused was with him, whereupon accused started swearing. He struck him with a piece of bread. He continued swearing at the barman, and was challenging everybody in the bar to fight. 

In answer to the accused, witness said it was a small piece of bread that was thrown, and it could not hare done much harm. 

Accused, in the witness-box, said he was very sorry for what had taken place, and he would promise it would not happen again. This concluded the evidence. Chief Constable Emslie reviewed the case, stating that the assault was not very serious, but the disturbance was very serious. 

Provost Porteons said that so far as the assault was concerned, the case was not serious, but his conduct in the bar was much more serious, especially the challenging to fight. 

Accused—It takes more than one man to make a row.

Provost Porteons--That may be. but your conduct on this occasion has not been very creditable. It is only the duty of the barman to refuse the drink in the circumstances, and had he done otherwise it would have been a breach of his duty, He, however, refused to supply the man, and it is to the credit of the barman that he did so. I would advise you to give up drink altogether. The penalty is - 15s, with the alternative of ten days' imprisonment. 

Accused went to jail, but paid the fine in the course of the day."
Shetland Times - Saturday 16 January 1909, page 8.

Assault with a bread roll? Not even a whole bread roll. Bit of a laugh, being charged for that. Though Laurence does sound like a nasty drunk. And quite a determined one as he was already steaming by 2:30. Must have been a heavy lunchtime.

Note that both the accused and the two other drinkers called as witnesses were all coopers. Presumably for the whisky trade as they were on Shetland.

Sunday, 20 March 2022

Brown malt 1880 - 1914

More stuff from my salvaged manuscript. So much useful information. And all I need to do is tidy it up a bit.

Not left on the withering floor as long as other malt and spread in the drying kiln no more than 1.5 inches (37.5 mm) thick. Initially the heat was moderate, but when all the moisture in the malt was gone, the heat was suddenly increased by adding oak or beech wood to the fire. The sudden heat caused the grains to swell by 25%. The smoke from the wood gave the finished malt a smoky flavour.

The deliberate addition of wood to create smoke and allowing it to come into contact with the malt is very different from 18th century practice, where every attempt was made to prevent this happening. Though with the much-reduced proportion of brown malt being used in Porter and Stout - a maximum of 20% - the smoky effect would have been much less than in a beer made from 100% brown malt.

The method of making brown malt was changing, for a variety of reasons, one of which was the high risk of a fire.

"it was formerly the custom to dry brown malt also on ordinary kilns, with wire floors, but the labour on these was of a most disagreeable and exhausting character, and brown malt is now generally dried in wire cylinders." 

The presence of diastase in older forms of brown malt is explained by the way it was produced. Diastase is much more sensitive to heat when moist. By first removing all the moisture from the malt at a low temperature, the diastase was not damaged as much by the finishing high heat.   

Other coloured malts were produced in a very different way. To get the desired aroma in the malt, it needed to be heated to 160º F while it still had a moisture content of between 12 and 15%. If the moisture content was below 7 or 8%, the aromas would not be formed and all.

Though London brewers remained loyal to the malt behind the 19th-century Porter revolution, it was rarely present in Stouts brewed outside the capital. I have seen examples of its use in other styles, such as Mild Ale and Burton Ale, but these are relatively rare.
 

Saturday, 19 March 2022

Let's Brew - 1901 Boddington XXXX

Finally, here we are at the pinnacle of the Boddington Mild pile. With XXXX, a beer with a fair bit of clout to it.

Boddington XXXX looks very similar to a London XX Ale. Except they didn’t exist anymore. Despite Mild’s huge popularity, the capital’s brewers restricted themselves to just one example, X Ale. Stronger Milds had died out in the last couple of decades of the 19th century.

At over 6% ABV and 39 (calculated) IBU, it’s not what anyone today would call a Mild. But these beers did exist up until WW I made a total mess of UK brewing. I’ll never forgive Kaiser Bill for that.

With batches of 70-odd barrels, it was brewed in decent quantities for a strong beer. I wonder who drank it? Was it a special weekend treat? Or was there a specific class of drinker that preferred it? Sadly, I have no clue.

The recipe is essentially the same as for all the other Milds: base malt and sugar, loads of different hops, mostly English.

1901 Boddington XXXX
pale malt 14.00 lb 93.33%
No. 3 invert sugar 1.00 lb 6.67%
Cluster 140 mins 0.50 oz
Fuggles 60 mins 1.50 oz
Fuggles 30 mins 1.50 oz
Fuggles dry hops 0.50 oz
OG 1068
FG 1022
ABV 6.09
Apparent attenuation 67.65%
IBU 39
SRM 10
Mash at 152º F
Sparge at 165º F
Boil time 140 minutes
pitching temp 60.5º F
Yeast Wyeast 1318 London ale III (Boddingtons)



Friday, 18 March 2022

Hops 1880 - 1914

I've a huge unfinished manuscript for my original project, a history of UK beer from 1700 to 1973. Far too big to ever be a single book. Which is why I've ended up publishing what would have been chapters as complete books. "Armistice!" and "Austerity!", for example.

I'd forgotten that, as well as containing loads of raw source material,  I'd properly written up many sections. Which is making my life far easier when writing my book after next, "Free!". Some bits I can just lift, others tweak a bit. Plus there's a shitload of raw material I can use as a basis for lots more. How on earth did I forget about this? Well, I did write it more than 10 years ago.

This is a bit I've tweaked.

By 1880, the UK was totally incapable of growing enough hops to satisfy the needs of the local brewing industry. This was the result of two factors: an increase in beer production and a decrease in hop growing.

The only solution was to import large quantities of hops. Mostly from the USA, but also from pretty much every hop-producing country in the world. This continued until WW I, when imports totally dried up. After the war, the reduction in both the strength and quantity of beer brewed meant far fewer hops were required. Hop imports continued, but at a much lower level.

The acreage given over to growing hops was in decline, dropping around 50% between 1880 and 1914. Considerable quantities of hops were imported, amounting to between 30 and 40% of the total used. Harvests were still very variable, as was the price.

In the early 1900s, brewer Mr. P. K. Lemay described five categories of English hops:

1. “Goldings, for pale ale brewing, both for copper use and hopping down;
2. Fuggles, for copper use in mild ales and stouts;
3. Colegates, as a rule a hop rich in lupulin, but rank in flavour; very good copper hops for stouts;
4. Henhams and other varieties of large coarse hops, which from a brewing point of view would be a dear hop to buy;
5. Any class of hops showing mould or aphis blight, which to a brewer would be costly at any price.”  

The first two types, Goldings and Fuggles, would continue to be used for the same purposes well past WW II, While Colegates and Henhams withered into obscurity after WW I.

Hop production and imports (cwt)
year Acreage UK production yield per acre Average price of English hops net imports of foreign hops exports of British hops
        £ s d    
1880 66,698 440,000 6.6 4 6 0 195,987 7,218
1890 53,961 283,629 5.26 10 9 4 181,698 6,164
1900 51,308 347,894 6.78 5 18 8 198,494 14,999
1910 32,886 302,675 9.2 5 6 6 172,032 8,927
1915 34,744 254,101 7.31 6 7 0 199,347 8,288
Source:
1928 Brewers' Almanack, page 119


Thursday, 17 March 2022

Sao Paolo

I get up around 8:30. Should I go downstairs for breakfast? As I'm not hungry, it seems rather pointless.

Instead, I hang around in my room. Writing emails and that sort of shit. I watch some Brazilian football. Cup games. One of the teams has a player called Lineker. I'm guessing that's not his real name.

My first destination is EAP Empório Alto de Pinheiros. It's been highly recommended and is supposedly Sao Paolo's best beer bar. I plan getting there a little after it's opening time of 11:00. I have two options for getting there: up the main road and turn left, or go through the backstreets. I choose the former, as it's far simpler.


It's hot outside. Over 30 C. Glad I put on that sunscreen as there's no shade. I checked the route on Streetview and know exactly where to turn off the main road. I spot a little shop and get myself a bottle of water. It's hot, as I already told you. Far too hot for someone as English as me.

I park my flabby arse at the bar. There are 40 draught beers. What to choose?

Croma Pow! Pow! 7% ABV
One of those new-fangled juicy IPAs. Looks like orange juice and tastes a bit like it. Quite refreshing, which is just as well given the 45 minutes walking I've just done.

I got the longest walk out of the way first. I have several stops planned on my way back to my hotel. I really can't be doing with too much walking in this heat.


I got here 30 minutes after opening. I'm the only customer. I don't care. I hate crowds.

Nothing at all planned today. Other than drink beer and eat food. It's good to have time to relax at the start of a trip.

Dogma Back to Basics V 8% ABV
An American IPA, which I guess means West Coast. Just a slight haze. Quite bitter and not a huge amount of fruitiness. Not as nice as the ones I had in the USA recently, but OK.

You may have noticed that I drink a lot of IPA on my travels. At home, I almost never touch the stuff. Perhaps, the odd pint down Butcher's Tears. Not sure why I suddenly become an IPA fan as soon as leave Holland. Perhaps it's because I travel to the USA so often.

Everyone is still masked up here. Even on the streets. In total contrast to the US. And Holland, for that matter.

Quite a few more punters now it's after midday. Most dining. Not quite that hungry yet myself. I'm saving myself for the next spot, Tank Brewpub.


Satelite Double Space Machine 8% ABV
Double NE IPA.I see that sludge beer has already caught on here. Beer trends spread so quickly nowadays. I guess that's the fault of the internet. The beer isn't as juicy as I would expect. Just looks like orange juice.

I forgot to mention, this is also a shop. They seem to have a pretty good selection, stocking St. Bernardus. but the slot where Abt should be is empty. What a disaster.


Tank isn't that far. When I'm almost there I walk past a little corner bar called Pratty. I have to take a photo. I walk on, then think: that would be a good place for a quick cachaca.

When I ask for one, the barmaid says something I don't understand. She gestures towards a little cask on the bar and to the bottles behind her. I realise that she's asking which one. I point at the cask. Never had draught cachaca before. It costs just 6 reals.

It's pretty quiet in Tank. I guess the last of the lunch trade is just drifting away. I sit at the bar again.

Dank the Tank 6.5%
West Coast IPA. Pretty nice. Fruit aroma, bitter, clear.

I get chatting with the barman. His English is pretty good, which makes things easier. We cover many beery topics. Pretty easy for me. I could speak about beer for months without running out of steam.


He shows me around the brewhouse, which is pretty compact. It has a 5 hl capacity.

I ask him to recommend a beer and he says:

Nao Me Helles 4.8%
It's OK. Quite lagery.

Following this up, I feel like something stronger and get

Double Trouble 8%
Double IPA. Nice and hoppy.

Hunger nibbles my innards. Just a bit. Enough that I ask for the menu. They don't have a physical one, just a QR code. That’s no use to me. Mr. I-can’t-work-my-phone. I have to look at it on the barman's mobile. I opt for fish tacos.



The tacos are pretty good. Not exactly Brazilian, but good. Battered fish and salad between crispy tacos.

My next planned stop is Cervejaria Nacional. But it doesn't open until 16:00 and it's 15:30. I decide to drop by Pratty for another draught cachaca. Earlier, it was packed here. Now I'm the only customer. I guess it is a lunch place.


Just before 16:00 I suddenly feel really tired. Totally knacked, to be honest. Not sure why. I haven't drunk that much. I decide to just head back to my hotel.


On my way out this morning, I noticed a 24-hour shop. I nip in and get a couple of sandwiches and a can of beer. And a bag of crisps.

The beer is Baden Baden IPA. It's not great. It tastes very pasteurised. I notice that it's fruited with maracuja. What is it with all these German beer names?

I lie in bed and watch some footie. One channel seems to be non-stop football.

Mmm. Feeling hungry again. I could get a sandwich downstairs. But the shop isn't far. I head there instead and get another sandwich and a bag of crisps. That's enough for today.

Laphroaig lifts me to my dreams.








Wednesday, 16 March 2022

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1901 Boddington XXX

Here we are at Boddington’s next to best Mild. Quite a hefty little number, weighing in at almost 1060º.

XXX must have been a popular beer. It was usually brewed in batches of 215 barrels, larger than any of the other Milds. X and XXX were mostly under 100 barrels and XX around 150 barrels.

With a higher percentage of sugar, it’s nudging up into what I’d call semi-dark country. Though falling well short of the colour of London Milds. And that’s with me assuming the sugar is the relatively dark No. 3 invert. Any sugar lighter in colour would leave it well in pale land.

There’s little more to tell. Other than the slightly different proportions of malt and sugar, the recipe is the same for the weaker Milds in Boddington’s range.

As usual, four English and one Californian type of hops graced the copper.

1901 Boddington XXX
pale malt 11.50 lb 90.20%
No. 3 invert sugar 1.25 lb 9.80%
Cluster 135 mins 0.50 oz
Fuggles 60 mins 1.25 oz
Fuggles 30 mins 1.25 oz
Fuggles dry hops 0.50 oz
OG 1059
FG 1018
ABV 5.42
Apparent attenuation 69.49%
IBU 36
SRM 11
Mash at 154º F
Sparge at 168º F
Boil time 135 minutes
pitching temp 60º F
Yeast Wyeast 1318 London ale III (Boddingtons)

Tuesday, 15 March 2022

Sao Paolo here I come (again)

I have to get up earlier than usual: 7:00. My flight is at 9:55. Wouldn't want to mis it.

A 15 bus pulls away just as I get to the end of the street. That's a bit annoying. Still, I've plenty of time. I'm luckier with the 397. One pulls up a minute or two after I get to Haarlemmermeer station.


The airport is a bit more crowded than my last visit. Still well short of normal times. Itdoesn't take long before I'm at passport control. I hand them my verblijsvergunning as well as my passport. To avoid this exchange:

"How long have you been in the Netherlands?"

"I live here."

"Can I see your verblijsvergunning?"

No point wasting any time. I won't be going through this crap much longer, now that I'm Dutch. Once I get my Dutch passport, I'll be able to sail through.

Great news in the duty free. There's an offer on Laphroiag Four Oak. Just 50 euros. I'll be having one of those.


I've not much time in the lounge so I try to make the most of it. I get a sort of mini breakfast- a couple of sausages, scrambled egg and mushrooms. A few whiskies, too. It's much more crowded here. But nothing too crazy.

It's not far to my gate. I get there at the perfect time - at the tail end of priority boarding.

This time the person in front of me doesn't recline their seat before the seat belt sign goes off. They wait until 2 minutes afterwards. Brilliant. Luckily the seat to my left is vacant and I can use that space for my laptop.

Dolores loaded up all nine series of Peep Show to my laptop. I start with series 1, episode 1. I'd forgotten that Johnson turns up so early. Not that I'm complaining. He's a great character.

After watching all six episodes of season 1, I switch to the inflight entertainment for a while I watch Venom 3, despite it being pretty crap. And so dark it's hard to make out some of the action. Back to Peep Show.

There's a two or three-month old baby on the row behind. Not that you'd notice. It spends pretty much all the flight asleep on one or other of the parents.

No Time to Die is the next film. (A surprising title, given the film’s ending.) It's long, which is good. I keep dozing off in the middle section. Don't think I missed much as I can still follow the plot.

The last 90 minutes of the flight I watch one of the comedy series on the inflight entertainment: Nobodies. It passes the time. In a challenge to the traditional sitcom dogma, it does completely away with jokes.

This time they do want to see all my Covid documentation at the border. Not that they look at it that closely.

When I'm just about to walk through customs, a bloke in his forties asks me how I'm getting into town. I think he recognised that I was on the same flight by my Schiphol duty free bag.

"Are you getting the train?" he asks.

"No, I'm getting a taxi. I can't be arsed with the train."

"Could we share the taxi?"

"Of course."

Great. This is going to save me some dosh.

It turns out he's on his way to Blumenau, too. To visit relatives. He's German, by the way.

Getting money from the cash machine turns out to be problematic. Until I use my visa card. That's a relief, having some Brazilian dosh in my pocket.

The taxis from Sao Paolo airport are pretty good. They're run by a cooperative of drivers, which has a monopoly. There are set fares to various locations in the city. My new German friend will be dropped of first, for the set fare. Then the driver will continue on the meter to drop me off.

A couple of minutes outside the airport, it starts pissing it down. Really pissing it down. Full-on tropical downpour. Soon the roads are transformed into rivers. It's all a bit scary. Doesn't seem to faze the driver. I guess he's seen it all before.

I feel sorry for the German when he reaches his destination. There's a good 10 cm of water he has to wade through.

 

As we get closer to my hotel, there are lots of little corner bars. Mostly pretty full and noisy, sometimes with music, sometimes just voices.

I'm lucky when I disembark. It's under cover and there's no standing water. It's still pissing it down.

That's why I eat in the hotel. In a deserted restaurant, save for the staff. I'm not getting drenched for no good reason.

A draught of Laphroaig hastens my dreams, the traditional Islay way.



Monday, 14 March 2022

Atlanta farewell

I'm up fairly early - before 8 AM. I've a few things to be getting on with. Like printing out my negative Covid test certificate. That has priority. I don't want to be refused boarding.

I go downstairs and ask at reception if they can print it for me. I'm directed to the Fed Ex office inside the hotel. There they have the possibility to print from a memory stick. For which I'm charged $1.62. Not that I'm complaining. That document could be priceless.

After carrying it carefully back upstairs, I have a think about breakfast. $20 an American breakfast costs. Do I really want one? I hum and haw for a while. Then say to myself, fuck it. My last day, after all. They're slightly more generous with the bacon, giving me three slices.


I notice that, as with the other places I had breakfast, a tip of 18% or 20% is added automatically. Then they leave space for another tip, the cheeky bastards. 20% is plenty, they can fuck off if they expect any more. If you're not careful the tip will come to more than the food.

I need to pack. But not before polishing off the remainder of my hotel whisky. I wouldn't want to let it go to waste. Or lug it back home.

Checking out at 11:00, I jump in a taxi. I'm going to be very early. My flight doesn't leave until 16:45. The checkin desks are deserted. I find myself a seat and watch some of that Beatles documentary. Part one mostly seems to consist of them bickering. In a very unproductive way.



At around 13:00, I notice some activity behind the desks and head on over. The staff are just setting up and I'm first in the queue. Lucky me. I show the agent my Covid test result. But a female colleague says that isn't needed any more. Instead, I'm handed a weird quarantine form to fill in. Did I just waste my time (and money) getting that Covid test?*

Once airside, I go straight to the lounge to fill myself with food and booze. What are lounges for, if not that? As I chomp and sip, I crack on with part two of that Beatles documentary. They seem to have stopped arguing and are actually starting to knock some songs into shape. About fucking time.


I time arriving at the gate perfectly again, just when my group is given the green light to board.

It's pretty empty again. I move to where I can have three seats to stretch out across. Which I do, after eating some of the not very appetising food and knocking back a few red wines. In the meantime, I work my way to the end of part three of the Beatles doc. Disappointingly short, is my opinion. Could have done with being an hour or two longer.

I manage to get 3 hours or so of fairly reasonable sleep. Then fire up the laptop and watch some comedy stuff until touchdown. It's not been too painful a flight. The Bourbon in the lounge helped.

Recognising my bag this time, I'm soon rolling into a taxi and onto the road home. I unlock my front door before 7:00. Everyone is still in bed.

 

* No, I didn't.

Sunday, 13 March 2022

London Porter 1880 - 1899

By modern UK standards, Porter was still quite a strong beer, clocking in between 5% and 6% ABV. That would no longer be true after WW I. The low gravity of versions produced in the 1920s might well have speeded the style’s demise.

As you can see in the table, the gravities of the examples from different breweries were of a very similar gravity, averaging out to exactly 1057º. Wildly differing degrees of attenuation, however, left a wide spread in the alcohol content, from under 4% ABV to just shy of 6% ABV.

The hopping rate was mostly 7 and a bit pounds per quarter (336 lbs) of malt. That’s slightly higher than for London Mild Ales, but not by a huge amount. There were a couple of outliers with higher hopping rates. In particular a couple of the earlier Truman examples.
 

London Porter 1880 - 1899
Year Brewer Beer OG FG ABV App. Atten-uation lbs hops/ qtr hops lb/brl
1887 Fullers Porter 1053.5 1019.7 4.47 63.21% 7.57 2.03
1893 Fullers Porter 1056.8 1027.7 3.85 51.22% 7.17 2.00
1897 Fullers Porter 1057.1 1016.3 5.39 71.36% 6.10 1.71
1880 Truman Runner 1056.8 1018.0 5.13 68.29% 12.8 3.84
1890 Truman Runner 1058.2       9.42 2.63
1895 Truman Runner 1059.0       7.52 2.06
1899 Truman Runner 1058.2       7.25 1.99
1880 Whitbread P 1056.5 1011.9 5.90 78.92% 7.44 2.19
1885 Whitbread P 1056.0 1012.7 5.72 77.23% 7.32 1.80
1890 Whitbread P 1057.1 1012.0 5.96 78.97% 9.74 2.07
1895 Whitbread P 1058.4 1016.0 5.62 72.62% 7.20 1.76
  Average   1057.0 1016.8 5.25 70.23% 8.14 2.19
Sources:
Fullers brewing records held at the brewery.
Truman brewing records held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document numbers B/THB/C/082, B/THB/C/092, B/THB/C/096 and B/THB/C/102.
Whitbread brewing records held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document numbers LMA/4453/D/09/075, LMA/4453/D/09/080, LMA/4453/D/09/084 and LMA/4453/D/09/090.

 

Saturday, 12 March 2022

Let's Brew - 1901 Boddington XX

Next up the Mild chain is XX Ale. Though, in terms of strength, it’s about equal to a London X Ale.

Don’t expect anything exciting to report about the recipe. Although Boddington mostly brewed their Mild Ales single-gyle, they may as well have been, given the similarities between them. All consisted of just base malt and sugar. The latter being described simply as “Garton”.

Even assuming that the sugar is No.3 invert, the colour is significantly paler than that of London Mild Ales. Which by this point were clocking in at over 15 SRM. Not really so surprising, if you remember, as I do, Boddington’s Mild from the 1980s. It was dark compared to their Bitter, but only what I would describe as semi-dark, that is, about 10-12 SRM. It’s also confirmation that the darkening of Mild was an uneven process, not occurring everywhere simultaneously.

Once again there are lots of different hops, four English and one Californian, age unknown.

1901 Boddington XX
pale malt 10.75 lb 93.48%
No. 3 invert sugar 0.75 lb 6.52%
Cluster 120 mins 0.50 oz
Fuggles 60 mins 1.00 oz
Fuggles 30 mins 1.00 oz
Fuggles dry hops 0.50 oz
OG 1051.5
FG 1014
ABV 4.96
Apparent attenuation 72.82%
IBU 32
SRM 8
Mash at 154º F
Sparge at 168º F
Boil time 120 minutes
pitching temp 60º F
Yeast Wyeast 1318 London ale III (Boddingtons)

Friday, 11 March 2022

Back in Atlanta

My flight isn't until 13:14. No rush to get up. I start pottering around at about 8:00.

After going through my emails and writing up yesterday's events I pack up my stuff. I check out in the shop a little before 10:00 and ask them to call me a taxi. Ten of fifteen minutes it’ supposed to be.

I stand outside in the sun and read Private Eye to pass the time. Sweating in the sun in a very English, low-key way. When no taxi has appeared after 30 minutes, I go back inside to see what's happening.

"They've probably been delayed. It's Monday and a lot of people are going home."

OK then. Not totally reassuring. Just as well I’ve left a shitload of time. That’s the way I roll now I’m an oldie person. Paranoid and assuming everything will take me longer than expected.

When almost an hour has passed, I ask:

“Can you get me an Uber? I'll give you $60.”

He rings the taxi company again. Evidently, they picked up someone else. Fucking brilliant. He orders me an Uber and he asks for 40 dollars. A small price to pay for not missing my flight. It comes in less than 5 minutes.

I'm at the airport 1.45 hours before my flight is due. Plenty of time. Though checkin takes a bit longer than I expected.

Not having eaten, I pick up a sandwich and a bottle of coke for the flight. Then go and sit at a bar.

"A double Jack Daniels, no ice, please."

I've around 20 minutes to kill before boarding. May as well kill off some brain cells at the same time.

I restrict myself to just the two. $44, before tip. Fuck me, airport bars are expensive. I could have bought two bottles of cheap bourbon for that.

The gate isn't far. Once again, I time it perfectly, rolling up just as priority boarding is ending. I stroll right on board.

This time, I watch a weird Danish film called Another Round (at least in English). It's about a group of teachers who use alcohol as a performance-enhancing drug. Inevitably, it all goes horribly wrong. Though I don't get to see the ending. It's almost 2 hours long and I'm only three-quarters of the way through when the flight lands.

For some reason, I don't recognise my bag and let it whirl past a couple of dozen times before I pluck it from the carousel. How often have I travelled with this bag? What is wrong with me?

A taxi quickly drops me at my hotel. I recognise this place. I've stayed here before. It has all the scary internal balconies.



I’m on the fourteenth floor. But I’m staring up at most of the surrounding buildings. It’s a typical high-rise American downtown.


Luggage dumped, I head the couple of blocks to Sol's Liquor to pick up some whiskey for the kids. The challenge is to find something not stocked by Ton Overmars. I buy two bottles of some weird-looking cheap stuff. Pretty certain they won't have that.

Back in the hotel, I wander to the rear to take a look at the cafeteria. A voice behind me says:

"Excuse me sir. Are you a guest?"

It's security. Do I look that dodgy? It must be my crazy old man wild hair. I show him my key card. He seems satisfied, though somewhat begrudgingly.

I buy a bag of salt and vinegar crisps in the cafeteria. $2.99. The thieving bastards. It's not even a big bag.

This is annoying. Every time I touch a metal object like a door handle, I get a static electric shock. Just enough to be irritating.


My original plan was to go to Max's Lagers for beer and food. But I'm feeling lazy. Knacked, really. Despite doing fuck all today other than wait around. Instead, I stroll down to Hsu's, just three blocks away. For dumplings, fried rice and a Sweetwater 420. The food is OK, especially when I beef it up with soy sauce and hot sauce.

Back in my room, I watch Match of the Day 2 while I'm waiting for the Covid test result to roll in. Which it does, well before 23:00. I try to check in online. It doesn't work. I upload my vaccine certificate and give it another try. Still no joy. I'll just have to make sure I get to the airport really early.


Around 23:30, I feel peckish. I wander downstairs hoping to get some crisps from a vending machine. Without much hope of getting anything substantial. But the cafeteria is still open. I get a pastrami sub. Almost $10 it costs me.

The sandwich isn't bad. It's just the cost that sticks in my throat. I follow it down with some sleeping whisky. My last full day is done.


Sol's Liquor
186 Courtland St NE,
Atlanta, GA 30303.
http://solsliquor.com/


Hsu's Gourmet
192 Peachtree Center Ave NE,
Atlanta, GA 30303.
https://www.hsus.com/





Thursday, 10 March 2022

Hops in Scotland 1880 - 1914

Huge quantities of foreign hops were imported into the UK in the three decades before WW I. The USA and Central Europe supplied the most, though hops from just about country that produced them were brought into the country. How they were used depended very much on their origin.

Top-quality hops like Saaz and Hallertau were highly valued and used in much the same way as the best Kent hops. That is in the form of late aroma additions and dry hops. While cheaper hops from the USA, whose flavour wasn’t greatly liked, were usually early bittering hop additions. The same was true of other less fashionable ones like Poperinge hops from Belgium.

Hops from the USA were given a variety of descriptions. Originally they were just called American, but later in the century, as the US hop growing centres began to move from the East to the West Coast, terms like Pacific, Oregon or California were used as well. Presumably to help differentiate between hops from the East and West.

On the eve of WW I, William Younger was using mostly Pacific hops, the rest coming from Kent. For example, in December 1913, of the total 11,970 lbs of hops they used, 9,110 lbs (slightly more than 75%) were Pacific.  Unusually, Drybrough were using all English hops in 1906, though by 1914 there were also some Californian and continental hops in their beers as well .


The above is an excerpt from the best book ever written on Scottish beer:


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


Wednesday, 9 March 2022

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1901 Boddington X

Unlike their London colleagues, Boddington was still brewing a full set of X Ales as the 20th century turned.

We’re kicking off with the weakest. Which was, logically enough, X Ale. You’ll note that it’s a good bit weaker than London X Ales, which were over 1050º. Though some brewers, such as Adnams, had even lower Mild gravities. A good illustration of the regional variations in strength before WW I.

I’ve spent a good bit of time pondering the type of sugar. It’s described as “Garton”. The name of a sugar manufacturer, who sold a lot of No. 3. But it could be No. 2. Very unlikely that it was No. 1. Even with No. 3, it doesn’t come in that dark.

The excitement in the base malt is its source. Or at least the barley from which it was made. 11 quarters of English, 10 quarters of Ouchac and 5 quarters Californian. The latter, presumably, six-row.

Hops were mostly sourced from England, with just one out of five types from California. No harvest year is given for any of the hops, unfortunately.

1901 Boddington X
pale malt 9.00 lb 92.31%
No. 3 invert sugar 0.75 lb 7.69%
Cluster 120 mins 0.50 oz
Fuggles 60 mins 0.75 oz
Fuggles 30 mins 0.75 oz
Fuggles dry hops 0.25 oz
OG 1045
FG 1010
ABV 4.63
Apparent attenuation 77.78%
IBU 29
SRM 8
Mash at 154º F
Sparge at 168º F
Boil time 120 minutes
pitching temp 60º F
Yeast Wyeast 1318 London ale III (Boddingtons)