Tuesday, 30 September 2014

Does Civilisation End and Begin at Derby?

He holds him with his glittering eye —
The Wedding-Guest stood still,
And listens like a three years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Derby is a great drinking town I'm told. I have been there a couple of times before, but it was quite a few years ago.  This time, fresh from the magnificent Victoria in Beeston, Nottingham, where we had a private behind the scenes tour - one of our party knows the owner - we checked into our hotel just across from the railway station and handy for a kebab house, an off licence and a knocking shop.  What more could a man want?  Well cask beer obviously.  Now my two previous visits to Derby had, I think, confined me to just two pubs.  Who am I to break what could almost be described as a tradition?  Thus it was we convened at an old friend, the Brunswick, a magnificent Brew Pub, fashioned out of a complete mini terrace of houses and with that classic ship's prow, or flat iron front, that I for one find irresistible. I was first there, which is my bounden duty as kitty holder.

Now I am not always the most observant guy in the world and having first of all scanned the pumps to see what was on offer, I scanned the room to get my bearings and check out customers for possible danger, good looking lasses etc.  Thus when the friendly barman asked what I wanted, I didn't spot that the beer was unsparkled, until my glass, brim-full and more or less headless, was presented to me. It was I recall, from Oakham.  My companions joined me and all chose a house beer, which was enjoyed to varying degrees.  I was asked "What's yours like?"  "Pretty good" I opined, "but it would be better sparkled."  At that, a fellow barfly piped up "You should have asked for it to be sparkled then Mate, we do both."  My baleful eye was cast over the piper up.  "I'm the landlord here." he added. Now he was up for conversation and I'm always up for a sparkler debate, so it all looked promising, but this was to turn out a much more wide ranging and knowledgeable discussion than I was expecting.

"Didn't you notice the pumps then?" I was asked.  The bar was "L" shaped.  I hadn't really, but a bank of six or so to my left at right angles had the classic short spout and on/off key .  "Not them" said my new friend. "The ones in front of you."  I tiptoed up.  Each pump had the classic short spout and in addition had the revered and welcoming swan neck and sparkler. Yep. Both.   "You know why don't you?"  I was asked.  Now in sparkler conversations, I like to think I lead from the front, but this was back foot stuff.  "Umm, choice?" I ventured.  " Yes. Obviously that" said my new mentor.  "But do you know why?"  Then he pulled his rabbit out of his hat.  "Because Derby is the dividing line between Northern and Southern dispense.  Below here it is all sparklerless, above, sparkled."  I thought about it and sort of doubted it. I had no backing from my elderly friends who had all long since sat down to discuss retirement pensions, new knees and what kind of jam they like.  Could he be right?  I remembered a map I had published in this very blog about this very subject, back in 2008.  It was possible, though then and before this, I would have put Derby in the sparkled camp.  My new friend had stats.  90% of beer in his pub and elsewhere in Derby is served Southern style.  I looked round.  It was more than that there.  I couldn't doubt him.

The landlord, like the Ancient Mariner of old, had stoppethed one of four (in this case), and I was in his thrall. The telling of his tale could not be denied him.  I was powerless.  He described how unrest had come to this tranquil part of Derby on many occasions, when thirsty travellers from Sheffield, a mere 30 minutes away by train, had descended on the Brunswick, ordered pints and then gently remarked in that laid back South Yorkshire way, "Beer, beer everywhere, nor any drop to drink".  (Expressed more succinctly as "What the fuck have you done to this beer?"  After many such enquiries, the landlord had asked his handpump supplier (CFBS I think) for a solution.  It was as I already described and the second bank of pumps would be converted in due course.  The Sheffielders were happy - well as long as they chose from the converted pumps they were.

My friends were keen to move on, but I could not be denied another ten minutes discussing pulling technique - beer - not women - before I was reluctantly dragged away.  We moved on to the Alexandra, about 50 yards away and my only other visited Derby pub.  A Tynemill House, it had a great beer selection, a friendly welcome,  haggis Scotch Eggs and unsparkled beer, but with a swan neck.   We stayed almost until closing time, but I had to go back to the Brunswick for the last pint, where my new friend, the landlord pulled me a (promised) perfect sparkled pint. So.  Is Derby where North and South divide sparkler wise? My previous line was more likely to have been Birmingham, drawn at an angle though and maybe excluding Coventry below the line and Leicester above. Maybe my readers can venture an opinion or two, preferably town by town and where the line might be drawn.

For now though, I accept Derby as sparkler free by and large, but not as the dividing line.  Does my map look about right?  It doesn't to me really if I'm honest.

It is nonetheless gratifying that the line appears to be heading southward and does anyone else think as I do, that a Scotch Egg is better with just a little heat going through it?  say 30 seconds in a microwave? I know. I'm asking two big questions here.

Monday, 29 September 2014

The Mean Back Streets of Cambridge

My annual trip away with the "boys" this year took place in Cambridge and Derby.  Both good drinking towns.  I took some advice from the Twitterati and of course, being only one person out of four that had a votes, it was ignored.  At least in part.

On the way there we enjoyed a couple of pubs in Newark. First of all the absolutely superb micropub, Just Beer, which was one roomed, friendly, had lovely local cheese and crackers and a great pint of Haf Gwyn from Cwrw lal in Clwyd, which had just the right amount of hops to quench a thirst brought on by two hours motoring south.  Then a couple more in an old favourite, the Tynemill (Castle Rock) owned Fox and Crown where Castle Rock Harvest Pale was impossible to ignore. Old favourites are sometimes just the ticket.

In Cambridge we stayed a twenty minute walk from the centre, so decided just to stick local.  First surprise. Just off the main Newmarket Road is street upon street of back to back terraced houses, just like we have up North, only in pale local brick, not the deep red we are used to.  Most we think were filled, with students - as you might imagine in this university town.  What also was appealing was that many of these rather long terraces had corner pubs.  I do love a street corner pub. We chose a couple and were very pleasantly surprised, firstly by the very appealing Geldart, with two busy bars and decent beer and then by the Kingston Arms where we ate and enjoyed the bustling atmosphere and oddly, beers times two, from different Salford breweries. No doubt specially chosen to make us feel at home. Both pubs, on a Wednesday night were heaving.

We finished off at the Live and Let Live on Mawson Road which was perhaps a bit less up market than the other two - OK a bit more tatty - but with beer from Oakham - a common brew in Cambridge - served in tip top condition and a landlord, who once we praised the quality of his beer, warmed to us immensely and was chatty and welcoming.  Thus we had little to cause to leave.

So we didn't, until we were chucked out at eleven.  Three good pubs in one evening were quite enough for such old men as us.

We did see many of the recommended City Centre pubs the next day, but we didn't stay long enough to see them open, but on the whole, we didn't feel we'd missed out.

Tuesday, 23 September 2014

Sexist T Shirt Update

I mentioned here that I'd asked that we check that there would be no sexist T shirts on sale at Manchester Beer and Cider Festival. The Organiser has confirmed with our T Shirt man that there won't be any, and as I understand it, that he'll be happy to be subject to audit to ensure there isn't. Good man. From memory his is a pretty big stall, but it seems unlikely after all (though we initially thought he was) that he is the same person that sells T shirts at GBBF. Someone else will need to take that one up I think.

Still, I'm pleased . I hope my readers are too. It shows it can be done. Small steps and all that.

Manchester Beer and Cider Festival, Manchester Velodrome, 21st/24th January 2015. No sexists T Shirts on sale, but lots of beer.

Monday, 22 September 2014

Vladimir's Cure

Before I went to Russia, my fellow blogger the Beer Nut wrote somewhere - was it twitter? - I can't find it anyway, something to the effect of "Just wait to you see a country totally ruled by strong drink".  So when I went, I thought I'd find the place littered with scary drunks, pubs full of gangsters and an attitude to drink that would make Glasgow seem like a temperance hall.  Instead I found a very civilised place - OK it was posh Moscow and St Petersburg - and no sign of drunkeness at all.  The bars and pubs were filled with lovely, well dressed people sipping wine and having a very nice time in a quiet way. The only potential drunk I came across was me.

OK.  It was so expensive that you couldn't afford to get drunk, so worryingly these anti alcohol Johnnies have a case study that they could possibly use.  But that was in bars.  Drinking from the offie was cheap. Not as cheap as good old GB, but still reasonably cheap.  So maybe they just get pissed at home?

In one bar, a short measure half litre of Young's Double Chocolate Stout and a half of Harp (in a McEwan's glass) was over a tenner.  Why did I choose Young's?  It was on offer. Why didn't I drink Russian beer?  They didn't sell any - a feature of many Moscow bars.

More of Russia soon,  but building works at home make internet access and somewhere to sit and do it, tricky at the moment.

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

Going in for the Kil.


The kilderkin (from the Dutch for "small cask") is equal to half a barrel or two firkins.

Beer kilderkin

Until the adoption of the imperial system the beer kilderkin was defined as 18 ale or beer gallons.

Imperial kilderkin

With the adoption of the imperial system the kilderkin was redefined to be 18 imperial gallons, which is exactly 81.82962 litres or approximately 2.890 cubic feet.

On Saturday last week, we had an organising meeting for the Manchester Beer and Cider Festival. (Get it in your diaries Folks - Bigger and better than last year's sell-out, 50% of beers on main floor, 50% on concourse to avoid the stairs - and back at the magnificent Velodrome - advert ends.) One discussion was how to liven up the beer selection to get many more up and coming breweries in and to provide as wide a selection as possible.

I won't bore you with all the details of the discussion, but the Beer Orderer (a thankless task if ever there was one) pointed out that we had just discussed how tight space was at the bars and that we need where possible, in as many cases as we can, to get beer in eighteens. A major stumbling block is that very few small, up and coming, cutting edge breweries supply beer in eighteens (kilderkins) thus limiting our ability to order them, as we really need to maximise the utilisation of available space. Now this isn't the end of the matter, but I know this is a common problem with beer festivals. It might therefore be an idea for some breweries that find themselves excluded from certain festivals, would do well to point out that they can supply in kils. It would also be a good idea, where funds permit, to buy a few.

I also suggested that we should try and ensure that no sexist T Shirts are being sold at our event. We use the same guy as GBBF and while we can't be sure what the situation will be, enquiries will be made.  I'll keep you informed as to how that goes.

Just a small quote from our website:  "Once again we’ll be featuring some of the very best cask conditioned craft beers available selected from the very best brewers from around the country. From traditional bitters to hop front IPAs, through to the most cutting edge sours & saisons"  

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

"Old" Ales

Apologies for my recent silence. A trip to Russia and the fact my house is being torn to bits by builders, has precluded me from writing.  Oh and my shoulder is still sore, thanks for asking.

The removal of a wall cabinet in what used to be my kitchen (I think) turned up these beauties.  I rather thought (OK I know) I had a bottle of Bass No1 in there too, but before I accuse the building lads of supping or breaking it, I'd need to check through a million things that have been put elsewhere. One doesn't half tend to accumulate junk over the years though. This morning I've "enjoyed" reading through old love letters from my first real girlfriend - nothing mucky at all really - to my immense disappointment and loads of stuff about the National Insurance Act of 1975, which was a big thing in er, 1975 when I worked in, wait for it, National Insurance.  I had lovely handwriting too in those days.

Anyway, a picture tells a thousand words, so without real comment, here it is.  We have a photo of some old ales which are both old and strong and some which are old and aren't old or strong, but are indeed strong and old. All are in nips.

What's in a beer name?

You can see the skip in the background.  Also have rediscovered many other bottles and glasses. Might show them soon too. Saves thinking anything up.