Real Beer

Countdown to darkness. The frivolity is coming to an end as I move the Opening Sentence to ever gloomier subject matter. But there are still a few waifs and strays to publish before we hit the long dark night. Today, I talk about beer. Peculiar beer.

Around the world, at any one moment in time, people are drinking beer. Most of it is horrible. American beer is basically chilled water that’s had a loaf of bread waved over it to add taste. The beer in continental Europe is better, but still tends towards a gaseous fizzy pop.

No. Real beer can only be found in one part of the world. Britain. And in Britain, the best beers are not made by multinational corporations producing billions of gallons of tasteless froth, but in the sheds and microbreweries of forgotten corners of the country by men with beards and a terrible attraction to puns.

As I write this I’m sitting in a pub drinking a pint of Tunnel Vision. In the past I’ve drunk Hobgoblin, Waggle Dance, Pendle Witch and Old Speckled Hen.

One afternoon walking in Great Langdale I challenged myself to come up with beer names for my own brewery of the imagination. Old Crone and Needs Must would have been my two premium brands.

Not all of it, I have to say, is nectar to the tongue. At the Drunken Duck in Cumbria I had a pint of K9 brewed on site, that was so appallingly bad it actually made the day memorable. But K9 was the exception that proved the rule. Independent breweries produce the best beer in the world.

In an age of consolidation, smaller breweries grow before being gobbled up by the major chains. But in my neck of the woods you can still find small businesses like the Bowland Brewery, Hawkshead and Jennings. And a browse of the shelves in Booths supermarkets will provide an array of beers, some brewed in Scotland in Spanish sherry barrels, and old porters brewed in Kent sold in Victorian-style flattened bottles.

The usual criticism thrown at British beer is that it’s warm. Well, so is tea and coffee. Temperature is part of the culture. You wouldn’t expect whisky to be served in pints; the measure is part of the experience. With beer temperature is essential. It isn’t drunk to quench a thirst, real beer is an experience. One is a connoisseur when one appreciates the skill of the master brewer.

You might think anyone can do it: brew beer. But anyone who has ever bought a home brew kit and spent months to produce a plastic barrel full of flat liquid that tasted like weak tea will tell you it takes skill.

We tried it years ago. After hearing tales of people being driven insane drinking their own terrible concoctions, we gave it a try. We ignored the story of a man who took off the front door of his house and put it back on the wrong way round so that it opened out into the street. Accounts of home brew insanity were no deterent.

After two weeks I lifted the lid off the barrel and had a sniff. The fumes almost took the top of my head off. But eventually it was ready, bottled and poured. To call it a disappointment was an understatement. It tasted like old urine and would have contravened the trades description act had we tried to sell it. We didn’t brew any more. We didn’t have the knack.

The people who brewed K9 at the Drunken Duck weren’t much better, but Jennings Cocker Hoop is amazing. Sat outside the pub near Grasmere, gazing at the surrounding fells with a pint and a packet of cheese and onion crisps is better than any gourmet meal.

It’s beer, real beer. Real life. I’ve just thought of another name. Curmudgeon: a dark bitter with a crusty edge and strong aftertaste. Best drunk when it’s pouring with rain.

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12 thoughts on “Real Beer

  1. Excellent. When you come over to van sit for me you can bring a case of speciality ales. I agree with you wholeheartedly. There is much more to drinking beer than drinking beer. It has its own traditions and culture, and the revival of real ale in the 1980s and the advent of microbreweries has saved England from sinking deeper into the mire of uniformity. And yes, I have a beard. I also own six Steeleye Span LPs though I haven’t played them for years.
    On the front door thing. There is a pub in Berlin (traditional German beer and food) which has a normal front door except it opens into the street. Luckily for us, we followed someone else through it so we didn’t get caught out. But we sat inside for ages and saw several people attempt to open the door from the outside and give up, thinking the door was locked. The people inside, including the landlord, treated the spectacle as entertainment.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. And they say the Germans have no sense of humour.

      I applied for a job at the Bowland Brewery last year, but the job advert was out of date. I think my beard would have complemented the workplace nicely. I don’t have any Steeleye Span LPs, but I remember All Around My Hat. I’ll have to have a listen again on Youtube. (With a pint of Sneck Lifter…)

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Old Speckled Hen’s a good damn beer.

    The microbrewery revolution has been a blessing and a curse around the world. On one hand, American beers are getting better–on the other, we’ve got a lot of shitty AND expensive beers that taste like things like green peppers and banana bread and other things beer really shouldn’t taste like. Bluh.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. In Britain I haven’t come across brewers fiddling about with ingredients, but if the shenanagans going on in the cheese industry is anything to go by it’s only a matter of time. Sooner or later some nutcase is going to add chillis to the mix. They always add chillis. (Chocolate, ice cream…)


  3. Hmm. I’m not a big fan of beer, despite all the microbreweries that have sprung up in my part of the world. But Curmudgeon sounds like something I would develop a taste for. Hopefully, it would be a fitting accompaniment to Salt & Pepper Potato Chips (crisps) — one of my genial vices.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Interesting to hear microbreweries are springing up all over the world. Individuals can pay so much more attention to the subtleties of brewing than a big company.

      Perhaps my range of beers should be developed to accompany certain flavours of crisps. (Best drunk with smokey bacon etc…)

      Liked by 1 person

      1. The radio station I listen to has occasional appearances by beer reviewers (which I why I know what’s going on in that scene). That idea of crisp flavours and beer pairings (see, I know that’s the word to use) — brilliant!

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Somehow the statement “it tasted like old urine” brought a snicker to my lips. I can’t say I’m a beer connoisseur, but some of my friends have described their beer preferences in almost the same manner when telling about their experiences with independent breweries. I’m just wondering what the big fascination is with drinking a liquid fit for consumption out of an old boot. Maybe it’s just me, but doesn’t that sort of defeat the purpose of having an enjoyable meal at the expense of an interesting brew? Just thinking out loud–like I said, I’m not very good when it comes to beers!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Some beers should be quarantined over health and safety laws, but then people have described some wines as being no better than vinegar, so there are bad batches in everything.

      I think beer is too heavy to drink with a meal, certainly when it’s served in pints. Beer, for me, is best drunk when one is contemplating the universe!

      Liked by 1 person

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