Festive beery book delights

This is for anyone out there who, like me, is still struggling with ideas for Christmas presents – or if you just want to spend your tokens on something sensible on Boxing Day.

Hops & Glory, One man’s Search for the Beer That Built the British Empire
By Pete Brown
Published by Macmillan

There is a taxi driver somewhere in Birmingham who knows a whole lot more about IPA (India Pale Ale) than he did last Christmas.

That’s because I happened to spend two hours in his black cab returning to Cheshire one dark and stormy night. I had attended the launch of Hops and Glory in the glorious Coopers Tavern in Burton on Trent.

This book documents the story of IPA in the 1800s - and there seemed to be an echo of the sub-continent in the monsoon-like rains that hammered the Midlands and jiggered up my train journey that night. Reaching Brum too late for my connection- it was the rain not the beer (ok maybe a bit of both) - the kindly rail people whistled up the cabbie.

Anyway, brimming with IPA and enthusiasm after the launch, the journey gave me plenty of time to bore the poor young Asian driver with the beer's fascinating story until, somewhere in Shropshire, I fell asleep and left him alone with his Satnav. He thought Whitchurch was near Wolverhampton.

But boring is the last thing that you can accuse Pete Brown of being in this book that has just earned him the title of Beer Writer of the Year 2009 from no less than the British Guild of Beer Writers.

For the former advertising executive it is his third beer book – and the most ambitious to date. Over a pint with a mate, Pete decided to undertake the journey that the legendary beer used to make from Burton - the home of British brewing - to the Indian sub-continent in the 19th century. And to do it with a barrel of IPA, named Barry, just to see how the beer survived.

The sort of reckless adventure that many of us speculate on after a pint or two, this was no small undertaking. Ships just don’t make that pre-Suez Canal route round the Cape of Good Hope any more. The intrepid Pete made it happen, with a little help from brewers, specialist travel companies and assorted beer writers and, of course, his long suffering wife Liz.

The result is a hugely humourously entertaining tale that relates IPA's pivotal role in beer history and the Empire - and Pete's adventures along the way. IPA was brewed especially for the colonies in response for a call for lighter beers than stouts and porters to tackle the torrid heat. It had to be brewed strong in alcohol and heavily hopped to survive the 12,000 mile journey.But it was still a lot less potent than the indigenous Arak that probably made you blind, if it didn’t kill you first.

It appears that the servants of the British Empire and the dodgy 'honourable East India Company' sort of invented the binge drinking culture – what they put away as they ruled much of the world would make your average Friday night clubber look like the biggest wimp in town.

On his journey Pete sailed the Atlantic in a three mast tall ship, faced the perils of Brazilian prostitutes, Somali pirates and Iranian customs officials.

He survived it all to bring us this terrific beer and travel romp with pace, passion and Pete's acute sense of the ridiculous. It should be enjoyed with a bottle of Worthington White Shield or Thornbridge Jaipur. I wonder, though, if my friend the cabbie will be buying it.

For other beery books consider: A Beer a Day: 366 beers to help you through the year from Jeff Evans. Although published in 2008 by Camra (Campaign for Real Ale) I only recently read and enjoyed Jeff’s ale romp through the ages that links history with beer for everyday of the year.

World’s Best Beers: 1000 Unmissable Beers from Portland to Prague By Ben McFarland, published by Jacqui Small. This gives clear but highly humourous descriptions of the world’s beers, how to pour them and what to eat with them. Ok, it maybe sounds a bit geeky but it is very well presented and worth it for Ben’s quirky writing alone, which offers a whole new world of beery metaphor.

Happy festive reading.

A weird story tale of ale pundits, penguins and, er, vanilla bean white chocolate? Or, just what IS the point of a 32% beer?

I don’t normally give bottled ales any space here, for the very good reason that this beer page is about cask ales. But this is a short insight into the goings on in the more rarefied beer punditry stratosphere.

There is something calling itself Tactical Nuclear Penguin – at 32% strength? Yes, that’s 32 not 3.2%abv - If you drank a pint you wouldn’t be able to ask for another that’s for sure. It's a beer that has caused a bit of a spat recently.

This stuff has been brewed by the publicity hungry Brew Dog micro up in the wilds of Fraserburgh, Aberdeenshire. Up there, until relatively recently, decent ale was almost as rare as aerodynamic porcine.

Anyway this ale has been proclaimed as ‘the strongest beer on the planet’. It is to be sold only in the bottle. An Imperial Stout style ale that has been matured for 18 months in whisky casks, it was condemned last week by no less than the venerable Roger Protz, editor of the Good Beer Guide and the most eminent British beer writer.

Roger proclaimed TNP an impostor because, he stated, beer simply can’t be brewed at that strength with ale yeast. He suggested that it had been given help from, say, champagne yeast. But Rog sparked a right old ding dong on his blog (see www.beer-pages.co.uk). The largely anonymous correspondents poured boiling vitriol on his bemused head for the challenge. They said that it was indeed beer because the brew was frozen to increase the alcohol volume.

You see this is what goes on out there in the beerosphere. But let’s not get technical and just accept that it is a super strong ale. The two young (still in their twenties) and radical (but talented) Brew Dog lads say this is to be ‘savoured’ in small doses - at a whopping £35 a bottle they may be spot on there. They go on to say it ‘pairs well with vanilla bean white chocolate’ – no, not deep fried Mars bars. The question is: what is the point of it?

The pair have brewed several strong ‘progressive ales’-the previous one was Tokyo at 18.2% abv - simply to annoy the alcohol watchdog, the Portman Group - as they follow the fashion in the States for ‘extreme’ brewing. Apparently it plays well in Japan. This apparent obsession with all things strong is what disturbs me a bit. In a world of largely hostile media it doesn't help the cause. But it appears that Brew Dog and their band of supporters to take the view that this is the way forward for British brewing.

Well I don't think we need worry too much about that or for that matter their outrageously sweeping claim that British beer has ‘got a bad reputation’. They don't say with whom exactly, but presumably among their more nerdy followers. I think the 600 or so breweries in brewers' society SIBA(the guys are not members) are proof of the contrary. Think Roosters, Acorn, Anglo Dutch, Dark Star or Hawkshead to name a few that are brewing terrific cask beers at reasonable strengths.

You need only walk into a B&P pub any day of the year to know this statement to be arrogant rubbish. British craft ale is unique and holds its head high among the greatest beers in the world - without drinking like a saki. And my message to the Brew Dog drinkers of this world is that by far the best place to enjoy it is down the great British pub - not sat at home having a sort of nerdy introverted ‘with chocolate’ experience. But perhaps the Brew Dog lads can't get out much in Fraserburgh.

I do know what the ever-so-polite boys down the local would say if I suggested drinking this way. It would go something like: ‘Steve, your intriguing beer views are just a little out of kilter with wider opinion as expressed by the general drinking public’ – or ‘what a load of old cobblers’. What do you think? Cheers.

In praise of Harkers' 20 years - unashamedly

Report from a splendid birthday bash

Last night I had a pint of Boddingtons Bitter. The first Bod's for some years, now brewed by Hydes for Inbev, it tasted fine. But I doubt it will ever again be my pint of choice as it was in 1989.

Who can remember what happened, let alone what they were drinking, on any specific day two decades ago? Well, I don’t recall exactly what I was doing the day that the Old Harkers Arms doors were flung open for the first time in Russell Street, Chester.

I do know that - in a neglected area of the city at the time - from my office window just across the road it was an inspiring sight. I promptly did the 30 second dash for a lunchtime pint.

Surrounded by a beer landscape of Greenall's pubs in those days, it was when I had my Ice Cold in Alex moment.In the classic war film the legendary John Mills and his team hit the bar in Alexandria after days fleeing the Nazis through the torrid North African sand. They stare, stunned, at the beer 'so cold there's dew on the outside of the glass'. OK that was lager, but you get my drift. Gazing at an array of hand pulls that splendid day in Harkers was, well, quite similar really.

Anyway, last night I was back for another Bods and a walk down memory lane in Harkers as the first Brunning & Price pub in the north celebrated its 20th. Typical of the B&P style it was just a few laid back beers, no media (except me) no big fuss - just a little well-justified pride modestly expressed by co-founder Jerry Brunning.

The Boddies served to emphasise the affectionate nostalgia of the birthday bash. Chatting with launch landlord Francis (Fran) Hill we recalled the wild times in the early days when expense accounts lunches could be properly enjoyed before the lunch time no-booze gestapo became rampant. Fran now lives 'quietly' in head office where he is still sorting out new pubs

For me the return of Boddingtons also highlighed the huge changes in the beer-scape in recent years. The Cream of Manchester was once the most popular beer, but after changing its recipe and upping its strength it has long ago been usurped by craft beer brands – not least the much celebrated Weetwood Cheshire Cat - for the faithful band of bar stalwarts that haven't moved much over the years.

Thirsty Stalwarts
First brewed just down the road near Tarporley in 1993, it is downed by bucketful, with two or three 18 gallon barrels always ready to go and the bar stalwarts always ready to receive it.

At the birthday bash one of the regulars also in at the start - big Dave - had better recall than I as to the beers on the bar in 1989. He listed Timmie Taylor’s, Thwaites and Oak (now Phoenix) as among the regular brews. Nothing to complain about there in Greenall land. But last night you could sample delights from exciting brewers such as Anglo-Dutch and Purity – unknowns until recent years – as well as Weetwood and B&P’s own ‘Original’, smashing session ale from Phoenix. Now scores of guest ales go through the pumps every year under the watchful eye of ebullient boss Paul Jeffery and youthful beer buyer Dave.

With all this doom and gloom about pubs closing at the rate of some 40 a week we may think this a rather remarkable survival tale, 'tho' it will no doubt go very un-remarked in the mainstream media. So I make no apology for this unashamed praise.

Yes, since Fran first opened the doors, ale has played a big part in Harkers' success. But it is not the whole story. Many pubs in these difficult times may do well to take a close look at the reasons for success.

Some years after the Warrington based brewing dynasty abandoned ale, there is much greater diversity of both pubs and beers in the city. Despite the industry problems, competition grows each year. Nevertheless, the canal side ‘local’, well off the main drag, remains a top destination venue. It has no music, no gaming machines or karaoke nonsense - on a quiet day all you hear is the usual suspects at the bar singing the beer's praises.The pub that was once a warehouse has set the bar for good atmosphere, conviviality, great food and hospitality to attract customers of all types and ages every day of the week. The other day it was even given an airing on Radio 2. And all this without spending a penny on advertising down the years.

I travel around quite a bit visiting breweries and pubs these days. By the nature of the task, I use the train a lot to travel south. And when I return from my ramblings in the flat ale sands of London I almost always take a weary stroll up City Road to relive, just a little, that 'Ice Cold' moment.

To a northern beer writer you see, slipping down that first creamy pint is the cask ale equivalent to sliding into a warm, scented bath - followed a brisk rub down from two geisha girls.That's cask beer for you.

Let's hold that image and raise a glass to Harkers and its next twenty years. I wonder what we will be drinking there then Dave?