Beer of mixed quality has been the order of the day, this weekend.
Things were looking up at the Bricklayers in Hitchin - on Friday three of us went for a post-work drink (due to lack of available parking in the Nightingale). A pint of Waggledance, a pint of Colchester London Porter and a pint of Quantock Sunraker. All in great condition, all tasted lovely. At last, we thought, The Bricklayers has got its act together. But no, the next beer (a Nottingham one) was served murky. Probably not ready, rather than off, but it was disappointing.
We revisited on Sunday and noticed several of the beers were still on pump...so tried one of the "house" beers (it's a B&T house) - Dragonslayer. A pint was duly poured and put on the bar. It was barely translucent. It wasn't until S said "Is that the Dragonslayer..." and I turned to look at it that the lady behind the bar said. "Oh, perhaps its not ready".
The Sunday visit compounded our beery disappointment. We'd done some heavy duty chores at home and so had decided the best thing to so was find a late Sunday lunch at the Hermitage Rd. We like that they (usually) serve a decent pint of Brancaster beer there and we've always been happy with the food. The Brancaster arrived at our table, tired, murky and a bit unpleasant-smelling. We each took a sip and pulled faces. I took the beer back to the bar where the guy apologised and replaced it (for Adnams, which was the only other thing they had) - but it was clear he had no real idea what the beer he was serving should look, smell or taste like. The beer was still on when we left.
As we'd met up with folk in the Bricklayers whom we hadn't seen for some time we then moved onto the Half Moon. We noted, here, that beers were being turned around so quickly that each time we'd visited over the weekend, the beer selection was different.
We'd already had an awful lot to drink by the time our friends had left but a new beer had gone on (XT Gold), we were a bit peckish again...so it seemed rude not to stay for a last one and a snack.
Meanwhile, I cornered the landlord and asked him about the throughput of beer. He said that at the weekend all beers turn around in about 24hrs, with some going in a just a few hours if they were strong or unusual. He added that even in the week, he's a bit disappointed if he can't turn a 9 around in 48 hours. That is some going. Nice work, Howard.
Finally through our increasing inebriation, we tried to work out when was the last time we'd had to take a pint back in Bristol. The answer was "a long time ago". Maybe we choose our drinking establishments wisely - maybe we're spoiled for choice - but it is a lovely place for an avid beer drinker to stay.
We're hoping to be able to spend a bit more time there before too long.
Monday, 22 September 2014
Friday, 19 September 2014
Friday Beerday
Well, in truth, any day can be a beer day...
Yesterday I arrived in Hitchin about 5.30pm and had to pick up a parcel from Waitrose but that left us good time to have a swift one in the Nightingale before going there.
They had on a seasonal Wychwood beer, a Caledonion red beer and AK Pale - I stuck with the AK Pale which is consistently fine and S tried the Caledonion red one. Neither of us felt moved to have more so we hiked and picked up the parcel before coming home for dinner and glass or two of red all the time whilst I tried to work out how the new camera (for that was what was in the parcel) worked.
This morning more camera settings have been tweaked and I think we're getting closer to how I like things set up and I'm going to stroll out later, camera in hand to put it through its paces. Then I'll meet S at work and there's a fair chance more beer will be involved.
This weekend will likely be less stressful than last (although last weekend was fabulous fun) and it'll be fun to kick back a bit and maybe play some games whilst drinking.
Wherever, and whatever you're drinking, may your beer be lovely.
Yesterday I arrived in Hitchin about 5.30pm and had to pick up a parcel from Waitrose but that left us good time to have a swift one in the Nightingale before going there.
They had on a seasonal Wychwood beer, a Caledonion red beer and AK Pale - I stuck with the AK Pale which is consistently fine and S tried the Caledonion red one. Neither of us felt moved to have more so we hiked and picked up the parcel before coming home for dinner and glass or two of red all the time whilst I tried to work out how the new camera (for that was what was in the parcel) worked.
This morning more camera settings have been tweaked and I think we're getting closer to how I like things set up and I'm going to stroll out later, camera in hand to put it through its paces. Then I'll meet S at work and there's a fair chance more beer will be involved.
This weekend will likely be less stressful than last (although last weekend was fabulous fun) and it'll be fun to kick back a bit and maybe play some games whilst drinking.
Wherever, and whatever you're drinking, may your beer be lovely.
Wednesday, 10 September 2014
Life beyond beer...
In the early hours of this morning I was musing on this blog, and I wondered whether it made me look like someone who has no interests outside beer.
I'll freely admit I drink a lot of it, and I drink it frequently (although I've not drunk any at all since Sunday). More importantly, I drink it because I love the taste, and it's an interesting time to be drinking beer in the UK.
It isn't all I do, though, and although many of my conversations and excursions with my favourite beer-drinking buddy have a beerish theme (after all, we'd never walk miles based upon going somewhere just with a good wine list, or a fancy chef) - that's not all we're interested in.
Here's a list of current interests, just to prove that I haven't got a one-track mind...
I'll freely admit I drink a lot of it, and I drink it frequently (although I've not drunk any at all since Sunday). More importantly, I drink it because I love the taste, and it's an interesting time to be drinking beer in the UK.
It isn't all I do, though, and although many of my conversations and excursions with my favourite beer-drinking buddy have a beerish theme (after all, we'd never walk miles based upon going somewhere just with a good wine list, or a fancy chef) - that's not all we're interested in.
Here's a list of current interests, just to prove that I haven't got a one-track mind...
- Tour of Britain and its visit to Eastbourne
- Electronics education for youngsters and encouraging them in 'making' activities
- Music: listening to, analysing and playing it (current obsession: I Wish I knew How it Would Feel to be Free...played on the piano..badly)
- Physics, Chemistry, Maths and Biology...in abstract, and in little bursts of specific interests
- A Martello Tower in Eastbourne and its future
- The hooting owl I can hear at night - I suspect it's a tawny and it's either in the Rec across the road or in the woods about 600m away...wherever it is, I love the sound.
- The consolidation of the contents of two houses into one (today I've been putting up shelves, and ridding myself of my huge desk to accommodate more stuff in what will be a shared office)
- A funding bid for a heritage project
- Heritage Open days - and Eastbourne first real crack at it (wish us luck)
- A few forthcoming events in our Martello and how we can please all the people, all of the time (I suspect this is not possible)
- Friends coming to stay - so I guess I'd better get the spare room ready
- Friends coming to stay - so I guess I'd better replace the bulb in the only light on the landing
- Football. More specifically BHAFC. Even more specifically a couple of away matches in Norwich and Wolverhampton we're plotting to attend
- Trying (and largely failing ) to get our garden from under the tyrannical yoke of climbers: jasmine, wisteria, grape vine, clematis, honeysuckle and, the devil's work itself - bindweed. Another binful today...and I know by the time the bin has been emptied next week, the bloody stuff will be coming at me again.
- Naiscent plans for an extension to this house so we can make better use of the space (and accommodate the things from the housal consolidation).
- Newly renewed love of reading books (currently Christopher Brookmyre's "Bedlam")
- Walking on the South Downs - almost on our doorstep and a bit of a slog up the hill, but so completely worth it when you get up there.
Tuesday, 9 September 2014
Try it before you knock it...
We've got a nasty habit of making eating a secondary consideration to where we want to drink beer. We both know it's not a good idea (for several reasons) and yet time after time...
Sometimes, we almost forget to eat, especially on days when we've traveled and have a lot to catch up on. Also, since we're quite fussy about what we drink with food we often lapse into drinking wine when what we really want is beer.
So, we were quite pleased with ourselves, having inveigled our way into a busy Turkish restaurant for the first time, to choose Turkish beer to drink with our food. They had Efes on draft (which neither of us had had before). We were pretty skeptical about it and the first mouthful made us nod knowingly...you know the way Real Ale drinkers do when drinking foreign lagerish beers.
Then the waiter brought us some hummous and bread. What a revelation - they all worked really well together.
Don't get me wrong - it's not a beer we'll drink often but sometimes you have to give it try, don't you.
Sometimes, we almost forget to eat, especially on days when we've traveled and have a lot to catch up on. Also, since we're quite fussy about what we drink with food we often lapse into drinking wine when what we really want is beer.
So, we were quite pleased with ourselves, having inveigled our way into a busy Turkish restaurant for the first time, to choose Turkish beer to drink with our food. They had Efes on draft (which neither of us had had before). We were pretty skeptical about it and the first mouthful made us nod knowingly...you know the way Real Ale drinkers do when drinking foreign lagerish beers.
Then the waiter brought us some hummous and bread. What a revelation - they all worked really well together.
Don't get me wrong - it's not a beer we'll drink often but sometimes you have to give it try, don't you.
Monday, 8 September 2014
Great North Pub
So, we were watching a bit of the Great North Run coverage today.
At one point, S says "Ah...just up from where she's running at the moment is where we crossed that dual-carriageway to walk up to the pub in Felling..."
Then I remembered, possibly the weirdest, most fabulous pub we went to during our stay in Newcastle (and Gateshead, she added carefully) a couple of years back.
Newcastle is awash with good pubs in the town centre but out in the 'burbs it gets a little bit harder to find really good beer. We'd spent the day in the city ambling around and taking in the sights (and beers) but I don't really remember much of the detail about that day until the time we decided to strike out and try find this outlying area of town called Felling, as it promised two pubs in the Guide. The first bit of the walk was pleasant enough, on the banks of the river and whilst not particularly picturesque per se, it was nice to have a bit of greenery around. But the more we walked the less the surroundings made us want to stroll. At one point we passed a trading estate where two ponies had been corralled by the authorities and were waiting for their owners to be found.
Eventually we found ourselves on the main road (the one the GNR competitors were running along) and we crossed and ascended into Felling. We passed a couple more scruffy-looking ponies tethered on a green (what is it with ponies in the area...we saw loads of 'em) and a handful of slightly run-down houses. Then we saw the Wheatsheaf.
It wouldn't be fair to say our hearts sank, but let's just remark that we didn't anticipate feeling particularly welcomed there. Nevertheless, having walked a couple of miles and this being the only Big Lamp brewery pub we would see, we took a deep breath and entered the pub.
It was the very definition of a "locals' pub" - we all know what that term means and it's never really meant as a compliment. We ordered a couple of pints, and the Landlord was friendly enough. It was the day of Margaret Thatcher's funeral, and let's just say that the pub was giving her their own special kind of send off. The CD player was playing a special compilation including "Tramp the Dirt Down" by Elvis Costello and "Shipbuilding" by Robert Wyatt...I think you get the idea.
Then we realised that almost all the beer had been renamed with their standard beer clip showing a picture of the late Baroness, with a single word underneath - "Bitter".
To be honest, we found all this pretty amusing.
At one point, a chap standing at the bar let out a brief torrent of Anglo-Saxon, then saw me (I think I might have been the only woman in the main bar at the time) and apologized. I smiled, indicated that his apology was unnecessary and he carried on.
After our first pint, it was my turn to buy so I asked S what he wanted. He scanned the pumps (three of them, I think) and said..."that one...Black something...". The landlord appeared and I said "a pint of Blackout, please" and the landlord raised an eyebrow, and sucked in air a little (like a builder who's just spotted a bit of dry rot in your joists). Then silence fell in the bar and everyone looked at me...
...I read the pump clip "ABV 11%", let out a "oh bloody hell..." and turned around to S and said "are you sure you want a pint?".
He gasped, and suggested a half might be enough...and there was a collective disappointed giggle from the other punters who tried to egg him on.
It seems to have been some sort of initiation, because we were definitely part of the "gang" after that.
The pub up the road was also in the guide and, as at home as we felt in the Wheatsheaf, we thought it was daft not to at least try the place, since we'd come so far. So, we said our goodbyes and headed out into the rainy night...we walked into The Fox, saw that it was empty and they only had one beer on and decided not to stay. So we had a choice - go and catch a Metro train back to our house or go back into the Wheatsheaf. We knew they'd laugh at us but what the hell. We walked back into the bar to a roar of approval, and stayed for a couple more pints in the warm fug of damp friendliness.
My recommendation is to try pubs like this. You won't always like them, and you won't always be made to feel welcome in locals' pubs but every now and again, you'll get an absolute corker of a place. My second recommendation for this particular pub is get the bloody train out there, rather than walking.
At one point, S says "Ah...just up from where she's running at the moment is where we crossed that dual-carriageway to walk up to the pub in Felling..."
Then I remembered, possibly the weirdest, most fabulous pub we went to during our stay in Newcastle (and Gateshead, she added carefully) a couple of years back.
Newcastle is awash with good pubs in the town centre but out in the 'burbs it gets a little bit harder to find really good beer. We'd spent the day in the city ambling around and taking in the sights (and beers) but I don't really remember much of the detail about that day until the time we decided to strike out and try find this outlying area of town called Felling, as it promised two pubs in the Guide. The first bit of the walk was pleasant enough, on the banks of the river and whilst not particularly picturesque per se, it was nice to have a bit of greenery around. But the more we walked the less the surroundings made us want to stroll. At one point we passed a trading estate where two ponies had been corralled by the authorities and were waiting for their owners to be found.
Eventually we found ourselves on the main road (the one the GNR competitors were running along) and we crossed and ascended into Felling. We passed a couple more scruffy-looking ponies tethered on a green (what is it with ponies in the area...we saw loads of 'em) and a handful of slightly run-down houses. Then we saw the Wheatsheaf.
It wouldn't be fair to say our hearts sank, but let's just remark that we didn't anticipate feeling particularly welcomed there. Nevertheless, having walked a couple of miles and this being the only Big Lamp brewery pub we would see, we took a deep breath and entered the pub.
It was the very definition of a "locals' pub" - we all know what that term means and it's never really meant as a compliment. We ordered a couple of pints, and the Landlord was friendly enough. It was the day of Margaret Thatcher's funeral, and let's just say that the pub was giving her their own special kind of send off. The CD player was playing a special compilation including "Tramp the Dirt Down" by Elvis Costello and "Shipbuilding" by Robert Wyatt...I think you get the idea.
Then we realised that almost all the beer had been renamed with their standard beer clip showing a picture of the late Baroness, with a single word underneath - "Bitter".
To be honest, we found all this pretty amusing.
At one point, a chap standing at the bar let out a brief torrent of Anglo-Saxon, then saw me (I think I might have been the only woman in the main bar at the time) and apologized. I smiled, indicated that his apology was unnecessary and he carried on.
After our first pint, it was my turn to buy so I asked S what he wanted. He scanned the pumps (three of them, I think) and said..."that one...Black something...". The landlord appeared and I said "a pint of Blackout, please" and the landlord raised an eyebrow, and sucked in air a little (like a builder who's just spotted a bit of dry rot in your joists). Then silence fell in the bar and everyone looked at me...
...I read the pump clip "ABV 11%", let out a "oh bloody hell..." and turned around to S and said "are you sure you want a pint?".
He gasped, and suggested a half might be enough...and there was a collective disappointed giggle from the other punters who tried to egg him on.
It seems to have been some sort of initiation, because we were definitely part of the "gang" after that.
The pub up the road was also in the guide and, as at home as we felt in the Wheatsheaf, we thought it was daft not to at least try the place, since we'd come so far. So, we said our goodbyes and headed out into the rainy night...we walked into The Fox, saw that it was empty and they only had one beer on and decided not to stay. So we had a choice - go and catch a Metro train back to our house or go back into the Wheatsheaf. We knew they'd laugh at us but what the hell. We walked back into the bar to a roar of approval, and stayed for a couple more pints in the warm fug of damp friendliness.
My recommendation is to try pubs like this. You won't always like them, and you won't always be made to feel welcome in locals' pubs but every now and again, you'll get an absolute corker of a place. My second recommendation for this particular pub is get the bloody train out there, rather than walking.
Friday, 5 September 2014
Trial and Error
I made the journey up to Hitchin yesterday, after schlepping around Eastbourne dropping off leaflets for our forthcoming "Heritage Open Days" event in Eastbourne, "Open Eastbourne".
Well, as an aside, we're quite excited about next weekend because the Tour of Britain is passing through, and we're doing "Open Eastbourne" (which we've been co-ordinating) and we've got some friends visiting for both events...and, possibly more importantly, for P (who is one of S's oldest friends) and S to revisit their beer-drinking youth. Yes, you knew it would come back to beer, didn't you?
As lads, S, P and M (with whom we drink regularly in Brighton before and after football) had a few regular haunts - the Eagle, the Dolphin, the Hurst Arms and the Victoria and I'm pretty sure that we'll need to visit several of these.
But S is particularly keen to take P to the Crown which is not somewhere they ever frequented because we're pretty sure P will be as smitten as us by good beer served straight from the cask.
Anyhow, enough of looking ahead...last night we, as ever, dropped into the Nightingale upon my arrival.
Since buying out the tie of the pub, the landlady and landlord have been able to vary the beer they buy a bit...and the price has dropped a little (that's right, you heard me...they didn't trouser the extra revenue, they passed at least some onto their customers).
Yesterday they had a dark beer by Wolf (the name of which I can't remember, and isn't on their standard cask list) which was decent enough - a bit like a better version of Tring's Colley's Dog. But they also had on Newby Wyke Banquo which is a lovely, lovely beer. Yes, it's golden and hoppy but it's well balanced and very drinkable.
So it was that we decided to stay for a third pint before venturing off to get something to eat and as I ordered - Sue, the landlady, says "Do you like Theakston beers?" (they had some Grousebeater on another pump which I hadn't even considered buying) - so when I said "not really" she smiled and pointed to the pump and said "I've no idea what got into them with this one - it's terrible, would you like to try it?". So she poured me a snifter.
I'm not wholly convinced by Theakston doing pale beers - the Lightfoot I had when I was in Robin Hood's bay last year was nice enough but, by and large, it didn't seem a natural style for them. I think I said as much to Sue as I swirled the taster and sniffed.
It smelt AWFUL. A little bit like teenagers' sweaty socks. There was a fruity note in there somewhere but it was completely overwhelmed.
Then I tasted it. If possible, it tasted worse than it smelled. It was barely like beer at all - much more like wheaty-tasting jelly-tots.
I passed it to S - who was even more scathing than me.
This is where the seasoned beer-drinker gets to remind themselves there's a difference between bad beer, and beer which has gone bad.
This stuff was fresh and decently kept. I think it was a tad hazy but that's probably as a result of the fruit in it. There weren't spoiled flavours in it at all. It was just nasty beer.
Sue said "the people who were in here a moment ago really liked it, I don't understand" - well, each to his own, I reckon.
She shook her head ruefully as she put a "Special price £2.50" sticker on the pump.
Well, as an aside, we're quite excited about next weekend because the Tour of Britain is passing through, and we're doing "Open Eastbourne" (which we've been co-ordinating) and we've got some friends visiting for both events...and, possibly more importantly, for P (who is one of S's oldest friends) and S to revisit their beer-drinking youth. Yes, you knew it would come back to beer, didn't you?
As lads, S, P and M (with whom we drink regularly in Brighton before and after football) had a few regular haunts - the Eagle, the Dolphin, the Hurst Arms and the Victoria and I'm pretty sure that we'll need to visit several of these.
But S is particularly keen to take P to the Crown which is not somewhere they ever frequented because we're pretty sure P will be as smitten as us by good beer served straight from the cask.
Anyhow, enough of looking ahead...last night we, as ever, dropped into the Nightingale upon my arrival.
Since buying out the tie of the pub, the landlady and landlord have been able to vary the beer they buy a bit...and the price has dropped a little (that's right, you heard me...they didn't trouser the extra revenue, they passed at least some onto their customers).
Yesterday they had a dark beer by Wolf (the name of which I can't remember, and isn't on their standard cask list) which was decent enough - a bit like a better version of Tring's Colley's Dog. But they also had on Newby Wyke Banquo which is a lovely, lovely beer. Yes, it's golden and hoppy but it's well balanced and very drinkable.
So it was that we decided to stay for a third pint before venturing off to get something to eat and as I ordered - Sue, the landlady, says "Do you like Theakston beers?" (they had some Grousebeater on another pump which I hadn't even considered buying) - so when I said "not really" she smiled and pointed to the pump and said "I've no idea what got into them with this one - it's terrible, would you like to try it?". So she poured me a snifter.
I'm not wholly convinced by Theakston doing pale beers - the Lightfoot I had when I was in Robin Hood's bay last year was nice enough but, by and large, it didn't seem a natural style for them. I think I said as much to Sue as I swirled the taster and sniffed.
It smelt AWFUL. A little bit like teenagers' sweaty socks. There was a fruity note in there somewhere but it was completely overwhelmed.
Then I tasted it. If possible, it tasted worse than it smelled. It was barely like beer at all - much more like wheaty-tasting jelly-tots.
I passed it to S - who was even more scathing than me.
This is where the seasoned beer-drinker gets to remind themselves there's a difference between bad beer, and beer which has gone bad.
This stuff was fresh and decently kept. I think it was a tad hazy but that's probably as a result of the fruit in it. There weren't spoiled flavours in it at all. It was just nasty beer.
Sue said "the people who were in here a moment ago really liked it, I don't understand" - well, each to his own, I reckon.
She shook her head ruefully as she put a "Special price £2.50" sticker on the pump.
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