Monday 18 March 2024

Ipanema

I rise at 8:30. And go down for breakfast almost immediately.

Same drill as always. Bacon and scrambled egg for main. Fruit for pudding. A perfectly balanced meal. Along with orange juice and lots of coffee. I’m such a healthy bastard.

After berkkie, I wander down to the supermarket for a few bits and bobs.  Mostly drinks. It’s so handy having a supermarket just 100 metres away. One of the reasons I chose to return to this hotel.

I want to take advantage of my roaming data. Did I mention that I always get data while I’m away? In this case, a local sim. Though not one bought in Brazil, as you need a Brazilian id for that. I bought one over the net that isn’t Brazilian but has data for Brazil. Don’t ask me how that works.

I head to the beach, just to send a photo to annoy Mikey. No plans to sit on the beach. But it’s so tempting, I do anyway.

“A large caipirinha, please.”

“700 mil?”

“Why not?”

Perhaps the drinks help lure me into lingering. And the prices. 30 reals is a steal for a cocktail that size. Especially on a beach as beautiful as this. 

I settle myself in a chair under an umbrella. But I notice my knees are in the sun. Dangerous. Since I didn’t bother with sunscreen, not having intended sitting on the beach. Last year I was caught by the sun even though I kept to the shade all the time. Just from the sun reflecting off the white sand.

A middle-aged bloke asks me to keep an eye on his bag while he has a dip in the sea. Turns out he’s Argentinian. Just like the empanadas they come round selling.

It’s not that busy. Far fewer people are around than last year. Is Wednesday a quiet day? There are fewer vendors, too. Only the occasional empanada or beer pusher. The cigarette seller escalates very quickly this time, going straight to coke.

“Er, no thanks.” My monster caipirinha will do me.

Having data, I fiddle on my phone a bit to show off where I am. Just like annoying young people. Except that I’m by myself. Mostly, I just soak up the joy. Of doing nothing. Other than occasionally sipping on my cocktail.

I only stay for the one. Which is quite a lot of alcohol. I don’t want to get burnt. Or ripped off my tits. Not yet, at least.

On the way back I drop by the supermarket. Where I get a couple of rolls, ham and sausage for my lunch. A rather late lunch.

Which I eat back in my room. While watching the Rugby League World Club Championship. I taped it on Saturday. Through the miracle of the internet, I can watch it here. Who would ever have thought that I’d one day watch Rugby League in Rio?

The plan is to head to a beer bar in Copacabana that opens at noon. But by the time I’ve finished pissing around in my room it’s almost 16:00. I decide to just go to Espaço 09, the beer place around the corner that opens at 17:00 instead.

I get to Espaço 09 at 17:10 and am told they’re not open yet. I just sit and wait for a while. I’ve learnt to be patient. I’m in no hurry, anyway. As long as I’ve got a seat, I don’t care.

They start serving about 17:30. When I order:

18 Do Forte Motim Rye IPA 6% ABV, 58 IBU, 34 real for 473 ml

Very citrussy, quite bitter, not bad.

I’m the only customer. For quite a while. Until a bloke about my age turns up. He doesn’t sit down. He’s just getting some draught beer as a carry out.

The kit at the back is still confusing me. I take a closer luck. The bits at the front might be serving tanks, but there does seem to be a full brewhouse behind it. And most of the beers on sale are 09 branded. Maybe they do really brew here.

As it darkens, people stream down the road returning from the beach. Many still in their beachwear. It isn’t the sort of weather that requires much clothing. I’ll be in shorts myself until I get back to Amsterdam. Count yourself lucky that you won’t have to gaze upon my shorted form. Not a pretty sight.

Not really fancying any of the other beers, I get myself another one of the same. There are two Stouts, but I’m not really feeling in a Stouty mood. Which is unusual. Even in the tropics.

More customers have shown up. A group of young expats from various nations. Students, maybe. Obviously, they converse in English. They get stuck into some food as well as beer.

The music starts – a bloke with an acoustic guitar playing cover versions. I don’t stay much longer. I’m just having a lazy time. And what better city than Rio to just lay back and do fuck all?

On the way back, I drop by the supermarket again for more of rolls. With the stuff I bought earlier, that will be my tea. Not being very hungry, it’s plenty.

There’s a queue for the tills. But the cashier beckons me to come forward. I suppose because I’m an oldie. Isn’t Brazil great?

After eating a couple of cheese rolls, I watch some internet stuff while sipping on whisky. My friend Tomatin shooing me to the nation of nod.



Espaço 09 - Coletivo Gastronômico Artesanal

R. Farme de Amoedo, 43
Ipanema,
Rio de Janeiro
RJ, 22420-020.

Sunday 17 March 2024

Leaving Amsterdam

Slight panic just before leaving. When I try to order an Uber, it tells me my linked credit card has expired. So a little last-minute fiddling is required.

Which means I arrive at the airport a little later than intended. Cutting down on my lounge time. Luckily, not much of a queue for passport control. So soon I’m in the duty free, stocking up on the essentials: a bottle of hotel whisky, Tomatin, and some miniatures for the plane.


The lounge is fairly busy. I kick off with my usual whisky and whiskey combination: Teachers and Jim Beam. No chipolatas today. Instead, there’s chicken bacon, which I give a miss. It’s just scrambled egg and mushrooms. A bit disappointing.

There’s only time for three rounds of whisky before I have to head off to my gate. Timing it well, I arrive a couple of minutes before it’s time to board. All pretty painless so far.

Amazingly, we leave the gate before scheduled departure time. Though it’s after scheduled time when we get to the Polderbaan for actual take off.

A pensioner couple from Wakefield sit next to me. They’re off on a four-week tour of South America. Including a cruise around Patagonia. Sounds like a lot of fun. Though a bit chilly at this time of year.

I spend the first 90 minutes of the flight reading Private Eye. Not wanting to get stuck into the films straight away.

First film is Showing Up. A film as dull as the colours in the main characters sculptures. It wanders along at an incredibly slow pace with nothing much happening. I’m still not sure what it’s supposed to be about.

Next is a Mission Impossible film. Which trundled along through all sorts of clichéd scenes. Like a fight on the roof of the Orient Express. And mostly seemed designed to let Tom Cruise do some showy-offy stunts. It was over 2 hours, but only part one. At least it filled in a lot of time.

The couple next to me aren’t very happy that, despite us being in seats which cost more, we’re the last to be served our food. And there’s only the vegetarian option left. After complaining, they’re given Premium Economy meals. Later the purser comes by to give a quite aggressive non apology. Not great customer service.

When the coffee is brought around after the first meal, I take the opportunity to add some knives to it from my whisky miniatures. Which, after the unappetising chicken sausage and mash, cheers me up a bit.

Amsterdam, the film, that is, is like Citizen Kane compared to the Mission Impossible twaddle. And fills up some more time in a reasonably fun way.

The final film is Deadpool 2. Which was pretty entertaining. Though we arrive before it ends.

As usual, there’s a huge long walk to immigration. Luckily, most of the pensioners on the plane don’t realise that they can go use the priority lane. Meaning there’s not much of a queue.

Normally, as it’s marked priority, my checked bag is one of the first out. That doesn’t seem to be the case today. Leaving me plenty of scope for worrying. Though I do have a change of clothes in my carry-on bag.

Next it’s time to get some cash and prepay a taxi. Soon we’re bouncing along the motorway and penetrating some massive tunnels on our way to Ipanema. Where I usually stay in Rio. At least this driver isn’t watching TV. That’s a plus.

After settling in my room for a while, it’s off to the supermarket. Where I buy a couple of rolls, cheese and some drinks. Just some ballast before heading off to dreamland. Which is where some whisky quickly takes me.


 


Saturday 16 March 2024

1914 Drybrough PI

For a change of pace. And I because I queued up one post short to cover all my travels.

On the outbreak of war, Drybrough brewed three Pale Ales, in ascending order of strength: IP 48/-, IP and IP 60/-.

With a fairly modest gravity in the mid-1040’s, Drybrough’s PI was the equivalent of an English AK. Though it wasn’t as heavily hopped, as was becoming the case with all Scottish Pale Ales. Fullers AK, for example, also had an OG of 1044 in 1914. That had 1.36 lbs of hops per barrel while Drybrough PI had only 0.91 lbs. That’s a significant difference.

The grist is much like an English Pale Ale of the period: pale malt, flaked maize and sugar. The flaked rice is unusual, however. It does turn up occasionally in beers, mostly just after the 1880 Free mash Tun Act. Barclay Perkins, for example, used it for a while before switching to maize. I assume price was the reason for preferring maize.

The sugar in the original really was No. 1 and No. 2. Though there was also a very small amount of something described as “Dxt”. It’s probably dextrose, but the quantity is so small – 28 lbs spread over 132 barrels – that it’s not really worth worrying about.

 

1914 Drybrough PI
pale malt 8.25 lb 82.50%
flaked maize 0.50 lb 5.00%
flaked rice 0.50 lb 5.00%
no. 1 sugar 0.25 lb 2.50%
no. 2 sugar 0.50 lb 5.00%
Fuggles 120 min 0.50 oz
Goldings 60 min 0.50 oz
Goldings 30 min 0.50 oz
Goldings dry hop 0.50 oz
OG 1044
FG 1015
ABV 3.84
Apparent attenuation 65.91%
IBU 20
SRM 6
Mash at 149º F
Sparge at 175º F
Boil time 120 minutes
pitching temp 60º F
Yeast WLP028 Edinburgh Ale

 

 

Friday 15 March 2024

Running Bass Charrington (part two)

More in the inimitable management style of H Alan Walker (HAW). When Bass M & B merged with Charrington United Breweries in 1967, Walker became its managing director and chairman, roles he had held at Bass M & B. The two halves of the new company had very different management approaches.

It led to a clash of cultures, in which authoritarianism easily triumphed under the leadership of HAW; all at M&B, and later BM&B [Bass M & B], including his fellow directors, had become used to his absolute authority and commanding style and offered no opposition. HAW once said "The smaller the brewery, the bigger the prima donna", in reference to the human problems arising when taking over companies. It was a comment too upon himself, as to his perception of those problems; his strength was also his weakness.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 103.

Walker sounds like a crazed narcissist in this next section.

Those present at the meeting were familiar with his views on the qualities of leadership, the principles of organisation, the ability to make and take the right decisions, and so on, as from time to time HAW put his thoughts into print and circulated them to senior employees as advised reading, and to others as recommended study; not bound up in little red covers, of course, but handed out on single sheets (see Appendix C). He referred to these and then began in earnest.

He outlined the essentials of his master plan - only two breweries, a London depot, overnight shuttle trains, the new brewery itself. He spoke of the benefits to be derived from his plan, in the manner of one conferring a privilege. He dismissed the fears of those about to lose their own regional beers, as having the petty-mindedness of provincials, men of limited faith and small vision.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, pages 107 - 108.


All sounds pretty reasonable, doesn't it?

The Runcorn project was already becoming a graven image. He went on about the advantages of huge production in new breweries, the advance of technology, the necessity for all present to get out into the market place and sell the beers. He announced the formation of a committee, made up of the company enthusiasts for his ideas, to be called the 1984 Committee, which would attempt to predict the manufacturing position of BC at that date, and in the meantime would organise to attain the decided goals. He wound up by saying there had been enough discussion within BC on the plan and the bellyaching had got to stop, as it would go ahead. He took a dim view of any more objection. He then asked if anybody had anything to say. They had not; the front row of his fellow directors was as silent as the grave whilst the rest of us were trying to memorise and digest what had been said. No note-taking had been allowed. Discretion kept us quiet; burgeoning anxieties were making us thoughtful.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 108.

"1984 Committee"? How creepy can you get? Was that deliberate or just ignorant? I suspect the latter. I mean, he doesn't sound like the sort of man you'd point out an error to. An error of his own, I mean.

Thursday 14 March 2024

Running Bass Charrington

Today I'm going to publish some excerpts from Anthony Avis's wonderful memoir: "The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990"

They all concern H Alan Walker (HAW), the first chairman of Bass Charrington. And someone with a rather creepily dictatorial management style. The scheme in question here is the new brewery in Runcorn.

In the run up to the introduction of this scheme. HAW had called a three line whip type of meeting at his London headquarters for all senior executives, to give his explanation of the grand scheme, and to reiterate his threat to sack personally anyone who queried it. The MD of BCN, Vernon Parker, could not attend, as he was ill, so I went in his place. I am not certain to this day if he was really ill or chose not to go, as he was in disfavour, quite unfairly, for raising profits but not volume barrelage, just when the flavour of the month with HAW was barrelage. Those who had been called assembled on the first floor of the Grosvenor Gardens house, sitting in rows, awaiting the arrival of the Great Man, like nervous schoolchildren. His habit was to make dramatic, stage effect, entries to this sort of meeting. His headquarters staff of young men having suitably corralled those attending, and warmed them up, television audience style, then stood around the edges of the room like ushers or warders. Those of the main board working directors involved in the brewery operations were also there, in the front seats, waiting - no question of them entering with the Great Man in a show of unity. Silence having descended on the meeting, there was a signal from the personal assistant by the staircase, and HAW descended from his second floor rooms, preceded by his butler who saw him seated, and then left. We all waited expectantly and nervously; if the intention had been to create such an atmosphere it had succeeded.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 107.

He sounds like a right twat. Who gets seated by their butler at a business meeting? It's clear that Mr. Walker was showing, through the whole forma=t of the meeting, that no dissent was going to be allowed.

This is really the way to get people to open up and give you their honest opinion.

He began by strictly warning all present that nothing was to be spoken outside as to what was said inside the meeting, and with that he glared round the room. This gesture could be unnerving, as he had an aggressive manner, his rubicund face topped with scanty white hair, projecting itself like a dart at the listener; to meet his gaze was to be reminded of the fate of those who looked into the eyes of Medusa. He had protruding eyes. He rarely laughed, but occasionally smiled thinly; his voice had a guttural quality. Conviviality was not what he set out to achieve when dealing with management, staff and employees.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 107.

Sounds like a terrible boss to work for. Unless you were a total sycophant. In which case, it would have been great.

Wednesday 13 March 2024

Let's Brew Wednesday - 1899 Barclay Perkins SDP export

At first glance this looks pretty similar to RDP. But there are some significant differences.

Big news at the malt mill is that the crystal malt is missing. There’s also more brown malt, but less amber and black. While the sugar is No. 2 invert rather than No. 3. Which seems a slightly odd substitution. All these changes, leave it a good bit paler than RDP.

There’s one sure sign this was a genuine export beer: the hopping rate. At over 19 lbs per quarter (336 lbs) of malt, the hopping is close to that of an export IPA. It’s more than double the hopping rate of RDP.

The hops themselves were all East Kent, from the 1898 and 1899 harvests. Just like all their other beers.

As a genuine export beer, this would have been aged before shipping. Probably at least 12 months. Along with Brettanomyces.

1899 Barclay Perkins SDP export
pale malt 8.00 lb 58.18%
brown malt 1.50 lb 10.91%
black malt 0.75 lb 5.45%
amber malt 1.00 lb 7.27%
No. 2 invert sugar 2.50 lb 18.18%
Goldings 165 mins 3.75 oz
Goldings 60 mins 3.75 oz
Goldings 30 mins 3.75 oz
Goldings dry hops 1.00 oz
OG 1065
FG 1016
ABV 6.48
Apparent attenuation 75.38%
IBU 139
SRM 32
Mash at 145º F
After underlet 154º F
Sparge at 170º F
Boil time 165 minutes
pitching temp 59º F
Yeast Wyeast 1099 Whitbread Ale

 

 

Tuesday 12 March 2024

Courage

I have very mixed feelings about Courage. Having ended up owning both of the brewers in my hometown of Newark, they owned almost all the pubs. All but one of which sold no cask beer. On the other hand, they brewed Russian Stout.

On the other hand, my first job after school was working in their Newark plant, the former Holes brewery. Filling kegs. It was so much fun. Not really. It was very heavy work. Which my 18-year-old body could cope with. Then there was all that free beer.

In the North and Midlands, Courage produced no cask beer at either their Tadcaster or Newark breweries. Drinkers in the South were luckier, with the London and Bristol plants producing some cask. Though Worton Grange, the replacement for the former Simmonds brewery in Reading, produced only keg beer.

London
Horselydown, the original Courage brewery on the South bank of the Thames opposite the Tower of London, was open all through the 1970s, not closing until 1982.

It produced at least some cask right up until its closure. Though it wasn’t always easy to tell which of their breweries the beer had been brewed in.

Reading
The former Simonds brewery in Reading was one of the constituent parts of the original group, Courage Barclay Simonds.

Having a good reputation for their beer, there was quite a bit of consumer resistance to its closure, orchestrated by CAMRA. Of course, this had no effect and the brewery closed in 1979 anyway.

Worton Grange
Opened in 1980 as the replacement for Reading, it was a massive brewery, with a capacity of six million barrels. Designed as a keg beer plant, it never brewed any cask beer. It was never greatly loved and closed in 2010.

It was one of the megakeggeries built in the 1970s when brewers assumed that beer consumption would continue to rise and that extra capacity would be needed. When consumption started to fall in the 1980s, the industry was left with considerable overcapacity.

Bristol
The former George’s plant in Bristol had a long history and a good reputation. After the closure of Reading, it became home of Courage Bitter and Directors.

It was founded in 1781 and had grown to a decent size. When Courage bought it in 1961 it had almost 1,000 tied houses, which would have made it one of the largest independent brewers. It finally closed in 1999.

I’m pretty sure that I drank both Courage Bitter and Directors which had been brewed in Bristol. Perfectly serviceable beers, if not particularly exciting by that date.


Newark

The former Holes plant has a special place in my memories, being the only brewery I’ve ever been employed in.

Bought by Courage in 1967, it continued in much the same way as before. Except that, as the other Newark brewery (Warwick & Richardson) had also ended up in the hands of Courage and been closed, they went from serving half the pubs in Newark to virtually all of them.

It continued to brew the former Holes beers such as AK and Mild. But also brewed one Warwick & Richardson beer, IPA. One thing had changed, however: none of the beer was cask. It was all bright beer, filled into 50 and 100 litre kegs and served by electric diaphragm pump.

The beers weren’t terrible, not being heavily pasteurised. Definitely better than keg beer. But not a patch on decently-kept cask.

Tadcaster
The former John Smiths brewery is the only Courage plant still in operation. In the early 1970s they phased out cask beer. And didn’t brew any again until the early 1980s. Which was frustrating, because, in cask form, their beer was pretty decent.

The Bitter was quite dark, dry and reasonably bitter. Magnet was similar, but stronger. For a while, quite a few Courage pubs in Newark had cask again. And fairly good cask. Then John Smiths Smooth came along and fucked everything up again.

Barnsley
A much-beloved brewery, famous for its Bitter. Which was the first good beer I ever tasted. Having taken over Warwick & Richardson before being gobbled up themselves by John Smith.

A few pubs in Newark still served Barnsley Bitter when I started drinking in the early 1970s. But, as the Barnsley brewery was scheduled for closure, most had swapped over to beer from Newark.

When the brewery closed in 1976, only one pub in Newark, the Wing Tavern, was still selling Barnsley Bitter.

Plymouth
This was one of Courage’s latest acquisitions, happening in December 1970. The brewery soldiered on for a reasonable length of time, not closing until 1983.

I remember coming across their beer at the Great British Beer Festival. They were unusual in using cast iron casks which weighed an absolute ton. Heavy, their Dark Mild, was top class.

Monday 11 March 2024

Watney Mann

The most hated of breweries amongst the CAMRA faithful. For the simple reason that they had moved aggressively into keg beer. Some of their breweries still produced a little cask, but they were deeply committed to keg.

In the 1890s, they leapfrogged into first place in London after taking part in the first big brewing merger. The result was Watney Combe Reid. A company that was producing over 1 million barrels a year.

They owned several breweries in different regions: Norwich, Webster (Halifax), Wilsons (Manchester), Usher (Cheltenham) and Drybrough (Edinburgh). Some producing cask, others not. Webster’s beers were OK in cask form, but nothing special. Wilsons beers, even though often in cask, I never cared for.

Mortlake
One of the breweries owned by the company when it was still Watney Combe Reid, it was their main brewery in London after the closure of the Stag Brewery in Pimlico in 1959. It was first acquired by Watney in 1889.

At the start of the decade, it produced no cask beer and hadn’t for quite a while. Though, under pressure from CAMRA, they introduced Fined Bitter, a cask beer served from kegs, in the middle of the 1970s.

Whitechapel
The former Manns brewery in the East End of London, it was bought by Watney in 1958 to replace their original Stag Brewery, which was demolished to make way for a commercial development.

Manns had been one of the major Ale breweries in the capital. Their biggest claim to fame was to have developed the first modern Brown Ale at the start of the 20th century. Oh, and their brewery tap, the Blind Beggar, was the scene of a notorious gangland murder in the 1960s. I drank in there a couple of times in the 1970s. Scary, is how I would describe it.

Norwich
Of the three independent breweries located in the town during the 1950s, only one remained in 1970. And that was in the hands of Watney, who had bought all three breweries in 1963. Of Steward & Patteson, Bullard and Morgan, only the last continued to brew.

Having inherited the tied houses of all three breweries, Watney had a near monopoly in Norwich and parts of Norfolk. Villages which once had a pub from each of the three, found themselves with just one. Or maybe even none. As Watney ruthlessly closed rural pubs they didn’t consider viable.

Webster
Despite being owned by Watney, Webster still brewed a range of draught beers typical of West Yorkshire: a fairly light Bitter and a Pale and Dark Mild. The latter two suspiciously of the same gravity. My guess is that it was one beer sometimes coloured up with caramel.

Wilsons
According to John Keeling, who worked in the lab at Wilsons during the 1970s, there was a big split between production methods of the Wilsons and Watneys brands. The former were brewed from malt and sugar and were fermented in open squares, cooled by a water jacket. While the latter contained 40% raw barley along with enzymes to convert it. They were then fermented in conicals.

Usher
Located in Trowbridge in the Southwest of England, Usher was one of the Watney plants which still produced a decent amount of cask beer. In 1977, around 300 of their 688 tied houses stocked cask. Though, typically of the period some of that was served on top pressure.

Drybrough
One of the many breweries which were located in Duddingston, a village on the outskirts of Edinburgh. The brewery started the decade with a mostly fairly dull range of keg-dispensed draught products, all parti-gyled together. Friends who lived in Scotland weren’t great fans of their beers.

It was one of the four Watney breweries which installed continuous fermentation system. And the last one to decommission it.

For a while, they brewed with 60% unmalted barley in the grist. But that was too much even for Watney and it was reduced to “just” 45%.
 

Sunday 10 March 2024

Cask vs Keg Best Bitter in 1976

Another set of cask and keg Bitters. This time, the stronger examples.

This time, there's no difference at all in the average value for money between cask and keg. Though the cask average is distorted by the spectacularly poor value of Watney Fined Bitter. A beer which was 4.5p per pint more expensive than the second dearest, Charles Wells Fargo. A beer which was considerably stronger.

Fined Bitter was a bit of a funny beer. It was the first cask beer bearing the Watney name for quite a while. As they didn't have casks, it was served from a modified keg. Based on the gravity, it looks like a cask version of Watney Special Bitter. I had it a couple of times and wasn't particularly impressed. Though that might have been down to poor cellarmanship. As Watney landlords mostly wouldn't have any experience of looking after cask beer.

A sign that keg and cask prices were levelling out is provided by Draught Bass and Worthington E. I'm pretty sure they were just cask and keg versions of the same beer. And you can see that the price of the two is identical: 25p.

That's all I can think of for now.

Cask Best Bitter in 1976
Brewer Beer Price º gravity per p OG
Charles Wells Draught Fargo 28 1.82 1051
Robinson Best Bitter Ale 24 1.75 1042
Courage Director's Bitter 27 1.74 1047
Devenish (Redruth) Cornish Best Bitter 26 1.63 1042.5
Bass Draught Bass 25 1.60 1040
Watney Fined Bitter 32.5 1.36 1044.2
  Average 27.1 1.65 1044.5
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 01 August 1976, page 17.

 

Keg Best Bitter in 1976
Brewer Beer Price º gravity per p OG
Tetley Imperial 24 1.75 1042
Usher (Edinburgh) Double Amber 26 1.65 1043
Bass Worthington E 25 1.60 1040
Charles Wells Noggin 25 1.60 1040
  Average 25 1.65 1041.3
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 01 August 1976, page 17.

 

Saturday 9 March 2024

Let's Brew - 1899 Barclay Perkins RDP

Another beer from Barclay Perkins’ alphabet soup of brewhouse names. I can make a guess at the first and last letters – “R” usually stands for “Running” and “P” for “Porter” – but I’ve no real clue about the “D”. “Double”, possibly?

Whatever the letters might stand for, this is certainly a Black Beer, whether you choose to call it a Porter or a Stout. The 25% of roasted malts in grist make that pretty clear.

This batch was brewed in the small brewhouse. Though, at 112 barrels, it was still a substantially-sized brew. Still pretty small compared to the 1,300 barrels of X Ale being brewed on the main kit.

It’s a pretty complex grist, with five malts, in total. Oddly, for such a dark beer, the base is white malt, the palest of pale malts. Along with a full set of roast malts: amber, brown and black. And in decent amounts, especially the amber malt. And no adjuncts. Only quite a lot of No. 3 invert. Most of Barclay’s beers, other than Porter and Stout, contained either flaked maize or flaked rice.

All East Kent hops from the 1898 and 1899 seasons. A fair amount of them and quite a long boil leave a decently bitter beer.

No ageing for this. Pretty sure of that.

1899 Barclay Perkins RDP
pale malt 7.50 lb 50.85%
brown malt 1.25 lb 8.47%
black malt 0.75 lb 5.08%
amber malt 1.50 lb 10.17%
crystal malt 60 L 1.25 lb 8.47%
No. 3 invert sugar 2.50 lb 16.95%
Goldings 150 mins 1.75 oz
Goldings 60 mins 1.75 oz
Goldings 30 mins 1.75 oz
Goldings dry hops 0.50 oz
OG 1070
FG 1020
ABV 6.61
Apparent attenuation 71.43%
IBU 63
SRM 37
Mash at 144º F
After underlet 154º F
Sparge at 172º F
Boil time 150 minutes
pitching temp 61º F
Yeast Wyeast 1099 Whitbread Ale

 

Friday 8 March 2024

Cask vs Keg Ordinary Bitter in 1976

Just a short numbery post today. One I wrote a couple of weeks ago to cover now, when I'm in Brazil. Having fun, I hope.

Lots of numbers and not much analysis. Just a quick comparison of typical cask and keg Ordinary Bitters.

What you're seeing here is keg beer move into the mainstream. The beers here aren't the first generation of specifically keg beers. Which were mostly Best Bitters. Or, at least, claiming to be. Some of the beers here, such as Tetley, are just a brewery-conditioned version of their cask Bitter.

That might explain why there's so little difference in price between the two. On average, about half a p. Not much at all, really.

Enough burbling on for today. I've important trip preparations to get on with. 

Cask Ordinary Bitter in 1976
Brewer Beer Price per pint (p) º gravity per p OG
Hardy & Hanson Best Bitter 20 1.95 1039
Banks Bitter 22 1.77 1039
Charles Wells Draught IPA 23 1.57 1036
Tetley Bitter 23 1.54 1035.5
Wem Best Bitter 24 1.54 1037
Burtonwood Best Bitter 23 1.52 1035
Jennings Best Bitter 23 1.52 1035
Whitbread (Fremlins) Trophy 25 1.46 1036.5
  Average 22.9 1.61 1036.6
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 01 August 1976, page 17.

Keg Ordinary Bitter in 1976
Brewer Beer Price º gravity per p OG
Fullers Bitter 21 1.67 1035
Matthew Brown Heritage 24 1.63 1039
Border Bitter 22 1.59 1035
Courage (Reading) Tavern 24 1.58 1038
Tetley Drum Bitter 23 1.54 1035.5
St. Austell Extra 24 1.54 1037
Whitbread (London) Trophy 24 1.48 1035.5
Alloa Diamond Heavy 25 1.45 1036.2
  Average 23.4 1.56 1036.4
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 01 August 1976, page 17.


Thursday 7 March 2024

Carlsberg vs the Big Six

It may be hard to believe now, but the Big Six, in their prime during the 1970s, were some of the largest brewing groups in the world. But, while large breweries on the continent, such as Carlsberg and Heineken have continued to grow, the UK's biggest breweries all fell by the wayside.

When Watney Mann were making deals with Carlsberg in the early 1970s, they were by far the larger brewery of the two. At least in terms of the quantity of beer produced.

The figures are from slightly different dates, Carlsberg being for 1969 and Watney and Bass Charrington from 1976. Even Watney, one of the smallest of the Big Six, produced more than double as much as Carlsberg. Which must have had an impact on the relations between the two. I've included Bass Charrington, the largest of the Big Six, for comparison.

So where did it go wrong for the big UK brewers? They didn't expand internationally. Or at least not as much and not as successfully. Obviously, there wasn't quite the incentive for this as there was for brewers like Carlsberg and Heineken, whose home markets were much smaller. 

Carlsberg vs the Big Six
  hl barrels
Denmark consumption 4,830,000 2,951,256
Total Carlsberg 3,571,000 2,181,974
Carlsberg exports 825,000 504,096
Carlsberg domestic 2,746,000 1,677,877
% Carlsberg domestic 56.85%  
Bass 12,831,060 7,840,111
Watney 7,698,636 4,704,067
Source:    
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, April 1970, page 75.
“The Brewing Industry, a Guide to Historical Records” by Lesley Hammons & Alison Turton.


Wednesday 6 March 2024

A scencic cachacaria

Here's a little prview of my time in Brazil. Part of a day out in the countrside touring distilleries.

Our first stop is Dupipe. We enter via a narrow and at times steep track. We struggle to get up one section. Good job we’re in a four-wheel drive. At the end, several dogs run out barking to greet us. Where the hell in the distillery?

A man of about my age appears. It’s the owner. We’re in a stunning tropical garden where tropical flowers thrust out from between mature trees of all different types. Several fish ponds on different levels punctuate the garden It’s ridiculously idyllic.


The owner thows some food into one of the ponds so ew can see the fish, which a surprisingly large. Then points to a toucan perching in one of the trees.

The distillery is in a shed. Above the door there’s a sign saying that it’s not allowed to enter drunk, but it is to leave.


Inside, there’s a small space with rows of bottles and larger jugs. In a connecting room, there’s the still itself, which he made himself. It’s rather, er, rustic. In the next room there’s a row if huge glass jars, where he’s making liqueurs from whole fruit. Including the strange pink bananas he showed us earlier in his garden.

Finally we get to the barrel room. The barrels are furry with black mould. Abd bats flutter around under the eaves when we disturb them. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.

The tour doesn’t take long. Then the sampling begins. First the silver and gold straight cachacas. They’re both very good. And the measures the size of a full measure. But the liqueurs are the true revelation. The standouts being the banana and the ginger. I’ve never experienced anything like the latter. It’s bursting with the flavour of fresh ginger: citrusy and with a tongue-tingling spiciness. Wow.

I buy bottles of the two straight cachacas and the ginger liqueur. You won’t find them anywhere else as he doesn’t distribute.




Let's Brew Wednesday - 1899 Barclay Perkins KK

I'm still chipping away at the recipes for my book "Free!". Even though it's not my current focus. Because if I don't, it'll be a nightmare trying to write hundreds of recipes at short notice.

By the end of the century, Barclay Perkins seems to have cut back to just a single Burton Ale, the weaker KK. Though that’s just relative. It still weighs in at over 7% ABV.

There have been some changes to the recipe since 1891. Out is the crystal malt, replaced by more base malt.  While in comes a little caramel. For which there can only be one reason: colour. And it does more than make up for the crystal malt in that regard.

As in a lot of their beers from this period, there are two types of East Kent hops from the 1898 and 1899 harvests. Which leave it pretty hoppy and a (calculated) 100 IBU.

I’m pretty sure this would have been at least a semi-Stock Ale. Which means six to twelve months secondary conditioning. Probably in trade casks, but possibly in a small vat. Along with Brettanomyces, of course. 

1899 Barclay Perkins KK
pale malt 11.50 lb 72.83%
flaked rice 1.75 lb 11.08%
No. 2 invert sugar 2.50 lb 15.83%
caramel 2000 SRM 0.04 lb 0.25%
Goldings 120 mins 3.00 oz
Goldings 60 mins 3.00 oz
Goldings 30 mins 3.00 oz
Goldings dry hops 1.00 oz
OG 1075
FG 1020
ABV 7.28
Apparent attenuation 73.33%
IBU 100
SRM 15
Mash at 147º F
After underlet 156º F
Sparge at 170º F
Boil time 120 minutes
pitching temp 60º F
Yeast Wyeast 1099 Whitbread ale