Fast beers and slow brewers

Yesterday I delivered to a pub at 6.15 p.m. The poor landlord was frantically tapping and venting extra casks because he’d been told that ‘nine CAMRA people’ were en route to his pub, and he was worried because he only had four beers on the bar. I hope they turned up and drank more than the usual CAMRA trips. Three halves and a couple of extra glasses, please.

Anyway, it started me thinking about Marstons Fast Cask.

Fast Cask starts with bright beer. Chilled, filtered, and forced through some pretty sophisticated processes to strip out ALL of the yeast before racking. Then the yeast goes back, in a gel bead, to be released into the beer. And this beer is ready for sale “more or less immediately after delivery”.

Marston’s are very reticent about how this is done, for understandable reasons. I’m indebted to Pat O’Neill of South Hants CAMRA, whose excellent article explained the technology to me and provided the illustration I have shamelessly ripped off.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t an attack on Marston’s or their Fast Cask beer. I haven’t tasted any, and I’m not questioning the quality. If you have tasted, and have any comments, please let me know.

I’m just a slow brewer, who can’t see why this is happening.

Marston’s say ….. “Our fastcask process delivers real cask beer that drops bright immediately and overcomes some of the operational barriers associated with cask beer.”

What are those operational barriers? Bringing beer in out of the sun on delivery days? Stripping down beer taps and washing them properly? Keeping a clean, cold cellar? Having coherent stock rotation? Not moving casks once they are on stillage?

It’s not rocket surgery, is it? I suggest that the landlords unable to get this right are also the landlords who dispense stale beer through dirty lines into smeary glasses.

It’s a bit like dining out at Witheringspoon’s. All of the operational barriers associated with good, fresh food have been successfully overcome there. It’s hot, reasonably tasty, and doesn’t cost a bomb. But it’s the culinary version of smoothflow.

I leave you with the image conjured by Marston’s latest press release.

Fast cask means that it will soon be possible to drink real ale on high-speed trains. Lovely.

Think back to every overheated, overcrowded, overpriced railway car buffet you’ve ever been to. You’ve saved up to buy a pint, and you’ve fought your way past the seatless and the smokers and the loo queues in the aisles. You’re trying not to touch the sticky counter top as you sway and shout to make yourself heard. You know that whatever you want to drink is going to be served in a plastic beaker which will spill and split before you get back to your seat.

(Which is in a set of four. Your three companions are overweight/selfish with the legroom/listening to something by Morrisey on their tinny IPod).

You carefully position your ‘glass’ of real ale in the 6cm² of space left on the table, the train jolts over some points, and your glass is empty.

Don’t you wish you’d accepted the can of Special offered by the drunk in the next carriage?

Out of the mouths of babes and Yorkshiremen .....

A few months ago, a keen young Media Studies student asked us if he could make a short film about our brewery. We agreed 'cos we are hungry for publicity and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

The film was unscripted and I was out for the day, so I can honestly say, when the brown stuff hits the fan, that I had nothing to do with this, your honour. I'm also prepared to apologise to the John Smith and Tetley shareholders whose personal fortunes may have plummeted as a result of millions watching this clip and seeing the light. Chance would be a fine thing ...

I also need to point out that although Phil suggests it's possible to drink ten pints of our beer without developing a hangover, this is not something which a Responsible Drinker should attempt to replicate.

Anyway, here it is. Yorkshire Phil, looking debonair in his woolly hat, talking about brewing at the sharp end. With some rather striking shots of our brew vessels which appear to have been recycled from 1950's space rockets.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y-YxEERskfw

Beer challenge

We’re making a 'challenging' beer today.

Not that our beer is usually dull, in fact we’re rather proud of it.

But in common with lots of other brewers, in order to sell enough beer to buy more malt, pay the rent and get the occasional tin of cat food, we have to keep the abv down to 4.2% and under. And this practice has led to one eminent beer writer complaining about Cumbria’s love of “unchallenging session beer”.

I take exception to this on two levels.

We sell to pubs as far apart as Rugby and Hexham, Fleetwood and Nottingham. We also occasionally sell to beer festivals. It’s only at these we can shift higher gravity beers, and the volumes involved are so small that frankly we’d be better off not bothering. One nine, but only if they've never had it before.

And we all know that the majority of beer festivals present the beers so poorly that it’s a work of art discerning any taste at all from the slops in your smeary, unwashed glass.

So, eminent beer writer, it isn’t just Cumbria where a lower abv is the biggest selling point.

But I'm more annoyed about the suggestion that lower strength beer is “unchallenging”.

Without singling out any particular beer, I know that the real challenge in brewing is to pack tons of flavour into a pint glass without using complex and arcane mixtures of six different malts, a bucket of coffee grounds, some dead sardines and a tin of Ovaltine. Some brewers manage it very well. Real brewers who know a lot more than I do about beer know this. I dare you, eminent beer writer, to try Thornbridge ‘Wild Swan’ at 3.5% abv and tell me that this isn't is a beer of true beauty.

I digress.

So today we are brewing an ‘interesting’ dark beer, and it’s certainly proving to be challenging. Getting the right balance of flavours, fitting sufficient malt into our mash tun, and wondering where we are going to put it after it's fermented are the biggest challenges for us.

It’s a 5.5%, and we’re brewing 10 bbl of it. That will last us until around November, we think, because apart from the odd sale to pubs which pride themselves on never selling the same beer twice, we know it’s not commercially attractive. Pub-goers usually don’t want to drink more than one pint of 5.5%, and landlords don’t want to tie up handpulls with beer which will sit around for over a week. And we don’t want to see any of our beers sitting around that long.

We have one customer for our strong dark beer, and he sells 2-3 18’s a week (yippee). In the season. Come November, he’ll be down to one 9 a fortnight. Unless, of course, the eminent beer writer and his mates get together and come back to Cumbria to drink this beer - and the many other strong and beautiful beers brewed by Cumbrian brewers. You drink it, mate, and we'll make it. But you have to drink enough of it. Or adopt our poor starving cat.

I got those long-distance distribution blues

Delivery Vehicle Mk. I was our elderly but once elegant BMW estate. After six months the springs were a distant memory, so along came DV MkII. We called her Gloria. Well, we bought her on a Monday and she was a sick transit, so what else could we do? Gloria struggled, bless her, with the hills and the narrow tracks – to be honest she wasn’t too good with speed bumps – and so we sold her and moved on to DV Mk.III some 12 months ago.

Big White Van (BWV for short) has become a familiar sight in the more remote parts of the Lakes – some say we’re the fifth Emergency Service – and in the last year we’ve travelled over 40,000 miles in our mission to bring good beer at reasonable prices to the pubs and clubs of the north. So it was no great surprise to find ourselves involved in a road accident last week, when a rather large and expensive motorbike ridden by a man who really should have known better lodged itself (at speed) under the front end.

Scary. I really don’t want to relive the moment when I got out of BWV to look for the motorcyclist and could only see the rear end of the bike sticking out from under the van. Fortunately he’d had the presence of mind to ‘throw away’ the bike and just managed to slither clear in time, sustaining only a minor injury.

Likewise BWV. Just some cosmetic damage plus a smashed turbo thingummy.

So we contacted the insurance company and said “please, pretty please, can we get a replacement van?”. Several hours of paperwork later, there was a collective loud sucking of teeth from the van hire companies. Why on earth would anyone want a BWV? What do we mean, payload of 1 tonne minimum? Why would we need headroom? Casks of beer are only two foot tall, aren’t they? On and on it went. They can do Small White Vans, Medium White Vans, and any number of ten tonne trucks. But no BWV. I lost the will to live at several times during the course of the day.

Eventually a replacement was delivered. It’s pretty. There’s a CD player instead of the standard Ford crap radio all Transit drivers know and love. Seats are comfy, there are six gears, and at last I get the chance to drive a Merc. But it’s causing us serious problems. We’re having to jiggle around our deliveries and go out twice a week to some locations. Looks like anything over six 18’s is going to cause congestive spring failure and although there is a towbar, we’ll need to source a trailer.

So my point is, if you’re the type of person who likes to bowl along country lanes at speed, taking a little bit of a risk here and there, trimming the odd second off your travel to work times (you know who you are!), think again. You might be ‘lucky’ and only hit a sheep or a fell pony. You might be luckier still, and survive after a smash which shreds £8k worth of superbike into shiny scrap. But the poor sap you hit may have weeks of serious disruption to their business as a result of your cavalier behaviour.

No-one got hurt. Fine.

The insurance will pay up. Fine.

We will just have to work even harder just to stay afloat in this troubled time.

Not fine.