Reluctant Scooper

Dat Dere Liverpool

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 06:49:00 +0000

Mrs Reluctant is a Spandau Ballet fan. Now then, stop sniggering at the back. Shlepping over to Liverpool to see them play live gave me the perfect excuse for some Merseyside boozing. Would the beers be Gold? Or Confused? Let's Cut A Long Story Short...

With two days in town, we picked out six of the seemingly-best pubs to try. Mrs H is a wheelchair user, so level(ish) access and ground floor loos were important. I was keen on finding some decent pub grub. As for the beer - whatever was on offer would be fine. I'm always ready to scoop the unknown ;-)

Ship & Mitre

First pub we visited and possibly the best. Yards of handpumps that went untouched by me due to there being a German bottled beer festival on at the time. Standout beer was Gilden Kolsch. Sparky, helpful staff, eclectic decor, great food (by Burning Kitchen - burgers were immense). Only two regrets - should have asked them about level access (we struggled up a steep step) and we should have gone back for more beer (and Aspalls cider for Mrs H, served in a dinky Aspalls glass).

Doctor Duncan's

Flagship Cains' pub, noted as accessible in GBG but we couldn't see any obvious way in with a wheelchair. There was a rambling outdoor area to the side which may have disguised a level entrance but we saw no signs to point us in the right direction. Time was tight so we skipped this one, reluctantly. We had an appointment with Superlambbanana:

Baltic Fleet

Not listed as accessible but we thought we'd chance our arm. A wooden ramp at the front door made the bar accessible; the barman apologised though that the loos were now upstairs (or was it downstairs) - perhaps that was a recent change? An interesting pub with a ragtag of rooms, although it was rather smelly - possibly from being crammed full of concert-goers on successive evenings? That put us off having a meal in there. Great pint of Summer Ale, brewed on the premises (Wapping Brewery). Mrs H had hoped for real cider here, but there was nothing on. Only pub we visited that played the Beatles, but we won't hold that against them too much...

Philharmonic Dining Rooms

Level access, opulent architecture, mediocre beer (Harviestoun Hoptoberfest and Cains Bitter). Would have stayed longer but they couldn't serve food - problems with the gas supply. Gents loos were rather special (see below). But not impressed by bar staff storing a bike in the wheelchair loo - they're not supposed to be store cupboards!

Fly In The Loaf

Just a flying visit; we were looking for lunch after the foodfail in the Philharmonic. GBG had them listed as serving hot food; only sarnies were available. Shame, as the beers looked interesting and the whole pub was easily accessible.

Richard John Blackler (Wetherspoons)

One of those great-location Spoons; perched on a corner, plenty of natural light, easy access. Good range of festival beers on, though I passed as we were here for breakfast. And jolly decent it was. Not to say thirteen quid cheaper than what the hotel was offering. Cheaper sausage = more beer money :-)

We also tried to get in a couple of other chain pub/bars, the real issue being a lack of signage to point us towards alternative access. One bar did have a side door, unmarked, down an alley, though there was no way Mrs H could have opened it herself. Once inside, there was no obvious level route to the bar. Just a few signs would have make a difference - I shouldn't have to leave Mrs H in the street to go and find out how the hell we're supposed to get into a pub. It made us feel like our custom was too much of an inconvenience.

And whilst I'm on the subject - cobbles. Nothing wrong with ye olde pavementing, but the Albert Docks even had pedestrian crossings that we couldn't use safely, the gaps between the cobbles being wider than Mrs H's wheels. Combine that with the lack of drop kerbs and rubbish bags blocking the pavement, some of the Liverpool streets offered the worst wheelchair access we've encountered in the UK.

So, a bit of a mixed bag. At times we seemed to be going Round And Round, but perhaps that's just the Nature Of The Beast.

Do I need to sack myself - have I made too many Spandau allusions?

Er,

True ;-)

BrewDogging #9; Hardcore

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 20:23:00 +0000

Tastes of... Boxing Day fruit salad split under the Christmas tree. And rubbed with a caramel cloth.,
Smells like... fractured grapefruit stirred with a sticky hop stick
If it were a track by Radiohead it would be... Everything In Its Right Place

BrewDog love to stress their eco-credentials. So, I thought I'd do my bit for recycling. This beer review appeared some weeks ago. To be frank, I can't think of much more to say about Hardcore. It's not simply barnstorming; it's more tornado-through-the-blazing rafters.

BrewDogging #8; Bad Pixie

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 19:04:00 +0000

A long time ago, in a prototype competition far far away, BrewDog unleashed three beers. Two of them went on to be brewed regularly; the hop bomb of Chaos Theory and the none-more-black lager Zeitgeist. Tonight, I'm trying the one that got away - Bad Pixie.

Let's cut to the chase. It's a crap name; seemingly spat out of a random-title generator. Bad Pixie is only a few clicks away from Enamored Orc or Sexually Frustrated Goblin. The beer idea is better, though, a 4.7% wheat beer brewed with juniper berries and lemon peel. And when I tried one last year, I was almost impressed.

Time to insert a caveat here- this beer was released last year, it's not bottle conditioned, so it may be some distance away from BrewDog's intentions. Suffice to say, though, it poured flat as a fart. A wrist-twiddle did froth up a head, along with an aroma of slight spicy lemon and wet stainless steel.

More metallic notes through the flavour, too. Some pithy lemon, an itchy old pine whiff, all with the feel of being drank out of an old tin mug. Perhaps this was knockout in the summer. A year down the line, it's clinging on for dear life. I'd better go and drink the last one...

Two Spoons, Lloyd and Five in the Pot

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 18:28:00 +0000

Today's Sunday Shining plan; fresh coffee, Spoons brekkie, nifty couple of halves, gardening, Moto GP, afternoon nap, roast bits of duck, Top Gear repeats, Brewdog, Iain Banks book, sleep.

In actuality;

0815 Home. Bunjalung coffee. More coffee. Some Twittering.

0945 Babington Arms (Wetherspoons), Derby. Traditional breakfast (black pudding, not mushrooms) plus tea and toast. No beer.

0955 Very annoying child nearby reads out loud the ENTIRE breakfast menu. Realise, amazingly, that according to Spoons policy and common law, you're not allowed to insert the nearest fire extinguisher into pretentious children.

1005 Family of four have now spent ten minutes deciding on the combination of breakfasts to order. Clue: if all you want is breakfast and coffee, please fuck off to a cafe who will gladly serve you up some slop on a plate without hacking off potential beer drinkers.

1010 Family from hell order breakfast. I order Mordue Newcastle Coffee Porter. They ordered vegetarian sausage. At least my beer tasted of something recogniseable - sweet coffee, spots of roasted toast, fruity uplift to the finish.

1035 Standing Order (Wetherspoons), Derby. Hideous amount of ruddy-faced pee-smelling alcos mixing uncomfortably with well-heeled but slumming-it shoppers for breakfast. Lager and muffins, respectively. I have no choice to but to scoop the Burton Bridge D'aft Burton Ale. That's a ' that looks like an r. Therefore, Draft Burton Ale. But, for hideous legal reasons, it's called the former. I used to love Burton Ale so much that I drank so much of the stuff that I shat myself on Doxey Marshes. Fortunatley, I was taking it easy this time - still tastes like someone lit a match and stubbed it out on your tounge. Still fruity. Still ruddy gorgeous - like Bass with balls.

1055 Market Place, Derby. Remembrance Sunday service. There's a reason I carry my Grandad Tom's 1939-45 star with me always. He said - Never Forget. I won't.

1115 Thomas Leaper (Lloyds), Derby. And the worse three words that can be associated with a beer you really want to try... Coming Very Soon. So, no Thornbridge Pioneer today. Happy to settle for Leeds Gathering Storm (reasonably inoffensive, darkish with thin finish, some milky chocolate) and Cains Raisin Beer (superb; amber body belies soft squashy fruit aroma and sustained jammy fat fruit flavour).

1200 Flowerpot, Derby. Oakham Baja 1000 to kick off proceedings; it's a trojan Oakham. Deeperish copper that explodes with creamy pineapple. I was all set for another until I saw....

1235 Headless Zymosis. Brewed in the spring, released for winter, this is a 7.5% beer that looks pale and drinks pale until the warm alcohol-laden creamy hops kick in and start knocking seven bells out of your sensitive parts. It's like being the frog in a warming pan - Zymosis won't make you recoil on the first sip; it takes time before you realise (too late) that your knees don't work as well as they used to.

1305 More Zymosis

1355 Even more Zymosis

1445 Just one more Zymosis

1600 Apparently, it seems that I made it back to the bus via Marks & Sparks. It's time to go and warm up bits of duck and uncork an aromatic wine to go with it.

And I have to go find a BrewDog bottle to review. Although, I'm feeling rather dopey and if I sit in front of this keyboard much longer I may just ikfdsndvordsgviowed,gv iihidskvgi

Sorry. Fell asleep, face down on the damn thing.

Sometimes, the best Sunday plans are the one's that aren't planned.

BrewDogging #7; Trashy Blonde

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 18:42:00 +0000

Before you start to carp that journalistic standards are slipping chez Reluctant, let me assure you that I don't give a shit. It's Saturday, I've been out on the Thornbridge Jaipur and I've just spent ten minutes with my right hand in a chicken.

Whilst the oven warms, I've just enough time to sink a Dog and blog about it. I could tell you a story about Trashy Blonde, how I first drank it at an event called Beer Exposed and tried desperately to take a photo of the trashy blonde next to me drinking a bottle of the stuff. But that story isn't funny anymore.

Chugged straight from the bottle, I was surprised how malty this Trashy Blonde came across. Plenty very much of mango-laden passion-fruited slightly-overdone hoppiness took over and, sadly, those sweet malts were swamped. It was almost annoying at the end - I like a dollop of Amarillo as much as the next hophead, but at ABVs this low (4.1%) you need a littlebitta malt to carry the beer onward.

Now then. I have a chicken laden with lemon, cumin, ginger, garlic and coriander in the oven. I now have to go and choose a wine to go with it. That's right - beer is a wonderous thing, goes great with food.... but there are times when nothing pairs up better than a robust bottle of vino. For a statement like that, I ought to burn my membership card of the Beer Writers Guild, except that I don't seem to have paid my subs yet (sorry, Adrian).

So; Trashy Blonde. Unbalanced. Top-heavy. Promises the earth but forgets to deliver. All which make it a thoroughly blonde beer.

BrewDogging #6; Paradox Springbank

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 20:48:00 +0000

Sometimes, I get back home (after a hard day slaving in front of disaggregated statistics detailing the takeup of business support services in deprived areas of the East Midlands) and know exactly the beer that I want to open. Tonight, not a schoolnight, I fancied a full-fat lip-curling imperial stout. But not just any old impy...

The great thing about the Springbank Paradox is that is doesn't actually smell like lean spirit. It has an aroma stacked full of creamy chocolate, some toasty coconut, even a passing waft of fresh Fig Roll biscuit. All undercut by a growing stream of whisky; never overwhelming, always supportive.

Frankly, I could sit and sniff this beer all night like a big fat beer-sniffing pervert. But it deserves to be drunk. Truth be told, it's an un-nervingly thin-feeling beer; there's slight coffee and firmer chocolate, but a tad more oomph would carry this beer onward and upward. The Springbank's back into the equation at the end, but it would benefit from a maltier frame to swing from.

BrewDogging #5; Chaos Theory

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 21:28:00 +0000

Incontrovertible truths about Chaos Theory:

It is a beer brewed by BrewDog.

It was the 2008 BrewDog Prototype Challenge Winner.

It has oils escaping out the glass and up your nose.

It has athletically caramel malts.

It has a hop prickle finish that makes you swallow hard and say "please Miss, may I have another?"

It will be the last beer that I drink tonight.

Bottled Up: Quantock Sunraker

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 20:11:00 +0000

It's dark and freezing outside, bonfire smoke and crap fireworks fill the sky and I've started wearing Toasties around the house. Time for a summer beer, then.

Quantock Brewery have been around for just about two years and Sunraker was first brewed last year, winning Somerset Beer of the Festival at CAMRA Somerset's 2008 festival. It's a fantastic-looking pale gold colour, with an evaporating head and an aroma that I can't quite nail at the moment.

There's some baked lemon flavours in there, carried on a creamy palate that seems odd on the first sip but makes perfect sense several gulps later. The drying finish is punctuated by floral leftovers; still creamy, a little bready, un-nervingly satisfying.

Now I know what the aroma is - almost. It reminds me of a beer I brewed with Thornbridge called Julius; we chucked all kinds of stuff into it, but there's something herbal in the nose of Sunraker that rings a bell. Almost minty, spicy... ish.

To be honest, the creamy feel got slighly cloying towards the end. Several pints from cask, in a beer garden, on a summers day may feel different, mind....

Thanks to myBrewerytap.com for the beer, which is part of their 52 Week Beer Club

BrewDogging #4; Dogma

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 20:33:00 +0000

Twenty-plus BrewDog beers that I could have picked out the box tonight and I get the one I get really dischuffed with. Arse.

Dogma is the reincarnation of Speedball, the Portman Group-bating beer of last year. The labels may have changed (see below) but the mad ingredients remain the same. There's guarana. There's Californian poppy Even kola nut and Scottish heather honey. Perhaps just a dash of leprechaun toenail shaving too. It all sounds like too much.

Now then, I've tried this on cask (at the Coach & Horses in Dronfield, one of those uber-rare guest beers amongst the Thornbridge handpulls). There, it was softly sweet with warming pepper and dulled herbal essences. Whereas every bottle I've tried has been akin to drinking an apothecary's floor sweepings that have been suspended in a caramel gloop.

How do I find it tonight? An aroma like Lockets from my old grandma's coat pocket. A surfeit of white pepper fights its way out. Plenty of caramel and honey as soon as the glass reaches my lips, but it's those waves of warming pepper that puts me off. The longer it lingers on the palate, the more sickly-sweet medicinal it becomes.

And then.... something happens. Well, it seems to after twenty minutes. The honey on the nose goes earthier, deeper honey in the flavour begins to arrest the pepper. Left to go flatter and warmer, Dogma takes on some of those rounder notes I found on cask.

Can I finish the glass? Do I want to? I'm only half way down, it's been nearly half an hour, and I honestly can't say .

In the meantime, here's a footnote (click on the pic to enlarge). The Speedball label that drew the ire of Portman is on the left; the revised Dogma one on the right. It's s shame that they didn't keep the line about it being "a light chestnut, slow motion rollercoaster of a beer".

Innis & Gunn: Barrel of fun?

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 07:19:00 +0000

Innis and Gunn have been steadily expanding their range of barrel-aged beers in the last few years. I've never been a great fan of the too-sweet Original beer in the range, but some of the specials have had a pleasant twist. The brewery sent me through a few samples; I was keen on finding out whether they could deliver a spirited finish beyond their initial sweetness.

The 6% Blonde pushed its way out of the fridge first. Now, I'm sceptical about beers that promise subtle fruity nuances whilst at the same time insisting on being served chilled. The vanilla was more to the fore here than in the Original, albeit delivering clean oak notes rather than a sweet-toothed muddle. A reasonable malt base maintained the flavour, though any hop lift was lost through the chill. There were some soft citric notes in there, but the vanilla sweetness outweighed them as the beer warmed. As a standalone beer, it didn't really stand out - but (too late) I thought it could have make for a great dessert-course beer, perhaps something caramel-laden or a good 'n chunky rice pudding.

At 7.4%, the Rum Cask Finish sounds like a beer to be enjoyed with cheese & crackers & repeats of Top Gear in front of a roaring fire. But out of the fridge, I feared it would be too cold to enjoy in such a manner. The temperature wasn't the issue, though - the sweetness and washy rum reminded me of a badly-made cocktail. Rather than warming in a spicy fashion, the rum finish seemed to have stripped the cask of astringency and delivered it alongside a dollop of sugar into the bottle. Too heavy-handed for me.

So it was with a little trepidation that I reached for the Canadian Cask version. But I was glad that I did. Seventy-one days in an unspecified Canadian whisky cask seems to have worked wonders - or perhaps it was the addition of malted rye that gave it some gorgeous toffee and raisin notes. The vanilla sweetness was suppressed, the malts balanced finer, the oak notes supportive rather than smothering. Easily the most accomplished and balanced Innis & Gunn beer I've tried.

The only downside here is that the Canadian Cask version was a limited export-only edition. Bugger. The others are available in Sainsburys, so at least I can try the Blonde again the next time I fancy a beer to go alongside a creme caramel.

Thanks to Innis & Gunn for the samples.

Movember

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 21:38:00 +0000

No, I haven't dropped a donut on the keyboard again. Movember is an annual, month-long celebration of the moustache, highlighting men’s health issues, specifically prostate cancer.

The Thornbridge guys and gals are involved in the fundraising this year, with the brewers joining in and the regulars at their pubs being persuaded to contribute too. Cat at the Coach & Horses convinced me to give in a whirl. My tache capacity may be smaller than a stunted amoeba, but I'll give anything a go for charidee.

One man dies every hour of prostate cancer in the UK; more than 35,000 men will be diagnosed this year and prostate cancer is the most common cancer in men in the UK. Enough to make me think; hopefully enough to make you want to donate. Click here to donate online using your credit card, debit card or PayPal account.

PS - those ever-enterprising bods at BrewDog are taking part too, with 25% of the sale price of a Movember beer being donated to the charity. Nice one, Mo Brothers!

BrewDogging #3; 77 Lager

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 20:39:00 +0000

So, here we arrive at the latest BrewDog take on lager. Sorry, "artisan rebel pilsner". I was vaguely disappointed to start with. Rather liked those flowery notes of Hop Rocker; here it was a hidden hop whiff with a harder fruit feel up front. The lingering sweetness was there again, yet now an assertive caramel backbone flexed its way across your palate. And then the finish won me around, some lovely marmaladey hops and decent astringency.

Damn, I fancy another one now. With some hop-flower action in the aroma, I'd fancy three more. Here's hoping BrewDog don't stop their lager experimentaton here.

BrewDogging #2; Cult Lager

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 20:34:00 +0000

It's not the bastard son of Dean Friedman. It's the too-close country cousin of Hop Rocker. Cult Lager took what Hop Rocker started and buggered it up. Gone are the delicate flowers. Instead we have cardboardy malts. All rather wet, if you know what I mean (if you don't , mail me and I'll send you a diagram). Some redeeming and unexpected spice - my tasting was rather tardy in respect to its best before date, which may explain that.

But when it warmed a little, there was a four-minute window when the sweetness and light malt almost worked. Before it sluiced off down the path and joined the crap supermarket lager brigade, busy scrawling obscenities on the bins with marker pens.

Cult doesn't give lager a bad name. But it does make inappropriate gestures.

BrewDogging #1; Hop Rocker

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 20:12:00 +0000

Let's kick this Brewdog-a-day malarkey off with some lagers. After all, I truely believe that decent UK lager could be the turn-on to great tasting beer for a sizeable chunk of the drinking population.

Hop Rocker was, I think, the brewer's first foray into the lager market. Back in 2008 it was one of the beers that attracted the wrath of the Portman Group who objected to the label claim of it being "nourishing food stuff". Yeah, whatever.

But is it nourishing? Well, I found it to be nom-nom-umm. Good floral spots around the aroma, some sweetness, slight malt, underpowered finish. It's almost as if they forgot to put the drying finale in there.

Still, it gave me an excuse to buy some Hereford Hop cheese to taste alongside. The sweetness of both worked well together.

I don't want to damn with faint praise - if this was the only lager on the bar at the next wedding from hell that I attend, I'd at least have one thing to smile about. Perhaps Hop Rocker ought to be judged more as work in progress - tomorrow I'll take a look at its next incarnation

Brewdog Pimped My Kitchen

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 18:30:00 +0000

I feel sorry for the industrial metal band, Ministry. Jesus may have built their hotrod... but BrewDog pimped by kitchen.

And why would they want to go and do that? Well, I've about thirty different beers of theirs, bought, blagged and bequeathed over the last few months. So, for the whole of November I'm letting the Dogs out - one beer at a time. As you'd get heartily sick of seeing endless bottle photos, I'll do what I can to make the kitchen as punk-pimped as possible.

Bottled Up: Saffron Blonde

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 21:54:00 +0000

So, Bottled Up is back with the first offering plucked from the myBrewerytap.com '52 Week Beer Club' sampler. There's four 'summer ales' in there; the clocks may have just gone back but those beers will give me the chance to splash a little liquid sunshine into the autumn months.

My memories of Saffron beers are rather hazy. I know I've had one, during my brewery-scooping phase, but I can't remember anything that set it aside from the hundreds of other pale beers from new outfits that I tried. So it was fun to get reacquainted with the Hertfordshire brewer and this cool-filtered blonde.

First aroma impressions were of baked lemon and a surprisingly light maltiness. As it warmed there were hints of runny honey coming through, but also an occasional whiff of glue. More baked lemon on the palate, though, with a soft soapy mouthfeel.

Certainly one I'd try again. Makes me want cheesecake.... and I just happen to have some in the fridge. There's serendipity for you.

Welcome to myBrewerytap.com

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 19:46:00 +0000

It's not every day that I get offered free beer. Honest. I didn't get any on Tuesday last week, for instance. When the offers do come in, though, I tend to be selective - life's too short to review boring beer. I like to support the innovators, those brewers and retailers whose business model doesn't start and finish with dodgy bottles flogged at farmer's markets.

And myBrewerytap.com certainly seem to have come up with a great scheme. They're working with several dozen microbrewers across England and Wales to open up access to the kind of beers you won't find on supermarket shelves. You're buying from the brewers themselves - myBrewerytap.com process the payment, organise delivery and take a commission. It means that smaller brewers don't have to suffer the hassle of running an on-line store, whilst the beer-buying public get the chance to buy from a range of bottles that would put many independent off-licenses to shame.

One particular innovation of theirs really appeals - the 52 Week Beer Club. It does exactly what is says on the tin, delivering you a case of thirteen different beers every three months. The first case gathers together bottles from the likes of Fulstow, Saffron, Brentwood and Quantock - beers not often seen outside their home counties. But there's more than that - a bottle opener and pint glass are in the box too, along with genuinely useful tasting notes and brewery profiles.

myBrewerytap.com have been generous enough to enrol me into the 52 Week Beer Club for free. This means I have no excuse not to publish Bottled Up, my bottled beer review, on a weekly basis. Starting in about ten minutes time....

Straw, Chestnut, Ruby: A tale of three beers

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 18:26:00 +0000

There are many things that endear me to the Flowerpot in Derby. One of them is the predictable randomness of the beer choice. There could be Oakham or Durham beers, perhaps something from Marble or Thornbridge if you're lucky. There's always something from the on-site Headless brewery, of course; beers very much in the light-citric mold of Whim or Oakham. But never being sure of what's on is a real draw for me - especially at the weekend, when the choice of 16-odd beers (split between handpull and gravity) could be anything depending on what had landed in the cellar and how much the punters drank the night before.

Yesterday, a swift Saturday liquid lunch there offered up Marble Ginger and Thornbridge Jaipur. And, yes, I did mix them for the flavoursome joy that is Ginger Jaipur. The chance of those two beers still being on at Sunday lunchtime was slim to nil - great beer sells fast around here. And so it came to pass. But that meant I could random order a few pints knowing they'd still be quality.

One was straw - Millstone Tiger Rut, riven with Chinook, slight bodied but creamy lemon flavoured.

Another was chestnut - Durham Genesis, a keenly balanced, well-fruited, earthy bitter

The last was ruby - York Centurion's Ghost, plenty of toasty roastness atop a smooth malty base.

Three beers, three styles. Each in cracking quality, each distinctive in its aroma and flavour profile. And complete vindication for drinking whatever beer a good pub has to offer.

Repositioning the BrewDog Offer

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 12:56:00 +0000

Let's say you love BrewDog - love the beers, the experimentation, the attitude. But you're not keen on parting with 230 quid for a share in the company.

Because it costs too much / offers little financial return.

What if the offer was repositioned?

What if you could join a membership club, let's call it 'The BrewDog Pack'?

What if the benefits were;

- 20% discount at their online shop
- the chance to buy beers brewed only for club members
- newsletters/Tweets/SMS to alert you when new beers are available
- exclusive 'meet the brewer' sessions held around the UK
- an annual members get-together with lashings of beer
- your name etched into the wall of the new brewery, which your membership fee helped to fund

What if you paid £10 a year for the privilege?

Would you be interested?

So, what if you could only buy a lifetime membership?

What if that lifetime membership entitled you to an introductory case of beer brewed uniquely for members, along with a glass, t-shirt and bottle opener?

What if that lifetime membership also gave you an equity share in the business?

What if that cost £250?

Would you join the Pack?

Award winning pub, award winning beer

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 18:36:00 +0000

Last Friday I ventured up to Sheffield with Mrs Reluctant to see Spandau Ballet. So true, funny how it seems...

On the way, we needed to find a spot for lunch and while away a few hours before the concert started. Somewhere with good food, great beer and an easy-going vibe. The Coach & Horses in Dronfield proved to be the ideal choice - as always.

Just inside Derbyshire but only six miles out of Sheffield city centre, the C&H fulfils many roles - real ale haunt, brewery showcase (for Thornbridge), foodie pub and thriving local. Its success is built upon insightful investment by Thornbridge Brewery and imaginative management by Cat Mueller. The head chef, Mark Taylor, can often be found at the bar - for Thornbridge beer to use in his appetising modern British dishes. The bar staff are sparky and well beer-educated. You may even end up being served by one of the Thornbridge brewers; the brewery manager Kelly Ryan is Cat's partner and not averse to pouring the odd pint for, ahem, quality control purposes.

Given that I live thirty miles away, I end up here often enough - via two trains straight after work, or taking the bus here after a refreshing afternoon around the Sheffield pub circuit. Or persuading my wife to drive us up here for a lazy weekend lunch. With a pint of Jaipur in hand, I'd think to myself... 'I really ought to write about this pub. Maybe even resurrect my late lamented Pubs To Love series'. Then I'd have another four pints and forget all about it.

But this time I've remembered to write something, spurred by a unique clutch of awards. The Coach won Sheffield CAMRA's District Pub of the Year award back in August; Thornbridge Jaipur won Champion Beer of the 2009 Sheffield CAMRA festival at the beginning of October. Last week, at the Brewing Business Awards run by the Society of Independent Brewers, Thornbridge won Best Support for On Trade Customer - recognition of how it turned the Coach around from a failing pub to a thriving concern. So I got a warm fuzzy feeling to be drinking an award-winning beer in an award-winning pub. Then again, I often get a warm fuzzy feeling when I drink Jaipur....

I'm proud to tell people that I'm a Coach customer - with a pub this good on my doorstep (almost), it would be rude of me not to drink there as often as I can manage.

Reluctant Scooper PLC?

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 19:15:00 +0000

Love the blog? Want to own the writer?

In a ground-breaking and revolutionary business move, Reluctant Scooper is considering offering his readership the chance to own part of his fastly-growing blog. The audacious move gives people the chance to know what it feels like to own part of a blog run by a middle-aged fat man with a reasonable beer cellar but a dubious taste in chunky jumpers. Much more than an investment, people will be buying into the Reluctant Scooper philosophy, vision and culture as shareholders will also have involvement in the running of the blog and be allowed to vote online on key decisions. Like kicking me in the arse to write more often. Or whether I should have yet another bottle of Brewdog Hardcore.

That community of literally some investors will receive a lifetime discount on my homebrew (when I get around to brewing it), a fawning piece of vacuous PR on this site and a steak in one of the most ground-breaking, revolutionary and downright cool restaurants of our time. Or a Little Chef, depending on your location. Whatever money raised will provide the funding for a carbon-neutral piss-up at a local brewery.

Notes:

1) Investments, like Reluctant's waistband, can go down as well as up. Though, given his girth, not down by much.

2) I would retain the right to instruct shareholders to come over and bring me beer / butcher press releases when I can't be arsed to / clean my fermentation bucket out. Generally, be my beer bitches.

3) Best of luck to the guys at Brewdog with their share scheme. As someone who works with startup companies, I know how difficult it is to secure equity deals that are attractive to both sides, particularly in this economic climate. And like 98% of the 'ground-breaking' deals I'm offered to participate in, I have to say... I'm out.

On A Bummel With A Beer

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 17:04:00 +0000

"It has been a pleasant Bummel, on the whole," said Harris; "I shall be glad to get back, and yet I am sorry it is over, if you understand me."

"What is a 'Bummel'?" said George. "How would you translate it?"

"A 'Bummel'," I explained, "I should describe as a journey, long or short, without an end; the only thing regulating it being the necessity of getting back within a given time to the point from which one started."

Autumn's closing in, Sunday lunch was sat in a pot waiting to be heated, the Brazilian Grand Prix had the common decency not to start until 5 o'clock, so I had no excuse not to lash on my boots and go out to kick some leaves around for a while. All I had to do was be back before the pot bubbled over. And find a beer to take with me.

I live minutes away from some gorgeous rolling countryside, so I owe it to myself to get out and about when I can. The fact that there's an excellent farm shop and an award winning pub within a 20 minutes walk either side of the house tends to force me out now and again. But today, with the leaves turning, the wind whistling and no need to be back until late afternoon, a bummel seemed a worthy thing to do.

So I wandered over the bottom fields, disturbing knots of rooks picking over clotted brown earth. Through copses shredding turned leaves into a keen breeze. Then over a sandstone ridge where the woodland has been clinging on for time immemorial. And with long-tailed tits scampering over the branches, with squirrels diving for dear life, with the wind literally whistling through my hair, I stood back and enjoyed a beer:

Brewdog Paradox Longrow carries a whiff of smoke, some toasty roasty notes, clean whisky and some dark, dark cherry buried deep into an accomplished malted finish. Nothing but great beer, tweeting birds and rustling trees for fifteen minutes. The rest of the walk was taken with a dirty great smile on my face. I really ought to bummel more often.

Top quote from Jerome K Jerome, 'Three Men On A Bummel'. Photos (c) me

Brewdog: Punk versus Monk

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 16:18:00 +0000

Now, I like Brewdog beers. One the one hand, Punk IPA is chock full of enticing hops. And Punk Monk IPA has the allure of Belgian yeast. But which is better? There's only one way to find out.... FIGHT!

Looks: Punk has a hophaze about it, Monk positively breathes out light. Both have been in the fridge for weeks. Monk looks incredibly appealing, so it delivers an uppercut to Punk's frosty jaw. 0-1 to Monk.

Aroma: Punk explodes with fat, juicy citrics. Monk sees those citrics and raises with ground spice, wafting brine and a sustained sugary goosegog tang. Spices to the solar plexus make it 0-2 to Monk.

Flavour: Punk rides a crescendo; those fat hops deliver gorgeous tropical fruit flavours, a smear of caramel and biscuit lifts the balance. Monk takes the fruits and yeasts them up a bit; spices itch away around the edges but the esters fall away too soon. A slightly thin feel there means that Punk punches back to the midriff: 1-2.

Palate: Punk pulls off the kind of trick that the very Devil couldn't do; drying hops vie with warming alcohol to turn out a well balanced finish. It seems too good to beat... but Monk responds with that late surge of spicy, yeasty, fiendishly moreish-ness. 1-3 to the Monk. And, laydeez en geentelmeen, we have got ourselves a winner!

Punk folds, albeit not like a 'cheap hooker who got punched in the stomach by a fat guy with sores on his face'. Monk triumphs; if only it could sustain those full-fat estery notes in mid-bout, it could be a contender for a world crown.

Put it this way; in jazz terms, Punk is indeed John Zorn (off the wall, transatlantic influence) but Monk is pure Theo (tight, unorthodox, idiosyncratic). If you gottem, crack open the bottles, listen up and decide for yourself:

Steel City Brewing

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 20:52:00 +0000

Take two opinionated hopheads with a manifesto, let them loose on a brew kit and maturate. What do you end up with?

Steel City Brewing. The backstory can be found here; suffice to say this is a story about a couple of guys who love hops, enthuse about hops, believe there ought to be more hoppy beers and so decided to get off their arses and brew a beer full of the damn stuff.

And how did it turn out? From my sampling tonight at the launch event in Sheffield, surprisingly well. Why surprising? Because I've drank with Dave and Gazza and I know that they don't just love a hoppy beer - they like a glass so crammed with Humulus lupulus that noses bleed spontaneously. Their first brew, Hop Manifesto, proved to be commendably restrained - certainly hoppy on the nose (Amarillo dry hopped, natch) but the Centennial, Cascade and Chinook in the body were pegged back, albeit perhaps by accident rather than design. Dave said that they'd over-watered the brew, so the ABV and intensity dropped from expected levels.

It's a good, clean hopped beer - as a first brew, it puts down an assured marker. They know they can go hoppier - and a tad more maltier, because rippling-muscle hops without a malt backbone would just make for a pongy infusion (Brewdog Nanny State, anyone?)

There were two other versions of Hop Manifesto on the Harlequin bar tonight; a none-dry-hopped version bearing the catchy name Bez Suchého Chmele and a lemon-zested variant for uber-scooper Brian Moore's 70th birthday, Life of Brian. The latter was a huge Toilet Duck mess; the former I found to be a better drink than Hop Manifesto itself. Why? Hop Manifesto's Amarillo dry-hop was enticing, but the full-on-ness expectation wasn't followed through into the flavour. Whereas Bez Suchého Chmele just gets on with the job of being a clean, lean hop delivery system - a tad more Maris wouldn't go amiss, but there was still a balance that surprised and delighted.

So, Steel City Brewing say they "know what hops are for". They're not far wrong. 'Underpowering' the first brew may be a salutary lesson - slap those hops in, lads, just don't forget that those fermentable sugars don't just appear out of fresh air. Please, please, pretty please do brew a hoppy stout this winter (I'm always glad to assist by standing around, making tea, offering sarcasm etc). And - lemons. Always go for half as much as you think you need. Then half again.

(As our roving reporter photo at the head of this article shows, sometimes Dave Unpronounceable does actually appear to work for a living. Be assured that he was charging for that beer. We were in Yorkshire, after all).

PS - 'nuff respect to Pete Roberts at the Brew Company, where Steel City are let loose to do their stuff.

For the hell of it

noreply@blogger.com (haddonsman) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 20:06:00 +0000

I have a fridge full of beer. Placed there on the assumption that, when I get home from work, they'd be just the beers I'd fancy. I was wrong.

I have a cellar full of beer. When I say cellar, I mean a converted garage. When I say full of beer, I mean there's boxes crammed between the spare toilet rolls and the ironing board. Those boxes are stuffed with a selection of interesting and well-regarded beers. You'd think these would be the beers I'd fancy at any and every time. You'd be wrong.

You see, the beers in the fridge were put there when I knew I fancied something light and hoppy. Tonight, I don't want light and hoppy. The boxes are full of beers that are dark, and challenging, and rare and .... too good to drink tonight. Too good to drink any damn night of the week. And there's my problem.

Really; MY problem. I shove my hand in a box, pull out a bottle, think; "nah, I can't drink THAT tonight because it's so rare/it's my last one/it's the only one I'll ever see". Etc.

And tonight I thought - stuff that for a game of soldiers. What's the point of tracking down great beers and not enjoying them? Why not drink them for the hell of it? Sod the clever article idea/food pairing/session tasting/special occasion. Drink 'em like you stole 'em.

So, right now, I'm enjoying a 2008 Alaskan Smoked Porter. Chocolate bacon, unexpected hop nibbles, ash-like woodsmoke notes.... a damn fine beer, far more manageable than Schlenkerla. And absolute vindication for drinking the great beers you have. Right now.