Every Saturday we round-up the best writing about beer and pubs from the past week. This time we’ve got Landlord, Norwich, and more.
First, some news. Thomas Hardy Ale is one of those renowned, revered beers that is nonetheless not in regular production. It comes and goes every few years, under new stewardship. The latest vintage is available in the UK as a partnership between Italian outfit Interbrau S.P.A. and distributor James Clay.
Rachel Hendry has written a long, thoughtful piece about the cult cask ale Landlord from Keighley brewery Timothy Taylor:
Landlord requires at least 48 hours of cellaring before it can be served—Tim even suggests leaving it a week. Once begun, the cask is only good to pour for about three days, time becomes the fifth ingredient… The cellar has a choice, it can become a place of transformation, or a place of ruin. Casks put on too quick, or served for too long, can leave a sour taste in a person’s mouth. The name Timothy Taylor becomes forever associated with a bad pint. It is a supply chain of trust, the production of real ale. A brewery reaches out to a pub and asks: will all my work be for nothing at your hands?
For Bon Appétit Kate Bernot has written about the decline in draught beer drinking in the wake of the pandemic:
For Gen Zers who turned 21 during the pandemic’s shutdowns, staying home became the default social mode… The decline in draft beer is a decades-long story, though COVID-19’s temporary closure of bars and restaurants accelerated the pace of those losses. On a national scale, data company Draftline Technologies estimates between 7 and 13% of all draft lines are empty—installed and ready, but not dispensing any beer. If trends continue, draft beer could become a novelty, or perhaps, a relic.
(We were able to read the story the first time we clicked through, but then it disappeared behind a paywall. Here’s an alternate link via MSN.)
Chris Dyson has shared more notes from his pub crawling around northern towns, this time reporting from Bradford, which is another place we’ve had on our to-visit list for years:
The Lord Clyde is situated on the corner with Tetley Street, which is somewhat appropriate as it became a Tetleys pub in 1959 when the Leeds brewery took over the local William Whitakers brewery, who’d actually stopped brewing in 1928 and had subsequently sold Tetleys’ beers in their pub estate. The pub is named after Field Marshal Colin Campbell, 1st Baron Clyde, a British Army officer born in 1792, who was a key figure in the 19th century Opium wars and became a hero of the Indian mutiny when he commanded the British forces in India. There is no evidence to suggest he ever had any connections with Bradford, but as was the way in Victorian times many pubs were named in honour of famous military figures. And elsewhere in the country there are other pubs called Lord Clyde, or Sir Colin Campbell, as he was before he was given his peerage in 1858… I liked the Lord Clyde too; it was fun, it was friendly, a happy place.
Irish blogger The Beer Nut has provided another of his detailed observations of the English scene, reporting from Norwich, where he enjoyed, or at least encountered, a lot of cask ale:
It was CAMRA’s turn to host the autumn meeting of the European Beer Consumers Union this year, and the powers that be in that august institution picked Norfolk as the destination. It’s famous for its barley, you know. The county town of Norwich also has plenty of beery attractions, including lots of very pleasant pubs. Why, you’d nearly think you were up north… Reuben and I didn’t have to stray too far from our Premier Inn to find our first one: The Rumsey Wells, owned by the Adnams brewery. I’m a longtime fan, and this was my first time drinking on their home turf. On cask, unusually, was a Landbier that Adnams has brewed in collaboration with Londoners Five Points, called Distant Fields. It’s copper coloured and has what is for me the signature Adnams taste: dry tannins with immense thirst-quenching power. There’s a little noble-hop character alongside this; some dried grass and aromatic herbs, but it didn’t do much else to convince me it’s a German-style beer. The flavour, a full body, and low-level cask carbonation made it seem far more like a high quality bitter to me. That’s fine. It’s what I’d want in an Adnams pub.
Ron Pattinson has also been on the ground in England, drinking in pubs in Kent and is worried about the health of the English pub:
First night there, Thursday, we went to the Royal Cheriton on Cheriton High Street. Three customers. A mother and her ten-year-old daughter, dressed for Halloween, and an old chav in a corner nursing a pint. When we left after a couple of pints, we were the last customers. I’ve never seen the pub that quiet at any time of day… Next day, Friday, we’re in Dover for some shopping. (At Iceland, don’t judge me.) A new shopping centre close to the docks. I notice a pub right next to it and think “That’s a bit of luck for that boozer, having a load of shops built right next to it.”… Mikey has something to do, so I think what I always think when I have a free moment and there’s a pub nearby: “Let’s give that pub a try.”… Totally deserted…
(Chav, Ron says, is a traditional alternative for ‘bloke’ in Newark on Trent where he grew up, rather than a pejorative term.)
It’s worth saying that we, and others, have observed a realignment: pubs in town are often busier on Thursday than Friday, because people choose to work from home, in the suburbs, on Fridays. But, yes, we’ve also seen some very quiet pubs in the past year or two.
Finally, from social media, a worrying update that suggests things are not changing where they need to change:
Just heard about two brewers being very inappropriate with women at a beer festival recently (one incident is definitely sexual assault). I wonder why I haven't attended a single beer festival this year. Disgusting.
— Anaïs Lecoq (@anahlcq.bsky.social) November 15, 2024 at 7:11 PM
For more good reading check out Stan Hieronymus’s round-up from Monday and Alan McLeod’s from Thursday.