Boak & Bailey's Beer Blog

Every week we round up the best writing about beer from the past week. This time, we’ve got Breton pubs, pub grub, and sparklers.

First, some news. At The Drinks Business Jessica Mason reports on statistics about the apparent decline of the German beer industry:

Shocking new figures from the Statistisches Bundesamt office have revealed that global interest in German beer is rapidly diminishing alongside continued ambivalence for local beer in Germany itself… Germany exported 1.45 billion litres of beer last year — marking a 6% decline compared to 2014…  in Germany itself, beer sales slumped to 6.8 billion litres last year, a volume figure that was markedly down a galling 15.1% compared to a decade ago… Last year, Germany counted 1,459 breweries in 2024 — around 7.4% more than in 2014, however that figure is still plummeting from its pre-pandemic peak of 1,552 in 2019. Compare this to 2023 and the brewery count has seen a dip of 3.4%.

At Beer Nouveau Steve Dunkley has written about one of the most fraught topics in beer: the sparkler. His post reports on his experiences as a volunteer staff member on a ‘discovery bar’ at the recent CAMRA Members’ Weekend and presents a remarkably open-minded, constructive approach to the sparkler debate:

Let’s be honest, people have views when it comes to the use of sparklers on their beer. And their views are usually very ingrained and never going to change. It’s either Sparkler Good or Sparkler Bad, there is no middle ground… [We] attached a single cask of beer to a gravity tap and four hand pulls… This allowed us to present attendees with five samples from the same cask: gravity, hand pull with no sparkler, with a “flat” sparkler, a 1mm sparkler, and a vortex creamer. All five samples poured one after the other and set out in a line on the bar… [When] we’d sampled the fifth one, we got them to try the first again, the gravity pour. Each increment between samples may have been small… but the difference between the first and last samples was “like night and day” and “you’d not believe it was the same beer, let alone the same cask”…

We were excited to see another article about beer in Brittany, France, from Anaïs Lecoq at Pellicle. This time it’s about a pub whose very existence underlines the connections between Brittany and Wales:

Strolling effortlessly behind the massive wooden bar, Élise [Provost] is the first thing you’ll notice when pushing the door of Tavarn Ty Élise – Élise’s house if you translate it into English – in Plouyé, a small village in Central Brittany, France… For more than 40 years, the face of Ty Élise was Bernard ‘Byn’ Walters, Élise’s ex-husband. Patrons probably already know the story of their first encounter on the pub doorstep, in Summer 1979, but as she speaks they’re deeply invested in its retelling, as if Élise reveals new details each time… A group of Welsh guys was vacationing in the area,” she says. “Byn was passed-out drunk on the pavement, then the whole lot made a mess in the pub, jumping everywhere.”… “Was it love at first sight?” a woman asks in a laugh… Élise makes a face. “Not really,” she answers.

We’re always interested in the emergence of new beer styles, or sub styles. They don’t always ‘take’ but, even so, they can reveal insights about where the market is at, and what drinkers want. With that in mind, Total Ales Matthew Curtis has written about ‘savoury IPA’ brewed with monosodium glutamate (MSG):

Derek Bates [of Duration] is not a brewer to follow trends… So when Bates dropped me a text to say he was going to try an unusual ingredient in a new pale ale, I felt permitted to allow myself a single, cynical eyebrow-raise. But I also understood that this is a brewer – not to mention an accomplished ex-chef – who knows exactly what he’s doing and why. The beer, called ‘Crisps’ and brewed in collaboration with London’s Five Points, was to feature a base of pale malt, juicy Riwaka and Nelson Sauvin hops from New Zealand, plus a sprinkling of flavour enhancer E621 – more commonly known as monosodium glutamate, or MSG… Perhaps savoury isn’t the right word here. There are other, better, words I would use to describe this beer such as ‘bright’, ‘luminous’, or perhaps my favourite of all ‘resonant’.

The Beer Nut has turned his critical gaze onto a different type of style trend – one driven by branding and marketing more than thoughtful experiments with ingredients:

The ongoing trend for rustic-branded Mediterranean lager rarely troubles these pages. I am bewildered that there still seems to be space in this sector where Heineken’s Moretti and Molson Coors’s Madrí are slugging it out. Neither beer is any good, but that hasn’t stopped other large breweries trying to attract drinkers away from them with similarly-presented fare… Damm’s effort comes from its brewery in Málaga, and is called Victoria Málaga. It’s presented in a 66cl bottle and, like Moretti, the label features an old-timey bloke with a hat — he’s a German tourist, apparently, the beer’s mascot since the 1950s, before Damm bought and revived it in 2001.… [And] Aldi has taken a direct potshot at Madrí by creating an obvious knock-off, called Grande.

We were interested in Martin Taylor’s observations about the disappearance of food from Sheffield pubs for purely selfish reasons – because it supports our own observations from earlier in the year about the demise of ‘pub grub’. He writes:

Now, Sheffield has many great pubs, and many great unfussy restaurants, but pub lunches seem to have taken a knock recently. Proper hot lunches, anyway, you can always get a cob or pork pie… The Fat Cat, famed for bargain pie and mash, has just stopped hot food altogether, and top Irish pub the Dog & Partridge was no longer doing their authentic Irish burgers at lunchtime… No criticism at all; once a pub has hot food there’s always a load more staff and cost considerations, but a pint of Guinness or Triple Point (NBSS 3.5) really needed a plate of stodge with it, rather than just scratchings.

Finally, from BlueSky…

What's the matter babe, you haven't touched your Kasteel Rouge cherry flavoured condom!

[image or embed]

— Michael (@maristhotter.bsky.social) April 23, 2025 at 10:13 PM

For more good reading check out Stan Hieronymus’s round-up from Monday and Alan McLeod’s from Thursday.

Every Saturday we round up the best writing about beer from the past week. This time, we’ve got community pubs, pub communities, and indie beer.

First, some news from the recent Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) members’ weekend at which a motion was passed instructing the Campaign’s leadership…

to ensure that all relevant CAMRA publications and communications pledge preferential support to beer producers and suppliers that are independent of the influence of the multinational brewers, and to make the case persistently for this stance…

In other words, to prioritise support for independent producers, and to avoid supporting or publicising multinational brewing businesses – even if they produce cask ale.

The best summary currently available outside CAMRA’s walled gardens for members is via Keith Flett’s blog.

We’ll be pulling together some thoughts of our own in the footnotes post on Patreon that follows this round-up every Saturday.

Hazel Southwell took on the running of a large, somewhat decrepit pub in South East London last year. A side product of that has been one of the frankest and most interesting newsletters or blogs to have launched in recent years, recording her experiences – and especially her management of relationships with locals and regulars.

This week’s post was particularly impassioned, being a reaction to a UK Supreme Court ruling on the legal definition of the word ‘woman’, and how that might affect trans people. This passage struck us as particularly powerful:

That’s the thing about pubs, everyone in them is a real person. Suddenly both the GB News-pilled bigots and the woke lesbian landlady are real people who have to deal with each other, not the concepts of each other. And not to invent some sort of magical thinking but I think that’s a very important space, in a world that’s badly lost its way with a lot of made-up things, in forums better suited to online roleplaying than political debate.

At A Tempest in a Tankard Franz Hofer has attempted to pin down what makes a Wirtshaus, from decor to culture:

The Viennese claim the Wirtshaus as a unique ingredient in their culinary identity. But it didn’t take long before I realized that I had seen these kinds of establishments before—dozens if not hundreds of times, in fact. If there is something ineffably Viennese about its Wirtshaus culture, the Wirtshaus itself has a long history in Central Europe… What makes these places so special? It’s no one thing in particular. It’s the rusticity of some places, the homey décor of others. Wirtshäuser come in all shapes and sizes. Still, you’ll notice family resemblances. They all have a certain feel, an atmosphere of cozy comfort. This, if anything, is what sets the Wirtshaus apart from a restaurant. The beer flows more liberally here, the laughter rings louder.

At Beervana Jeff Alworth has made some interesting observations about the convergence of pale ales and pilsners, some of which, he argues, could have their style labels swapped without anyone noticing:

On one track we have lagers, clean and dry, with lean bodies and increasingly fruity and aromatic hop profiles. Instead of herbs and wildflowers, they waft the scents of American hops, and tinge the flavor profile with limes, tangerines, lychee, and cannabis. Sulfur plays no role. They are light and sunny, around 5% ABV, and slide down a throat with the ease of water… On another track are pale ales, stripped of body and sparkling, redolent of American hops. Made with light malts and clean yeast, they are platforms for mid-intensity hopping, with lovely bouquets and flavors crackling with those same citrus, tropical fruits, and a hint of something savory for contrast. They are light and sunny, around 5% ABV, and slide down a throat with the ease of water… Am I drinking a West Coast pilsner or a West Coast Pale ale? Does it matter?

Chris Dyson at Real Ale, Real Music has gathered together notes on a bunch of pubs across the UK that didn’t fit into his town-by-town crawls, but which do make sense considered as a type in their own right. That is, pubs near stations where you can hang out while waiting for a train:

It happens quite regularly. Often when on a rail journey where I have to change trains I have enough time for a pint while I wait, so I call in a station buffet bar or nearby pub… One place that I have called in a couple of times this year and numerous times in the past is the York Tap (opening image) which I have mentioned in previous blogs when I have been featuring York, but on both times I have visited this year the beer and ambience has been as good as ever… Another station bar that is an ideal calling point when in-between trains is the Draughtsman Alehouse, which is situated on platform 3b of Doncaster Railway Station, which I last called in on my way to and from Lincoln a few months ago. This is a gem of a micropub converted from a former Victorian buffet bar which had lain empty for 18 years before opening in 2017.

We’re suckers for stories about communities taking on the running of pubs and so pounced on this piece by Giancarlo Rinaldi for the BBC about The Plough Inn at Wigtown in Scotland:

The former Plough Inn in Wigtown was at risk of being turned into flats until local residents stepped in and took it over… Craig Hamnett, who chairs the Wigtown Community Inn community benefit society, said it was a relief not to lose the centuries-old hostelry… The pub in Wigtown had been in continuous use for more than 200 years… Its first licence was granted in 1795… Unfortunately the business closed shortly after the Covid pandemic… It has been a long battle but thanks to support from South of Scotland Enterprise the group was able to purchase the building for £330,000 and got the keys on Valentines Day this year… Thanks to an army of volunteers – and more than £30,000 from a community share offer – it recently reopened its doors to great acclaim.

Finally, from Bluesky, some interesting news re: the hype beer of 2025…

Can hardly believe it but I’m hearing that ABInbev/Budweiser is launching a sales drive behind draught Bass with new PoS and stuff. Glassware has already been spotted. Interesting development, if true, but let’s see…

[image or embed]

— Phil Mellows (@philmellows.bsky.social) April 18, 2025 at 5:39 PM

For more good reading check out Stan Hieronymus’s round-up from Monday and Alan McLeod’s from Thursday.

Every Saturday we round up the best writing about beer from the past week – even when we’re on holiday, apparently. This time, we’ve got UNESCO, green beer, and the absence of gammon at JDW.

First, a couple of related news stories: there are bids underway to secure UNESCO ‘intangible cultural heritage’ listings for both British cask ale and Czech beer culture. Belgian beer culture was listed in 2016, so there is precedent.

In practice, what does a listing mean? As far as we can tell, it’s mostly about awareness, and supporting further campaigning. It puts preassure on politicians to step up and protect listed cultural assets or, at the very least, not to be seen to be vandalising them. It’s about saying: “These things matter to the world, and you are being watched.”

At IrishBeerHistory Liam K has been exploring the strange history of Green Beer, which was briefly fashionable in London in the 1930s. As in, beer that was artificially coloured a “strong and clear green”:

One of the earliest mentions of this new beverage is The Yorkshire Post & Leeds Intelligencer in late October 1930… “As to the green beer, I have heard many descriptions of its peculiar and individual flavour, but to me it tasted just like any other sort of beer in spite of its lurid emerald colour. Brewed in Scotland, it is at present the monopoly of the proprietors of a restaurant in Bury Street, who ‘invented’ it…” Hardly a glowing or detailed review but it shows that it had certainly been around for a short while at this point, and a week or so later this new concoction appeared in the society pages of the London Weekly Dispatch when the author Arnold Bennett was seen “drinking the newest drink of all in a Bury Street restaurant – green beer”. The author, one John Grosvenor, goes on to state that the beverage “looks like particularly clear crème de menthe, and tastes like – beer, good beer.”

Anyone who has made beer part of their lifestyle and, dare we say, identity will read Vincent Raison’s piece for Pellicle with a sense of recognition – and perhaps unease. He’s been told to cut down on booze by his doctor but, to cut a long story short, doesn’t want to. He likes beer, and likes being in the pub, and is in the process of attempting to reengineer his lifestyle and habits:

The doctor gently suggested some lifestyle changes. More (or some) exercise. Improved diet. The usual stuff. Then she proposed I take three consecutive days off alcohol a week to avoid gout attacks and otherwise unnecessary medication… I have friends who have gone sober and are very happy about it, but that’s not for me, despite their increased vim and vigour. I needed a Third Way. A strategy for survival that still involves my beloved local pub… I began walking more, cutting down on delicious, empty carbohydrates and beautiful, calorific snacks. Fine. But the real challenge was not drinking from Monday to Wednesday.

The piece is also, somewhat incidentally, a portrait of a particular pub in South London, The Green Goddess, which sounds very much worth a visit.

The news that the Wetherspoon chain is tweaking its food menu might not seem, at first glance, to be especially interesting. For the Pub Curmudgeon, however, it highlights a fundamental feature of their business model: the willingness to adapt to market pressures to keep prices keen. In a lengthy post, he reflects on what makes Wetherspoon tick, and how it has risen to such prominence in British beer culture:

Wetherspoon’s have ended up reinventing the pub model from the ground up. The fundamental point is that the underlying cost assumptions of the pub trade should not be taken as fixed… This wasn’t something that was in place from the beginning. Tim Martin started out by converting former shops to offer something that most London pubs at the time didn’t – cask beer, food service, consistent opening hours and a comfortable, welcoming, unthreatening environment. In the early days, they weren’t markedly cheap compared with the competition. It wasn’t until the mid-90s that they started expanding outside their initial South-East base – the Moon Under Water in Manchester city centre opened in August 1995… But it is an approach that has evolved over time. Every aspect of the pub cost base has been challenged in the quest to make a lower margin viable.

Patreon supporters get bonus footnotes on these round-ups most weeks, with extra commentary and even more links. Do consider signing up.

A while ago, Jeff Alworth at Beervana came across an unusual imported version of Mexican Corona lager that was possibly more ‘authentic’, and certainly better tasting. But he struggled to pin down the story behind this strange variant. Now, further fascinating details have emerged:

The label listed Oz Trading Group of Hidalgo, Texas as the importer, which was an oddly bold move for, to quote the economist Stringer Bell, “a criminal [expletive] enterprise”…. [Now] we finally have some resolution to the mystery: Constellation and Modelo are suing Oz… According to the case against Oz, the charge is counterfeiting… And the suit directly identifies the Corona Mega scam: “While Oz Trading reportedly withdrew its applications for the infringing labels, the lawsuit contends that the company continues to market and sell products that bear the Modelo trademarks, misleading branding, and false advertising…”

Jeff’s follow up questions are good ones, too, such as: “Why was the counterfeit beer so much better than Corona?”

Here’s a fascinating thing: at Beer & Brewer Jake Brandish has done his best to come up with a brew-at-home recipe for a clone of low-alcohol Guinness… although the message really seems to be “Don’t bother.” As in, brewing low alcohol beer is a considerable technical challenge, and the improved quality of modern LA beer is something of a marvel of the age:

When it comes to home brewing no or ultra-low alcohol beers at home, there are some areas of major concern. Some of the main reasons beer has become such a safe and relatively stable product are the low pH levels and the presence of ethanol. Both factors will keep most spoilage organisms at bay – most! At some point we have all done a bad batch or had a few bad bottles. Am I right? Yes, I thought so. Imagine what would happen in your bottled beer (with a high amount of residual sugars) if there wasn’t ethanol, or very little, to assist in killing these spoilage organisms. There is, however, a way around the risk of having bottles explode for home brewers, but you must be prepared to pasteurise your beer once it is bottled. This will mean heating up your HLT or kettle to 68°C and place your bottled beer in it for a few minutes to achieve the minimum amount of PU (pasteurising units).

Finally, from BlueSky, a post that made us slightly homesick for the UK…

Just huffed and puffed up a massive Yorkshire hill – BUT there was a beautiful Yorkshire pub at the top of it

[image or embed]

— Will Hawkes (@willhawkes.bsky.social) April 9, 2025 at 9:04 PM

For more good reading check out Stan Hieronymus’s round-up from Monday and Alan McLeod’s from Thursday.