Categories
Beer history

Growing Hops in Cornwall

We had somehow formed the impression that Cornwall isn’t natural beer country, in large part because hops aren’t grown here. Because of an article we are working on, however, we needed to know for sure whether hops were commonly available in the 18th and 19th centuries, and so got digging.

In the stacks at the Cornish Studies Library in Redruth a helpful archivist (herself from Kent and dubious about the idea of hops in Cornwall) directed us to an 1811 book called A General View of the Agriculture of the Country of Cornwall by G.B. Worgan, written on behalf of the Board of Agriculture. And what do you know — it lists hops as a substantial Cornish crop.

HOPS… Have been much grown in Roseland, but the culture is on the decline: the duties increasing, and hops from Kent and Hampshire finding their way here, the Cornish hop-grower is discouraged; for except he can sell at 15d. per lb. it is a losing crop.

The author goes on to observe that growing hops in Cornwall is expensive, uses up a lot of the best manure, that the local soil produces a meagre yield, and that hops grown here are prone to mildew.

An 1839 report by the Statistical Society noted the availability of hops as far West as Penzance based on a clergyman’s accounts books covering the period from 1746 to 1770; they sold at around 1 shilling per pound — a touch more expensive than sugar.

Another helpful book, Lynda Mudle-Small’s What the Ancestors Drank (in Warleggan), compiles various bits of evidence for the cultivation of hops in Cornwall from 1595 onwards, and of the growing of barley for malting from the 15th century.

So, if not exactly natural beer country, Cornwall has certainly been trying its damnedest for a good few centuries.

Categories
Beer history breweries london

Historic Beers for London

Ron Pattinson and Peter Haydon (Head in a Hat/Florence Brewery) are going to collaborate to produce around six historic beers a year, branded as Dapper Ales.

Their first beer will be ‘Doctor Brown’, a 4.1% ABV double brown ale from a 1928 Barclay Perkins recipe.

Ron’s knowledge of the nuts-and-bolts of historic beer is second to none. We don’t know Peter Haydon personally but we’ve enjoyed the couple of Head in a Hat beers we’ve tried in the past, and know that he’s also paid his dues digging in the archives.

It’s no surprise, that, that their statement is refreshingly and reassuringly free of ‘inspired by history’ weasel words:

Peter has attempted to recreate the beer as faithfully as possible, going back to original boil times, and parti-gyling the wort streams. The original hops used were Pacifics, Bramling, Fuggles and Golding, and care has been taken to get as close as possible to this original bill. American Cluster are what would have been meant by Pacifics, so non-English hops make a rare appearance in an A Head In A Hat beer. The Bramling is no longer grown due to its disease susceptibility, but it’s daughter, Early Gold, is, so that has been used instead.

Doctor Brown will be on sale in selected Fuller’s pubs in March.

Categories
Beer history homebrewing

The Temperance Spectrum

Triggering tipsiness is one much-valued feature of beer, but not the be-all-and-end-all.

A first, beer and ale were thought preferable to gin because gin made you bad at holding babies, while on beer, you could simultaneously catch up on some reading, spend quality time with your other half, and balance fish on your head:

Details from 'Gin Lane' and 'Beer Street' by William Hogarth.

Then, in the 19th century, people got excited about lager because there was a belief that, unlike British beer, it didn’t really get you drunk, or make you rowdy.

Categories
Beer history

Devilled Ale

Researching something completely different, we came across this recipe for devilled ale in an 1855 household management guide:

1855 devilled ale recipe.

How could we resist giving that a go?

For our base beer, we used the latest Fuller’s Past Masters 1914 Strong X. We found it very sweet in its own right, so figured it wouldn’t become too acrid when warmed, and it certainly sits squarely in the ale tradition, being more about malt than hops.

Buttered, spiced toast rounds.For the sake of completeness, in case, for some reason, you want to exactly replicate our approach, the bread was 7% rye flour, and the butter was salted. We used ground ginger.

With the ale warmed, and the toast buttered and spiced, we put it all together in Ye Olde Halfe-Pinte Pottes, and got stuck in.

Things we liked: the toast floating on the surface smelled like grains mashing on brew-day; the cayenne gave a really pleasant kick which accentuated the spirituous booziness of the ale; the ritual was fun; and, on a cold night, a mug of warm ale sits nicely in the hands.

Things we didn’t: even this rather sugary beer was too bitter when warm; it got cold quickly, and lukewarm ale is no fun at all.

If we do this again — we probably won’t — it will be with the most sickly sweet ale we can find, and we’ll warm the cups properly first. We’ll also use more ginger, which got rather drowned out by the cayenne, or maybe even use finely chopped fresh ginger, or the stuff that comes preserved and sweetened in jars.

If you try it at home, let us know how you get on.

Categories
beer festivals Beer history

Champion Beer of Britain: Origins

We’re researching an article which has given us an excuse to chat to several Campaign for Real Ale veterans.

One of them, Anthony Gibson, was a press officer by trade and, through his London CAMRA branch, got involved in publicity for the Campaign in the 1970s. He told us this story as an aside:

I think it was the first or second day of the Great British Beer Festival at Alexandra Palace [in 1978]. We were all in the staff room trying to work out how to get more publicity – it was going well, but we needed a big crowd to make it viable. We’d already done things like stage a procession of brewers’ drays. Then I was walking back from the loo when I thought, why don’t we organise a competition? Let’s find out which is the favourite beer of all the people drinking here today.

The way we did was that I put together a short-list by asking people working on the bars which were their best-sellers. Then I went round and approached ‘specially selected’ members of the audience and got them up on stage to blind taste the beers on the short-list, which were organised into categories. We didn’t have specialist judges – just ordinary punters. We compered it and made a spectacle of it and it was very successful.

Within an hour of having the idea, I had a press release out. It was the start of something which is still going today.

The joint winners were Thwaites’s Dark Mild and Fuller’s ESB.

It’s funny to think that, these days, in the wake of the inevitably outrage-inducing result of the Champion Beer of Britain competition at GBBF, people crawl all over the process looking for evidence of impropriety, incompetence or bias. In 1978, they’d have had a field day.