News, Nuggets & Longreads 14 July 2018: Cain’s, Keptinis, Craeft

Here’s all the reading about beer and pubs that inspired us to hit the BOOKMARK button in the past week, from pubs to hazy IPAs.

But let’s start with some items of news.


Illustration: intimidating pub.

For Orig­i­nal Grav­i­ty Emma Inch has writ­ten about the feel­ing of being on edge in pubs, even if noth­ing con­crete hap­pens, because of a sense that peo­ple are just a lit­tle too aware of “what makes you dif­fer­ent”:

Through­out my drink­ing life I’ve been asked to leave a pub on the grounds that it’s a ‘fam­i­ly friend­ly venue’; I’ve wit­nessed a friend being eject­ed for giv­ing his male part­ner a dry peck on the cheek; I’ve had a fel­low cus­tomer shout homo­pho­bic abuse in my ear whilst the bar­tender calm­ly con­tin­ued to ask me to pay for my pint… Once, I had to shield my face from fly­ing glass as the pub win­dows were kicked in by big­ots out­side, and I still remem­ber the sharp, breath­less fear in the days fol­low­ing the Admi­ral Dun­can pub bomb­ing, not know­ing if it was all over, or who and where would be tar­get­ed next.

Con­tin­ue read­ing “News, Nuggets & Lon­greads 14 July 2018: Cain’s, Kep­ti­nis, Craeft”

Fourpure Pils

Fourpure Pils -- can and glass.

As lager lovers, we’re always keen to try British brewers’ attempts, especially when we’ve heard good things about them from fellow beer geeks.

Bermond­sey Beer Mile brew­ery Four­pure’s Pils has gen­er­at­ed plen­ty of atten­tion, part­ly because it comes in that most con­tentious of con­tain­ers, a 330ml can.

Trust­ing our peers, rather than dab­bling with one or two, we includ­ed half a dozen (@ £1.95 each, plus P&P) in our last order from Beer Mer­chants, placed at the height of the recent heat wave when we were crav­ing things cold and refresh­ing.

At first, we were a lit­tle dis­ap­point­ed: com­pared to the cans of St Austell Korev we had picked up from the local CO-OP (@ about £1.10 each) Four­pure Pils seemed rather rough-edged. Last night, how­ev­er, hav­ing emp­tied the last two cans and crushed them against our fore­heads with a roar (obvi­ous­ly not) we con­clud­ed that it was good stuff after all.

It is, for one thing, far from bland: by the stan­dards of most beers call­ing them­selves Pils, it has a pro­nounced wild-flower, black­cur­rant, sting­ing net­tle hop aro­ma, back up by a robust, parch­ing bit­ter­ness.

The hint of rough­ness remained in evi­dence, how­ev­er – some­where in the brew­ing and pack­ag­ing process, we’d guess there is oxy­gen where there should­n’t be, lead­ing to a per­sis­tent stale, papery note in the back­ground. It’s much, much clean­er than our home-brewed lager (plas­tic buck­et, no tem­per­a­ture con­trol) but there are sim­i­lar­i­ties.

Depend­ing on your tastes, though, this might read as that much-desired qual­i­ty – ‘char­ac­ter’.

We could­n’t resist one final exper­i­ment – would it taste dif­fer­ent necked straight from the can? Side-by-side with a serv­ing in a fan­cy stemmed tast­ing glass, we not­ed to our sur­prise that despite this prac­ti­cal issue…

…the aro­ma was actu­al­ly far bet­ter, con­cen­trat­ed through the tiny aper­ture into a nee­dle of bright hop­pi­ness right up the nos­trils. From a glass, though still punchy, aro­ma, flavour and bit­ter­ness all seemed gen­er­al­ly gen­tler.

In con­clu­sion, we’d buy Four­pure Pils again, and look for­ward to try­ing it on tap when we get the chance.