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Beer history Beer styles marketing

No Marketing Budget in Post-war Devon

Pale "A" Ale -- the Best Bitter in the West of England -- Brewed only by the Plymouth Breweries Ltd.
We found the above on the flyleaf of a The Homeland Guide to Dartmoor (undated but c.1947). It’s hard to imagine a plainer advertisement or, indeed, a plainer name for a flagship product. Post-war austerity and all that, we suppose.

On a related note, we also know from our recent nosing in their brewing records that, for the duration of World War II, St Austell produced nothing but “PA” (pale ale).

It must have been hard to get anything but bitter in the West Country in the 1940s.

 

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Beer styles london

Memorable Beers #13 — …and Back to Lager

Not longer after we’d decided to ditch Foster’s in favour of real ale, we had our minds blown for a second time when we rediscovered lager at a friend’s birthday party at the Greenwich Union, the brewery tap for Meantime.

We were surprised to realise that, within that catch-all category, there were sub-types and variations we’d never dreamed of: at that time, the Union was selling Kölsch, ‘Golden’ and Pils. All three looked similar, but tasted different. Not wanting to look too geeky, we whispered to each other — “This one’s more… it’s got more… it tastes…” — but didn’t really have the vocabulary to express what we were experiencing.

We liked Golden Lager the best and we came back later that month to drink it again. They no longer make it but, even now, when we taste a certain kind of “double malt” European beer, like Estrella Voll Damm, GL is the reference point we return to.

The important lesson for us, we suppose, was that Real Ale Good/Lager Bad is a stupid over-simplification.

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Beer styles real ale

Our White Whale was a Black Beer

Pump clip design for Penzance Brewing's Scilly Stout

When we first visited the Star Inn last year, we saw that Penzance Brewing Company’s Scilly Stout, made in the on-site brewery, was listed on the blackboard as coming “dreckly”. We now know that “dreckly” is an elastic concept meaning “at some point in the future”, but it actually took us nearly a year to track it down.

We kept arriving at the pub to find that Scilly Stout had just finished, or was due on in the next few days. We began to suspect it was a cruel joke played on tourists, along the lines of Porthemmet. “Have you tried it yet?” people kept asking. “Bah,” we replied.

Then, as spring approached, we were delighted to finally find it at Bodmin Beer Festival. Since then, as if a spell was broken, we’ve found it on sale at the pub every time we’ve visited.

The Star usually gives us what we’ve always asked for — one of each colour, please! Potion 9 is golden and 4%; the two bitters have brown covered; and Scilly Stout, when it’s there, offers not only darkness, but strength, at 7%. If you liked Fuller’s Past Master’s Double Stout, you’ll probably enjoy Scilly, too: it’s got an acid snap and a body that proves you don’t need nitrogen to make a beer chewable.

If you’re on holiday in this part of Cornwall, do visit the Star. Just don’t count on finding Scilly Stout on sale — it’ll probably be coming dreckly.

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Beer styles london

Memorable Beers #6: Guinness FES

When we host a party, we’re always delighted to open the door and have a plastic bag thrust at us: “We know you like beer so we brought a few interesting things we picked up.”

We have a very vivid memory of the end of a party some time in around 2005. Everyone had gone and music was playing into an empty front room strewn with empty beer cans and paper plates. We slumped onto the sofa, slightly exhausted and a little tipsy, and decided to split one more beer before tidying up. We reached for a bag of beers a friend had brought, harvested from the corner shops of Walthamstow.

The bottle that came to hand was Dublin-brewed Guinness Foreign Extra Stout. Being snotty about Guinness, we didn’t expect much except a nastier, boozier version of the stout we occasionally drank in an emergency in the pub.

The aroma, like smelling salts, snapped us out of our post-party drowsing: jaded as were our palates, it poked its way through. It tasted, we both agreed, like a delicious pudding. (We were enjoying, not taking notes, so that’s where the insight ended.)

Why do we remember this particular moment so vividly? Perhaps because of the shock of having our prejudices overturned.

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Beer history Beer styles

Beer Labels are not History Lessons

We’ve talked before about how certain beer descriptors have more than one equally correct meaning depending on context. Most recently, the issue arose again in a conversation about old ale and barley wine.

Those two styles, says Martyn Cornell, are not all that easily distinguished. One contributor thought he’d cracked it, however, when he pointed out that Adnams Old Ale (dark, 4.1%) bears no resemblance whatsoever to, say, Fuller’s Golden Pride (dark amber, 8.5%).

The problem is that Adnams Old Ale is the exact opposite: a mild.

Brewers can call their beers whatever they like. What’s written on the label or pumpclip of a beer today is rarely any help in understanding a beer bearing the same descriptor a hundred years ago. In fact, they can be downright confusing.

Historical (19th c.) Common understanding (what it’s come to mean) US homebrew judging guidance
Old Ale
The aged version of a beer also sold fresh (mild). Possibly strong, but not necessarily (see above): something a bit special; “warming”. Sherry/port flavours, usually dark, 6-9% abv.