One of the joys about living in a permanent and singular location is that you can return to doing stuff that many take for granted.

Friday saw me meet up with fellow Norwich CAMRA members for the first time. My local branch organises what they call the ‘First Friday Five’ a trip around five pubs on the first Friday of every months. I thought I’d go along and see what they get up to. It was a pleasant evening, and I hope it will be the first of many. We ended up at a pub in the North East part of the city. A pub called The Cottage which last year was purchased and refurbished by Mauldons brewery. Despite being a Mauldons pub it proclaims on the sign to be a free house, the staff were all wearing Mauldons t-shirts so I guess they are not hiding their light under a bushel. Unfortunately by the time we got to this pub my mental faculties were slightly impaired so I can’t remember if they had eight or ten different beers, but there were three Mauldons beers Moletrap Mild, Silver Adder and Black Adder. The rest were and interesting mix from around East Anglia. I had a Mild from Waveney followed by Mauldons Black Adder. Both beers were spot on for taste and condition.

The pub itself has been done up in a very pleasing way. It’s not in a style so different from that of the Old Cannon Brewery in Bury St Edmunds, a pub Mauldons will be familiar with. I never went in the ‘old’ Cottage so I don’t know what it was like, but the new refurbished one is light, airy and sympathetically open planned. There’s a rather nice long wooden bar that greets you as you enter the establishment. It is a modern classic, to use a well worn oxymoron. There are a few quotes from the likes of WC Fields and Spike Milligan painted on the coving which I thought was a nice touch. It’s a nice clean pub. The ale reflected the surroundings by its perfect condition. Mauldons are on to a winner with this establishment! I’ve never been a gushing fan of Mauldons ale. Absolutely nothing wrong with it, just that I’ve always preferred the nectar from its close (geographically) rival Nethergate, but after Friday night’s experience I’m warming to them in a big way. The Cottage is a decent walk from where I now live so I won’t be tripping in their every five minutes but I shall return to it when I get the chance. It’s a pub not to be missed if you are ever in Norwich!

p.s. on checking the website it would appear they have ten handpumps

Food wise I had to fend for myself last night. The lady was out. Whilst I’m happy to cook it’s never much fun cooking for one. So I decided to take the easy option, a JDW burger, chips and beer. The only pub between the railway station and my home is a JDW. The ale I plumped for was Stonehenge Pigswill 4% a dark golden ale with subtle citrus and malt flavours, and not a hint of bitterness. It’s a strange topsy turvy world that a name like ‘Pigswill’ won't put people off ordering it when it is a beer, yet put that name on a convenience meal in a supermarket and I suspect it would stay on the shelves.

Still bemoaning the lack of dark beer I knew exactly where to head. A pint of Batemans DM 3.0%, a brilliant mild with malt, Demerara sugar aand slight hints of hessian. This was followed by Batemans Salem Porter 4.7%, a slightly more bitter brew with hints of cough mixture and malty liquorice toffee. Mission accomplished!

#ukpubs
#norfolk

Yesterday we had cause to visit Brundall, a village located on the River Yare, six miles out of Norwich in the direction of Great Yarmouth. It was not long after midday when we concluded our matters in hand, so we decided to call in at a pub called The Yare for a spot of luncheon. Situated between a large boatyard for the filthy rich and one of Brundall’s two stations it looked an ideal spot for a middle of the day meal. How wrong we were!

We should have been put off by the frosty reception we received from the charmless nurk of a bar-steward. A ratty man who gave the impression that everything was too much trouble. But we ploughed on. There was a choice of three cask ales: Woodfordes Wherry, Greene King Abbot and Brains SA. I chose the Brains. The lady, a tea fanatic, ordered a cup of tea. For lunch we both ordered what we thought was a safe option, namely fish and chips.

The Yare has an idiosyncratic decor of yokel and boating artefacts. Interestingly the ceiling is covered with woven willow fencing. It probably seemed like a good idea at the time. The furniture was 1970s/1980s wood and velour. Nice! Sadly the addition plastic table cloths didn’t exactly enhance the dining experience. Greasy spoon chic is just so last year!

The ale was acceptable, but that is all I can say about it. The fish and chips were just acceptable but bland in the extreme. The whole experience was a lesson in how to run a pub if you can’t really be bothered. This pub is absolutely fucking useless and I urge you, if you are ever in the area, to make a point of avoiding it.

I think what put the tin lid on the whole debacle was this plaque on the wall that I noticed as I was leaving:

A sign of excellence my arse!

The Yare is a decent sized pub in a decent location, but the people running it don’t deserve to be in business. I shall not be in a hurry to return.

I’m a fickle old bugger. I like golden ales, and have done since those early Exmoor Gold and Tanglefoot days, but it is starting to feel as if they are far too prevalent. Can you have too much of a good thing? Yes you can when it’s at the expense of other good stuff. In so many pubs now the choice seems to be narrowing. Plenty of different pump clips with those oh so jocular beer names, but when you analyse the situation what you invariably end up with is brown bitter or golden ales. I know it is hard for some pubs to shift certain styles of beer, and that golden ales are popular, but if all that is on offer is brown or gold how is a new audience going to appreciate other beer styles. Even brewers have a hand in this when they produce seasonal ales for the cooler months that are oh so often golden.

I realise this is all a bit déjà vu bemoaning the lack of dark beers, but as much as I love them I am concerned that golden ales are rapidly becoming the grey squirrel of the cask world.

If you look closely at the hairs on my head you will probably find the odd grey strand. But if you look a bit harder you will also notice red hairs in the blend. The red is a bit more apparent in my facial fauna. Scottish blood runs through my veins, albeit well diluted with the Sassenach. My maternal grandmother was a Scot and my grandfather, although a Geordie had Scottish antecedence. As a consequence I feel a certain affinity with our northern brethren.

By nature I’m a lazy bastard. I try and fight it, but all too often it comes to the fore. I’ve never understood why, until now that is. It must be in my genes. The tartan ones that is. It would appear that a Scottish week is only six days long, rather than the traditional seven. I suspect they just don’t bother getting out of bed for the seventh. I can sense that this new learning is amazing you, and that you are wondering how this knowledge was revealed. Well, apparently today is the last day of Burns Week. Ever heard of Burns Week? Me neither. Burns night, yes, but Burns Week? It started last Wednesday and ends tonight, Burns Night. Well it did according to Wetherspoon’s.

Last night, looking for a quick meal before going to the pictures, we called in at The Glasshouse, Norwich. Given that we were in ‘Burns Week’ I thought I would give the haggis, neeps and tatties a go. I was pleased I did, because it was good grub. The haggis was more peppery than many I’ve had, but no bad thing in my book, and both the mashed potato and the swede were pureed to perfection. An ideal meal for a pensioner that might have come out without their teeth, and with a pensioner’s price tag of £3.99, which included a pint, seemed like a bargain not to be missed. The beer I chose was Ammonite, a golden ale, from that well known Scottish Highland region of Dorset. I was disappointed that there was no Scottish beer available, even Deuchars IPA would have been welcome, but the Ammonite with its characteristic West Country sweet and straw flavours complimented my meal perfectly.

Now then, do you think I can get away with not going to work tomorrow (Tuesday) on the grounds that I’m part Scottish?

I left home this morning full of anticipation and bound for the 14th Cambridge Winter Beer Festival. Whilst I had no plans to emulate L.E.G Oates I fully intended to be gone a fair while. On the train journey going I had the misfortune of sitting just behind four women, at a guess two in their twenties and two in their late forties or early fifties, mothers and daughters I suspect, who were making an away day of it by lashing into extremely cheap wine. The younger two swigged direct from full size bottles whilst the mature ladies at least had the decency to use plastic cups. It was a long journey even though the train was on time.

I arrived at the lunchtime session not long after it opened, met up with a friend who’d arrived a few minutes before me . We both agreed that what beer was left didn’t really amount to much, and not many of them were what I would call winter beers. I had two amber/golden bitters from the Northumberland Brewery that impressed me it must be said. Fog On The Tyne and Sheepdog Bitter were their names. 4.1% and 4.7% respectively, were their strengths. They were both luscious, straw-hop lightly bitter beers. I had the last half pint of Fog On The Tyne, but you would never have known.

Due to the lack of choice at the festival we decided that we would head off to a rather decent real ale pub towards the station, the Live and Let Live, a freehouse of some note. We arrived just in time to order a pint just before last orders were called. Last orders on a Saturday lunchtime? What is going on? I don’t think that the half a dozen or more other beer festival type souls that wandered in after the towels went up could believe it either. Whilst I respect the right of publicans to decide on their opening hours I do think they missed a trick. They are a cask driven pub offering around eight different beers of good quality. I would have thought that they would have realised that beer hunters would come a knocking at their door during a beer festival. But seemingly not! So one pint later we were on our way back to the station and an early return home. Not really the stuff of daring do I fear!

It’s coming up to that time of year again when I start to whinge about CAMRA’s mild month and how it should be March. I hopefully won’t bore you shitless by banging on about it too much on this blog. This is just a reminder. I’ll just point you in this direction.

Anyone know what has happened to John o’ the Random Ramblings?
His last post was entitled something along the lines of Throwing In The Towel which I took just to mean a reference to his CAMRA membership, but his blog has disappeared as well.

We appear to find ourselves in a season where a few long standing bloggers are calling it a day. I suppose it makes room for the large number of new beer blogs that keep on coming. On this subject I’ve just updated my links section on the right of this blog. If I’ve made any errors, missed anyone off that feels they would like a link or if I’ve given you a link and you don’t really want one then please let me know.

I like Friday nights in a pub. People are full of expectation. For most of us the working week is over and to whatever degree we feel comfortable with we relax, let our metaphorical hair down and look forward to the joy that is the weekend. Guess what? I’ve just been to the pub.

The other night I had three very nice pints of Nethergate Cross Border a four point something fine example of the golden ale genre. The following day it dawned on me that here we were in the middle of winter, snow on the ground, and I’m drinking what I consider to be a summer ale. I’m going to rectify that I thought. Tonight I lashed into Batemans Dark Mild 3%, a rounded mild with a warm hessian feel like smoking finest ready rubbed sack. Next a pint of Beeston Stirling 4.5% a dark roasted chestnut coloured brew, packed with malt, cold tea and toasted wood shavings. Delicious! If Brooke Bond made a beer this would be the one. Hints of caramel linger and mingle with the toast of the after taste.

I think my assignment for the weekend is to seek out more good dark ale.

To be fair, in most decent drinking pubs product knowledge usually isn’t an issue. But I do hate it when you enquire of the charming person behind the bar as to the nature and style of a particular cask ale they have in their portfolio and they haven’t got a clue. The quick thinking ones will offer you a taster, but most won’t. So I was quite pleased to see this piece on the Morning Advertiser’s site, “Officially the pub trades favourite”, by Tony Jennings chief executive of Budvar UK. In ‘Educated barstaff make great salesmen’ Tony says, “You can’t beat an educated bar team for improving beer sales. I’ve proved that proposition again and again, but I am so often surprised to discover how little barstaff seem to know about the brews they are selling.” You are too right Tony. This might be a bit of stating the bleedin’ obvious but having serving staff that know what they are selling is bound to lead to customer satisfaction, and hence more sales. Let’s hope some people in the trade take note.

Tony Jennings

The title of this posting is a quote from a brilliant Million Pound Radio Show sketch, which you can listen to here. I defy you not to let it make you laugh.

Don’t you just love Microsoft Windows Mail (or whatever incarnation you use)? I’ve just discovered an email from Douglas Graham of Ayr Brewing Company, dated 16/12/09, safely tucked away in my ‘junk’ folder. So, my apologies to Douglas and you dear readers for this somewhat delayed ‘news’, but hopefully better late than never:

The Ayr Brewing company based in The Glenpark Hotel Ayr commenced brewing in October using a five barrel plant and are now selling two real ales in the hotel. The two ales are Leezie Lundie abv 3.8% and Jolly Beggars abv 4.2%. All the beers get their names from works of the famous local poet Robert Burns. The official launch night of the brewery was held on the second of November. Around sixty invited guests were present at an excellent evening with both their beers available namely Jolly Beggars and Leezie Lundie which were both in excellent condition.

During the evening Paul one of the brewers gave a very informative tour of the brewery. The brewery is now supplying The Malt Cross in Ayr. Three outlets in Glasgow namely The Three Judges, The Bon Accord and The State Bar as well as two outlets in Edinburgh and one in the Wigtownshire area. Wetherspoons could possibly be next on the list to take their beer but this has still to be confirmed. All is looking good for the first brewery in Ayr for a number of years.

The brewery has reached its first significant land mark at the end of November when the 10,000 pint was brewed.

As I sit here ready and commenting on other blogs I’m enjoying this dark ale that I bought for myself for Christmas but have only just got around to drinking. Christmas Ale @ 6.2% and brewed for Marks & Spencer by the Cropton Brewery is a dark brown come reddish affair, flavoured with cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, star anise and “the festive tang of citrus fruits”. Despite all that it tastes pretty good and just the job for a cold winter’s evening. The spices sit subtly in the background of this predominantly malt driven real ale.

It would seem damned near impossible to have an informed and reasoned debate about the problems of alcohol in this country. Impossible because the arguments appear polarised between the health-puritans on one side and the conspiracy-theory-freedom-to-drink-oneself-to-death-brigade on the other, whilst the silent majority sit dumb fat and happy with their pint/glass in the middle wondering why moderation isn’t the order of the day.

Yesterday, as reported in The Guardian, the health select committee published a long awaited report in which they chastise the government for virtually ignoring Britain's "shocking" rise in binge drinking and alcoholism. Saying that government policies have ranged from "the non-existent to the ineffectual". Those whose main focus is the health of the nation and the cost of providing health care to all are clearly worried, and I suspect with good reason. Whilst data and statistics on the extent of the problem often seem fuzzy and/or contradictory, only a fool would stick their head in the sand, ostrich like, and deny that there is a problem. There is a problem, and you only have to venture out into any urban environment on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday night to see it. No it’s not just youthful high spirits, late in the night and into the early hours there are large numbers of people seriously bladdered. Early in the evening you see them congregating in groups, at selected pubs and bars, preparing for the off with shots, alcopops, cheap wine and occasionally pints of Euro-fizz, getting as much ‘cheap’ booze down their necks in as short a space of time as they can. Of course in many respects this isn’t a new phenomenon, we’ve been here before. The Victorian gin palace culture is a prime example. But what is to be done?

I don’t have any answers I’m afraid. But no caring and compassionate individual with a conscience can advocate that we ignore it in the hope that it will go away. Thousands are doing themselves serious harm and the only thing I can think of is education. In reality ‘cheep’ booze isn’t cheap at all, it just happens to be ‘subsidised’ by us tax payers funding the NHS. Don’t get me wrong, I do not favour raising taxes on alcohol or having minimum price levels, but I do think the latter is a strong possibility. Governments of either persuasion are only ever interested in one way of dealing with problems. That’s with expediency, and as little cost as possible. I fear the days of ‘cheap’ alcohol are numbered.

It’s probably my age but I really don't understand what all the fuss is about with the weather. I hate the cold but apart from that I just get on with it. I walk and take public transport instead of getting in the car, otherwise life goes on. Every so often we have a bad winter. So, Mr Media what is your point? Having said that one thing that this weather does highlight is the importance of the local. Unless you are unfortunate enough to live in an area that is ‘dry’, having a place to walk to for a drink is a just wonderful. All too often the pub is taken for granted and it would be so easy to just to snuggle up in the comfort of your own home with the bottle of supermarket hop sauce, but it just isn’t the same. Tonight there was a warm welcome and a pint of Rudgate Ruby Mild to keep my proverbial cockles at optimum temperature. This was followed by Batemans XXXB. When it’s bitter out I want something robust and malty in. So all you namby pamby fair weather pubbers get off your arses and get down to your hostelry of choice!

It’s a cruel irony that an establishment that is fast becoming Bury St Edmunds’ premier real ale pub is only ten minutes walk from where I used to live. The Dove, in Hospital Road, is a pub that I have frequented on and off most of my drinking life. It has always been a Greene King pub, up until recently that is. It is now a free house offering six real ales. Bloody fantastic!

This pub is a ‘wet only’ affair. No food, unless you want a packet of crisps that is. The opening hours are restricted; opening lunchtimes and evenings of a weekend, and then evenings only during the week. The landlord told us that he is concentrating on East Anglian beers so that he can deal direct with brewers which seems like a jolly good thing to be doing. He is restricted from dealing with certain bigger breweries apparently. This is due to a stipulation by Greene King. But I wouldn’t have thought that was a problem, and it certainly didn’t appear to be yesterday lunchtime. I met a friend there. We arrived just before opening time. There were five of us waiting. We stayed for most of the lunchtime session and there was a steady stream of customers coming and going, with the pub being respectably full much of the time. Lots of familiar faces along with others I knew. The quality of the beer was most excellent so this pub deserves to do well, and I think it will. It just goes to show that in the right area a wet only pub with well kept beer can draw a crowd.