tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45070883834706539292024-03-14T02:22:57.705-07:00Present Tense Fine AlesPresent Tense is an aspiring brewery in Chicago looking to bring English style cask ales to those that call Chicago home.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-38329681510784630192016-01-22T09:58:00.002-08:002016-01-22T09:58:44.835-08:00The End<div class="MsoNormal">
I returned to Harrogate
after my whirlwind tour and started back at Roosters. With only a week
and a half left in the UK, it didn’t take long to return to the familiar
routine - up at 4:30am, Skype with my girlfriend at 5am, picked up at 6:20am to
get to the brewery around 6:30am, then a full day of cask filling, cask
cleaning, and other tasks at Roosters, returning back home around 4pm to fill
the rest of my day with whatever came up. It was nice to get back into
the routine, and the guys at the brewery generously welcomed me back.<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEtIpbzuxsh5PDQPa-4iymdSb_Qq0Rn1P6zEEeExRegxj_TZC3gMfZO0Iag3j91myTDRd3UF7bXEsevs8HLurLZtr8czqGLkXpFGPQqB75hKihhl1yM7dLb_8D8cJ6kdnlgepiLZl5fsT/s1600/IMG_20151116_100829018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEtIpbzuxsh5PDQPa-4iymdSb_Qq0Rn1P6zEEeExRegxj_TZC3gMfZO0Iag3j91myTDRd3UF7bXEsevs8HLurLZtr8czqGLkXpFGPQqB75hKihhl1yM7dLb_8D8cJ6kdnlgepiLZl5fsT/s320/IMG_20151116_100829018.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Back at Roosters.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With the time remaining,
venturing out and exploring more of the UK was not out of question from a
logistical perspective, but as far as I was concerned my travels had come an
end and I just wanted to make the most of the place that I had called home for
the past 3 months - Harrogate. I needed to pay my final respects to the
local establishments that had become my drinking spots - Old Bell, Swan on the
Stray, and Harrogate Tap. Also, from my visits to other breweries around
the UK, I had collected my fair share of beer and there was no way that I was
going to be able to fit them all in my luggage, so I had to invest a little
time sampling the spoils of my journeys. Finally, Oliver had expressed
interest in spending some time with me before I left, so I was perfectly
content letting my last few days in the UK slip away in Harrogate - one last
fish and chips dinner, one last pork pie, one last Roast dinner and Yorkshire
Pudding, a day of Harrogate Town football and drinking, a short excursion to
Leeds to do some Christmas shopping, one last trip to Farrah’s to pick up some
gifts from Harrogate, and some evenings of just catching up and collecting my
thoughts on the things I had experienced in the UK.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQwJfgJkMNb4UWTaoTyRqp3r33Y5_qsFheFG90QmnvWyL7GMEqS_DrIuFDMMh7gyaDtFQ3AwY_Ue4XTleYAV4y351CtojsonFwJ7nNLI_A8TiVDi4DInDOZaxe9K7ufcv5kV2484NrEX-/s1600/IMG_20151221_194538845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxQwJfgJkMNb4UWTaoTyRqp3r33Y5_qsFheFG90QmnvWyL7GMEqS_DrIuFDMMh7gyaDtFQ3AwY_Ue4XTleYAV4y351CtojsonFwJ7nNLI_A8TiVDi4DInDOZaxe9K7ufcv5kV2484NrEX-/s320/IMG_20151221_194538845.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last fish and chips dinner - Old Bell, Harrogate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CovcOzAFoBtFtTTde3stoKMOSR0XS2WE2jJvXlDv0uoL-BfU_9CP3Snm7__Sp_R5_DJKVR1dGIDNt1L5i4ZBIYT-WYvV0t0658DmS-FyeLP-NbMstu1Aaj7kMQD7oExn063BiSnJcoaZ/s1600/IMG_20151223_163723010_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1CovcOzAFoBtFtTTde3stoKMOSR0XS2WE2jJvXlDv0uoL-BfU_9CP3Snm7__Sp_R5_DJKVR1dGIDNt1L5i4ZBIYT-WYvV0t0658DmS-FyeLP-NbMstu1Aaj7kMQD7oExn063BiSnJcoaZ/s320/IMG_20151223_163723010_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roosters crew.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnLExH5P-C6s_TBBpzINOfOTN1NQcdP4ybJjo3YBI633P0tYltKeZjKH2LF7J2NFzZwyuUsT1-XD4GiFgAILETqn4-WevNGFqsQAvrOlcYj5VMdxZ36A4oJH626S-LzSqaGpOi-4kmCJA/s1600/IMG_20151220_145253839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnLExH5P-C6s_TBBpzINOfOTN1NQcdP4ybJjo3YBI633P0tYltKeZjKH2LF7J2NFzZwyuUsT1-XD4GiFgAILETqn4-WevNGFqsQAvrOlcYj5VMdxZ36A4oJH626S-LzSqaGpOi-4kmCJA/s320/IMG_20151220_145253839.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last roast dinner - Lamb & Flag, Leeds.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLvG9OLR_V6H-Qwrcqdqmrpu99GimyP3QRuc6kFIcYZ2RKZBRbD8ixUOracM44xD6zMuoNslH0efJ6OjGCwJ_gGkRaWSflWyGcE1mDtRPL2gMNh-h_SQ5frwixUe1u7dDu3B7RZyP4nZl/s1600/IMG_20151219_153433446.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDLvG9OLR_V6H-Qwrcqdqmrpu99GimyP3QRuc6kFIcYZ2RKZBRbD8ixUOracM44xD6zMuoNslH0efJ6OjGCwJ_gGkRaWSflWyGcE1mDtRPL2gMNh-h_SQ5frwixUe1u7dDu3B7RZyP4nZl/s320/IMG_20151219_153433446.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harrogate Town football match.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the greatest
highlights of my entire trip happened on the Thursday after I returned to
Harrogate. About a month earlier, Oliver and I had brewed a beer on the
trial plant at Roosters - it was, in its most honest sense, a collaboration
between Oliver and myself. I had picked the style, an ESB, and had come
up with a recipe for the beer. After a few iterations of the recipe and
some technical discussions with Oliver on what I wanted the beer to be, we
settled on a very traditional malt profile and hop schedule featuring only
English hops. The brew day went flawlessly thanks to Oliver who showed me
the ropes on the well-worn, but trusty system. The iconic Fuller’s yeast
worked its magic on the wort and after a week in the fermenter we sampled the
beer and were more than pleased with the results - a medium bodied, perfectly
balanced ESB bursting with well-rounded bitterness, ripe fruit sweetness, and
very apparent, honest yeast character. We filled one cask and twelve
660mL bottles with the delightful beer and Oliver made arrangements to release
the beer at an event at Major Tom’s in Harrogate.<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8GbMsEf5pFD97h1px8E3B7KMD2DyzSd7zLzIKP2RWHZ65MtKtV2-lKkX95Cd0p8ho__rLSWlUv5aEnQnOwU_6-XWQZDTgjoX1d2Q452O84Ix2-jzlJ_uWKsajiQ28NgeBZ7pU20ZjdmAf/s1600/IMG_20151217_193603484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8GbMsEf5pFD97h1px8E3B7KMD2DyzSd7zLzIKP2RWHZ65MtKtV2-lKkX95Cd0p8ho__rLSWlUv5aEnQnOwU_6-XWQZDTgjoX1d2Q452O84Ix2-jzlJ_uWKsajiQ28NgeBZ7pU20ZjdmAf/s320/IMG_20151217_193603484.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Early in the evening at Major Tom's</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The event was released on
social media as a special Roosters event at Major Tom’s - the world’s only cask
of the special collaboration between Roosters and Present Tense Fine Ales.
On the night of the event, I walked into the pub before the guys from
Roosters had shown up, and I ordered a pint of “The Purist and the Pioneer” -
the name that I had coined for the beer as a reference to myself, the purist,
and Oliver, the pioneer. As much as I was amazed to see the beer that I
had created being served in this pub in the UK, it was even crazier to see, as
I stood at the bar, person after person order and enjoy my creation - the greatest joy for a brewer. I
took my pint, without anyone realizing that it was my beer that was being
served, and I found myself a seat. It took a while for me to realize that
the majority of the people in the pub had come specifically to try my beer -
obviously not because it was MY beer, but because it was a one off beer from
Roosters - and I was incredibly grateful to have been given this opportunity by
Oliver. For anyone with a distinguishing palette, they could recognize
that there was nothing characteristic of Roosters present in the beer, rather,
it was distinctly traditional and characteristically English - that was my
intention...a product of a purist approach. The guys from Roosters soon
showed up and had nothing but good things to say about the beer. One of
the most memorable critiques of my beer coming from Oliver’s friend Rob, a rep
from Lallemand (a producer of brewing yeast) and a former brewer at Copper
Dragon in Skipton, who undoubtedly had an incredible knowledge, understanding,
and appreciation of English beer said that my beer precisely hit every aspect
of a great ESB and was a fine example of real, traditional English ale.
And I was surprised to see later that night a Tweet from him, that as
much as he left an impression on me, I left an impression on him…”An absolute
pleasure to spend time with someone who understands ESB and the finer points of
British yeast”...quite a compliment from a yeast expert to just an American who
loves English ale.<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPphCbEq5d1CtsDJkFFYXTjbuTNe7phAfQuBv5B7mvD7ayVdyWuuG0zD2nfi2q3kJUVQENv5JNYjTCEL0X2idlVfnNdYYWl4X7GhulOd9AbB4LuNihRWVUFYWi7oF6w9aeDS2RmUtGzAFf/s1600/IMG_20151217_201619369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPphCbEq5d1CtsDJkFFYXTjbuTNe7phAfQuBv5B7mvD7ayVdyWuuG0zD2nfi2q3kJUVQENv5JNYjTCEL0X2idlVfnNdYYWl4X7GhulOd9AbB4LuNihRWVUFYWi7oF6w9aeDS2RmUtGzAFf/s320/IMG_20151217_201619369.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The world's only cask of The Purist and The Pioneer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As a result of my recent travels
around Oxford and London, I had a clear idea of what a real ESB tasted like...I
had lost track of how many pints of Fuller’s ESB I had consumed. So, it
was fresh on my mind how “The Purist and The Pioneer” stood up to the one and
only Fuller’s. But one thing was noticeably different about the beer that
I had created as I finished my first pint. The pint was beautiful -
crystal clear, poured with the cascade of white aeration settling into a dark
rust colored liquid and coalescing on top to a thick, dense foam head - the
first drink was a mouthful of flavor - malt sweetness balanced with classic
orange marmalade, slight spicy hop character - the feel - silky and smooth.
Then, the next drink, all of that flavor and vibrancy disappeared into a
muddled, but smooth, indescribably drinkable liquid...the appearance remaining
as brilliant as ever with the lacing telling the story of every sip. As I
contemplated the beer in my hand and thought back on how the beer had tasted as
it was being racked into the cask, something came to my mind - the sparkler. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznI0QtlR1hOGL-b7bdop3xw8sEMYv5mmKr3QiA8LrQUj0us4OkzFdjgSjLfW3h8_uD7g6bZvwaF9qWkz6a0gwIPLvsdrLkFzhNWtbb0-wV6SNiyIQi7ZLWWveHPTr0fPLaBpid6iuwRU2/s1600/IMG_20151217_193715847+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznI0QtlR1hOGL-b7bdop3xw8sEMYv5mmKr3QiA8LrQUj0us4OkzFdjgSjLfW3h8_uD7g6bZvwaF9qWkz6a0gwIPLvsdrLkFzhNWtbb0-wV6SNiyIQi7ZLWWveHPTr0fPLaBpid6iuwRU2/s320/IMG_20151217_193715847+%25282%2529.jpg" width="175" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Purist and The Pioneer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have mentioned the
sparkler in previous blog posts and up to this point hadn’t quite made a
conclusive decision as to what I really thought about them. To a
Yorkshireman, the only way to drink a pint is through a sparkler - the argument
emphasizing the appearance of the beer as it is poured and the thick, creamy
head that is formed on top of the pint. However, the argument tends to
ignore or overlook the flavor of the beer...if the flavor is addressed, the
notion of the sparkler negatively affecting flavor is immediately rejected and,
in its place, it is suggested the flavor is not different. In all
reality, though, most Yorkshiremen were born and raised drinking beer through a
sparkler and the flavor that results is the flavor of beer that they expect -
not necessarily better or worse, but familiar. For the use of a sparkler to
be questioned is to concede to a potential paradigm shift in their
understanding of beer. From an unbiased
perspective, it is undeniable the difference that a sparkler imparts on the
flavor of a beer. For some beers it can have a positive effect, but for
other beers it can really destroy the flavor and vibrancy of a beer.<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, as my peers at the
brewery gathered around me, true Yorkshiremen no less, I suggested that maybe
this beer should be sampled without a sparkler, since, in the South, where this
beer originated, they do not use a sparkler. Also, if my memory served me
correctly, this beer had significantly more depth of character than I was
getting from the pint I had pulled through a sparkler. At first, the
reaction was a bit of dismissal, kinda laughing and not really thinking I was
serious, but then I reaffirmed my notion and insisted that my memory of this
beer was much different. So, one of the guys walked up to the bar and
ordered a pint served with a sparkler and another pint served with the sparkler
removed...not a common request at Major Tom’s and certainly a request that
makes the typical Yorkshireman a little uneasy. <span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two pints sat on the table
in front of us - the appearance of the beers not drastically different - no
doubt, the sparkler beer had a thicker, creamier head, but the beer not served
through a sparkler still had a head which was relatively thick and creamy.
Then, the first guy picked up the beer not served through a sparkler,
took a discerning sniff, and then a generous sip. Then, repeating the
process on the beer served through a sparkler...saving his judgment until
everyone could make the comparison. It finally got around to me and
immediately the first sip of the sparklerless beer triggered my memory of the
flavors that I had been familiar with. The difference was dramatic, in my
opinion. The sparkler took the life out of the beer, leaving muddled
flavors and a less interesting character in the beer. My
presumptions had proven true, however, it was not a unanimous defeat of the
sparkler, as one or two true die hard Yorkshiremen still preferred the sparkler
and would not accept reality - to each their own.<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The night went on and the
collection of pint glasses grew on the table in front of us. By 10:30pm, the
world’s only cask of “The Purist and The Pioneer” had been emptied, and people
started clearing out of Major Tom’s. The UK premier of Present Tense Fine
Ales had been a huge success, and I was incredibly satisfied with the beer that
Oliver and I had created.<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilO4qRooPPThAUcftT24tf9ZoBucNheZytP9abrORPu5hIPLBYFMByKHfoHONzQDP9lDQeQXKFvC4ctH_5AoZnGutlTsU_oQOVb3LnEjm9di7PbYu64yQQcaMsPqmMlFjf52DBufnIYx5r/s1600/IMG_20151217_212500875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilO4qRooPPThAUcftT24tf9ZoBucNheZytP9abrORPu5hIPLBYFMByKHfoHONzQDP9lDQeQXKFvC4ctH_5AoZnGutlTsU_oQOVb3LnEjm9di7PbYu64yQQcaMsPqmMlFjf52DBufnIYx5r/s320/IMG_20151217_212500875.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The end of the night at Major Tom's.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The last days at Roosters
went by like every other day, save our final evening after work, we all sat
down around the lunch table and I shared my gift of four beers that I had had
shipped over from the US. I said my farewells and caught a ride back
home, where I spent the remainder of the evening sorting out my luggage and
finding a way to stuff 30 bottles of beer, safely without any chance of
breaking, into my two pieces of luggage. They eventually fit after making
a few compromises on my clothing and one bottle, and I resigned myself to the
fact that I would have to lug around 86 pounds of luggage for my multiple
flight itinerary home.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHa-mrGViCu6Pez8I0jdLG49JK3UtaUCUyUd2o9vAl4N459Kg85ndvVg0ULooJGtCuOfNrckaavQI-T8XWeWKEuSjrp0fkzPgvBX_HOFmGA3G5xYakTQuFxFD0A52qM_Q7kHzyaFCjr3O0/s1600/IMG_20151223_194032047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHa-mrGViCu6Pez8I0jdLG49JK3UtaUCUyUd2o9vAl4N459Kg85ndvVg0ULooJGtCuOfNrckaavQI-T8XWeWKEuSjrp0fkzPgvBX_HOFmGA3G5xYakTQuFxFD0A52qM_Q7kHzyaFCjr3O0/s320/IMG_20151223_194032047.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Last pint of cask ale - Black Sheep Special Ale at The Swan on the Stray.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My three months in the UK
came to an end on Christmas Eve…or so I thought. Little did I know how
hard it would be for the UK to let me go. As I was dreaming of Christmas
with my girlfriend and family back in Missouri, the plans for my flight back
home started falling apart all around me. My flight out of Leeds was
grounded due to a bloody propeller (a bird having become a victim of its
landing into Leeds). There was no way for me to make my flight from
Dublin to Chicago, and since I had booked my flight through a third party
website, the airline was warning me of the potential that there was nothing
they could do about it. For two hours, my stress level exceeded a point
that I rarely experience – I called the website who directed me to the airline;
then I called the airline who told me there was nothing they could do and that
I should call the website. I was stuck in an endless cycle of non-sense
at an airport whose staff had absolutely no power to do anything for my
situation. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A glimmer of hope, my only
hope at that point, came when I was told that I could be transferred to a
flight to London and maybe get a flight back to the States on Christmas day.
With no other information available to me because of a complete lack of
competence at Leeds Airport, I boarded a flight to London hoping that Heathrow
Airport would handle my situation a little more professionally. My hopes
came true – a friendly woman greeted me at the Aer Lingus kiosk and I soon had
accommodations for the night with dinner and breakfast provided and the booking
for my flight home on Christmas day. After a little frustration at Leeds,
Aer Lingus came through and treated me to a peaceful Christmas Eve, albeit an
ocean away from where I wanted to be. I landed in Kansas City at 3pm on
Christmas Day with the lyrics of “I’ll be home for Christmas” ringing in my
mind truer than I ever could have imagined.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN0osAqljAjf4UuVgzUK_wJKX5wWnfqp1m91l-cnycMaPm87fuguWmX4KpOnLZYgFffgbWbOSll-tZHgoYCw0HO4UXXHyN2n7BnFGth4DvdmF8RgeifgvwFcud17d2_4a3vtoaez_MKdqK/s1600/IMG_20151224_152759218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN0osAqljAjf4UuVgzUK_wJKX5wWnfqp1m91l-cnycMaPm87fuguWmX4KpOnLZYgFffgbWbOSll-tZHgoYCw0HO4UXXHyN2n7BnFGth4DvdmF8RgeifgvwFcud17d2_4a3vtoaez_MKdqK/s320/IMG_20151224_152759218.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flying into London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now back in Chicago, after enjoying the holidays with family, I have had plenty of time to reminisce on my time in the UK. The nostalgia of the last three months did not take long to resurface. On my first day back, I found myself sitting at a bar in Holland, MI. I ordered a pint of a non-descript English ale from a local brewery and my heart sunk when the waitress returned with a 16-oz glass of ice cold, over carbonated, murky brown beer - plenty of reminder that I am not in the UK anymore! But what I do have, that cannot be impaired by a dreadful pint, is the memory of the amazing English beer, the gratefulness in my heart of the incredible generosity and welcoming hospitality of everyone I met in the UK, especially everyone at Roosters - Oliver, Tom, Tom, Ben, Stu, Jamie, Dave, Stu, Ian, and Caroline; James Fawcett; Mick; and all of the breweries and pubs that treated me with such respect and freely opened their doors to me to help teach me what it takes to make amazing English ale. It was an amazing experience - one that I will never forget and one that has only reinforced my passion for brewing and rejuvenated my desire to bring the authentic English experience back to Chicago.</div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">
<br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-37067643170207981622015-12-29T08:24:00.000-08:002015-12-29T08:42:10.392-08:00The Whirlwind Tour Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;">Returning to Rooster’s at the end of the day, after everyone
else had gone home, I caught a ride to the train station for my next
destination - Oxford. After spending
the majority of my stay in the UK in North Yorkshire, with it being exposed to
a definite, and not necessarily unmerited, prejudice toward the top notch beer
of the region, I took a brief departure to seek out the celebrated ales of the
South – the land where sparklers have no home and the ales abound in flavor and
complexity. I arrived in Oxford around
10pm; needing to get up fairly early to catch the bus, I called it a night
without venturing out to the fine local establishments of Oxford. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The following morning I took the bus to Witney, a small town
about 20 minutes outside Oxford – home to Wychwood Brewery – another brewery
whose beer I was already well acquainted with before coming to the UK. Their flagship Hobgoblin can be found at many
bars and on many shelves of beer retailers in Chicago. Wychwood was bought out by Marston’s several
years ago, which brings with it somewhat of a stigma from die hard beer
enthusiasts in the UK, but as I soon found out, not much has been affected by
the buyout. The beer is still brewed
quite traditionally, utilizing much of the same equipment, however, all of the
cask filling and packaging is done offsite – making the focus of the brewery
itself completely on the brewing of the beer.
Without the hassle of packaging the beer, the brew day is much less
physically demanding, however, the idea of sending beer away to have someone
else package it, however monotonous and menial the task can become, does
detract from the personal connection with the beer. That being said, the beer was still quite
delicious and I did learn quite a bit from my time at the brewery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCEH1JKDq2-i1hdCQtidcZbUuUv-FpBd2A3RxsPx4UorZqDo2F7XwJ5zfQpfr0EtUMHNbNGSBvHGvnUGao-OrkfiAGZunQVTn6XOKeagc6DPMK8aHUKn77fmwSvC7wdQG8xILktUBAzGQ/s1600/IMG_20151209_093850708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCEH1JKDq2-i1hdCQtidcZbUuUv-FpBd2A3RxsPx4UorZqDo2F7XwJ5zfQpfr0EtUMHNbNGSBvHGvnUGao-OrkfiAGZunQVTn6XOKeagc6DPMK8aHUKn77fmwSvC7wdQG8xILktUBAzGQ/s320/IMG_20151209_093850708.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Salts being added to mash.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTa-0Fz1ZPQAq2bNK55ApadfGLgXPNJtVehbEv_eaENhzooYFMCG8IEJObGjdXE1G4rso-cGnHjVAmHn5kQYHD0UxUeQyHREfht7hp8-zi6jI76BUKfFE1pQAQ_QEc4Cnwr0iCFhj2_cjZ/s1600/IMG_20151209_121916391_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTa-0Fz1ZPQAq2bNK55ApadfGLgXPNJtVehbEv_eaENhzooYFMCG8IEJObGjdXE1G4rso-cGnHjVAmHn5kQYHD0UxUeQyHREfht7hp8-zi6jI76BUKfFE1pQAQ_QEc4Cnwr0iCFhj2_cjZ/s320/IMG_20151209_121916391_HDR.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angel Inn in Witney</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBC78Fo0P079XZJbrdDFLNuE30cQ9QzYR2wDh1Zhl8ZXzB2QW4Jc9lQ31NHxGt8acWqsttXA0dOKZ3TkCvhoIyp7DqwglVbMjdjaOPIbSBoLBsHTlKHS5NpxBQa2HsD9KMGgtdzaV8I7yU/s1600/P1016498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBC78Fo0P079XZJbrdDFLNuE30cQ9QzYR2wDh1Zhl8ZXzB2QW4Jc9lQ31NHxGt8acWqsttXA0dOKZ3TkCvhoIyp7DqwglVbMjdjaOPIbSBoLBsHTlKHS5NpxBQa2HsD9KMGgtdzaV8I7yU/s320/P1016498.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Double drop fermentation vessels at Wychwood.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmLrE6ulMt815A887GpVypksF3UO2Md4iFEVjJAE0icEpMokCRlOELgC9WJxPCRXHGMg3De4QQY_qt5oiVBnT15InVWOUxDAMZij1I4HcrRTGvB6WlThzroFKrlX100rvBcQkCjKmZGeb/s1600/P1016502.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmLrE6ulMt815A887GpVypksF3UO2Md4iFEVjJAE0icEpMokCRlOELgC9WJxPCRXHGMg3De4QQY_qt5oiVBnT15InVWOUxDAMZij1I4HcrRTGvB6WlThzroFKrlX100rvBcQkCjKmZGeb/s320/P1016502.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old school Wychwood Brewery sign.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpexzqrU-vc7X6Eu1z8HKzcJgez64vtK8L7mnZKZukAxpBR_Ukh5ShXZ12N_XohIy4lUe1eKNOlbJ0DJwAXM0_nc_Wna4Z5KtirgrPgAQd4WAHUut7gaO7oAjOnkIe_Ml9zEa-9kZKCYc7/s1600/P1016504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpexzqrU-vc7X6Eu1z8HKzcJgez64vtK8L7mnZKZukAxpBR_Ukh5ShXZ12N_XohIy4lUe1eKNOlbJ0DJwAXM0_nc_Wna4Z5KtirgrPgAQd4WAHUut7gaO7oAjOnkIe_Ml9zEa-9kZKCYc7/s320/P1016504.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whirlpool vessel and grist hopper at Wychwood.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once my brew day at Wychwood ended, I immediately hopped on
the bus back to Oxford to catch the express train to London. I arrived in London, found my hostel, and
headed out for some dinner and some pints.
I was staying in the Bayswater neighborhood – adjacent to Hyde Park,
with quick access to Chiswick and easily walkable from Paddington station – I
had put a little thought into where I should find accommodations in London…it
suited me just fine, because the following day I was headed to the one and
only, the iconic, Fuller’s Brewery in Chiswick.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day I arrived at Fuller’s a little before 9am. The head brewer, Henry, met me in the
reception office and we quickly made our way to the brewhouse. Anthony was at the controls for the brew, and
Henry proceeded to hand me off to Anthony to show me the ropes. Everything at Fuller’s was automated –
controlled by the click of a mouse on the computer. Schematics of the mash tuns, boil kettles,
and silos could be clicked on and off showing the real time operation of the
brewery. When a process need to be
turned on – double click….when the mash was over and the grain needed to be
discharged – double click…everything was incredibly convenient. The most physically demanding part of the
brew was when the hops needed to be dumped into the kettle requiring one person
to grab one handle of the bucket and the other person to grab the other and
lift. The second most demanding part was
to climb all of the stairs in the brewery to get to the brewing control
room. After spending a couple hours with
Anthony, getting shown the brewing process, I met up with Henry again to get a
tour of the complete facility – all of the plumbing at the base of the kettles
could be accessed at the bottom of the three story stair case, the fermentation
vessels also standing three stories high, the maturation vessels a carbon copy
of the fermentation vessels, the centrifugal filter, the old hundred year old
kettle and fermenter no longer in use, but there for nostalgia, the 15 stage
automated cask washer, and on and on – I can never dream of Present Tense ever
growing to such a size, but it was incredibly impressive to see such an
operation. After seeing the majority of
the brewery, Henry treated me to a few pints at the attached Mawson Arms pub. A good conversation ensued – critiquing the
current state of craft beer and comparing American beer with English beer – we
didn’t solve any of the world’s problems, but we got to know each other a
little better and both recognized in one another an incredible passion for
beer. After quickly consuming three
pints, he sent me on my way with a few recommendations for pubs to visit later
in the evening.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3tlMF7Cv8YFBh8W-XSvpdlatGxmwwkQvqNeB_LLkolRV8ub94B1Z9L1divKl6IEAodYW7eX44H0HHJ0QRaR2I0T_6PSpRbleUQr5TZeVZ_L6S6vhQyG6lIBxom6MSRpLbTUDUemFNlZw-/s1600/P1016549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3tlMF7Cv8YFBh8W-XSvpdlatGxmwwkQvqNeB_LLkolRV8ub94B1Z9L1divKl6IEAodYW7eX44H0HHJ0QRaR2I0T_6PSpRbleUQr5TZeVZ_L6S6vhQyG6lIBxom6MSRpLbTUDUemFNlZw-/s320/P1016549.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The iconic Fullers emblem.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9DQNtCngPEhd1ynm3Q2qHg28daE_Vu0sH83eaw07a7qY1EJR4Db5h0MuE7TsKbaJ8EtMANSqeJdkDhpJ2wGqCgCTgZhBiom0YOCXBn3yo2sTQgAE1rZ-cXDvv0RdOh_njeuOjsHD9430X/s1600/P1016552+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9DQNtCngPEhd1ynm3Q2qHg28daE_Vu0sH83eaw07a7qY1EJR4Db5h0MuE7TsKbaJ8EtMANSqeJdkDhpJ2wGqCgCTgZhBiom0YOCXBn3yo2sTQgAE1rZ-cXDvv0RdOh_njeuOjsHD9430X/s320/P1016552+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fuller's Griffin Brewery in Chiswick, London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4JSG-SBhgEfAgWlHsfov63etVEhkY-D_AzTswNpa44ebpCxUGFq4mLJe644vdKvhil25iPV95wE1J_InWyKSnlCdT6n_OlnsOgsKWk71qhm7oaB2R2lzHaw9QTQ9kFRzmYO6c7v2sgSIX/s1600/P1016508.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4JSG-SBhgEfAgWlHsfov63etVEhkY-D_AzTswNpa44ebpCxUGFq4mLJe644vdKvhil25iPV95wE1J_InWyKSnlCdT6n_OlnsOgsKWk71qhm7oaB2R2lzHaw9QTQ9kFRzmYO6c7v2sgSIX/s320/P1016508.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The brewhouse at Fuller's.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7DeDgbd1p2nMmHPdN6RINbVNzNlCDV9zXElGueP7-FDsZ-Adku_-NMnM77X9yYlo3OOWy00lNFxcSFcIjZjH8DH6rvBmw6u_MshKzDuIayIG43qLaLkgY0gPRq6to-3w0Ie812D9hcHK/s1600/P1016510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv7DeDgbd1p2nMmHPdN6RINbVNzNlCDV9zXElGueP7-FDsZ-Adku_-NMnM77X9yYlo3OOWy00lNFxcSFcIjZjH8DH6rvBmw6u_MshKzDuIayIG43qLaLkgY0gPRq6to-3w0Ie812D9hcHK/s320/P1016510.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three story vessels at Fuller's.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiNhWtOff3zYhw0Q8Hie_5xfnL8viDu7LCf8b2TwEG2ILLY3qKZ5IaYW2pshU07Fmp7SqmMtwViPqffNDsv89To0Tg3erl5sgBSLrjk0-27CfEb-8kL6AG2vcwmhsAklggsAqHAq73tRSF/s1600/P1016513.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiNhWtOff3zYhw0Q8Hie_5xfnL8viDu7LCf8b2TwEG2ILLY3qKZ5IaYW2pshU07Fmp7SqmMtwViPqffNDsv89To0Tg3erl5sgBSLrjk0-27CfEb-8kL6AG2vcwmhsAklggsAqHAq73tRSF/s320/P1016513.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fermentation vessels.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUQb8yq8aY3OsJJraIwFc9HuJyscjkw1DwVomfZeZuFDruFvRnx8_LJ9DvZiasuzgMaLm9B2T2gimM9Y0EUvIkK0uBtCrHX3yH_S8njMhSaYiLhDPeQ19BvNsciEeYa1OnR3lNMx7BfrN/s1600/P1016524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMUQb8yq8aY3OsJJraIwFc9HuJyscjkw1DwVomfZeZuFDruFvRnx8_LJ9DvZiasuzgMaLm9B2T2gimM9Y0EUvIkK0uBtCrHX3yH_S8njMhSaYiLhDPeQ19BvNsciEeYa1OnR3lNMx7BfrN/s320/P1016524.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brewery control system.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXOspq5RPqkVsnYSmEB46FlNvpTc6dCQdi_JXczXdlx4bypHOXG-PwkIwiIqPxY67jh3iIZsnGFhHauqwDWlph1UDPix_I58g9I8RQxtF11Ue63EPdOitgnwSsprGLUh6aczySLgbDbMb/s1600/P1016540+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYXOspq5RPqkVsnYSmEB46FlNvpTc6dCQdi_JXczXdlx4bypHOXG-PwkIwiIqPxY67jh3iIZsnGFhHauqwDWlph1UDPix_I58g9I8RQxtF11Ue63EPdOitgnwSsprGLUh6aczySLgbDbMb/s320/P1016540+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fuller's smokestack.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbr0lkVknZBBl_mHrO8SxJlHIdIUVI2MGoIITUy84m7G8vgg0GLcj3wh1C1ajCBGx-yhjYkzlyBl0vArZZci7hHW62XsEkjlmUlnEh2zGK_VQiij0Dh-ZsdAIBAL0UeWltZ7dVJ4YFV3Nd/s1600/P1016548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbr0lkVknZBBl_mHrO8SxJlHIdIUVI2MGoIITUy84m7G8vgg0GLcj3wh1C1ajCBGx-yhjYkzlyBl0vArZZci7hHW62XsEkjlmUlnEh2zGK_VQiij0Dh-ZsdAIBAL0UeWltZ7dVJ4YFV3Nd/s320/P1016548.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few pints at Mawson Arms.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stayed in London the rest of the day, making the most of
my time by visiting several historical interiors…in other words…pubs. Following Henry’s recommendations, I made my
way to some iconic pubs around London – Cittie of Yorke, Princess Louis, Ye
Olde Cheshire Cat, The Red Lion, and Churchill Arms. One
thing in particular can be said about my experience in visiting pubs in
London…the people of London sure know how to do after work drinks. I got an early start at Cittie of Yorke,
before the after work crowd arrived.
However, the rest of the pubs were packed…no seats to be found anywhere,
and this was how practically every pub in London was from between 4:30 to 11pm
on any given weeknight. The pub really
is the undisputed center of culture and life in England!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9T0X1uCL9-23__SwXmVl5FdA9WyCxuQTcNxsqyTzgzrf6RkXo1jLtJG1NtM8L0BW7Vnan8fFHftITa0E3g8OI9lrj-zSMLqua0TtingI1hXWI3FgToR_3sTGTFSgaAG9bXsg4pgh0uBZ/s1600/P1016565.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9T0X1uCL9-23__SwXmVl5FdA9WyCxuQTcNxsqyTzgzrf6RkXo1jLtJG1NtM8L0BW7Vnan8fFHftITa0E3g8OI9lrj-zSMLqua0TtingI1hXWI3FgToR_3sTGTFSgaAG9bXsg4pgh0uBZ/s320/P1016565.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cittie of Yorke - London</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7Cb45b33cFjUXycBK6BHyWf-0jVJpG0fYHGWPDZcEdtEhgb7amBoSHUoxi8ML-J6s5OB1nyIzwyZlxL0TXd_DTkCy2UJUB8JVcAQoic0wNQXpKyKXSljaAv0oSLGMgz2iRcKRZmF8pJO/s1600/P1016555.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7Cb45b33cFjUXycBK6BHyWf-0jVJpG0fYHGWPDZcEdtEhgb7amBoSHUoxi8ML-J6s5OB1nyIzwyZlxL0TXd_DTkCy2UJUB8JVcAQoic0wNQXpKyKXSljaAv0oSLGMgz2iRcKRZmF8pJO/s320/P1016555.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cittie of Yorke - London.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9IrCse_RBuOD1f5kJyTQOMuL6PAyh5A_BXNGrrs3-AilvEOUB7JdxhBYi1J4ZhfOoPXSwwhr-IkNFKvz1989NAninQ0yjKpJIgJx6HvfEwOUNJs-B55TX0FGDSAOA_Oo1HHSuUQuyWxd/s1600/P1016559.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9IrCse_RBuOD1f5kJyTQOMuL6PAyh5A_BXNGrrs3-AilvEOUB7JdxhBYi1J4ZhfOoPXSwwhr-IkNFKvz1989NAninQ0yjKpJIgJx6HvfEwOUNJs-B55TX0FGDSAOA_Oo1HHSuUQuyWxd/s320/P1016559.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cittie of Yorke - London.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3U4BGpKYVpT75c3MV_l-ZuAhLX9Wk_MFQj8OvIST78CUo97eR05_1eO9k3R5tzGOnUNfr2w-m5Eu_TFeb5TCBD9Xa2-4ROBBt0ZbCqd5K0vSb8X_7_sW-zRwMUp7XP3un-foNAhVVXAVb/s1600/P1016560.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3U4BGpKYVpT75c3MV_l-ZuAhLX9Wk_MFQj8OvIST78CUo97eR05_1eO9k3R5tzGOnUNfr2w-m5Eu_TFeb5TCBD9Xa2-4ROBBt0ZbCqd5K0vSb8X_7_sW-zRwMUp7XP3un-foNAhVVXAVb/s320/P1016560.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Cittie of Yorke - London.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiFBqekKRRXazCJn05QQ0hnB1TfMLm1enymT0K5Ca-hyu4_55QSZm16fCcQfxlsrf_3uu8hvvYnxA-5GGo7mJctCEQLHSYAU0cPXXE2Re0sxQnTMs66L-sW8fGfjViVEb8vOcHxc1a2Jw/s1600/P1016578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHiFBqekKRRXazCJn05QQ0hnB1TfMLm1enymT0K5Ca-hyu4_55QSZm16fCcQfxlsrf_3uu8hvvYnxA-5GGo7mJctCEQLHSYAU0cPXXE2Re0sxQnTMs66L-sW8fGfjViVEb8vOcHxc1a2Jw/s320/P1016578.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Princess Louise - London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpSWDqdgTa-CKiWzyayMz1n17kCJIWuTube4TmT64MRTrZP2xMXYefT4XxNNIkEtUjPskSDSE-rW8nqSdk8XNUT1FfB9IUa600jXN-Bn6jaJm7KdKgrsmE9oLbIXsrmMzVMluzO2XsEX6/s1600/P1016570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpSWDqdgTa-CKiWzyayMz1n17kCJIWuTube4TmT64MRTrZP2xMXYefT4XxNNIkEtUjPskSDSE-rW8nqSdk8XNUT1FfB9IUa600jXN-Bn6jaJm7KdKgrsmE9oLbIXsrmMzVMluzO2XsEX6/s320/P1016570.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Princess Louise - London.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXVqb4EiCcPAmDZuRnFzDU4t5y6VaUwVadq-VoxPQt3r3j0OvBrnAKLWJJZK8HJ14PnfdQ1201HdZg5ClNxwwtPM1NC740cfNeYfaotAXnzJpak2bgz7J2yhtdFKMqiu_Ojxfqg8VXOVL/s1600/P1016577.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWXVqb4EiCcPAmDZuRnFzDU4t5y6VaUwVadq-VoxPQt3r3j0OvBrnAKLWJJZK8HJ14PnfdQ1201HdZg5ClNxwwtPM1NC740cfNeYfaotAXnzJpak2bgz7J2yhtdFKMqiu_Ojxfqg8VXOVL/s320/P1016577.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Princess Louise - London.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM77DZpwknVLO99QIP3pdTaMSmZX0dR7zAF5lLglmLdlP-7F39PolZJZ61kXTO3vOfIirLWVA9Pp2j0JVrwp2k27Oipl_Nm2dyGPUi1d3Q0yv4u3iqQbDfw14U7st6rARKq6qVLFT610Gg/s1600/P1016568.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM77DZpwknVLO99QIP3pdTaMSmZX0dR7zAF5lLglmLdlP-7F39PolZJZ61kXTO3vOfIirLWVA9Pp2j0JVrwp2k27Oipl_Nm2dyGPUi1d3Q0yv4u3iqQbDfw14U7st6rARKq6qVLFT610Gg/s320/P1016568.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Princess Louise - London.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOgkSIQ3n4YXpgqEa4PLyuIcP_CwZMOaBETqPwpvn8cx232e6HDjL-LeoxDpo28DvnxV-QfCR_rqZc7Yb9nhvnK6Og-Acc-MlGZgG0lfClUYwLaRH8Lce_xxV8OGSAGGwx5TOGKiZpNSg/s1600/P1016581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWOgkSIQ3n4YXpgqEa4PLyuIcP_CwZMOaBETqPwpvn8cx232e6HDjL-LeoxDpo28DvnxV-QfCR_rqZc7Yb9nhvnK6Og-Acc-MlGZgG0lfClUYwLaRH8Lce_xxV8OGSAGGwx5TOGKiZpNSg/s320/P1016581.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese - London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhilx0QTGXjNmpcD9nUCGb5_Aw3v-wQKhrWx-Vvfxa_vIxsjAycY-Sf_KJSct0l_n9PLR5Ieqffnot_RUCgshQGt5lFAmgXnt03EPLNm-gNWUKmvU8aTFCLdFSbIa2FyLJR_MxI9lilisL7/s1600/P1016584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhilx0QTGXjNmpcD9nUCGb5_Aw3v-wQKhrWx-Vvfxa_vIxsjAycY-Sf_KJSct0l_n9PLR5Ieqffnot_RUCgshQGt5lFAmgXnt03EPLNm-gNWUKmvU8aTFCLdFSbIa2FyLJR_MxI9lilisL7/s320/P1016584.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese - London.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Ovje4iZ37v3PtR5llFTKXi-_7CPQUEK3Kf5rQHbz7I9rOu3p35s4-B3uaVkrnqTOAZDDW0__ochO_clZ-hJpYRLQO9cYvGmAfvCUJjH4YgCl7nPemdUvHXj9Nl4YF0Qcwsduwzl92bDH/s1600/P1016586.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Ovje4iZ37v3PtR5llFTKXi-_7CPQUEK3Kf5rQHbz7I9rOu3p35s4-B3uaVkrnqTOAZDDW0__ochO_clZ-hJpYRLQO9cYvGmAfvCUJjH4YgCl7nPemdUvHXj9Nl4YF0Qcwsduwzl92bDH/s320/P1016586.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese - London.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8-o45-J-beDGJ2XnqgWVtTc9vtfDZsiqS6a99B1tGAE8GB86MlbDf6FKOrGYTDSTPb5d5T0Zi04KGjTyw8FUQT-qpMVoZ7KguGOS9wveDgeHAYVOeIyGUk02Uy4N_dUdaPWhoPOY1Hom/s1600/P1016592.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil8-o45-J-beDGJ2XnqgWVtTc9vtfDZsiqS6a99B1tGAE8GB86MlbDf6FKOrGYTDSTPb5d5T0Zi04KGjTyw8FUQT-qpMVoZ7KguGOS9wveDgeHAYVOeIyGUk02Uy4N_dUdaPWhoPOY1Hom/s320/P1016592.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese - London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PYRArxVogS-8HPXz1Kj_SmwuKlhKAgR4Ns4gxIUpnQ2FC1xMJWY2HNxSJPjTq171EBpEOICDy67Kt27jNmzPLtEu_gQpZRowppVP42BfAgSqyq1MRvaYmhx_g6iIy62ICE4cBiKD6b18/s1600/P1016606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5PYRArxVogS-8HPXz1Kj_SmwuKlhKAgR4Ns4gxIUpnQ2FC1xMJWY2HNxSJPjTq171EBpEOICDy67Kt27jNmzPLtEu_gQpZRowppVP42BfAgSqyq1MRvaYmhx_g6iIy62ICE4cBiKD6b18/s320/P1016606.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Lion - London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQKDX6bPJAukQUjXwzEdzqklDMzpj5CgfHGuXqHAFTvaKmsOGHFN6wxnp5DN37j3i_66COhrK1rf3K60B9ssQvJIVRWM9Xn2Cnyf16rMOTYxTeHSXHoFAalwjR-JdqjEs61fj7CdKQzIqr/s1600/IMG_20151210_202130845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQKDX6bPJAukQUjXwzEdzqklDMzpj5CgfHGuXqHAFTvaKmsOGHFN6wxnp5DN37j3i_66COhrK1rf3K60B9ssQvJIVRWM9Xn2Cnyf16rMOTYxTeHSXHoFAalwjR-JdqjEs61fj7CdKQzIqr/s320/IMG_20151210_202130845.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Churchill Arms - London</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5R4UYvQ3yrRlvM4nWgDBwwkDV9fTPzNJ2CmRTCa2K0oTz4GbPeT-k_RVp_dVWktRKpIAlaFmOQvqW13tc9-CxR2uIUoTSm1XJx1AcxXDZrdxRBKmJ8KcaeSWGG5qMgkxjb3l0YUXdK0XY/s1600/IMG_20151210_203110437.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5R4UYvQ3yrRlvM4nWgDBwwkDV9fTPzNJ2CmRTCa2K0oTz4GbPeT-k_RVp_dVWktRKpIAlaFmOQvqW13tc9-CxR2uIUoTSm1XJx1AcxXDZrdxRBKmJ8KcaeSWGG5qMgkxjb3l0YUXdK0XY/s320/IMG_20151210_203110437.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Churchill Arms - London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day I had a more relaxed start to my day, not
needing to be anywhere until 2:00pm. I
took the train to Swindon and then transferred to a bus to Devizes – the home
of Wadworth Brewery. I have had a bit of
history with Wadworth, having originally received an internship opportunity
from them a couple years ago, only to have it rescinded due to company
restructuring. So, I had been
particularly interested in seeing their operation. Their brewery is housed in a traditional
Victorian tower brewery standing high above the town of Devizes. All of the original equipment remains,
however mainly unused since the installation of a German made brewhouse a
couple years ago. My tour lasted a
couple hours, followed by the sampling of all 7 beers that were on at the bar. The whole experience was a little
underwhelming, considering most of the “brewery” that was shown was just for
show as a historical artifact and the tour guide and fellow workers left a lot
to be desired in the area of enthusiasm…but, hey, at least I got some beer at
the end.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5wFcbi_UPeUdJVxd2ojIK0XmXzdzf-spxA0db5VbAAoYHlijV-82L33LXyRYvjLfJDbCmIU2BJbWTvPJWGajgaBZFiSZEWLt3Ure1suWEo1ULg0cVAdXkikv-6irRylCymAUBXFwjTCJ1/s1600/P1016614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5wFcbi_UPeUdJVxd2ojIK0XmXzdzf-spxA0db5VbAAoYHlijV-82L33LXyRYvjLfJDbCmIU2BJbWTvPJWGajgaBZFiSZEWLt3Ure1suWEo1ULg0cVAdXkikv-6irRylCymAUBXFwjTCJ1/s320/P1016614.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wadworth Brewery - Devizes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcsRx5O9baQ2LeGo439yBsxKCBuncfqIP23uOBVmEZ1MutE_oD3pSvQ-auwx4v8LA1jVYiH2Q8ShqU4rct1QMUXZw-Zcdk_6qdd7DZHTMcbgT-cHS88-BJKv-BtY7FvBG9wnSTgfH9lMm/s1600/P1016640.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitcsRx5O9baQ2LeGo439yBsxKCBuncfqIP23uOBVmEZ1MutE_oD3pSvQ-auwx4v8LA1jVYiH2Q8ShqU4rct1QMUXZw-Zcdk_6qdd7DZHTMcbgT-cHS88-BJKv-BtY7FvBG9wnSTgfH9lMm/s320/P1016640.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New German built brewhouse at Wadworth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1NbFpcuQD1UyIEGkHh283kMkyF6aSzXsKmUO5frpz6OtloPlocRx9mAVQBs-OdpRDVk-tYIF4P6GT-M1rLnmHTIWcTSOg0UvsqEwwz3QTxxY5uHpyijopXpR6A7kXjOqlzRVMUtJWWYwW/s1600/P1016675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1NbFpcuQD1UyIEGkHh283kMkyF6aSzXsKmUO5frpz6OtloPlocRx9mAVQBs-OdpRDVk-tYIF4P6GT-M1rLnmHTIWcTSOg0UvsqEwwz3QTxxY5uHpyijopXpR6A7kXjOqlzRVMUtJWWYwW/s320/P1016675.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Famous shire at Wadworth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Following the stint in Devizes, I returned to Oxford via two
buses and found my way to my hostel.
With less of a packed day behind me, I was able to venture out to a
couple pubs and enjoy the offerings of Oxford.
Despite Oxford’s central location for my breweries visits, it also
offered a very good selection of historical pubs with the colleges of Oxford
University as quite a picturesque backdrop.
The first pub I visited was The Eagle and Child – historically known as
the hangout of the Inklings. I had a
Brakspear Bitter, which, coincidentally, was the beer I had just helped brew at
Wychwood a couple days earlier. I then
walked across the street to The Lamb and Flag and enjoyed a decent ruby porter
amid a beautiful interior. I then called
it a night and headed back to the hostel.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCrGpS-xfQob2jmu5HQ1Wpg5i1dPQT2GpTn3o9pAGuyp89n5pG-L_kZQKOrpvrgGsoq5_yumC0jNFw24ibsq2GiUt0nXn937naGq_2tCh90PS5W9OT2xpxMoQSU6Ghltf1phnkHpjDOFHn/s1600/IMG_20151211_213603183_HDR+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCrGpS-xfQob2jmu5HQ1Wpg5i1dPQT2GpTn3o9pAGuyp89n5pG-L_kZQKOrpvrgGsoq5_yumC0jNFw24ibsq2GiUt0nXn937naGq_2tCh90PS5W9OT2xpxMoQSU6Ghltf1phnkHpjDOFHn/s320/IMG_20151211_213603183_HDR+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Eagle and Child - Oxford.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvy2thjE0LMJMGjN88p746N_YtOrUFTvvRuJj-JhMaIVmJag_Nikg1eL9liNUMjtOm_8WFBIaX5EskC3wxJX-qZYOdxF8tHg6DPBrxHiyqh-MW8y_S-hPggCP84TdVcLYBAbgX2GkCG_aX/s1600/IMG_20151211_215652755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvy2thjE0LMJMGjN88p746N_YtOrUFTvvRuJj-JhMaIVmJag_Nikg1eL9liNUMjtOm_8WFBIaX5EskC3wxJX-qZYOdxF8tHg6DPBrxHiyqh-MW8y_S-hPggCP84TdVcLYBAbgX2GkCG_aX/s320/IMG_20151211_215652755.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lamb & Flag - Oxford.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The last brewery of this whirlwind tour was Hook
Norton. I had booked a tour for 11am the
following morning. It was a 20 minute
train ride to Banbury then a transfer to a bus and another 45 minutes to Hook
Norton – a picturesque village in the Cotswold Hills. The brewery, like Wadworth, was an impressive
Victorian tower brewery – however, unlike Wadworth, much of the brewery is
still operational and used every day.
The tour was abundantly information, with the guide being very
knowledgeable and passionate about the brewing process and the history of the
brewery. For being over a hundred years
old, the brewery was in incredible condition and immaculately clean – wooden
interior with white painted beams accented with orange paint – everything was
really just bursting with character. The
trip was well worth it, and I was very satisfied with the tour and the
experience. And, of course, following
the tour we got to sample all 8 beers that were on the bar. The beers were fantastic – huge flavor,
abounding with complex character, and properly poured with a head that stood
the test of time – a certain indication of a well maintained cellar and a
brewery that really cares about what it is doing, and a prime example of the
wonderful beers of South England.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhpfaopZw6JD5I5ZqDwoIQ0pOum537s_lcdVkAqlSPaePqo6MFC-mopnzFzpsia4GqH5zUI8ULuivKV_ec4IaK7bFlzbYPu8We3h8bI3z4RCm-3TdUXROsYpNvvzjO4aTHpqcwTuEEHlat/s1600/P1016688+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhpfaopZw6JD5I5ZqDwoIQ0pOum537s_lcdVkAqlSPaePqo6MFC-mopnzFzpsia4GqH5zUI8ULuivKV_ec4IaK7bFlzbYPu8We3h8bI3z4RCm-3TdUXROsYpNvvzjO4aTHpqcwTuEEHlat/s320/P1016688+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hook Norton village.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUiswKR5iL2rY1yFcQxP24zGkDr7nDXwUWI93LHSye2roY8qDrtyAMjvTwkUNpqB9TpzMBhkVIJLFNFAOeY4XxRoEVO3pobJJY9DR3AdRep8__tIBoqvGHrxULT7JT-pYV9GUE-UPZss2/s1600/P1016692.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUiswKR5iL2rY1yFcQxP24zGkDr7nDXwUWI93LHSye2roY8qDrtyAMjvTwkUNpqB9TpzMBhkVIJLFNFAOeY4XxRoEVO3pobJJY9DR3AdRep8__tIBoqvGHrxULT7JT-pYV9GUE-UPZss2/s320/P1016692.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hook Norton village.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfq65raKh-ZRxnA1Yz8yyyoObKtIQrgiSvaxWU9j5rG28igE6CH8ruGk42W6S0qjWg4kUq8yTCYKKIaGpA5Z6lodBo_JQlEWxcwn_yyueAXhwTGEZMwAevyHQpy4J__mMTEsiS3Cn_j_y3/s1600/P1016702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfq65raKh-ZRxnA1Yz8yyyoObKtIQrgiSvaxWU9j5rG28igE6CH8ruGk42W6S0qjWg4kUq8yTCYKKIaGpA5Z6lodBo_JQlEWxcwn_yyueAXhwTGEZMwAevyHQpy4J__mMTEsiS3Cn_j_y3/s320/P1016702.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hook Norton Brewery</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwybjxifSZWsCJkJ7qdUqpgRDFczAe4rSpTiSvJDKPG5eoJN3gQIBZTFt9yidXV-KWzoT5Wg8MK1vE3o_7P_ZF-AotCp-CCMKr46gOSXGAbMLq5bwXjnXjRc2yruFo3NLezEUGI1M3-7J/s1600/P1016737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgwybjxifSZWsCJkJ7qdUqpgRDFczAe4rSpTiSvJDKPG5eoJN3gQIBZTFt9yidXV-KWzoT5Wg8MK1vE3o_7P_ZF-AotCp-CCMKr46gOSXGAbMLq5bwXjnXjRc2yruFo3NLezEUGI1M3-7J/s320/P1016737.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Open coolship at top of brewery.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yPBJNVMWLYmLCgjemSp6uiADgb0CzJ0_THQwWdfiDQkxtBy-D0yvjqxD8w8HRHeg1vKQUHGtFcKGR0r7CsEw57ilJMWMV05fPXD1zn8MZbwUuY0i1jDvn5VBJNAWSX5uRgsacKCA491n/s1600/P1016776.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yPBJNVMWLYmLCgjemSp6uiADgb0CzJ0_THQwWdfiDQkxtBy-D0yvjqxD8w8HRHeg1vKQUHGtFcKGR0r7CsEw57ilJMWMV05fPXD1zn8MZbwUuY0i1jDvn5VBJNAWSX5uRgsacKCA491n/s320/P1016776.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brewhouse at Hook Norton.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPQNrirGl304PPrm6NNGMf6_sTCGOG7kKwtTKUcRh-gOtZFujLfmqDFS2wUYHVoEGIsGW2QgCZ70r3HZO35wOjU2NmiAIQ7AEcSwCpcDgLXkTCe_rlWNfH5VHA15dmEqEkdX-gMYx5USc/s1600/P1016782.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPQNrirGl304PPrm6NNGMf6_sTCGOG7kKwtTKUcRh-gOtZFujLfmqDFS2wUYHVoEGIsGW2QgCZ70r3HZO35wOjU2NmiAIQ7AEcSwCpcDgLXkTCe_rlWNfH5VHA15dmEqEkdX-gMYx5USc/s320/P1016782.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Flagship beers at Hook Norton.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG689JCv1rW72KjBe5O8kBstdvht2abMJNEo3t7GaaDWBlU3n-gEULONr4pTKq9HTDU-lQbvzsmoqxoMPYcdWYpjWb2X5Ax4nJiXKU5CFqfwfpm6qnj83k4G2xIC_4wSt7gMJ9oxWbw2f_/s1600/P1016784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG689JCv1rW72KjBe5O8kBstdvht2abMJNEo3t7GaaDWBlU3n-gEULONr4pTKq9HTDU-lQbvzsmoqxoMPYcdWYpjWb2X5Ax4nJiXKU5CFqfwfpm6qnj83k4G2xIC_4wSt7gMJ9oxWbw2f_/s320/P1016784.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Serving a pint...to myself...at Hook Norton.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leaving the brewery at 1pm, having consumed a slightly
substantial amount of beer for the time of day, I returned to Oxford – bus then
train…and took the rest of the afternoon pretty easy. However, I could not let my time in Oxford be
wasted…there were still more pubs to visit.
Once I had completely recovered from the early afternoon drinking, I got
myself a healthy portion of fish and chips at the well-known White Horse Tavern
and sampled a half of Marston’s Christmas Pudding ale. With some food in my belly, I could manage a
couple more pub visits. Next pub was
Turf Tavern – the self-proclaimed education in intoxication – hid amongst the
buildings of Oxford, down a maze of dark alleyways, and comprised of several
connected buildings and two huge beer gardens.
After a pint of the house ale and an interesting conversation with a
fellow solo traveler, I made my way to my final pub of Oxford and the final
experience of my whirlwind tour. The
Bear, Oxford’s oldest pub, having started sometime in the 13th century, now
boasting a very unique interior with displays of thousands of neck ties
covering the walls. I ordered a Gales
HSB stood next to the wood burning fireplace and soaked in the atmosphere –
watching people order at the bar, eavesdropping on a conversation, admiring the
pint in my hand, and then it was empty and my tour had come to an end.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zvZDPKGPOlk4K2auYktfhxu68gtD7Ki28QoN-boqAn2kvfTtd8BtbWLoaxh-jTUSPNaJGAzaHkPYkppjWynQGFOCUtw7SFK0X3lFOmKX9-MWiUV3Zjk7Oe4ZTjLPF6r3GMo2vHegE8A1/s1600/IMG_20151212_200655583.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1zvZDPKGPOlk4K2auYktfhxu68gtD7Ki28QoN-boqAn2kvfTtd8BtbWLoaxh-jTUSPNaJGAzaHkPYkppjWynQGFOCUtw7SFK0X3lFOmKX9-MWiUV3Zjk7Oe4ZTjLPF6r3GMo2vHegE8A1/s320/IMG_20151212_200655583.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">White Horse - Oxford.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk90qUxkjSs5wMo0Jxdq4Y8OwqdrPntZAYgkhQDvC3xMZVmU0k4mhFJN9_rEESWClnZv2E6RXs8Pw6L9FKmcOt88iP4DWe-DxEEmDY8Ei6SRYZfa46AhnfHlukAaTvnRgIT-JRwDwZieos/s1600/IMG_20151212_201928355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk90qUxkjSs5wMo0Jxdq4Y8OwqdrPntZAYgkhQDvC3xMZVmU0k4mhFJN9_rEESWClnZv2E6RXs8Pw6L9FKmcOt88iP4DWe-DxEEmDY8Ei6SRYZfa46AhnfHlukAaTvnRgIT-JRwDwZieos/s320/IMG_20151212_201928355.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turf Tavern - Oxford.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNGISTJNamvRbvD-bOi434s5LJMrR_fWKB7HTcC0H7Br6gQTktMFYgTTE3Kw4b45Qd9C6RGEWnZd1WuCVZbWesSAk-Jqi2BYDwpMMHGX6Wk5KpF8kprVeaNvYiGSZ60WknbqWzC3UL8vf/s1600/P1016812.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNGISTJNamvRbvD-bOi434s5LJMrR_fWKB7HTcC0H7Br6gQTktMFYgTTE3Kw4b45Qd9C6RGEWnZd1WuCVZbWesSAk-Jqi2BYDwpMMHGX6Wk5KpF8kprVeaNvYiGSZ60WknbqWzC3UL8vf/s320/P1016812.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Turf Tavern - Oxford.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9o273EyXaGcuPNdxm8KJz8ykrl2OIIGtzZe2JXgQET2EvubVkUVpeOkExZXE_XekKPGgBd0uk9W_z_YhV-VVzK0S-aNwbEwD0CZWds9Fk3YiAZ8fcbkfsMQfaXazj4t9u5KtDFvr0lY1/s1600/P1016814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9o273EyXaGcuPNdxm8KJz8ykrl2OIIGtzZe2JXgQET2EvubVkUVpeOkExZXE_XekKPGgBd0uk9W_z_YhV-VVzK0S-aNwbEwD0CZWds9Fk3YiAZ8fcbkfsMQfaXazj4t9u5KtDFvr0lY1/s320/P1016814.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Turf Tavern - Oxford.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjij88N1BzdOOHEY4GRqmKo3kbbjGARhzCwlo_Ov28RN2E_qRuIuZkkfd9Dy1iu67ZvB_rnxY-cMNp_ccRWlaAuazbYCyb8nE24wyjZQV02vmgncAsdS-3dAtxrCZpO7V5kVYJJzw_33H3I/s1600/P1016818.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjij88N1BzdOOHEY4GRqmKo3kbbjGARhzCwlo_Ov28RN2E_qRuIuZkkfd9Dy1iu67ZvB_rnxY-cMNp_ccRWlaAuazbYCyb8nE24wyjZQV02vmgncAsdS-3dAtxrCZpO7V5kVYJJzw_33H3I/s320/P1016818.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Turf Tavern - Oxford.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjgwNx9K5_zkei18KfRTkd-1bO-T7rTAI6ZCS_ptlOLWpnkOj4u3kR2T6tWmkailt4RM8idzln8ooF01Yk39WbiKO59gPO6jIFTyCfQ3zSbEC6zscHQTcuxsR9pxBVAIDcmkOjYleVXS9/s1600/P1016825.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjgwNx9K5_zkei18KfRTkd-1bO-T7rTAI6ZCS_ptlOLWpnkOj4u3kR2T6tWmkailt4RM8idzln8ooF01Yk39WbiKO59gPO6jIFTyCfQ3zSbEC6zscHQTcuxsR9pxBVAIDcmkOjYleVXS9/s320/P1016825.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bear - Oxford.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ED-I9EPflJx_-JTqkR47Qft4qXrK7uHAzD-UAYR4HIvzRFZMVseqULozogLNpR3tmtUUVpOku31LdjUl_v5YW8BHUh06MfP6sqqhi8Wy1X1_rctkO5QA9t-EV_9zgOqA46r6ZAEqB_Yn/s1600/P1016820.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ED-I9EPflJx_-JTqkR47Qft4qXrK7uHAzD-UAYR4HIvzRFZMVseqULozogLNpR3tmtUUVpOku31LdjUl_v5YW8BHUh06MfP6sqqhi8Wy1X1_rctkO5QA9t-EV_9zgOqA46r6ZAEqB_Yn/s320/P1016820.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bear - Oxford.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHdivIpK264xfJucONvyIlm0P2bwmL7W0BWpLPbKBl6ypvdybSR4tIHpN6xy7yRdvixvlURpZGcnkc9JggExMf9OqlRQZ1cNCi7oCTYGLk8OZ8Dri3wOyWoAEWUU1UxLioWq891f7p1fAj/s1600/P1016822.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHdivIpK264xfJucONvyIlm0P2bwmL7W0BWpLPbKBl6ypvdybSR4tIHpN6xy7yRdvixvlURpZGcnkc9JggExMf9OqlRQZ1cNCi7oCTYGLk8OZ8Dri3wOyWoAEWUU1UxLioWq891f7p1fAj/s320/P1016822.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The final pint at The Bear.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-33049837160590965222015-12-17T10:10:00.001-08:002015-12-17T10:25:00.205-08:00The Whirlwind Tour Part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Theakston, Black Sheep, Coniston, Timothy Taylor, Wychwood,
Fuller’s, Wadworth, and Hook Norton…the past three weeks of my life – a journey
into the heart and soul of English brewing.
A mixture of large scale and small scale, fully automated and completely
manual brewing, family run businesses and large corporations, historical
Victorian era breweries and the most cutting edge, up to date operations…not
necessarily all directly applicable to our plans for Present Tense,
nonetheless, a valuable journey into understanding the nature of brewing in the
UK.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Apart from working at Rooster’s, visiting pubs, writing a
blog, and traveling on weekends, an inordinate amount of my time in the UK has
been spent emailing breweries, arranging visits, working out logistics of how
to get to said breweries, and on and on.
Many emails went unanswered, but after visiting Fawcett’s Maltsters…the
tides turned for me. Thanks to the
incredible generosity of James Fawcett, he contacted several breweries on my
behalf to suggest that they consider allowing me to visit their brewery. And after that, I had more breweries to visit
than I could manage. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had spent two months working full time at Rooster’s
becoming fairly acquainted with the day to day tasks of the brewery. It had become my routine – getting up at
4:30am, skyping with my girlfriend, packing my lunch, then getting picked up at
6:20 by Oliver and arriving at the brewery around 6:30. A full day of filling casks, cleaning casks,
cleaning the mash tun, cleaning the hop back, getting involved in the brewing
occasionally, canning, and so on – the routine had become comfortable and predictable,
not too many surprises. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then, after 2 months, I faced a brief departure from
Roosters to explore some other breweries across the UK (this conveniently coincided
with my 10 day trip with my lovely girlfriend to Paris, London, and Edinburgh)
and my routine quickly disappeared. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My first trip was with Oliver to visit Theakston and Black
Sheep. This would be my first visit to
Theakston, but my second visit to Black sheep (see Blog 5 – The Sanctuary). Masham, a small village on the edge of the
Yorkshire Dales, is home to both Theakston and Black Sheep. Black Sheep is owned by Paul Theakston and
his two sons, and Theakston is now owned privately after spending a short stint
in the hands of a corporate conglomerate – the relationship between the two
breweries is a little contentious to say the least, but they both make
fantastic beer and are both particularly intriguing from the perspective of a
traditional English brewery enthusiast, such as myself.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5zzA1oNlvkg4XbPRyDmq7HNLyiA5NFIjUXafp_gHPOHo1gu44wf6n8NJ9fSLSmHRRqUwjei8gbZVtm9yPfRHiNzhlzw-UBkyxuak-MyBqa2xGFEuBEHYfhKENt5xJQV1rDJmGyXyjC0f/s1600/IMG_20151123_131153627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL5zzA1oNlvkg4XbPRyDmq7HNLyiA5NFIjUXafp_gHPOHo1gu44wf6n8NJ9fSLSmHRRqUwjei8gbZVtm9yPfRHiNzhlzw-UBkyxuak-MyBqa2xGFEuBEHYfhKENt5xJQV1rDJmGyXyjC0f/s320/IMG_20151123_131153627.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Theakston Brewery - Masham</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasmMcPGJruNTXp1tMe-s7MyGAuS2ZJllLNuckvCLkDt9hO-w_ysIl-T6XocjRk9LWfFXvLVXSJ0lmI1CBe95TO1yrbpJYk-StaXGLLRqfGUUn6smOCJ842SBJjytQoYwMsBYXS5vaedoo/s1600/IMG_20151123_131710286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasmMcPGJruNTXp1tMe-s7MyGAuS2ZJllLNuckvCLkDt9hO-w_ysIl-T6XocjRk9LWfFXvLVXSJ0lmI1CBe95TO1yrbpJYk-StaXGLLRqfGUUn6smOCJ842SBJjytQoYwMsBYXS5vaedoo/s320/IMG_20151123_131710286.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Theakston's original grist hopper and mash tun.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgZSIee0SGFiEh0WBqvE85KIWPYfOpLXDPdDlC1KzyoWvoBWJnOv9l50XeVTSNRLM_0Qw21qAnN3YBHjNELgfOpNyEQtokdn1o47PTmcjTi5QAwx41XkCEL4owqlzBn5DTKiJZ8oXogV-/s1600/IMG_20151123_134335868.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKgZSIee0SGFiEh0WBqvE85KIWPYfOpLXDPdDlC1KzyoWvoBWJnOv9l50XeVTSNRLM_0Qw21qAnN3YBHjNELgfOpNyEQtokdn1o47PTmcjTi5QAwx41XkCEL4owqlzBn5DTKiJZ8oXogV-/s320/IMG_20151123_134335868.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Theakston's fermentation room.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrY8-nJPHrwK7GpxUtnAouGrtKEHGSho39c6iWw7-z_KnrqSAVxj5RVK3l9qsXS5ADz3Ealc93tzzaSKnTcRT-UZnm-rQ_oy9S62oYbucDdvS4YRUgaHvIFIS0Iom_0vrb9-V9U2PfzpXI/s1600/IMG_20151123_135336435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrY8-nJPHrwK7GpxUtnAouGrtKEHGSho39c6iWw7-z_KnrqSAVxj5RVK3l9qsXS5ADz3Ealc93tzzaSKnTcRT-UZnm-rQ_oy9S62oYbucDdvS4YRUgaHvIFIS0Iom_0vrb9-V9U2PfzpXI/s320/IMG_20151123_135336435.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cooper apprentice at Theakston's</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUBfjka4OLcQObyAoXVPBoMdHFBop6ZCmq15tNvEjvkYw7Y_-CvAVGynU4maJjMFlX_9ZzAzJoJrxVBRPmTzSHeHKs7JctoJRAIYds-1BrsOEQeag4y2ek3vnd0RGXmcLx6NWTXDzI8d7/s1600/IMG_20151123_135819636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUBfjka4OLcQObyAoXVPBoMdHFBop6ZCmq15tNvEjvkYw7Y_-CvAVGynU4maJjMFlX_9ZzAzJoJrxVBRPmTzSHeHKs7JctoJRAIYds-1BrsOEQeag4y2ek3vnd0RGXmcLx6NWTXDzI8d7/s320/IMG_20151123_135819636.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sampler flight at Theakston's visitor center.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After my visits to Theakston and Black Sheep, I returned to
Rooster’s for one more day of work followed by one more brewery visit before
taking a bit of a vacation with my girlfriend.
After spending a day filling and cleaning casks, I picked up a rental
car and drove to the Lake District to visit a brewery that I had held in high
esteem for quite a while. Bluebird
Bitter is one of my favorite beers and one of the beers that enlightened me to
the virtues of English ale. Coniston
Brewing Company, a two time Champion Beer of Britain award winner, is the brewery
that brews this incredible beer. The
brewery is family owned and part of a complex of buildings which include a several
hundred year old pub with accommodation and some newly constructed cabins. The brewery is in an old building positioned
right next to a beautiful stream which flows directly into a lake about a half
mile down the hill. I was greeted with
the utmost hospitality – free accommodations, delicious fish and chips dinner, a
few pints, and a full English breakfast and then loaded up with a case of beer
on my way out the next day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYy_tKJCyNWsElZgUbKK2cVzizRNgEF7E3lkTO_sLLymGA4w7XNw-j7S02HlfFScvkJdKyrc23bXTGlsdBNhqcKfVKNwUBoGeQS2XUZyb7RxE8Owgsal7MN7VEhDDf3ZiDC8cN4Ol4xYFu/s1600/P1015455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYy_tKJCyNWsElZgUbKK2cVzizRNgEF7E3lkTO_sLLymGA4w7XNw-j7S02HlfFScvkJdKyrc23bXTGlsdBNhqcKfVKNwUBoGeQS2XUZyb7RxE8Owgsal7MN7VEhDDf3ZiDC8cN4Ol4xYFu/s320/P1015455.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brewhouse at Coniston.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNdbpRv6TkRBw-QKLfGtS44EYx5eOyK9Ys1ROc0ajcTWN2sijO4ZsaIPElbaofYkOPD-La_H3pkmlji-Q69541HfE5iNdggECAElX-ZnoEkvuhm0BANiS7Q3YsItwCT_W4R3K4AxKhjgs/s1600/P1015459.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzNdbpRv6TkRBw-QKLfGtS44EYx5eOyK9Ys1ROc0ajcTWN2sijO4ZsaIPElbaofYkOPD-La_H3pkmlji-Q69541HfE5iNdggECAElX-ZnoEkvuhm0BANiS7Q3YsItwCT_W4R3K4AxKhjgs/s320/P1015459.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coniston Brewing Company</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4J5uJ_E7e-WvuSDKJ4-TDdocp1rbogVtI3_mfPY0F1qlqHGpi3KMoM0GIeFckl0HvTN4iUJy9y6tq6b6yY6opTUF53UcKZur1zB8k5L0Xl3lnl6l078NcAx373qvcuNCvRtbdF18vDSbk/s1600/P1015521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4J5uJ_E7e-WvuSDKJ4-TDdocp1rbogVtI3_mfPY0F1qlqHGpi3KMoM0GIeFckl0HvTN4iUJy9y6tq6b6yY6opTUF53UcKZur1zB8k5L0Xl3lnl6l078NcAx373qvcuNCvRtbdF18vDSbk/s320/P1015521.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Filling the fermenter at end of the brew day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbx_MJcCY_wyJtU7zKzcp-F4Z_1Rhdd11v0dgcrmGlVDKSP6AnXCn6ByOA6vJcfGegkWs_JaaMm__oX82K-UJkTTMq64ESrz9R1Vb50O4xdKpg5C-l_LRMgkgRXX2Zqv9PONFi0PQFnxV6/s1600/P1015470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbx_MJcCY_wyJtU7zKzcp-F4Z_1Rhdd11v0dgcrmGlVDKSP6AnXCn6ByOA6vJcfGegkWs_JaaMm__oX82K-UJkTTMq64ESrz9R1Vb50O4xdKpg5C-l_LRMgkgRXX2Zqv9PONFi0PQFnxV6/s320/P1015470.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Bull Inn at Coniston</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwO71ekWXx-DcH2562OWOl3I9JoO9zhj-5wJXzqzgxqix9nU6KxFl67JT8-8zYvPky7iQRNzJ99aZj-DveDhlOiRcfay9deW3mOq2FG_b62uqfVxGknl4Zlcg2nBo9nX1fzTXNsmrO93Nw/s1600/P1015471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwO71ekWXx-DcH2562OWOl3I9JoO9zhj-5wJXzqzgxqix9nU6KxFl67JT8-8zYvPky7iQRNzJ99aZj-DveDhlOiRcfay9deW3mOq2FG_b62uqfVxGknl4Zlcg2nBo9nX1fzTXNsmrO93Nw/s320/P1015471.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stream with brewery on the right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7CT37UkaR3VCOd8Bg5rc224srPzka6ZLVeqFUoTRIigu9Ic0YFGdZy7uT0jkLAPYFAuytNBUFDRY_FriQZOYp0DFZFJ4fNKjRANKgXXxhjwtMd76gxvLipEAeYBZZkJS-H12qmAvi87g/s1600/P1015491.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7CT37UkaR3VCOd8Bg5rc224srPzka6ZLVeqFUoTRIigu9Ic0YFGdZy7uT0jkLAPYFAuytNBUFDRY_FriQZOYp0DFZFJ4fNKjRANKgXXxhjwtMd76gxvLipEAeYBZZkJS-H12qmAvi87g/s320/P1015491.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hand pumps in Black Bull.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I returned to Harrogate to get packed up for my trip to
Paris. My flight left the following
morning and I landed in Paris…10 days passed – however time wasn’t much of a
consideration at that point, just cherishing the time with my girlfriend.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back at Rooster’s, feeling well rested and completely off of
the previously ingrained routine, I spent one and a half days at the brewery
before visiting an iconic Yorkshire brewery and then leaving again for another
trip. The aforementioned Yorkshire brewery
was none other than Timothy Taylor’s at Knowle Spring Brewery. Oliver, his brother Tom, and myself left the
brewery around 9:30am for Keighley, about a 45 minute drive from
Knaresborough. If you ask any
Yorkshireman what the most well-known, well respected beer in England is, he
would without a doubt say Timothy Taylor’s Landlord. Timothy Taylor’s is one of the rare, traditional, open for well over 100 years, independently owned breweries in the UK that has remained relevant and
completely at the top of their game. In
North Yorkshire, Timothy Taylor’s can be found in any pub worth visiting, but
even with its popularity and acclaim, it has never lost sight of its values –
continuously investing in modern equipment and cutting edge operations – and its
investments have paid off considerably by winning numerous “Champion Beer of
Britain” awards and with Landlord, specifically, having won more awards than
any other beer in the UK. With all that
said, the three of us were like kids in a candy store…utterly ogling at
everything as the head brewer, Andy, showed us around the brewery. Having the opportunity to visit the brewery
was an unbelievable privilege, since it’s not commonly open to the public, but
thanks to Mr. Fawcett, we were blessed with the exclusive access. To cap off our visit, we headed down to the
basement to the cellar to sample the latest batches of Landlord – one being
just a couple days old, the other being a week old. It was an incredible experience, one I will not soon forget.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEoubCAMombyPno9lzBkXf-R3w7_XhzBe9u0KWmp7dREY3OA4z1O8m5cRv3bydx1t0aAIguvX0xW0Cs09hP-UhJAQzBBu6iorfaueR8Jmi94_ggewQX7-xZ1-gQbdSJ6XISycD_r5mgHh/s1600/P1016420+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKEoubCAMombyPno9lzBkXf-R3w7_XhzBe9u0KWmp7dREY3OA4z1O8m5cRv3bydx1t0aAIguvX0xW0Cs09hP-UhJAQzBBu6iorfaueR8Jmi94_ggewQX7-xZ1-gQbdSJ6XISycD_r5mgHh/s320/P1016420+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Timothy Taylor's at Knowle Spring Brewery.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3maagcnjzOJg1ijULjxjEXLep4vZHKl4Dyrc-WWiw4niNSDZw1yr2LuE4bibtYTdqx1b6OVhwU_NOFcEjXDrZje2YX-kjuQGtpZF4tySFu7pROUr8wEu9xKmLYzmbZCJY1Md2NifBXn9D/s1600/P1016431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3maagcnjzOJg1ijULjxjEXLep4vZHKl4Dyrc-WWiw4niNSDZw1yr2LuE4bibtYTdqx1b6OVhwU_NOFcEjXDrZje2YX-kjuQGtpZF4tySFu7pROUr8wEu9xKmLYzmbZCJY1Md2NifBXn9D/s320/P1016431.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buckets o' hops and hopback,</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQr5fhJUkVPIgA8_r8ZgV0QfINMFw5lL_ubBC6B3ub4wBWz5HQ0wpKqxS-uDh3ahc2EQ-YCWpJZkkYNVqY9vf6Qfvtbymu5w7vzmGtV2Tj0kd2NeOEh5tCYdsxVlqgUNboisy7GKSRlw3V/s1600/P1016449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQr5fhJUkVPIgA8_r8ZgV0QfINMFw5lL_ubBC6B3ub4wBWz5HQ0wpKqxS-uDh3ahc2EQ-YCWpJZkkYNVqY9vf6Qfvtbymu5w7vzmGtV2Tj0kd2NeOEh5tCYdsxVlqgUNboisy7GKSRlw3V/s320/P1016449.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy beer in open fermenters.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gP8hq07bnwytkE8kfZ8NoWAarBnbu-bOwsJqYXb2qZ0EJijo-QbDPY287ButaTo0w7nFsrXhVrBoqTvsrclZIAS03bYgp-lm_9_ZbGJ09eKw3lXovLGBFuc-50ueFhgKv1Kk88zt3Lmy/s1600/P1016452.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2gP8hq07bnwytkE8kfZ8NoWAarBnbu-bOwsJqYXb2qZ0EJijo-QbDPY287ButaTo0w7nFsrXhVrBoqTvsrclZIAS03bYgp-lm_9_ZbGJ09eKw3lXovLGBFuc-50ueFhgKv1Kk88zt3Lmy/s320/P1016452.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fermentation room at Timothy Taylor's</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDcxmLzI7KPojQ4Txw5ayubQeRXVmClToLYWiDLuO5hyE3bHg3kZ2-ZEXUh8m6wKpxevNZAeMNScUcfvCOVMqk5HCCCvxtVKLdBJY9_JCfd_F7mLBiIAQIMBQ-lsnl_TIav2dI1_t-2JD0/s1600/P1016481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDcxmLzI7KPojQ4Txw5ayubQeRXVmClToLYWiDLuO5hyE3bHg3kZ2-ZEXUh8m6wKpxevNZAeMNScUcfvCOVMqk5HCCCvxtVKLdBJY9_JCfd_F7mLBiIAQIMBQ-lsnl_TIav2dI1_t-2JD0/s320/P1016481.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1 day old Landlord being poured.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
TO BE CONTINUED… <o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-22629876136656057162015-12-10T07:03:00.001-08:002015-12-10T07:03:43.036-08:00The Deal<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a long two months.
Waking up every morning to Skype with my girlfriend, Huilan, at 5 in the
morning. It was early, but it was always
worth it for her to be the first thing that I saw in the morning. However, I became increasingly eager for the
day to come when we would meet in Paris.
It became our light at the end of the tunnel as the time dragged
on. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The day finally arrived…her flight landing several hours
before mine, I made my way to our AirBnB and found her as cheerful as ever with
a huge smile across her face. It was the
moment that we both had been waiting for.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I had come to the UK intent on discovering the true identity
of English ales, but in so doing, I was putting Huilan through some less than
ideal circumstances. She handled it
better than I could have ever hoped for, and I was thrilled that we could spend
the time together in Europe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We spent four days in Paris, sharing our time together with
several of her friends and a friend from Chicago…simply enjoying the amazing city in
uncharacteristic peace and quiet.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWpJkEh_v91hFyy2cmJVv8dVXF7vpsSENijHUd69tHJ7VzvUlAZCiYB6f6c2ssPaurAeERa5RCruQl90CTGsQ7YqwQNahw_7N-yrpUWlTpe9DbrTlFZHKKoYHhmBaYDYvDhP5bMhsl3Jf/s1600/P1015726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzWpJkEh_v91hFyy2cmJVv8dVXF7vpsSENijHUd69tHJ7VzvUlAZCiYB6f6c2ssPaurAeERa5RCruQl90CTGsQ7YqwQNahw_7N-yrpUWlTpe9DbrTlFZHKKoYHhmBaYDYvDhP5bMhsl3Jf/s320/P1015726.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In front of Sacre Couer in Montmartre.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6kRMdW8PTsltv_2cJ97biUHrF7M5VmkiJXzl4sqpk5ndGinYdXEKPCwODNzLHvwNyY_I1yi8iMIb0LUjyWCQxRhyphenhyphen9Ok9VP4ioZ0_9dfx1zFjWixpGtk-MlErFn0CHxGXQ8CHhb3Gt_0l-/s1600/P1015779.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6kRMdW8PTsltv_2cJ97biUHrF7M5VmkiJXzl4sqpk5ndGinYdXEKPCwODNzLHvwNyY_I1yi8iMIb0LUjyWCQxRhyphenhyphen9Ok9VP4ioZ0_9dfx1zFjWixpGtk-MlErFn0CHxGXQ8CHhb3Gt_0l-/s320/P1015779.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The requisite Eiffel Tower pic.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We then made our way to London…the first opportunity I had to
share the object of my desire with Huilan…the thing that she had been
contending with for my affection for so long – cask beer. I had spent the past two months traveling the
island in search of some of the best real ales and with Huilan now by my side I
was eager for her to share in my joy.
Her eagerness, however, did not seem to be as great as mine. That being said, she endured the numerous pub
visits and pints, and seemed to show interest in the art of cask beer…if not
from a genuine interest, a genuine and considerate attempt to appease my
obvious desire to share this with her. One situation stood out that I feel is worthy
of recounting for the purpose of this blog. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was an unseasonably warm evening in London. We had spent our day at the Tower of London,
wandered around a bit, then popped into the British Museum to catch the “must
sees”. As we left the museum, we were
struggling for ideas of what to do next.
Piccadilly Circus came to my mind…not for any reason in particular,
rather, because I remembered having heard something good about it at one point
in time. So we headed in that direction,
being bombarded with the endlessly intriguing sights and sounds of London from
all directions. We walked through Soho
and Seven Dials, we meandered through Chinatown, we stood like dumbfounded
tourists at the beaming lights of Piccadilly Circus, we window shopped the
numerous high end arcades, and we played around the in the 7-story Christmas
paradise that is Fortnum & Mason. </div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqDDPP3BM2tGaePlo82cRUxHv5StrRGKUxGJ9H1782P6HPozRdb7IZsUvI1440rmuEs4737qcFp4MZKSx2bzPjQ5TNrgkeBK3dLRtYW_1ZQfXIt_lO9g4a1LyDSj-MKzZpcf_5HcTYy1y/s1600/P1016236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiqDDPP3BM2tGaePlo82cRUxHv5StrRGKUxGJ9H1782P6HPozRdb7IZsUvI1440rmuEs4737qcFp4MZKSx2bzPjQ5TNrgkeBK3dLRtYW_1ZQfXIt_lO9g4a1LyDSj-MKzZpcf_5HcTYy1y/s320/P1016236.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chinatown in London</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKsPwjIxZBt4NW7NrofiPbDICK09k3-Kq29tXyxfajjtdDyP2EvqeogwZ9amZMEY2t7Tsmje1l95qB5BajpHEkpXRMs1u20hTvzT9lI5M7ZHZgZWBHvTNmXar3g8PKme9Y1VF8sCN78Uz/s1600/P1016285+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYKsPwjIxZBt4NW7NrofiPbDICK09k3-Kq29tXyxfajjtdDyP2EvqeogwZ9amZMEY2t7Tsmje1l95qB5BajpHEkpXRMs1u20hTvzT9lI5M7ZHZgZWBHvTNmXar3g8PKme9Y1VF8sCN78Uz/s320/P1016285+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas extravanganza at Fortnum &Mason.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfq5BgitCaZL9AhD3LeLfQNW7dzJm5aSeKi5WtrObBo6s8cZJxiCcS3NB2TAwoieTmXicvj-_UeUnjxSuJoQX7I8jKVONMGfwXvW5u9Eo2Yo6EebCsNhjRTSfoxNW0TRxVMi3LKwOJULOd/s1600/P1016242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfq5BgitCaZL9AhD3LeLfQNW7dzJm5aSeKi5WtrObBo6s8cZJxiCcS3NB2TAwoieTmXicvj-_UeUnjxSuJoQX7I8jKVONMGfwXvW5u9Eo2Yo6EebCsNhjRTSfoxNW0TRxVMi3LKwOJULOd/s320/P1016242.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Piccadilly Circus.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After our adventures, naturally, we had developed an
appetite. Ever since our second day in
Paris, hot pot had been on Huilan’s mind. Having just come across a rather impressive
Chinatown, it seemed like we might have a good chance of finding of good place
for hot pot…so, you know what they say…when in London, do as the Chinese do (I
may have misremembered that saying). But
I could not let Huilan get off that easy.
Before agreeing to hot pot (because I am all too aware of what hot pot
turns into with my girlfriend…a drawn out session in the art of gluttony), I had
to strike a deal with her before we fell into a paralyzing food coma. It had been a long day and if we weren’t
careful we would have dinner and then be too tired to do anything else…so it
was necessary to set the expectations for the remainder of the evening – I would
agree to hot pot, if she agreed to visit two pubs afterward. A fair deal in my opinion…I could have
suggested four pubs, but I knew that would have not gone over well, and after
hot pot I don’t think I could have handled that many pubs.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
She agreed, so hot pot commenced. We were treated to some seats in a private
alcove in the basement. We ordered the
unlimited hotpot for two and our first round quickly appeared on our table. Two broths, one spicy and one mild, quickly
began to bubble away in the pot. Thinly
sliced lamb, thinly sliced beef, Chinese mushrooms, some green vegetable
somewhat resembling small branches, thin rice cakes, fish balls, and a bowl of
rice rounded out our first round with a pot of tea to top it off.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Huilan was in heaven and to be honest, I quite enjoyed it
myself…it was delicious, but I couldn’t show my complete pleasure in the meal
so as to keep our deal intact. After one more round we were both sufficiently
stuffed. We had consumed enough food for
four people…we were both feeling the displeasure of overeating and the
exhaustion which reminds you of the work you demand of your body digesting food…but
there was no way I was going to concede my end of the deal. After some subtle hints from my girlfriend of
being completely stuffed and tired and unable to consume anymore…I all too
obviously reminded her of our next destination…the pub.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At this point, I should make it clear that I do have the
most amazing girlfriend. As I have
suggested before, she is incredibly understanding and accepting of me, and she
would have happily joined me at a pub even with no deal in place…as she did
numerous times throughout our trip. But,
on this night, it was more fun to hold this deal over her head as if I had some
control of the situation. When in
reality, it was out of her kindness and generosity that she endured the pubs
and the pints after our enormous hot pot meal.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUAIkcNq7GT6hVIknn12ZviJFZvX5zqtiPmLSvnTet5TbVvw5PZw7edGuCxpWsG6lnSjiDodjIzfnLNWhdAR_5wxwnj84oVqUrQprRJeERKHO62awTrhU3zJRFHRUTrNY6f620LvdmQ5G/s1600/P1016298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFUAIkcNq7GT6hVIknn12ZviJFZvX5zqtiPmLSvnTet5TbVvw5PZw7edGuCxpWsG6lnSjiDodjIzfnLNWhdAR_5wxwnj84oVqUrQprRJeERKHO62awTrhU3zJRFHRUTrNY6f620LvdmQ5G/s320/P1016298.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Coach and Horses - West End London.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So we ventured back through the west end to a pub called
Coach and Horses. It was a small place
filled to the brim with people gathered around a piano being played by a man
with a dark mustache. The overall
atmosphere of the place was jubilant…people singing their hearts out to some
traditional English drinking songs, everyone laughing, drinking, and
singing. From the outside, it seemed
like a very traditional pub claiming to be London’s favorite west end pub, and
I never would have guessed the atmosphere inside. I struggled to order a Pale for myself and a
cider for my girlfriend, working around the tight knit crowd trying not to
interfere in the joyous occasion of a random Wednesday night. We grabbed our pint and a half (I could not
convince my girlfriend of the virtues of a pint) and headed outside since there
was no room on the inside, and we proceeded to revel in what we had just
experienced. It would be the pinnacle of
success of Present Tense to recreate the scene in Coach and Horses that
night. Even though we had only invested
a short time in the pub, we both felt like we had experienced something
incredible…such energy and joy exuding from everyone in the pub…maybe something
that can only happen in London.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Y55rkH1P_kQPK9EVFFmAH1h3Wa4CVDKoJ3gu7I9PuhuwwuOOuohnbwLZMPbDfcle5C-d1LocBPUe1MiAzR4yFO-XXP0kqAgV1IsQtdf41o8wt_aNCM_ZZ5ij2srE_WObBDDOKcCeOlaI/s1600/P1016309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Y55rkH1P_kQPK9EVFFmAH1h3Wa4CVDKoJ3gu7I9PuhuwwuOOuohnbwLZMPbDfcle5C-d1LocBPUe1MiAzR4yFO-XXP0kqAgV1IsQtdf41o8wt_aNCM_ZZ5ij2srE_WObBDDOKcCeOlaI/s320/P1016309.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;">Entrance into The Lamb and Flag.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Having experienced quite a lively pub, we then made our way
to a more relaxed pub, close to where we would get on the train to return to
our AirBnB in Camden Town. The pub was
The Lamb and Flag, a most historical pub once frequented by Charles Dickens
himself. The atmosphere in this pub was
the dramatic opposite of Coach and Horses.
There was no crowd to work around, we walked directly up to the bar and
ordered. I had been put on strict order from
Huilan to order a third for her, since she absolutely could not drink any more
than that. However, the idea of ordering
a third at a pub in London seemed a bit outrageous to me…sure, a half is
acceptable; there are times in life when a pint is just a little too much, but
a third is just like giving up on life.
So I ordered a pint and a half…one pint of Fullers ESB and a half of a
Fullers Pale, and my girlfriend immediately slapped me on the arm…oh well, at
least I still had my dignity with the bartender. We made our way up to the second floor and
nestled into our seats and shared in the general contented feeling of this
pub. Quotes from Dickens scrolling
across the wooden beams, historical pictures all over the walls, old wooden
paneling surrounding the dwellers of the pub…it all came together to make it
obvious that you were joining an institution that had welcomed millions of men
before you and was no longer searching for an identity…it was simply and contentedly
existing as it always has – providing London with a masterful place to enjoy a
pint.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKiVkslKwHk6d-vXC_FsJ76oncu5JUlMCT_kA6bemiat-w29OyikwXP-ws43Oc5xt83-WULw9j5XVk0JU4oP1cFkWyIZPf-cFf-yothYJXVOnYlEq4MeD2mOLkU9W5IZZg-OauXOVT1l_/s1600/P1016313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKiVkslKwHk6d-vXC_FsJ76oncu5JUlMCT_kA6bemiat-w29OyikwXP-ws43Oc5xt83-WULw9j5XVk0JU4oP1cFkWyIZPf-cFf-yothYJXVOnYlEq4MeD2mOLkU9W5IZZg-OauXOVT1l_/s320/P1016313.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The oldest tavern in Covent Garden.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The night drew to an end.
We enjoyed some peaceful conversation…the random type that leaves time
behind when you are sitting next to the person that means the world to you. My pint empty, her half pint with almost
exactly 1/3 left – point taken…she did really only want a third. So I picked up her glass finished off the
beer and took her hand to make our way out of the pub.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUx8XwjyOX_TMO715EjvbYtZb43x1mbLOFpI9rhhqBHXIjvFFTsOqqr5ZQnDa1t441c8fvM30mJchADgYeS1Ys2hVj1aQrvOUClIq12C2NakNg8g1eSh3TDDoR9BoIF6rocw-QRLNNqC-/s1600/P1016311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXUx8XwjyOX_TMO715EjvbYtZb43x1mbLOFpI9rhhqBHXIjvFFTsOqqr5ZQnDa1t441c8fvM30mJchADgYeS1Ys2hVj1aQrvOUClIq12C2NakNg8g1eSh3TDDoR9BoIF6rocw-QRLNNqC-/s320/P1016311.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">A pint and a half in The Lamb and Flag.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
As we walked away from the pub toward the subway, we both
looked back and admired the exquisite façade of the historical pub – the deal
was fulfilled and we were both satisfied with a very memorable night in London.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYY_5yoAUXzcxROJHgc9WfUxAxiyyNMURElHnnX-ZI49-b5WvLZlmbYWFijswnXx-QodbM42KYFJJO6D7j5qrub3SnvUagwbuMesOGv2eq-7wzUE2L_kpMSnbdmVGi_yM26JoG5TrDeuG/s1600/P1016325+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYY_5yoAUXzcxROJHgc9WfUxAxiyyNMURElHnnX-ZI49-b5WvLZlmbYWFijswnXx-QodbM42KYFJJO6D7j5qrub3SnvUagwbuMesOGv2eq-7wzUE2L_kpMSnbdmVGi_yM26JoG5TrDeuG/s320/P1016325+%25282%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The front of The Lamb and Flag.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-36920641064399463092015-11-20T13:38:00.001-08:002015-11-20T13:44:24.200-08:00My story<div class="MsoNormal">
I am writing this in a pub in Knaresborough drinking some of
the finest cask ale in Yorkshire, if not all of the UK. It is a proper experience with a proper pint
– one that everyone should partake in once in their life, in my humble opinion. To appreciate the experience as much as I do,
it has taken years to come to the point of understanding the craft and
understanding the history and traditions that go into each and every pint. This is my story behind my quest to bring
proper English ale to Chicago.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I grew up in a home where alcohol was a dirty word and my
only exposure was from a 20 year old bottle of whisky occasionally taken out of
the cabinet when the cough syrup ran dry.
I was a good boy for most of my childhood, not the result of strict and overbearing
parents; rather, loved by parents who wanted nothing but the best for me, in
turn, turning me into a child who did not want to let my parents down. And so, it wasn’t until I turned 21 that I
tried beer...after shunning it for the entirety of my high school and college
experience…subconsciously judging my peers who let it rule their lives. I eventually found as much, if not more,
fault in myself, and my abstinence from alcohol, as I did in everyone else…the
whole look at the log in your own eye before pointing out the speck of sawdust
in another person’s eye. And so, my
tight grip on the control of my self-righteousness gradually loosened and my
perspective on alcohol dramatically changed.
No longer did I view it as an empty drink that held no worthy value;
instead, I saw in it as an art and a science that provided people enjoyment and
was a vehicle for community and a unifier of humanity throughout history. And so I delved into the world of craft beer,
with a slightly more responsible and thought out approach than most people
begin with.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a few years of being satisfied simply in appreciating
someone else’s craft in a pint glass, the inevitable happened as I ventured
into homebrewing. My experience with
brewing began eight years ago with a basic stove top beginners kit. I was living in Columbus, Ohio at the
time. My roommate had the keen idea one
rainy Saturday of going to the local homebrew store and investing in some basic
brewing equipment. He proposed the idea
to me to go in 50/50 on the purchase. It
didn’t take too much convincing. Our
first batch was a Hefeweizen. Far from
the target Paulaner flavor, it was drinkable…lots of banana and bubblegum
flavor, but we were too naïve to know any difference. I quickly became obsessed and steadily added
more and more equipment allowing me to experiment with progressively more
complex brewing methods and gradually hone in my brewing prowess. My equipment went through bouts of
hibernation as my focus was diverted to other hobbies or interests, but somehow
I always came back to the brewing kit with more intrigue of trying to brew a
perfect beer. Always falling short of
perfect, but always learning along the way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I then moved to Chicago and found an apartment to rent with
a guy who was also a homebrewer and more of beer fanatic than me. Our apartment was filled with brewing
equipment…an entire room dedicated to beer storage, half our fridge filled with
beer, yeast samples, and various bottles of homebrew, a kegerator in our living
room, glassware to suit every type of beer, CO2 tanks, numerous corny kegs, and
on and on. Having lived in Chicago for
quite a while, he took me under his wings to show me the best bars for craft
beer, to connect me with the local homebrew club, to network with local
brewers, and most of all, to expand my knowledge of brewing and beer quality.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the same time, I found a fellow, like minded homebrewer
at the church that I started to attend in Chicago. After only going to the church for a few
weeks, we had already started talking about starting a brewery, and, after
several months we started putting together a brewing system that would be the
envy of many a homebrewer. The pastor
had agreed to let us house the brewery in his garage – a large one car garage
with plenty of room to squeeze our brewing system alongside his Toyota
Sienna. We constructed a control panel
with PID controllers for automatic temperature control. We converted kegs to a hot liquor tun with a
HERMS, a mash tun, and a boil kettle. We
had pumps for transferring from kettle to kettle, refrigerators for fermentation
temperature control, a heated chamber for fermentation during colder months, a
kegerator with three taps, a freezer for hop storage, water filtration, bulk
grain, bulk hops, a dozen corny kegs, The scale of our brewing grew
quickly. We began a regimen of brewing
10 gallon batches every week. Since both
of us had full time jobs, the majority of our work had to be completed on the
weekends, alternating brews every Saturday, using evenings after work to check
fermentation, to bottle beers, to fill growlers for people. We set up a subscription service for people
to have growlers filled on a weekly basis.
We started serving at parties, special events, and company happy
hours. Our church began to have weekly
barbeques during the summer outside of the garage and we strived to have at
least two taps ready every week. Brewing
quickly took over my life – my mind often distracted by what needed to be done
at the brewery, my schedule revolving around brew days. I had found my passion.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This regimen has more or less continued for three
years. That is a bit of a misleading
statement, considering we are only able to brew 5 to 6 months out of the year,
due to the rather harsh weather in Chicago and the uninsulated condition of the
garage. But for the months when it has
been humanly tolerable to brew, we have been brewing…for the past three years.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Our focus has evolved, our beers have changed, our dreams
have been refined, our passion has endured.
Our passion from day one has been English ales – their subtle
complexity, their smooth mouthfeel, their incredible balance of toasty,
biscuity malt, definitive yeast character, and earthy, grassy, citrusy, floral
hops. It has been a bumpy road trying to
convince ourselves that English ales can be successful in Chicago, but our
experience and our assessment of the craft beer market in Chicago has time and
time again reinforced our conviction in English ales. There’s denying that English ales are much
less fashionable than an American IPA or Saison or Sour beer, but what’s the
point of fashion when you just get lost in the crowd. When the experienced craft beer market in
Chicago eventually comes to its senses, there is nothing better that can offer
a welcome respite from the over the top, overbearing, hop drenched beers that
currently dominate the market than an easy drinking, smooth English ale…something
authentic and honest and simple and modest…something served in 20 oz. instead
of a 9 oz. goblet…something able to be drank repeatedly rather than one and
done. We believe in the styles of beer
that we brew and we believe that they deserve more credit and more exposure
than they get in the States. We are not
going to win everyone over, but we continue to be true to what we believe in.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back to my story…off my soapbox…by most people’s standards, the
last three years have been an incredibly comfortable life in Chicago – and to
be honest, a dream and many prayers come true.
I had a great job in an engineering consulting firm, I had a hobby I
loved, I had a great group of friends, I was living in a city that I adored,
and I had met the most amazing girl that understood me and my passion and fully
supported it. So after being blessed
with so much after working so hard to get to that point in my life, it was an
incredibly difficult decision, when the time came, to give it all up. Following
our third summer of brewing, after having arranged an internship opportunity at
a Roosters Brewing Co. in the UK, I decided to temporarily give it all up to become
serious about pushing our brewery to the next level. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am not one to impulsively jump into things. I tend to take things slowly and to think
through things thoroughly. This has
probably been a little frustrating for my business partner, and it has also probably
caused some people to lose interest in what we are doing. But, one thing that I value is authenticity
and genuineness, and a person cannot be guided by authenticity without allowing
the test of time filter out the meaningless from the worthwhile. Unfortunately, fickleness and trendiness is
all too common in craft beer. A
precedent has been set among new breweries in the States that proves it does
not take much prior experience to be successful. Of course, it takes a lot of time and hard
work to develop a brewery that can consistently produce quality beer, but it
seems like most of the time it is enough in today’s market to get by simply by
being a new brewery with some cool branding. However, it is not my intention to
be like every other new brewery. To be
true to myself and to maintain integrity in what we are trying to do, I vowed
to myself and my business partner before we even began to think about opening a
brewery that I would travel to the UK, work in a brewery, and experience real English
beer culture for myself. If we were
going to claim to be a traditional English brewery, we were going to know what
the hell we were talking about.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And so, here I am…a little over half way through my three
months in the UK, working in a brewery, doing the hard work, day in and day out;
spending my free time visiting pubs, trying beer, traveling the UK,
understanding the culture – all with the goal in mind of bringing these unique
English experiences back with me to Chicago and introducing them to people through
our very own brewery - time honored traditions, timeless beer styles, and an
emphasis on enjoying the moment in which you find yourself…the present tense. I have met some incredible people since I
have been here…people that have provided me amazing opportunities to view
things behind the scenes, people that have been eager to answer any and all
questions I have, people that have put me in connection with other helpful
people. It has been a great experience
so far, and it has only strengthened my desire to open a traditional English
style cask brewery in Chicago so that we can give people the opportunity to
experience a proper pint.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISIaW6brjI7oQBBXoiKmJ_Bvo262-UTTMZw0Mirq7PCFKdjY6_fd6BIM8_nj2wQb1OF9lbLT2_QrTo9JGHXT4zPmjA6NmyZAbtbhBcEVN8UTLTuJRsTlklq2fYshT-a0XLP0Rmfid5LWR/s1600/P1015269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISIaW6brjI7oQBBXoiKmJ_Bvo262-UTTMZw0Mirq7PCFKdjY6_fd6BIM8_nj2wQb1OF9lbLT2_QrTo9JGHXT4zPmjA6NmyZAbtbhBcEVN8UTLTuJRsTlklq2fYshT-a0XLP0Rmfid5LWR/s320/P1015269.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Craven Arms - Appletreewick, Yorkshire Dales</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSrM8rKVS03pzgrvpy52xwMnyVrK7hay8pnb1Ir6hg4DDeGs5lrY3AdyXOuHZopVjMFldMfFKFAMzNaLsFxTGNJWux14E7QL4tCwc2WTQ4qwDh_MRpEBUDdK4pTJMxnrVJr4kqfRz7Our/s1600/P1015324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKSrM8rKVS03pzgrvpy52xwMnyVrK7hay8pnb1Ir6hg4DDeGs5lrY3AdyXOuHZopVjMFldMfFKFAMzNaLsFxTGNJWux14E7QL4tCwc2WTQ4qwDh_MRpEBUDdK4pTJMxnrVJr4kqfRz7Our/s320/P1015324.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Timothy Taylor Landlord - The Falcon Inn, Arncliff, Yorkshire Dales</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBafBHMc0ufCWgeAmwQ8psvZMPRbCrQ47TqmqROIIJfSAeJcNWHStbYe2pJqCP2Bp3GoD5NhA0L8j8__y0qdcQBiA6vKQBoiH_dvBq27Uwq5x-LeinCTrj1LN3_anX4wWl5fqI3n26GFz/s1600/IMG_20151024_135541239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfBafBHMc0ufCWgeAmwQ8psvZMPRbCrQ47TqmqROIIJfSAeJcNWHStbYe2pJqCP2Bp3GoD5NhA0L8j8__y0qdcQBiA6vKQBoiH_dvBq27Uwq5x-LeinCTrj1LN3_anX4wWl5fqI3n26GFz/s320/IMG_20151024_135541239.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Burton Ale - The Bridge Inn, Burton</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX9vB6FUWpiC-yaD3QrYmAT2Uay0hk632pZd5-aHskxGDnYCC6QKxdFR-CC6C50vmV69fRgj75FTa0jZ5tYP264drUk56x1feT9j2oJRGjwUeD_cwaCE2UF5et-kPkeBuXwGFXpUP1ZmbZ/s1600/P1015100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX9vB6FUWpiC-yaD3QrYmAT2Uay0hk632pZd5-aHskxGDnYCC6QKxdFR-CC6C50vmV69fRgj75FTa0jZ5tYP264drUk56x1feT9j2oJRGjwUeD_cwaCE2UF5et-kPkeBuXwGFXpUP1ZmbZ/s320/P1015100.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Lion - York</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlTmDqzyNw7oiOQtaleKlTLM2CK2uyPABmIpm9HPgXY233JrVfM7HRNQz3iBeDFvM0lDe_E4bUaRI3PSDmtJGZyVd8RBn8UnQ7scY4kOhS8i2XYHk2EihJTd6aDa37VSVpTyHnLGhlGm49/s1600/IMG_20151009_162747522_HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlTmDqzyNw7oiOQtaleKlTLM2CK2uyPABmIpm9HPgXY233JrVfM7HRNQz3iBeDFvM0lDe_E4bUaRI3PSDmtJGZyVd8RBn8UnQ7scY4kOhS8i2XYHk2EihJTd6aDa37VSVpTyHnLGhlGm49/s320/IMG_20151009_162747522_HDR.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Roosters - Blind Jack's, Knaresborough</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-54169809068270537922015-11-12T11:25:00.000-08:002015-11-12T11:25:00.382-08:00The sanctuary<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a last minute decision. My plans to rent a car and drive around the
Dales had fallen through and I was frantically trying to find something to do
to avoid wasting one of my Saturdays in the UK – an all too common predicament
unfortunately. You might say I am a bit
overwhelmed with the self-imposed objective of experiencing all that the UK has
to offer and becoming an expert in the English beer culture. The options are limitless, the experiences
infinite. Already almost 5 weeks in, I
feel like I have only begun to understand North Yorkshire; and the more I
understand, the more it opens up intriguing aspects of the area that I want to
check out. I am working full time in a
brewery and only have the weekends to travel and experience other parts of the
country, and after working all week, waking up every morning at 4:30am, if I
were completely honest, it takes a lot for me to muster up the energy to fill my
weekends with travelling and making sense of a new destination.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, with my naïve plans of traveling all over the UK taking
in all the sights and tastes seeming a little too ambitious, I reconsidered my
options for this particular Saturday. I
thought a destination a little closer to home was fitting; a brewery perhaps.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Prior to coming to the UK, my understanding of English beer
and brewing was pretty general. Sure,
the uninformed person may have considered me quite knowledgeable, but I tend to
hold myself to a pretty high standard, so I only saw through the lenses of what
I did not know. The things that I did
not know definitely outweighed what I did know.
And what I did know was usually just based on a conjecture – actually,
true of most things in life, until you experience it for yourself, most things
are just based on a conjecture. So my trip to the UK was chockfull of things
that I wanted to learn – but three things had definitely risen to the top: 1)
tasting proper cask beer, 2) experiencing proper pub culture, and 3) seeing a
brewery that used open fermentation, more specifically Yorkshire squares. I had become well versed in the first two,
but up until last Saturday the third had eluded me.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFEYJKTjTXImUsLSVZQt9-8MqMHo2-1QchFizjOt9r8mO2sVi5BlJsOpLTZulNQujlVr1A0Tfi_i99NR80jTdTdml-Jq0TJr_RzVK1mNGUU7iT_s7zbcd2DtqkzoEqpbFIxEhFbjtM1m2/s1600/P1015184+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIFEYJKTjTXImUsLSVZQt9-8MqMHo2-1QchFizjOt9r8mO2sVi5BlJsOpLTZulNQujlVr1A0Tfi_i99NR80jTdTdml-Jq0TJr_RzVK1mNGUU7iT_s7zbcd2DtqkzoEqpbFIxEhFbjtM1m2/s320/P1015184+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Black Sheep Brewery in Masham</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I knew of two independent breweries in the UK that still
used Yorkshire squares. One was Samuel
Smith Brewery in Tadcaster, the UK’s closest thing to Willy Wonka’s factory – a
place that makes some fantastic beer, but a place that is virtually closed off
to the outside world. I had tried every
possible option to get a tour of their facility with absolutely no success; in
fact, I was told that the brewery had not been open to the public for over 10
years. The other brewery was Black Sheep
in Masham – a relatively new brewery, opened in 1992 – a brewery steeped in
tradition, founded by a sixth generation brewer in Masham. Considering that Masham was only 20 miles
from Harrogate, my plans for Saturday quickly fell into place. <o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A little background on Yorkshire squares may be necessary at
this point. There is not much that
differentiates the way that breweries brew beer. Obviously the ingredients change from beer to
beer, each brewery’s process will have its particular nuances, cleanliness
cannot be overemphasized, but at the end of the day, all breweries are
basically just steeping malt in a kettle, draining off the sugary liquid, and boiling
it with the addition of hops. What comes
next is often the secret in a brewery’s recipe – the fermentation – because, in
all actuality, this is the stage that actually makes beer. Most modern breweries use closed top
cylindroconical fermenters – for good reason – they are easy to clean, they produce
consistent results, and their closed construction eliminates any risk of
unwanted things getting into the beer.
Yorkshire squares, on the other hand, are a traditional open top fermentation
vessel, originally made with slate, but now modernized to be made of stainless
steel in a round shape. During the
fermentation, the yeast bubbles up onto a shelf positioned over the beer, and
the beer is repeatedly sprayed onto the yeast sitting on the shelf to
recirculate the beer and rouse the yeast.
Breweries that use them claim that they allow the yeast to produce
flavors during fermentation and gives the beer a distinct full, rounded palate that
cannot be produced in cylindroconical fermenters. However, the benefits of cylindroconical
fermenters are often too enticing for a brewery to consider using Yorkshire
squares, and now their use is primarily relegated to the diehard traditionalists. But tasting a beer fermented using Yorkshire
squares is a beautiful thing – actually, to replicate this flavor and feeling
in a beer is my aspiration for Present Tense – like I have said before…nothing
that is worthwhile in this world comes easy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I scheduled a tour for 3:30 at Black Sheep. Even though Masham was only 20 miles from
Harrogate, it was not an easy trip without a car. A bus ride from Harrogate to Ripon and a taxi
from Ripon to Masham ended up taking over an hour, but I was welcomed into
Masham with a rainbow arching from one end of the sky to the other – a sure
sign that I had made the right decision for my Saturday destination.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifi8wi2s-4fU1sx5Hb9k-FxDBz_ZwiibVnRSHhbem2X4gaaiS_FwoU0gWSefXGMO3laDPsLrKdNoo7IFvzbf6U6EDcwUYhtXAoNUKg32rhzyo46zXMd3Bo-xBxjmpk6jyMOp27X6Uxdk3V/s1600/P1015187+%25282%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifi8wi2s-4fU1sx5Hb9k-FxDBz_ZwiibVnRSHhbem2X4gaaiS_FwoU0gWSefXGMO3laDPsLrKdNoo7IFvzbf6U6EDcwUYhtXAoNUKg32rhzyo46zXMd3Bo-xBxjmpk6jyMOp27X6Uxdk3V/s320/P1015187+%25282%2529.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What welcomed me in Masham</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I arrived with about a 20 minutes to spare before the start
of the tour. I perused the brewery shop
a bit and then thought it appropriate to grab a pint to take with me on the
tour – a chocolate oat stout suited me just fine.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The tour started off with a video explaining the history of
the brewery – an interesting story involving the all too common path of most of
England’s historical breweries – being bought out by a corporate conglomeration
of breweries when times were tough for breweries in the mid-20<sup>th</sup>
century. Paul Theakston, the founder of
Black Sheep and the sixth generation of a brewing dynasty in Masham, just so
happened to be the victim of this buy out.
The namesake brewery, Theakston, was bought out, and instead of giving
into the corporate life, he quit and started his own brewery to continue
brewing the way that he believed in (<a href="https://www.blacksheepbrewery.com/about">https://www.blacksheepbrewery.com/about</a>)
– and, thus, the name of the brewery – Paul being the “black sheep” of the
family.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Following the video was the obligatory explanation of the
brewing process and then the requisite show and tell of the ingredients that go
into beer – probably the 500<sup>th</sup> time I’ve hear that spiel - at least
I had a pint to get me through it. The
presentation eventually ended and the tour commenced - we made our way through
the doorway into the brewery.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOh3ReKuDXLOgxPGnnWvH_SpndPKnzGVCEm9PD2rSsMAXTWEUKZ0eYESQBlvRVvt9aFulV65_v5NisGN-NkEr8eYoLy5lZUek-XaFRmIIZuttPz-uX7FxQODj429PNltxPfpkFEiqnxI1F/s1600/P1015196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOh3ReKuDXLOgxPGnnWvH_SpndPKnzGVCEm9PD2rSsMAXTWEUKZ0eYESQBlvRVvt9aFulV65_v5NisGN-NkEr8eYoLy5lZUek-XaFRmIIZuttPz-uX7FxQODj429PNltxPfpkFEiqnxI1F/s320/P1015196.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of tower brewery at Black Sheep</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Climbing the stairs to a little platform overlooking the
brewery, a tall wooden roof peaked high above us. From this vantage point, the original
brewery, a traditional tower brewery, could be closely examined. The grist hopper, the mash tun, and the
copper kettle – none of the typical stainless steel of modern breweries could
be seen anywhere. This was all original
brewing equipment purchased from a defunct brewery and dropped through the roof
into place – a good indication of this brewery’s adherence to tradition. We then moved onto the adjacent room, the
second brewery, a more modern set up with more of the familiar stainless steel
vessels. Even though some modern
conveniences had been added to the setup, the brewery was full of character,
not similar to any other brewery that I had seen. It had been set up in a repurposed malt house
formerly owned by Lighthouse Brewery, and had made particularly efficient use
of the unconventional space. There is
definitely something to be said about the character of an old brewery compared
with the well laid out and standardized configuration of most modern breweries –
they are definitely more unique and intriguing, however, I am sure much less
convenient.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After listening to the tour guide give a thorough explanation
of the brewery, we finally made our way around the hop back, the mash tun, and
the grist hopper, and opened the door in the back corner of the brewery to discover
the purpose of my visit to this brewery – the fermentation room…the sanctuary
of Yorkshire rounds. It was a gorgeous
sight! Six large, round stainless steel
vessels – three lining the left side of the room and three lining the right
side of the room. On display for all to
see, resting on top of the round vessels, was the yeast; the magical creatures,
the mysterious creators of alcohol, the enigmatic sources of flavor and
character in beer. No need to hide
inside a closed tank, the yeast was able to receive the proper attention it deserved. Completely exposed to the surroundings, open
to all the elements for all to see, with people walking directly above the
vessels, the risk of infection seeming imminent, however, the yeast, kings of
this sanctuary, maintaining the sterile condition of the beer and warding off
any unwelcome guests. A perceived
nightmare to most other brewers, Black Sheep proudly displayed their fermenting
beer in their patented Yorkshire rounds – an unapologetic symbol of the six
generations of brewing that lives on through this tradition.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TAVxwBeQvFZYqE6h9ll7_NL9ID4KYiEHKO8ocdmLAU5iU5CiX3PJrQ7651ZHdNKZyD2-ibovR8Y4C_aAtUnxa5uwbe535yiRapGRVpd8iG1gCXdZzHkpU0F0DBKP4QjLZsvzRPBYAhZv/s1600/P1015222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0TAVxwBeQvFZYqE6h9ll7_NL9ID4KYiEHKO8ocdmLAU5iU5CiX3PJrQ7651ZHdNKZyD2-ibovR8Y4C_aAtUnxa5uwbe535yiRapGRVpd8iG1gCXdZzHkpU0F0DBKP4QjLZsvzRPBYAhZv/s320/P1015222.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yorkshire round at peak of fermentation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpYuo31iLBWVfz_Nk-qy4wAVRTQkK573KPx3AaqW1cPox0VsrPydbpKk5ODSr-Sh-qs4m2aHfgg0mvMQq1Fkyb0I_J0N4MD0NZgcsJJlWAanbZ4RmggJZGXEllYP6maakf7aAQXxLpT-ll/s1600/P1015221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpYuo31iLBWVfz_Nk-qy4wAVRTQkK573KPx3AaqW1cPox0VsrPydbpKk5ODSr-Sh-qs4m2aHfgg0mvMQq1Fkyb0I_J0N4MD0NZgcsJJlWAanbZ4RmggJZGXEllYP6maakf7aAQXxLpT-ll/s320/P1015221.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The sanctuary.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqtp0nsa8oZkHiZghSpi74OZkXqC7HJp1Vcx_xxFbml9d8vd63k4jGOXwWGDIiPNhnVzdxE8o4m8OJjNj7QeTl4L2_DgS6b_O_U2ZePGP1WEdrcRSeSxZ5NnxLu1t_aZom8gg8sz55VmZ/s1600/P1015208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLqtp0nsa8oZkHiZghSpi74OZkXqC7HJp1Vcx_xxFbml9d8vd63k4jGOXwWGDIiPNhnVzdxE8o4m8OJjNj7QeTl4L2_DgS6b_O_U2ZePGP1WEdrcRSeSxZ5NnxLu1t_aZom8gg8sz55VmZ/s320/P1015208.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yorkshire round toward end of fermentation.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was the last person from the group to leave the
fermentation room – it had become quite obvious throughout the duration of the tour
that my interest in what was on display was on a completely different level to
everyone else. With only myself left in
the room, I snapped several more pictures, I breathed in the air, I took mental
notes, I stared deeply into the fluffy, bubbling surface of the yeast –
dreaming of one day making Present Tense beer in these vessels. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I returned to my sense and found my way back to the tour. After a short summary from the tour guide,
the tour was over. The once elusive Yorkshire
square that had been but a picture in a book and a vague entry in Wikipedia, was
no longer just a conjecture. I had seen it
for myself. I had witnessed it in
operation. I had observed its dimensions
and construction. It was now real to me…and
the only appropriate thing to do at that point – enjoy a pint!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_z44ly7rz9HY8QAgKlMsu_eVoDc7KKvbTF41-PEd68s49KnP-7a1HgRGDNG2-7ntO3naby2fuiGMI7yA2hCxke4toQaEx-ZWQi_YNrCXpTfG2duJMU2eAiOZ0-GEU8uFfF30MiQv4Z1S_/s1600/P1015190.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_z44ly7rz9HY8QAgKlMsu_eVoDc7KKvbTF41-PEd68s49KnP-7a1HgRGDNG2-7ntO3naby2fuiGMI7yA2hCxke4toQaEx-ZWQi_YNrCXpTfG2duJMU2eAiOZ0-GEU8uFfF30MiQv4Z1S_/s320/P1015190.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying a pint</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-13003312473663483712015-11-04T12:38:00.001-08:002015-11-04T12:38:43.670-08:00The Pub<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidg0KcC4lT60fWNC7_47afxXVypjoBz0JbvymQHRT7Tys6tPlV8zvrS8RzCEaMj2Yq5t5guwcphRlihf74xSD8cty_AXtb1cuzk-eIlICOHLnjbyj6bg09JvMCHwBfNUhsvWS7cewAX-Pd/s1600/P1014991.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidg0KcC4lT60fWNC7_47afxXVypjoBz0JbvymQHRT7Tys6tPlV8zvrS8RzCEaMj2Yq5t5guwcphRlihf74xSD8cty_AXtb1cuzk-eIlICOHLnjbyj6bg09JvMCHwBfNUhsvWS7cewAX-Pd/s320/P1014991.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golden Fleece - York</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The large block letters illuminated from above by two large lamps,
radiating in the dark street as a beacon of comfort to the weary
sojourners. The name of the establishment
enshrined by some historical significance, but long lost through the
generations of false stories and over embellishments. No doubt, a good reason exists for the name,
but now it just seems like a funny euphemism or novel alliteration; however, it
is the essence of tradition in this land – an eye catching, nonsense name. Jutting out from the ancient building a sign
drops from a wooden beam – many times remade, but always retaining its
character – hand painted, it provides the necessary imagery to explain the name
of this worthy establishment. Completing
the backdrop of this building, a row of flowers dropping down from wooden
planters precisely dividing the second floor from the first in a way that
steals the cartoonish charm from the painted sign and provides a proper garnish
to a proper English pub.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwoW6ryp1o3v0NVBvLMAhdJMIZXTNdIqgED97hSxekw1PweyY8dYK4pSVs_tDC9RxnQNfkLvABQ3WDBsnxZpGadoDCT0MbsFMfKrELe6NSRWLlVoPnbeOLnXvlwMyG8ED9t9A04aeAKqT/s1600/P1015107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwoW6ryp1o3v0NVBvLMAhdJMIZXTNdIqgED97hSxekw1PweyY8dYK4pSVs_tDC9RxnQNfkLvABQ3WDBsnxZpGadoDCT0MbsFMfKrELe6NSRWLlVoPnbeOLnXvlwMyG8ED9t9A04aeAKqT/s320/P1015107.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Bell - York</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The front door, a solid wood door, hewn many ages ago, painted
dark brown with heavy metal fixtures, eeks open to a small foyer presenting two
doors in stark contrast. The right door…the
left door – the ultimate decision. There is certainly a good explanation for
the two separate doors; however, I have yet to hear it. These doors present a confusing option to a
newcomer, but certainly they provide a distinct layout for a very traditional
pub – dividing the pub into two opposing rooms, one noticeably smaller than the
other with the prominently undersized bar situated in the middle, open to both
rooms. There is no attempt at convenience
in this establishment, and because of that it feels as though the privilege is
all yours to be a part of it. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Standing in complete confusion in the foyer, my blank
face snapped back into reality when the right door opened up and a couple guys
walked out, providing me a brief glimpse in the room. I held the door open and gave the lads some
room to exit then proceed to take the opportunity to take up the freshly
vacated spots in packed room. No more
than 10 foot by 10 foot square with a few tables, chairs surrounding them,
cushioned bench seats, upholstered in red cloth, lined the front wall of the
room below large paneled windows looking out onto the street. The dark wood interior, the well-worn, dark
brown painted bar with 6 hand pulls and several taps – it was described as a
characteristic Edwardian interior…whatever that meant. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi239q9EOQZDxxUZxsii5zxJC1KozKArQTIfiZ63ZcFv429-JISRlfpw3QUYch4RQFETKIXr1jtOwY0cyGc2ecyk2Ds0uHhfxKGJbGuq9mTBAr1egLv8upDmTcxWsc2PQozJck5_7cLMuZ_/s1600/P1015092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi239q9EOQZDxxUZxsii5zxJC1KozKArQTIfiZ63ZcFv429-JISRlfpw3QUYch4RQFETKIXr1jtOwY0cyGc2ecyk2Ds0uHhfxKGJbGuq9mTBAr1egLv8upDmTcxWsc2PQozJck5_7cLMuZ_/s320/P1015092.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Bell - York</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Entering through the door, I had to carefully walk around
the man sitting at the round table right in front of the entrance – the
necessary obstacle to maneuver for admission to the bar. Finding my footing and securing a sure stance
to get to the other side of the room – I couldn’t help but feel like I had just
become the center of attention. All eyes
were on me, the new denizen of this hallowed place. The uncomfortableness of the place only
momentary – the stares, not malevolent – simply the nature of a pub. Half the result of the environment – a small
room with towering ceilings which caused an illusion of the walls bending
slightly over everyone to secure them in this cozy, tight knit atmosphere able
to instantly recognize a newcomer. And
half the result of the unspoken creed that a man walking into a pub enters with
respect of the people already investing their time there – the process having
played itself out over and over since the beginning of time… a price of a pint is
the investment, finding a seat secures your contentedness until you chose to
give it up. If I were sitting in the seats
like those staring at me, I would do the exact same thing – stare down the new intruder,
the momentary disruption to the karma of the room. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYO_MlqfqKptgLlq9TLesnRMfrBukFwXwK6fBp5eZ8mtgG6a7YAW5H6gE586G-xlqbks9cSXF8nYLipaBkIzCGiZ3ss9O7fgwLnL50fI9Fd8VFPg0pL2wlRiepW2q1hBira8RH5wcYiWHT/s1600/IMG_20151004_174831480+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYO_MlqfqKptgLlq9TLesnRMfrBukFwXwK6fBp5eZ8mtgG6a7YAW5H6gE586G-xlqbks9cSXF8nYLipaBkIzCGiZ3ss9O7fgwLnL50fI9Fd8VFPg0pL2wlRiepW2q1hBira8RH5wcYiWHT/s320/IMG_20151004_174831480+%25282%2529.jpg" width="195" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A pint of Roosters</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cozied to the bar with as much confidence as I could
muster considering the place being as far from welcoming as possible. The bartender, noticing my gaze upon the beer
options at hand, was instantly at my service… “Ya alright?” – the casual
greeting that inquires of the current state of my being; in other words, “How
are you doing?”…“Do you need anything?”…“How can I help you?” I said, I’ll have a pint of Roosters. The bartender grabs a large glass from behind
the bar and holds it at a slight angle, sparkler near the bottom of the glass,
while the other hand grasps firmly on the top of the black hand pull. The shiny black curved surface of the hand
pull embellished with polished brass trim standing tall on the bar, a sturdy
pump clip snapped around the base of the hand pull labeling the contents
flowing through the lines from the cask in the cellar into the glass. The bartender pulls the top of the hand pull
toward him with a slightly exerted effort, just enough work to require of the
bartender in preparing a proper pint – the dues he pays as a symbol for the
work that was put into the brewing of the beautiful beer – nothing that is
worthwhile in this world is easy. One
pull, beer spraying from the sparkler directly into the bottom of the glass;
two pulls, the beer gradually filling up the clear glass with a swirling dark
golden and creamy white hue; three pulls, rising closer to the top; four pulls,
the creamy head slowly rushing over the edge of the glass. The bartender sets the glass beside the hand
pull and says “That will be three pound sixty.”
I pull out of my wallet five quid and the bartender goes back to collect
my change. I continue to stand and
admire the glass. A pint is a beautiful
thing – blankets of air cascading through the beer as the liquid begins to
settle at the bottom in a crystal clear liquid, a thick creamy head like whipped
cream forming on the top of the beer as the air works its way up to the top of
the glass – floating in waves, swaying to the perfect rhythm of the delicate
body of the beer, the sheets of air layered in the fluidity of the beer to give
a depth and texture that can only be seen to be believed. The bartender tops up the beer with another
half pull to fill the entire glass with a perfectly clear, dark golden beer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCgyrAMfPMNznMs4mf9eqqLBJd_Sufg7JJZCGctjrJEae7_PpN5xW_OL6ieQWiMfNGViFjqPQyfctyERxaLHgumohV6NNm1s2qZuUZTlvyVd1AkLbZ8sgjpc08-u_zQ4OyyPUHTHU1uPj/s1600/P1015099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsCgyrAMfPMNznMs4mf9eqqLBJd_Sufg7JJZCGctjrJEae7_PpN5xW_OL6ieQWiMfNGViFjqPQyfctyERxaLHgumohV6NNm1s2qZuUZTlvyVd1AkLbZ8sgjpc08-u_zQ4OyyPUHTHU1uPj/s320/P1015099.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Red Lion - York</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I find my way to an open seat - open, a generous term. There is space for me, however, in a tiny
room, filled with people, personal space is redefined. Sharing tables with complete strangers
becomes customary, overhearing everyone’s conversation, unavoidable. The one thing uniting everyone – the pint in
hand. I am no longer the center of
attention. I have found my seat. I have paid my dues. I am now one with the crowd, having made the
necessary investment to claim the seat as my own. The pint is now my time piece – instead of a
pile of sand building up in an hour glass, the ever dropping level of liquid in
my glass marks the consumption of my time. With every drink the thick head of foam laces
a beautiful story down the inside of the glass – leaving its indelible mark
full of mystery and intrigue longing to be understood like the lines of a palm. The bottom of the glass is not the end. The bottom of the glass is an opportunity for
a new beginning – the process repeats itself – “Ya alright?”…1,2,3,4 pulls…the
masterpiece paints itself again in the pint glass, and I lose myself in the
moment unfolding all around me in the crowded pub.<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-8538348244379520632015-10-28T15:13:00.001-07:002015-10-28T15:13:35.346-07:00Burton<div class="MsoNormal">
Imagine a place developed from the ground up for the sole
purpose of brewing beer. Its entire
infrastructure developed for making beer.
Its entire population existing to meet the needs of the industry. Its streets, a complex rail system, the life
line of each brewery, delivering raw ingredients, transporting casks, moving
spent grain. Day in and day out, around
the clock, ingredients come in, beer flows out – faster, more efficient. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Prior to my trip to Burton, I knew very little about its
history. I had a general understanding
of its historical significance and its contribution to brewing, but little else. So, I decided to make the trip from Harrogate
to Burton with little expectations for the town, other than to pay homage to a
place that is recognized by most every homebrewer and to visit the National
Brewery Centre. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After a 2.5 hour trip with a transfer at Leeds, I walked off
the train to a sight of a rather aging city under a very grey and gloomy sky;
not very picturesque by any stretch of the imagination, rather, very
unspectacular looking. Dominating the
center of the city was the Molson Coors brewery. Poor choices of exterior materials and a
rather obvious sign of a lack of up keep, the brewery was an ugly
site…enormous, yes, but not much consideration for aesthetics or taste. Walking past the modern, but faded and aging
brewery, I began to see signs of the Burton of the past – large brick
buildings, many sitting vacant, others repurposed for restaurants or a variety
of other needs. The dramatic contrast of
new and old caused me to shake my head…such grand brick buildings, standing for
centuries, built with pride and integrity by the hands of hard working men next
to thrown together metal structures that beg for respect, but with no substance
behind their construction only get a passing glance from a passerby’s brief
recognition of the multinational corporation’s sign bolted onto the black
fence.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnV4pwLSpt1JTJNasjAFWhOJ3qeqVzQHEA576-mFGOcjSX74eVy4_clgb-ceqyNuYWn2RtJcM1NISL6MQ4XrLCQJlogF5yMds2hw7jSUehOX2EXXkzz3bkh9azLGlPwLMVTVlZRYReurGy/s1600/IMG_20151024_094745577.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnV4pwLSpt1JTJNasjAFWhOJ3qeqVzQHEA576-mFGOcjSX74eVy4_clgb-ceqyNuYWn2RtJcM1NISL6MQ4XrLCQJlogF5yMds2hw7jSUehOX2EXXkzz3bkh9azLGlPwLMVTVlZRYReurGy/s320/IMG_20151024_094745577.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Molson Coors Brewery in Burton-on-Trent</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFVnopX0v3z5HPRBX1DTbZDbiWbeO8oX56bbm7ioJUsWoz-LKiyI9JB_e1xnnwo_00vJQkpDMbzO8VlDT8r06xipjYR_meK8DVAk6zSIa8KFvKZCjldYe2RE2qrvZrQXbM23NwoMJk09S/s1600/IMG_20151024_124852009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSFVnopX0v3z5HPRBX1DTbZDbiWbeO8oX56bbm7ioJUsWoz-LKiyI9JB_e1xnnwo_00vJQkpDMbzO8VlDT8r06xipjYR_meK8DVAk6zSIa8KFvKZCjldYe2RE2qrvZrQXbM23NwoMJk09S/s320/IMG_20151024_124852009.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The contrast of new and old in Burton.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This continued to be the trend through the town, one
impressive brick building, surely a remnant of a former brewery, standing next
to a new building of significantly inferior quality and substance. Where there was not a new building, there was
a parking lot. Nothing in particular
stood out about Burton, a city standing in the shadows of its past - a theme
replayed across innumerable cities all over the world. Just like any other former industrial town –
trying to keep up with the present by demolishing one substantial, historical
building after another to make way for a more convenient and suitable
replacement. I eventually made my way to
my destination – the National Brewery Centre.
<o:p></o:p></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQflWwR6q2kvJW_TNeikbLVAnKhntBnw0CMvI7CPVadzuQFz-fPus8C2ktW6qBFgCvJJaVCCgQJS2-TUe5tJ-eyUAVBjwXIoDK72I3fo8eipRckwzY5zpcZLdNDGdwWBGyJFC_ZAR7EnXB/s1600/P1014938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQflWwR6q2kvJW_TNeikbLVAnKhntBnw0CMvI7CPVadzuQFz-fPus8C2ktW6qBFgCvJJaVCCgQJS2-TUe5tJ-eyUAVBjwXIoDK72I3fo8eipRckwzY5zpcZLdNDGdwWBGyJFC_ZAR7EnXB/s320/P1014938.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the buildings of the National Brewery Center,<br />in an original building from the Worthington Brewery.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Housed in a large red brick building situated on the back
corner of the Molson Coors parking lot, the National Brewery Centre recounted
the once flourishing history of the Bass Brewery and its place in the brewing
heritage of Burton-on-Trent. The museum
was enormous spanning across three buildings showing off antique brewing
equipment, beer memorabilia, shire horses, dray carts, vintage delivery trucks,
and on and on. But what stood out to me
the most was a large scale model of the city of Burton in the year 1880. I was in heaven indulging in the historical
artifacts of brewing in Burton, but I was astonished to learn of the massive
influence brewing had on the city – culminating in an unbelievable scale model
of how the city once stood.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNq5fCTKuU3_RGraawSf2-JcoXTqvqx1MzTMfcn6Lkc27eEAjDP76PJd6jUSsCMRPZgQb36gmYIKBM32-wVNMGexPxcduUH83xHMQ2yvtOlkuhNFUtooB-ktb4mzDxkt7fUnxMtaz3vbfD/s1600/P1014922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNq5fCTKuU3_RGraawSf2-JcoXTqvqx1MzTMfcn6Lkc27eEAjDP76PJd6jUSsCMRPZgQb36gmYIKBM32-wVNMGexPxcduUH83xHMQ2yvtOlkuhNFUtooB-ktb4mzDxkt7fUnxMtaz3vbfD/s320/P1014922.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Burton in 1880.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrODtvcfn2YnbC_pWxjv_9L0B_LyfuMiEyEkhkPxsZmZzqTQv80FRhAyPDvLX6YOztwJmcX7E0DCgaUW4n9nT0zvm8Ya19cDAz1GmvhyQBjW93Hga2-iVVuSSXoLLJNj4qpzf56IoRGVp/s1600/P1014917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBrODtvcfn2YnbC_pWxjv_9L0B_LyfuMiEyEkhkPxsZmZzqTQv80FRhAyPDvLX6YOztwJmcX7E0DCgaUW4n9nT0zvm8Ya19cDAz1GmvhyQBjW93Hga2-iVVuSSXoLLJNj4qpzf56IoRGVp/s320/P1014917.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Burton in 1880.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6Nr5LcSzZEzcwglbBYEN0u1ZKb9XUL_s9tv7zbmKyWS52iCHomhT5CbooeJ-Cnpp9Nbbzm2VMGZ5S3-0hNCAxl-8TVB_vZyZ1ZUeaVYELec2hCTdAbhsZvgvFkIBf3vl65OnApySAGV4/s1600/P1014919.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-6Nr5LcSzZEzcwglbBYEN0u1ZKb9XUL_s9tv7zbmKyWS52iCHomhT5CbooeJ-Cnpp9Nbbzm2VMGZ5S3-0hNCAxl-8TVB_vZyZ1ZUeaVYELec2hCTdAbhsZvgvFkIBf3vl65OnApySAGV4/s320/P1014919.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Burton in 1880.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk-zdyD5IegPo9LmFqyc71kEmMERt8ZwFRBcBfSOAiSgcg3EoaR-iMJLHBqGbjOWNlssV-MUZ9YWgJcY1Ea8W7i6HkXyirIntg6C1j1Zb0QQzg9LihPG7kx_fDY9vEjECB7gKMa08YEIsY/s1600/P1014921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk-zdyD5IegPo9LmFqyc71kEmMERt8ZwFRBcBfSOAiSgcg3EoaR-iMJLHBqGbjOWNlssV-MUZ9YWgJcY1Ea8W7i6HkXyirIntg6C1j1Zb0QQzg9LihPG7kx_fDY9vEjECB7gKMa08YEIsY/s320/P1014921.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Burton in 1880.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, going back to that brewing paradise mentioned above,
that place once existed…it was called Burton-on-Trent. Sitting directly above an abundant source of
some of the most perfect brewing water in the world and situated alongside the
River Trent, an important commercial route cutting across England, Burton
established itself as the brewing capital of the world during the 19<sup>th</sup>
century. Dozens of wells scattered
across the town provided the breweries access to the water sitting deep
underground. Complex rail systems
tangled throughout the town linking each brewery to the main rail line. At its peak, over 30 massive breweries called
this place home – producing over a quarter of England’s beer production and
exporting beer all over the world. Each
brewery employed armies of people to address the needs of every aspect of the
brewery – brewers, coopers, construction workers, engineers, clerical workers,
chemists, maltsters, uniform seamstresses, shoe makers, shire horses, and on
and on…each brewery was basically like a little city within a city taking up
dozens of buildings expanding across numerous city blocks. The work was intense, but people flocked to
the city to work in the harsh conditions and keep the industry booming.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Needless to say, my perspective of the unremarkable town
that I had just walked through had dramatically changed in light of the more
informed understanding I had gained of the place and its history. I made my way back through the city, viewing things
through a completely different lens – trying to imagine how the city once was.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The scale model I had seen in the museum was utterly
impressive, the city that I was walking through was not. There were no signs of the rail system that
once filled the streets. There was no
sign of the smoke stacks rising high above the city. And there was no hint of the sweet smell of
brewing in the air. Little remained of
the once thriving industry. Sure, lots
of original brick buildings still stood, but they were all disconnected,
repurposed, and mainly vacant. Sure, brewing
was still a significant part of the city, but the empire that once stood in
Burton had been demolished and replaced with the latest, modern systems able to
produce as much beer in only 1% of the space.
Sure, there still remained some major breweries in the city, but the
craft of brewing had been replaced with the automation of the business of
brewing. The city has continued to limp
along, but years of bad decisions, numerous brewery mergers, and greedy buy
outs has crippled the city and left it only with relics of a once impressive
past.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I continued walking through the city, I came across a pub
called the Bridge Inn. On the front of
the building, it said Burton Bridge Brewery in big block letters, and on a sign
in front of the entrance it said “Now available: Burton Ale”. I quickly decided that it was time for a pint
or two. That was a wise decision. This pub was fantastic, the beer was incredible;
I had discovered a reinvigoration of life into Burton by way of beer. The namesake beer of the city had been
revived by a small brewery keen on continuing the long tradition of making
incredible beer in Burton-on-Trent. And
Burton’s legacy continues…the once booming city full of massive breweries is
birthing a new generation of small scale breweries intent on providing the UK
with amazing beer.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJ1aH_Ql3U6YEkjwhpqGPhqwmi2ZW-zGOlHlFbyaTsu0ZTr3gRE-arOS9DRWJWOr_jBS0_WaKdKKrb8_iiXLYorvzCCDJeofNZyEZVhVGo7gsgKOhW-QtW_CmtGw-8K1wcvNlOkgGrnJ8/s1600/IMG_20151024_141418913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJ1aH_Ql3U6YEkjwhpqGPhqwmi2ZW-zGOlHlFbyaTsu0ZTr3gRE-arOS9DRWJWOr_jBS0_WaKdKKrb8_iiXLYorvzCCDJeofNZyEZVhVGo7gsgKOhW-QtW_CmtGw-8K1wcvNlOkgGrnJ8/s320/IMG_20151024_141418913.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii8lege9khAVg5MJjAI4-WNXkGntKRgz1fsNvLbuT1fHofjwZh1Qp6Io1-8ysdCgRQUduYGb-8utGAOOvq3DtEVVWJL_B72BeKfbFlpgyYskOqXzjEBLcw9Adgjt38GVNpiucCCOcOpL3O/s1600/IMG_20151024_150100583.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii8lege9khAVg5MJjAI4-WNXkGntKRgz1fsNvLbuT1fHofjwZh1Qp6Io1-8ysdCgRQUduYGb-8utGAOOvq3DtEVVWJL_B72BeKfbFlpgyYskOqXzjEBLcw9Adgjt38GVNpiucCCOcOpL3O/s320/IMG_20151024_150100583.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1nTRfrzzVY_2BiAYm3M6-JyYlMAAW6ud66dYbfsTajtQGnCaUNMT3iahH6_l7vRYMo0MhpdaJlpQWSsKWC06XnRWSrwOzchxwOWrn4065HrQ_6-HBzALP-HctRPFT57hH6fVy1dS82nS/s1600/IMG_20151024_150119783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga1nTRfrzzVY_2BiAYm3M6-JyYlMAAW6ud66dYbfsTajtQGnCaUNMT3iahH6_l7vRYMo0MhpdaJlpQWSsKWC06XnRWSrwOzchxwOWrn4065HrQ_6-HBzALP-HctRPFT57hH6fVy1dS82nS/s320/IMG_20151024_150119783.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<o:p></o:p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-20380829127890954712015-10-20T13:07:00.000-07:002015-10-20T13:07:10.833-07:00Where is the traditional?<div class="MsoNormal">
I do not claim to be an expert by any stretch of the
imagination. My experience with beer in
the UK has been limited to one area, North Yorkshire, and for quite a short
amount of time, two weeks, so it is difficult to claim that I have a broad
perspective of the state of the beer industry in the UK. But it is impossible to overlook the fact,
that American craft beer has a profound influence on beer in the UK. I have traveled across an ocean with hopes
of being exposed to traditional English ales served properly in a proper
setting, however, everywhere I go the “craft” beer being served is one
variation after another of an American Pale ale. It is quite obvious that the “cutting edge”
breweries and the craft beer aficionados in the UK have come to reject the traditional
flavors and styles that were once prolific in every pub in the country,
replacing them with the ubiquitous American hop flavor. As I pursue my inspiration for trying to
bring traditional English ales to Chicago, it is becoming more and more
apparent to me that my endeavor may also be helping to preserve an endangered style
in its homeland.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJI1Ufu8GvFrNOaJDFjBa2eROGVaEX1dPbLE1_xIMXrCGpqrdF0a6NKMaB0ff0IIh69N4FtbnGbMsmXRa-JTHZlvUTf8yPEbc6HTNUNrIrSXakhwhprnvsUo2Ll__y_VVWmDvagvRAdh6s/s1600/P1014841.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJI1Ufu8GvFrNOaJDFjBa2eROGVaEX1dPbLE1_xIMXrCGpqrdF0a6NKMaB0ff0IIh69N4FtbnGbMsmXRa-JTHZlvUTf8yPEbc6HTNUNrIrSXakhwhprnvsUo2Ll__y_VVWmDvagvRAdh6s/s320/P1014841.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Angel Inn in Leeds, a very traditional pub and one of many <br />Samuel Smith pubs. Samuel Smith tied houses have changed<br />very little over time, maintaining low prices, but tending <br />to have a questionable reputations with many people. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was naïve to think that the UK that I had read about in literature,
glamorizing the pub culture with hand pumps, casks, and traditional ales, would
be left unchanged in the year 2015. It
is so easy to glamorize a place based on movies and books…to think that those
stories of fiction or those generalized summaries of history carryon through
time unspoiled and are a continuous reality of a place. As I have endured the ever changing landscape
of Chicago, with its fluid trends and fickle consumerism, there was a part of
me that thought there existed across the Atlantic this land of tradition, where
people valued meaningful things and appreciated good, traditional beer. However, just like Chicago, people in the UK
are ever chasing after the latest and greatest, most often overlooking the
traditions that I have come to admire.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRx4-SmBp-XZFj1XKjfVhiAg2gxpmaVjfhYXxcK0rbOwpTvD0ulXc2R_FEu9rW-e_AZk3w_RoLVGHrcCtXrPeU1fbhyphenhyphenrihOpvcdj0VDSHf9udWkeVCvWn_9MLwal9qYJSFsp7fILFUZQt/s1600/P1014735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifRx4-SmBp-XZFj1XKjfVhiAg2gxpmaVjfhYXxcK0rbOwpTvD0ulXc2R_FEu9rW-e_AZk3w_RoLVGHrcCtXrPeU1fbhyphenhyphenrihOpvcdj0VDSHf9udWkeVCvWn_9MLwal9qYJSFsp7fILFUZQt/s320/P1014735.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Crane Bar in Galway, Ireland</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This realization of my naiveté came to me even before I
arrived in the UK. I left Chicago a few
days before I was to start work at the brewery so that I could spend some time
in Ireland. If anyone knows me at all, they
know that I love Irish music – yet another dying tradition in this world. I have sought good Irish music whenever I
have the opportunity. Columbus, OH was a
great place for Irish music. There I
discovered one of my favorite bands, the Drowsy Lads. However, my appreciation for the music always
brought to mind this far off place where Irish jigs and reels were played night
after night to a raucous crowd of pub dwellers whose glasses never ran dry of Guinness…who
reveled in the musicianship and were united by the exuberant energy. Well, come to find out, after a few days
driving around Ireland, seeking the most well-known places for music, these places
no longer exists as they once did. They
have been spoiled by tourists, just like me, sucking out every ounce of
genuineness that remained of the once prolific Irish folk music pubs. What remained were places which catered to
the foreigner, playing well known tunes to a completely detached crowd. Sure Irish folk music still exists and
occasionally glimpses of genuineness shine through in these settings, but the
stories and places that are immortalized in the songs only continue to exist
through the songs…these places have changed just like everywhere else.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCs-wG4E2RQtI8QKFbls5q0aBHmxpZLp6IctihljTku6M6h6pkrlyGbclD8YWsLKZ9Fe4fJbMdbyXt9_n58OK4vl4x0KvU6Jj4dwLMbeYHpBrViG9XzTN4LhOPmLdAWgLWvB4Pw1mLmEEa/s1600/P1014890.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCs-wG4E2RQtI8QKFbls5q0aBHmxpZLp6IctihljTku6M6h6pkrlyGbclD8YWsLKZ9Fe4fJbMdbyXt9_n58OK4vl4x0KvU6Jj4dwLMbeYHpBrViG9XzTN4LhOPmLdAWgLWvB4Pw1mLmEEa/s320/P1014890.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Grove Inn in Leeds, A fine pub with a very <br />cozy, traditional interior.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So with that experience behind me, I headed to the UK –
dreaming of cask ale and lively pubs with <o:p></o:p></div>
dark aging wood interiors, full of
character and soul warming, log burning fireplaces. And what is all too common in my experience
so far…American Pales ales, lots of keg beer, stark white, devoid of character
interiors, and far too few fireplaces. Don’t
get me wrong; traditional places still exist, traditional ales still exist…they
are just much harder to find. They are
no longer the norm, they are now a novelty, a weekend escape, a reminder of
what once was. The UK, at least North
Yorkshire, can no longer be defined by their idyllic portrayal. What has replaced them is simply a sign of
the public’s changing preferences, the society’s acceptance of trend over
substance.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
With my first two weeks in the UK not quite what I had
imagined, I am not disappointed with what I have experienced so far. I continue to seek out substance and genuineness
in the places that I visit. Moments and
places continue to surprise. Whether it
be the dingy pub I walked into that welcomed me in like family or the
incredibly well balanced traditional Mild ale that everyone told me not to get,
I can see and taste hints of the traditional everywhere. Instead of trying to conform this new place
in which I find myself to fit my expectations, I am, instead, trying to
experience everything with an open mind.
I’ll leave it to the movies and history books to paint the pictures of
how life once was, and I will take it upon myself to make the most of the
present and develop my own understanding of the actual place in which I am
blessed to spend the next few months.
Come to think of it, that is quite in line with the meaning of the name
of our brewery – Present Tense.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Traditional or not….I still have an unimaginable supply of amazing
cask ale all around me…and that makes me very happy!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWWLuIQe-mAALarPczyWQqEaW75LY-LYDNw4CBy49S0s0QGXG0J6p_35vG6GoIUpRLknfc_eX_Dh7M-ZpfBo8L4OlGsli9VzvlNugyc_cHZTqIe1H3rYqHA0D-4D2Y5oIcVl1h9phyIx-/s1600/IMG_20151020_205614.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWWLuIQe-mAALarPczyWQqEaW75LY-LYDNw4CBy49S0s0QGXG0J6p_35vG6GoIUpRLknfc_eX_Dh7M-ZpfBo8L4OlGsli9VzvlNugyc_cHZTqIe1H3rYqHA0D-4D2Y5oIcVl1h9phyIx-/s320/IMG_20151020_205614.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Real Ale Festival - Weatherspoon, Harrogate</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6oaR-Mn3ONRo2YOIuU0K9r7tW4HrDRT8PyqwKnc-d0f8RYgLFMXCwmOvHBv1VZ17AMpyxAhON0r_Wzsfx7plLBJJ5exDMEHjZGhVEGghtea2VIwY04lH9iif9EHd07S840ySp4tTe0du/s1600/IMG_20151015_130156949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF6oaR-Mn3ONRo2YOIuU0K9r7tW4HrDRT8PyqwKnc-d0f8RYgLFMXCwmOvHBv1VZ17AMpyxAhON0r_Wzsfx7plLBJJ5exDMEHjZGhVEGghtea2VIwY04lH9iif9EHd07S840ySp4tTe0du/s320/IMG_20151015_130156949.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A very well supplied cellar in Newcastle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-20210541820434175922015-10-13T08:28:00.000-07:002015-10-13T08:28:00.445-07:00The beginning of the next 3 months<div class="MsoNormal">
Standing on Skipton Road at 6:15AM waiting on Oliver to pick
me up, it was all becoming a reality now.
I was finally in the UK. I was
finally starting my first brewery job.
And I had woken up at the god forsaken time of 5am. This was to be my schedule for the next 3
months. A slight change of schedule from
what I had grown accustomed to in Chicago – starting work at 10am. Now by 10am almost half my work day would be
over.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My expectations for the day were not very high. I expected
to be doing basic labor for a while – cask washing, shoveling grain, cleaning,
etc – but I was looking forward to getting past the uncomfortableness of being
the new guy and contributing to the brewery in my own way.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39OL1RL9a83a1_BN_22d5txM485cAMh2qx_gXFUi3EaYWd1VgKQKf5cLXFk5kODFjOMOIu3WAIMEbtRyiscvwJLLY7QR1eZgGbzLr79siz0ighqDqOw2QLaqiBQpqxS_ocLfMa65AOfWY/s1600/IMG_20151009_134925245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39OL1RL9a83a1_BN_22d5txM485cAMh2qx_gXFUi3EaYWd1VgKQKf5cLXFk5kODFjOMOIu3WAIMEbtRyiscvwJLLY7QR1eZgGbzLr79siz0ighqDqOw2QLaqiBQpqxS_ocLfMa65AOfWY/s320/IMG_20151009_134925245.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Casks getting loaded on pallets to be</span></div>
filled with beer the next day.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We arrived at the brewery in about 15 minutes after Oliver picked
me up. The drive from Harrogate to
Knaresborough was surprisingly busy for such an hour – may be the English were
earlier risers than Americans or maybe I just had no idea that people’s days
started much earlier than mine typically had in the past. Oliver and I entered in the side door behind
the massive stainless steel tanks while everyone else was waiting at the front
where two large steel sliding doors opened the brewery up to the world. The brewery was housed in a large steel
structure resembling an airplane hangar – a large half circle corrugated steel
roof extending for nearly a football field’s length.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After I got introduced to everyone, and quickly forgot
everyone’s name, everyone very promptly got to work. Kat fixed coffee and tea for everyone. Everyone had their own steel toe, waterproof
boots and a locker to hold their stuff.
It all operated like a well-oiled machine – everyone had their tasks for
the day and it was just a matter of getting it done that determined the success
of their job. As everyone started
tackling their morning tasks, Oliver gave me a tour. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdANfmozKjBqG-CWJ5gZ-M-FX04N0uLCkbNvamuwovReqwKQoRaCCnllQWaU8jJ1b0KwNMA22f2ne5rNaUv878OjXAqX6tL1WHKMVp_0cxQBGq8A2hWoV9uDHT-SHKp4Qzri8yF-QqJWzX/s1600/IMG_20151005_131607829.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdANfmozKjBqG-CWJ5gZ-M-FX04N0uLCkbNvamuwovReqwKQoRaCCnllQWaU8jJ1b0KwNMA22f2ne5rNaUv878OjXAqX6tL1WHKMVp_0cxQBGq8A2hWoV9uDHT-SHKp4Qzri8yF-QqJWzX/s320/IMG_20151005_131607829.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cask washer beside a wall of casks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The brewery was very orderly and very logically set up. Behind the two massive doors, the casks sat
stacked 4 rows of 6 high. Stacked on
pallets with trays placed between each row, the casks were able to be easily
moved and rearranged as needed. There
were 9 gallon casks, 11 gallon casks, and full 18 gallon casks. Beside the casks was two bathrooms and a
large stainless steel utility sink and dishwasher. Behind the casks was the cask washer. Placed up against the wall, the cask washer
was a 3 cask washer. A cask stand stood
close to the cask washer with a large plastic tub positioned under the stand to
catch the remaining contents of each cask as it was emptied and rinsed. Behind the cask washer on the right side of
the building was a two story structure with the lower level having an enclosed
laboratory making up one room and a supplies closet making up the other. The upper level was used for grain storage
and for access to the top of the mash tun for loading the grain hopper. The 30 barrel brew house stood behind this
with a hot liquor tank, a cold liquor tank, a CIP system, and another hot
liquor tank. On the left side of the
building stood a two story structure with the lower level having a small office
for Oliver positioned adjacent to the kitchen and the upper level housed Tom’s
office. Behind that was a closet for
storing the canning system, filters, and pumps.
Then more cask and can storage and then behind that stood CO2 tanks and
O2 tanks beside a large bright tank for carbonating beer prior to kegging and
canning. 6 large conical fermenters
finished the remainder of the left side of the room across from the brew house. The fermenters were custom made by a local
fabricator with a manway opening at the top for dryhopping. All of this composed the main area of the
brewery. Behind the main area was a two
story cold room. The lower level was
held at cellar temperature for cask conditioning, while the upper level housed
all of the hops at 2 deg C. Finally,
behind the cold storage was a staging area for prepping cask orders for
delivery.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyY3Uq7c9By1gUOnGo2u_XtDn7JGeZHA3p0DDCTpJTbrP09Tcq9Uo8aTl_93k4Bq4QcagqgNXbp_2KVm-4f1MjIw5cv-TPYiQQkpxn064LbCHtvCtHDpYMcId1i6nr7jdZ2K_II11GRlj/s1600/IMG_20151011_143025255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXyY3Uq7c9By1gUOnGo2u_XtDn7JGeZHA3p0DDCTpJTbrP09Tcq9Uo8aTl_93k4Bq4QcagqgNXbp_2KVm-4f1MjIw5cv-TPYiQQkpxn064LbCHtvCtHDpYMcId1i6nr7jdZ2K_II11GRlj/s320/IMG_20151011_143025255.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Research - Hales Pub, Harrogate's <br />oldest pub</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is my world for the next three months. Day in and day out, opportunities will arise
to make me become very familiar with every aspect of the brewery – but for now
my main tasks are washing pallet after pallet of casks, making sure that they
are absolutely spotless on the inside, and filling casks from the fermenters
that stand 12 feet over my head in what seem like a tank of infinite
capacity. Regardless of how menial the
task, I am incredibly grateful for this opportunity. What can I complain about? I am in UK, working for an awesome
brewery…spending my free time “researching” the drinking culture in the UK
while sampling as many cask beers that I can get my hands on. Also, it doesn’t hurt that everyone I have
met so far has been incredibly friendly and accommodating to me and very
curious and supportive of our goals for Present Tense. 3 months is quite a while to be away,
especially when I had to leave someone very special behind, but this is a once
in a lifetime opportunity, and I am doing best to make the most of this
experience and prepare myself to bring a little bit of the UK back to Chicago.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4507088383470653929.post-68289041384551005172015-09-28T14:23:00.001-07:002015-09-28T14:23:58.477-07:00What is Present Tense?Present Tense Fine Ales is an aspiring brewery with the goal of establishing Chicago as a premier destination for real English ales. We have a passion for English beer and culture; admiring the brewing tradition and innovations of the English as well as their pub culture and sense of community.<br />
<br />
The name Present Tense originated from Tyler's love of Pearl Jam and their song by that name but has come to represent so much more than that and the phrase "the present tense" can actually be found throughout literature and history. "Present Tense" is the idea of the here and now, and is a call to not live in regret of the past or in anxiety of the future. It is a charge to be who you are, where you are and with the people you find yourself with. And if you happen to have a pint of beer in your hand, even better.<br />
<br />
The Pulitzer Prize winning author, Annie Dillard, in her 1974 non-fiction narrative "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek," she describes the present in terms of existence and explains that the moment we begin to verbalize the experience in our brain, it is gone. Just a few pages later she goes on by expressing her desire for more time, more now experiences by stating she is "in the market for some present tense." And so are we. Loving and cherishing the present moments we have whether they be alone or with others, staring at a beautiful landscape or listening to a magnificent opera; we are about the present tense and we invite you to join us.<br />
<br />
Our love of beer, and passion for the present is what has driven us to pursue traditional English ales and the pub culture that is so synonymous with that region. These "real ales" were created to be enjoyed over a long period of time accompanying good conversation. Our desire is to create a space, a second home, for people to come and enjoy the present while chatting with old friends or meeting entirely new ones, all with a delicious pint in hand. And here lies the power of the pint. The power to unite complete strangers with the common ground of a pint, and the present.<br />
<br />
So, "present tense" is an ideal, a passion, a journey, a charge, a call to rest. It is a call to remind ourselves and others, that most of the time, all we need to do is slow down and take life in. Stop running from past failure and toward future dreams but live firmly rooted in today and confident that there is no better place to be.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13131658369080210938noreply@blogger.com0