Several mills, granaries, malthouses and brewhouses stood slong the river, with Stourbridge Fair providing a centre of trade for hops, according to Defoe’s Tour Through Great Britain.

In like manner great quantities of heavy goods, and the hops among the rest, are sent from the fair to Lynn by water, and shipped there for the Humber, to Hull, York, etc., and for Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and by Newcastle, even to Scotland itself. Now as there is still no planting of hops in the north, though a great consumption, and the consumption increasing daily, this, says my friend, is one reason why at Stourbridge fair there is so great a demand for the hops. He added, that besides this, there were very few hops, if any worth naming, growing in all the counties even on this side Trent, which were above forty miles from London; those counties depending on Stourbridge fair for their supply, so the counties of Suffolk, Norfolk, Cambridge, Huntingdon, Northampton, Lincoln, Leicester, Rutland, and even to Stafford, Warwick, and Worcestershire, bought most if not all of their hops at Stourbridge fair.
(Defoe, 1722)

The river was also important for transporting beer and the ingredients for making it, and some breweries were built by the river to take advantage of this means of transport.

Undoubtedly some breweries used river transport both for the reciept of barley and malt and for the delivery of beer. Indeed some of the more remote riverside pubs can only have been supplied by river for much of the year (Flood, 1987)

Almost certainly, none of this was in mind when Joe Kennedy from BlackBar Brewery decided to deliver his beer to Cambridge Beer Festival using the river as transport. Perhaps environmental concerns led him to consider punting the beer for the last 3 miles of the journey from the brewery to Jesus Green. More likely it was partly to avoid the city centre traffic and partly as an excuse for a spot of firkin about on the river.

From Spring Lane Field in Grantchester, twenty five firkins were loaded onto an ocean liner of a punt, provided by Scudamores and ably guided downstream by our captain Dan.

With buzzards wheeling overhead, and sedge warblers chattering in the reeds, it took just over an hour for us to calmly glide down the river, save for a bit of effort negotiating the deep water and sharp bend that is Dead Man’s Corner, to arrive at the weir where we were granted shore leave to visit the Mill.

The Mill public house stands overlooking the weir where two mills once stood, Bishop’s Mill and King’s Mill. Lauren generously provided free pints of BlackBar Bitter to any landlubbers who showed up wearing black in support of our efforts, along with a few who weren’t wearing black but were nevertheless keen on free beer.

Refreshed, we then gained a few extra pairs of hands to help roll the casks along the road in front of the Mill, and down the steps to the lower river where our punt was waiting.

We then embarked on the final leg of the journey, gaining a shipmate at Quayside as Louise boarded, with Rich, our photographer, apparently losing his sea legs:

Blackbar encourages responsible drinking

At Jesus lock we unoaded the beer and the casks were forklifted to the beer festival site. All bar one, which Joe took for a quick shred on the skate park:

And then we were finished. Well, Joe at least, and it was off to the Maypole for a final drink. The Maypole will be holding its own beer festival to coincide with the Cambridge Beer Festival, with a new BlackBar Porter on (I was granted a sniff from the FV while at the brewery and if the aroma is anything to go by, it will be a cracking beer).

Thanks to Joe for inviting me along, and to everyone that showed support for HMS BlackBar, particularly Lauren at the Mill, Scudamores and Cambridge CAMRA. Blackbar beers will be available at the beer festival – worth a punt.

Sources:
Peter Bryan – Cambridge, The Shaping of the City (2008)
Alsion Taylor – Cambridge, The Hidden History (1999)
RJ Flood – Cambridge Breweries (1989)
Daniel Defoe – Tour through the Eastern Counties of England (1722)
HMS BlackBar 2013 The Story
Cambridge Beer Festival

Branch Pub of the Year in 2009, the White Horse is a two-bar pub, with a lounge bar and a public bar leading to a pool room and an outdoor area. In the 1850s there were apparently 10 pubs in Swavesey, serving a population of about 1,400. Today only the White Horse survives to serve a population of over 2,500. Even so, like many pubs it is ‘hanging in there’ and needs more support. It no longer opens for lunch from Monday to Thursday, disappointing for the ‘one man and his dog’ that would turn up during those times. It does however, host a series of events throughout the year, recently holding its 13th annual beer festival from 3rd – 6th May, with music, a bbq and over twenty beers including a rare sighting of Elgoods Double Dog strong mild, as well as beers from Salopian, Ossett, Green Jack and local breweries Milton and Moonshine.

It is also the venue for the East Anglian Pinball Show, now in it’s 8th year, taking place from June 28th – 30th 2013. Landlord Will switched on the 1980s pinball machine ‘Night Moves’ in the public bar so we could experience a piece of the action. A ‘sit-down’ table, we sat down on seats made from wooden barrels and played while supping a nice drop of Castle Rock Harvest Pale. The pub has plenty of games – as well as pinball there is bar billiards (the pub has a team in the local league), darts, pool, fruit machines and two TVs showing sport. It is not a ‘Sports Bar’ though, still very much a friendly village pub with a cosy public bar, a place for conversation and good beer.

Less than 10 miles from Cambridge, the pub is just a few minutes from the Guided Bus stop, so is easily reachable by bus or cycle. We visited as it featured on the Ale Trail, but we won’t wait for another excuse to return.

Sources:
Swavesey Pubs History
Cambridge CAMRA

Related posts:
Pubs along the Guided Busway

Cambridge CAMRA Ale Trails 2013

Prompted by the Ale Trails to visit some pubs I haven’t been to or don’t visit often enough, this is another route that follows cycle paths and avoids roads where possible. A fairly easy route, about 15 miles. No punctures on this occasion.

From the Green Dragon, joining the riverside path just past the former Penny Ferry Inn, the path leads to Waterbeach and beyond, but at Baits Bite Lock there’s a bridge over the river Cam and a footpath to Horningsea.

Baits Bite Lock

Before crossing the river, a short detour northwest along Fen Road leads to the Jolly Brewers in Milton.

Jolly Brewers

A recently refurbished, late seventeenth century Inn, it seems there was a brewery here from at least the 1830s, William Essex the brewer and publican, his son Thomas taking over in the 1870s and continuing into the last century. Now a freehouse, I had a drop of Milton Pegasus (when in Milton…), also on – Lord Conrads and two from Greene King.

Crossing the river at Baits Bite Lock, it’s not far to the Plough and Fleece.

Plough and Fleece

Recently awarded Community Pub of the Year (Rural) by Cambridge CAMRA, this pub has been bought from Greene King by the villagers so it can be protected and turned into a freehold (apparently the money has now been raised and the deal agreed, although it’s currently tied to Greene King on a short term lease). It is listed as an 18th century inn, but the building may date back to the 16th century.

Low timber beams, tiled floors and a large fireplace in one room, the rear bar leads to a beer garden with views across the meadows, woodpeckers drumming as I supped a Timothy Taylor Best. I’d be happy if this was my village local.

Bridge Inn, Clayhithe

A short piece of road leads to the Bridge Inn, not part of this year’s Ale Trails, but a landmark along the way. There’s been a pub here since at least the 18th century when the Jack and Eel is recorded, perhaps later rebuilt as the House of Lords, becoming the Clayhithe Bridge Inn in the 1880s. A nice enough pub with a riverside beer garden, a previous pub sign showed a horse and cart crossing an old stone bridge, with a narrowboat on the river – the more recent pub sign has chosen the Cambridge Bridge of Sighs instead. I saw the first swallows of the year here before heading to Waterbeach.

Sun Inn, Waterbeach

The Sun is nearly 250 years old at least, licensed by 1765. It overlooks the village green, opposite the White Horse. A two room pub, the cosy lounge featuring a large fireplace, albeit filled with a collection of empty beer bottles. I had a nice drop of Woodfordes Bure Gold (named after the River Bure which passes within half a mile of the brewery in Norfolk) on the outside seating overlooking the green before heading west to Landbeach, crossing over the A10.

Mere Way between Landbeach and Impington

Past Landbeach, turning south along Mere Way, the Roman Akeman Street, south passing Chivers fruit farm, to Milton Road and a cycle path to Impington and Histon.

Red Lion, Histon

Here since c.1840, the Red Lion is an impressive pub outside and in and serves good beer. There other several other pubs in Histon, all worth a visit, but the Red Lion is hard to beat.

From here it’s an easy ride back to Cambridge, joining the guided busway cycle path at Impington, to Chesterton and the city centre.

Beers range from the sessionable 3.7% ABV Hawkshead Bitter on cask to the ‘hold on to your seats’ 11.6% Rogue Imperial Stout on keg, from the straw-coloured, citrusy George Wright Pipe Dream to the dark, chocolatey Allgates All Black. Local breweries are represented by Bexar County, Blackbar, Brewshed, Buntingford, Fellows, Moonshine, Tydd Steam and Oakham Green Devil, recently awarded Champion Cask Ale at the International Brewing Awards 2013.

There’ll be bands playing throughout the weekend, including a Friday evening gig by Split Whiskers, one of the finest blues bands I’ve seen – Johnny ‘Magic Boy’ Wright’s guitar playing is jaw-droppingly good.

Even getting to the Green Man is a pleasure, a mile long riverside footpath crossing the ‘lazy water meadow’ to the ‘lovely hamlet of Grantchester’

Grantchester! ah, Grantchester!
There’s peace and holy quiet there

…and very good beer.

Next beer festivals at the Green Man:
May 3-6
July 19-21
August 23-27
September 27-29

Green Man. 59 High St, Grantchester, Cambridge CB3 9NF

History in the Haymaking

The Haymakers may date back to at least 1851 when Thomas Keath is listed as a beer retailer, although the pub is not named. By 1869 the Haymakers is named with Thomas Keath the publican and ‘hay dealer’, so it’s possible he gave the pub its name. In the 1850s the Haymakers would have stood opposite two other pubs – the Wheatsheaf on the east corner of Union Lane and the High Street, and the Bleeding Heart/Hart on the east corner of Chapel Street and the High Street. There have been many pubs on the High Street, but only the Haymakers has survived.

The Bleeding Heart may have dated back to at least 1786, possibly becoming the Maltsters Arms (a large malthouse and kiln stood behind the pub, in the area now named Maltsters Way) by the late 1800s, before being converted into a Co-operative store by the 1920s, demolished in the 1970s. The Wheatsheaf has also been demolished and replaced by modern housing.

Prior to the First World War:

“Parish meetings, dances (like the St Patrick’s Night dance) and childrens Christmas parties were held… on occasions, in… the Haymakers public house in the High Street… mass had been celebrated in a room attached to the Co-operative Stores in High Street, Chesterton. This room formerly belonged to an inn known as the bleeding Hart” (Catholics in Cambridge, Nicholas Rogers 2003)

In the late 1800s, the Haymakers publican Robert Green is listed as a “farmer and brewer”, followed in the early 1900s by Charles Green, also a “farmer and brewer”, so it seems possible they supplied their own beer for the pub, although by the 1930s the Haymakers was owned and supplied by the Star Brewery.

Haymakers during WWII

An 83 year old former resident of Chesterton, Peter told me

“The Haymakers was the centre of entertainment in Chesterton. There was music and dancing. Jack Mays would be thumping it out on his accordian, there’d be shouting and balling. It was a rough and rowdy pub. If women were seen going in there, people would turn their noses up at them! It was more gentlemanly in the Wheatsheaf opposite. There was a little island outside the Haymakers at the entrance to Chapel Street, which used to have a Police Box on it.

During the war, it was the hangout of the American Servicemen from G23 Camp (where the Science Park now stands). There’d often be fights between black and white Americans – they had separate nights for a time. The Military Police would go in and sort them out when there was trouble and they’d ban them. After D-Day, the Americans vanished overnight. When I was in the Army Cadet Forces, we’d come out of the drill hall on East Road on Wednesday evenings and walk home past the Haymakers. Sometimes one of us would open the door and throw in a thunderflash. Then there’d be a commotion!”

“It was a rough pub in the sixties too!” another former resident of Chesterton told us. “We hardly came in here, we used to go to the Prince Albert just along the road” (the Prince Albert stood on the same side of the High Street, the next pub west of the Haymakers, it was demolished in the 1970s).

The refurbished Haymakers is certainly not that ‘rough pub’ anymore, but it was ‘the centre of entertainment in Chesterton’ when it reopened this weekend. Long may it reap the rewards.

Bees In The Wall

Built in 1851 as the Exhibition, the pub’s name was changed in 1950 when bees were discovered living in different sections of the walls as the pub was being redecorated. Initially the hives were actually cleared away and the walls sealed up, with 25lbs of honey extracted and used to make mead. However, a couple of years later in 1952, the bees returned and were allowed to remain. The bees still live here and can be seen going in and out of a hole high up on the outside of the building. Apparently upstairs in the private lounge, the landlord can view the nest through glass. They usually swarm once a year around May – on occasions they have left in autumn before returning in spring.

I have to say this pub has been one of the highlights of the Ale Trails for me. I enjoyed an excellent drop of Timothy Taylor Landlord and a friendly chat with Marie, who was happy to explain the history of the pub and the bees. The landlord Lawrie has been here for thirty years making him the second longest serving landlord in Cambridgeshire. A cosy two room pub with a large beer garden bordering the pub’s own wood! I look forward to visiting again soon, perhaps taking the short train journey from Cambridge to Whittlesford, followed by a 30 minute walk to the pub. Marie said they’d had more people passing through on the Ale Trail than in previous years. It was quiet when I visited during a weekday lunchtime, some companies that used to provide lunchtime trade have recently moved out of the area, so I hope more people discover this gem of a pub.

Tickell Arms, Whittlesford

Nearby, the Tickell Arms, formerly the Waggon and Horses from c.1810, is a pub and restaurant that was refurbished and reopend last year. There are usually four real ales on and on May 26th they’ll hold the pub’s first mini beer festival. I enjoyed a Milton Pegasus in the beer garden before cycling further south.

Ickleton Lion

Furthest south of the pubs on the Ale Trails, Ickleton Lion, formerly the Red Lion, is a building thought to date back to the 1700s, with beamed walls and an inglenook fireplace. A pleasant Greene King pub busy with lunchtime diners, I had a rather insipid Old Golden Hen in the beer garden before retracing the route to Duxford.

Plough, Duxford

The Plough, a timber framed pub with a thatched roof and porch, also dates back to the 1700s. I liked this pub and had a decent Adnams bitter – also on were Holdens Golden Glow, Bombardier and two from Everards. By this time I was seeking shelter from the sun so only sat in the beer garden briefly.

Three Horseshoes, Stapleford

Here since the early 1800s, the Three Horseshoes reopened in February, and has been steadily getting busier as word has spread. An unfussy pub, recently refurbished, serving a good range of real ales and bottled beers from around the world.

Route map:

Map of all the Ale Trail pubs (from @YvanSeth)

Sources:
Cambridge CAMRA
Mike Petty – Down Your Way
Roger Protz – Best Pubs in East Anglia
Ted Bruning – Cambridgeshire’s Best Pubs

This year’s Cambridge CAMRA Ale Trail has forty-four pubs to visit over three ‘trails’. There are no routes to follow, just lists of some pubs in the district. Still, it seems like a good excuse to visit some pubs out of town that I haven’t yet got around to, along with some pubs in town I only occasionally visit. After ticking (stamping) off a few pubs in town, I thought I’d better visit some further afield. Intent on avoiding roads where possible, sticking to cyclepaths and footpaths, I cycled out with a photocopy of a piece of OS map. Other than that, I hadn’t really prepared.

The Dykes End pub in the village of Reach is about 13 miles north of Cambridge, that is if your route follows the river Cam downstream and then diverts across tracks alongside old Roman canals and fenland fields.

It was going well until I was within a mile of the pub and decided to detour to see the Devil’s Dyke earthwork from which the pub gets its name. This involved walking my bicycle through a tunnel of blackthorn, hawthorn and wild rose bushes. By the time I reached the pub, both tyres were punctured.

I ordered a pint of Timothy Taylor Landlord and sat in the beer garden considering my plight. Thirteen miles from home with two flat tyres and nothing to fix them. A local cycled up, and as luck would have it he was carrying a repair kit, tyre levers and a pump. “I’ll be back in an hour” he said, “leave them behind the bar and I’ll pick them up later”

When it came to fixing the punctures, having carelessly pulled out and thrown away the thorns, I struggled to find the holes they’d left. I then discovered that the pump adaptor was the wrong size for the valves so I couldn’t get any air in the tyres. Even with a bowl of water from the pub, it took an age to find and fix both punctures. Eventually I left the tools at the bar and paid for another pint so the gent who’d lent them to me had a rewarding drink when he returned. As I asked for directions to the nearest garage so I could get air, facing a two mile walk there, someone at the bar offered to get a foot pump from his garage.

“If you’re going to get a puncture, best place to get one is at a pub” said Simon. “You never know who you’re standing next to in a pub. Could be a dentist, could be someone who can remove a dent from your car…”

…Or someone who can help fix a puncture. Tyres repaired and full of air, I headed home, and feeling luck was on my side after all, detoured to some more beer gardens, at the Red Lion, Swaffham Prior and the White Swan, Quy.

It wasn’t a particularly warm day, yet I arrived home with a sunburn of the intensity I’d forgotten was possible in this country. In April.

But the tyres stayed up.

Pub of the Year – Flying Pig

The Pub of the Year was awarded to the Flying Pig, a pub that dates back to the 1830s but is now under threat of demolition and ‘redevelopment’. Licensees Matt and Justine Hatfield hope the award will strengthen the case against demolition but admit the fate of the pub is out of their hands.

Flying Pig “reaching new heights”

A Lifetime Achievement Award was given to Lawrence Dixon who has spent the last twelve years at the Champion of the Thames, recently took on the Clarendon Arms and is considering taking on a third pub. His speech was the most entertaining of the night, recounting how in his former career as a bookmaker, arriving back from the races late at night, they often didn’t have anywhere to drink – “so I bought the pub”! The Champion of the Thames is now a pub at the heart of the community, he said, a place anyone was welcome to visit for “good beer and a good chat”.

Thanks to Cambridge CAMRA and to the Hopbine for hosting the awards. Here’s a full list of the winners:

Cambridge and District CAMRA award winners 2013:

Brewer Steve Saldana, who came over from Texas and established the brewery with the aim of brewing “aggressive American styled beers”, happened to be in the pub at the time and confirmed the beer was dry hopped with chilis. La Perla Negra En Fuego. It warmed up a cold winter day, a bit too much chili afterburn for my tastes, but Steve later admitted it was too subtle for his tastes. “I really wanted to put twice as many chilis in”.

It turns out that the term ‘aggressive’ doesn’t really do justice to the range of brews, all unfined ‘natural’ beers. Take Vaquero, a 3.7% pale ale with meadowy hops and soft pineapple flavours that’s creamy and sessionable, not so much ‘in yer face’ as ‘down yer neck’. Apparently though, this is down to pulling the punches again – “It’s barely stronger than water” says Steve.

We visited the brewery, housed in a unit on an industrial estate in Peterborough, on a grey, rainy Sunday in March. It’s hardly an inspiring location for inspired beers to originate from. I almost expected we’d find it in a patch of piney woods and prairie that beers like ‘San Jacinto’ and ‘Seis-Banderas’ evoke.

“We’ve got work to do” he said, handing us empty pint glasses. It turned out the ‘work’ involved pouring beer, drinking beer and talking about beer. The most enjoyable was ‘Come And Take It’, a strong, bitter, hop forward IPA, hazy with Apollo hops and bursting with juicy grapefruit and sherbet.

Then came another chili challenge, taking a base beer and adding first Cascavel and then Hatch chilis, each addition lifting the beer and lingering longer on the tongue. Experimenting is at the heart of this brewery; stressing yeast to get the banana flavours in the Chocolate Covered Banana Strong Mild, investing in a smoker for the forthcoming mesquite smoked beers. There are hits and misses, such is the nature of experimentation, but this is preferable to playing it safe.

The biggest challenge seems to be convincing other people to drink these unfined beers, because unfined beers can be cloudy, and cloudy beer is apparently not always well received. This is understandable given that it can indicate bad beer, or point to poor cellarmanship. But what about beer that’s intentionally cloudy, unfined and therefore naturally hazy? To change the perception that cloudy beer is bad beer, ideally the brewer would be there at the point of sale, or at the point where a dubious looking beer is returned to the bar, to step in and explain why the beer looks like that. Which is exactly what Steve sometimes finds himself doing, overhearing feedback on his beer at festivals and in pubs, and offering an explanation as to the merits of misty beer.

The proof of the pudding is in the eating. Seis Banderas, a strong, chocolatey stout with vinous, dark berry flavours emerging from the depths might appear murky, but therein lies the magic.

Plans are afoot for Bexar County Brewery beers to be served at the Alexandra Arms and other Cambridge pubs. In the meantime, they’re due to feature at the following events:

29 March – 1 April: Green Man, Grantchester – Easter Beer Festival (Come and Take It, Chocolate Covered Banana Mild)
17 April: Meet the Brewer at The Mill, Cambridge
20-25 May: Cambridge Beer Festival

It turns out I’m not alone in hoarding beer and taking some sort of beer audit, with responses covering varying degrees of accountancy, and ‘cellars’ with volumes ranging from Beer Runner’s three bottles or Booze, Beats & Bites pack of Carling in the fridge, through to Brookston Beer Bulletin‘s purpose built cellar “cut into the side of a hill, with a gravel floor, with a raised brick floor running around the four walls.” It seems most people at least took this month’s session as an excuse to take stock of the beers they store, even if this was simply looking at what they had and, as Appellation Beer says, “just thinking about it”.

Auditing

Whilst my own beer audits really just involve having a good rummage through the cupboards and staring at the bottles for a while, the session revealed various degrees of accountancy, from cataloguing and updating spreadsheets, to Appelations “just thinking about it”. Some are fastidious with their auditing – Sheppy’s Blog knows “at all times more or less what beers I have in my ‘cellar’ – online at the SheppyBrew Beer Inventory” while Beer Search Party says “after reading the topic, the first thing I did was update my excel spreadsheet that has the relevant details on my ‘collection’”

Home Brew Manual created a graphical overview of his cellar

… while This is Why I’m Drunk mocked up an actual audit form for the occasion:

Then there are those who don’t do audits, preferring to have a stash of beer whose contents remain a surprise.

I Dream Of Brewery emphatically states “I do not do beer audits, I do however keep a lot of beer on hand leaving exactly what, where and how much as a mystery.”

A Good Beer Blog too has “no plan. I buy and forget. I actually like to hide stuff on myself. I hide stuff behind stuff.”

Hoarding

Beer it seems is not just for drinking, it’s for acquiring. Most of the responses talked about a collection of beer, however small.

For some, this is almost accidental. Brookston Beer Bulletin says “The funny thing is, I never really set out to build a collection of aging beer, it just sort of happened.”

Alcofrolic Chap too has a hoard of beer “aged accidentally by buying too much of the stuff. Bottles appear to multiply like rabbits behind a tacky retro home bar.”

Knittles and Beer echoes this accidental cellaring, “It’s not really the cellar, but some of it sure does hang around a while”

Disappointingly, it can also be a consequence of ending up with beer you simply don’t enjoy drinking. A Beer In Hand has, in his cellar “some stuff I have no inclination to drink (maybe 10 years on it will make it good-because I hated it the first time).” This rings true for me – each Christmas for the past few years I’ve tried again to enjoy another 2009 Anchor Christmas Ale. The last bottle has been pushed to the back of the cupboard so at some point in the future I can probably confirm again that I don’t like it!

Juan’s home Brewery too reflects on how a beer he doesn’t like becomes an aged beer. “I still have it – and, now that I come to think of it, several more in the shed – left from a case I won at a homebrew club drawing two Christmases ago.”

For some, myself included, there is a compulsion to buy beer, even when there are hundreds of bottles hoarded away. Beer Is Your Friend reflects on the “need to keep buying (or, in the case of homebrew, making) more” even when “there is scads of it” already to hand.” ALE is GooD admits too that “most of the beers in this house are backlog.”

Alcofrolic Chap frequently breaks his “promise of not buying any more until a substantial dent has been made in the stash – broken when a new load of imported beers appear on a mail order drinks website, or a UK brewer releases a new bottled brew.”

FBTE also admits to being “a good collector of beer – I definitely buy more beer than I drink”

What drives this compulsion? Beer Bar Band says “We love to hold onto special beers, hoarding bottles for the joy of rediscovering them another time or to show off long lost beers”

For Beer Is Your Friend the need arises from the fear of missing out, worrying “about rare beers that I’ll never be able to have another bottle. The zombie apocalypse might happen tomorrow and, instead of worrying about not being bitten, I’ll be thinking about that IPA I should have bought when I had the chance.”

What happens to this beer once it is stored? “It sits in the fridge. And, in most cases, gets pushed further and further to the back with each new addition.”

Many seem to suffer something akin to the plight of Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner, with beer “everywhere, nor any drop to drink”

Good Morning Has over a hundred beers “earmarked for certain occasions” but still wishes he “had one to drink now”

Beer Bar Band is forever conflicted over “the ‘why’ I do store beers, and the ‘how’ of avoiding falling into the trap of never having the right moment to drink those beers… waiting for that ‘very special moment’ to crack that very special beer that we are saving. Too often I close the door again without removing a bottle. ‘The time, the moment, the place are not right in this instance,’ argues the hoarding side of my brain.”

Brookston Beer Bulletin adds “What I really need, apart from a serious audit of what’s down there, is more excuses to open the bottles.”

Growler Fills also needs more excuses to open the bottles, and suggests that saving beers for special occasions hasn’t worked for him, since it turns out that there simply aren’t that many special occasions. “Amazingly, even with relatively few ‘special occasions’ and far too many in that category, I still stand there staring at the fridge trying to decide if that particular day is special enough to open this beer or that beer.”

Ageing

So while for some, beer is kept for a long time through a failure to find the right time to drink it, for others beer is aged with intent. However, as Beer Bar Band cautions, “experimenting with the merits of aging beer… is a gamble” and that by and large beer is best drunk fresh.

Appellation Beer agrees, suggesting that aged beer can have merit, but “more often, you’ll screw it up. Age does not make most wine better. It certainly does not make most beer better”

Growler Fills also contemplates “the whole cellaring thing. If Abyss tastes this good now, just wait until you cellar it for a year or two! At least that’s the thinking. It is indeed fun to crack open a beer that’s been in the cellar for few years or even a decade or two. But I’m finding that aside from the novelty factor and occasionally enjoying a multi-year vertical of the same beer, the ‘wow’ factor is rare.”

Yvan at ALE is GooD, hooked into hoarding beer by BrewDog and their early Abstrakt series, has up to 300 beers at times, yet finds that with ageing beer “the risk is high… but sometimes the rewards are too. Some of the aged Abstrakts and Hardknotts I have had have transcended their ‘fresh’ form and become quite stunning. Some others have died horribly, become wraith-like shadows of their former selves or actually just plain foul.”

10th Day Brewing controls this somewhat by sampling them “at different ages and making note of the changes that transpire,” adding “Sometimes I miss out when a batch has reached a really great age. I see this quite often with ciders. There is a certain point when the character of the batch turns a corner. Before this moment the cider was decent. But after this point it becomes sublime. There is a lesson in this. Letting your work reach maturity teaches us patience. With patience we can reap rewards that far exceed our expectations.”

Drink it now!

What’s required then is a system, or perhaps simply buying beer to drink.

Marrying auditing beer with drinking it, Beer Search Party attempts to solve it by adding a new column to his spreadsheet.

“That column is ‘better drink by’. And it is an addition that I should have started tracking from purchased for the cellar, bottle #1. And I now believe it is the third most important piece of cellaring technique behind storage and picking beers that can actually age.That may sound a little too much like accounting and less fun and spontaneous but it might save people from skipping over a beer that was at its peak for one that could have chilled longer. And all it requires is a little extra research and some Excel spreadsheet sorting skills.”

Brookston Beer Bulletin too talks about “segregating the aging beer meant to be saved from the beer ready to drink now.”

Beer Nut too aknowledges “I’ve already missed the best of one Belgian IPA through my slow drinking habits. What’s required is a constant audit of what’s old, and what needs to be consumed sooner rather than later.”

Beer Is Your Friend says “I don’t get the whole thing about trying to age beer. Well, not intentionally anyway, as part of that week-long What’s in the Fridge experiment I found at least one beer I’d bought a year ago. Still tasted good.”

Jon at the Brew Site notes that this month marked the 6th anniversary of The Session, and he heasn’t missed one yet! His impressive collection includes ageing bottles of Deschutes and “A couple of ’90s or early ’00s bottles of Thomas Hardy’s Ale (which I will probably never drink, at least until I’m very old)” However, in recent years he’s “come to realize (or perhaps ‘accept’ is the more accurate term) that while some beers will do well with some aging, at its core beer is meant to be drank, and storing bottles of great beer away just to look at once in awhile just won’t do. They need to be opened. Enjoyed.”

“I need to let go a little bit and, you know, drink the beer.”

Booze, Beats and Bites and Homebrew Manual have another approach – buy to drink. “There’s also the fact that I’m not a beer hoarder and don’t buy bottles to lay down. Bought beer has a quick turnaround and is usually drunk the same day.”

Conclusion

It was fascinating and occasionally mouthwatering reading through the responses. I was glad to discover I wasn’t alone in haording beer, counting my beer, and then failing to drink it. But I also want a less precious relationship with beer, that some have managed, where beer doesn’t become too special to drink. I’m not disciplined enough to have a ‘new beer-free’ month (and, it turns out, neither is Beer Is Your Friend) but I will determine to drink rather than hoard. Then again, if I had that bottle of 1968 Hardy’s Ale, would I really just crack it open without ceremony?

While I ponder that, I’ll crack open a bottle that has sat in the cupboard for too long already.

Or… maybe I’ll leave it just a little while longer… I might not enjoy it

Thank you to everyone that contributed, I enjoyed perusing the posts. Cheers!