Good afternooo
apologies for the slightly lame title -I was going to make it even more icky with "Family Christmas Meal Pub Crawl" until I saw sense. This is still a bit weak I admit but its a good reflection of the event that am about to describe....
We were meeting early this year - at noon. Initially this was to allow WF to drive back before 16.00 in the light but in the end WK picked him up in his car before dropping Dad at the pub, driving back to Crookes and walking back to the Sportsman at Crosspool. WF got a taxi later. Admittedly its an Ember Inns pub but they sell a few decent beers and the meal was. in comparison with town based offerings, a bit of a winner for twelve pounds. As always myself Matty and Tash were ever so slightly late - I walked down to Darnall to get twenty pound out and to buy a weekly pass but there was a problem with the cash machine. Although I knew I had sufficient funds in my account I got just two pounds out at the Post office and headed into town after a lengthy wait for 11.50. Luckily Tash and Matt picked me up at 11.58 on West Street in a taxi they had got and we were there by just gone ten past.
Ale wise there was a Black Sheep IPA, Moonshine, Thornbridge Jaipur and the excellent Fyne Ales Jarl. Always a favourite drop I had two pints of this as well as a a pint of Jaipur. all of which were delicious. WF complained about his Jarl to WK who asked me to come and try it - it tasted exactly the same as mine. It was when I told him this that he admitted it was too cold and that he didn't like cold beer. Am sure when he was drinking off Sam Smiths at the Abbey pub outside Derby the temperature hadn't been considered and I have to admit that pale hoppy beers do taste far better with a light chill. Mine was ace! Meanwhile the meal was OK and we were there nearly three and a half hours before M+M dove off and took the two Wees to WK's house for Dad to wait for a taxi. Me Tash and Matty walked back through the cemetery to Crookes where we popped in the Punch Bowl.
I have been reasonably impressed with its turn around since True North took it over but alas we found that they were trying to sell some rank and off Blue Bee Stout - Matty asked for a taste and pulled a deep grimace as he smelled it and tasted it - he pre-warned me but that didn't prepare me for the vile smell never mind the taste. When I pointed out to the girl behind the bar that the stout was off she didn't taste it instead claiming that "they always taste weird to me". An amazing response, which I would like to think is especially disrespectful to Josh and the others involved with the brewery. I did not check that they had taken it off when I left but am guessing that the person I pointed out the issue to neither cared about her clients or understood beer sufficiently to bother.
Nipping across the road to Two Sheds we bought Tash a couple of glasses of mulled Wine and I had an excellent pint of North Brewing Sputnik Pale, whilst Keet and Matty had the Janet Street Porter. I had two excellent pints of the Sputnik which was on fine form and the others enjoyed their drinks too. Matty and WK nipped back to his next whilst me and Tash headed into Town to pop in Cavells to use the loo, and to get Tash a large white wine and myself a pint of something about 5.5% After a quick catch up Tash got the tram home and I wandered down to Bar Stewards to have another pint of the 5.7% Blue Bee IPA on cask, and kept perfectly, along with a few halves on keg. As always I bumped into a few mates and caught the bus back at about 23.00. I may even have treated myself to a can of Pressure Drop when I got in, although, as with a number of happenstances, my memories remain unclear....
Overall though this was a great day out and despite the grimness of the Punch Bowl all the pubs involved kept excellent beers. Am out in Crookes again tonight for a couple to catch up with fab folk from the past as well as Wee Keefy and am really looking forward to a return trip to the Hallamshire House.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
Showing posts with label Wee Beefy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wee Beefy. Show all posts
Saturday, 28 December 2019
Monday, 16 July 2018
A very wet week in sunny Sheffield
Hulloo,
just an advisory note readers, the following tome contains multiple references to and details of EXCESSIVE consumption of luffly bose. And not just ordinary bose. Naeow. Proppah bose. I digress, of course, but here are some details of what some of my dear friends told me happened during that mad week last month.....
Last month, and the period thereafter, has been hot. So eagle eyed readers will notice what I have done. Its an joge. A play on words if yer like. because the weather....was not wet. Its just that my actions were primarily aqueous.....
It began....in Shakespeares. As, indeed, did everything. When the first wriggling atoms of life splashed free into the furthest pool of life's construction, that, was in Shakespeares. Absurd, admittedly, but you can see where my allegiances lie. Its not my second home for nothing. Its all Earth's lifes second home.
Adam had put on North Brewery Transmission American pale at 6.9% on cask, one of the world's best beers, on. I arrived for my crapulent downfall at 15.07 with S.o.J, soon joined by Helen and Chris and Malc, and had a pint. And then another. Other than the first I paid for none. And still the 568mls of joy came unabated. Carried away on a tide of friends kindness and nobody knowing who the delicious pints were for, I probably had six. Or seven. Or more...
One surprising side effect of this bibulus undertaking is that I became hammered. So much so that I "briefly" nodded off. Indeed, am still hearing about persons who turned up at or around 20.30 whom I have no recollection of seeing. Steve took me to the loo. And I dare not report what WK had to explain away about my trousers as I tried to leave for the taxi.
The next day, having somehow not died, I awoke earlyish to find Matty strimming the lawn in drizzle, and friends and WF started to congregate to board a minibus driven by Paddington. Having been too destroyed to read my Faceache messages I hadn't realised we were meeting on the main road. WF was not impressed. Although, WK offered to drive his car to him, pick him up. drop him at the bus and then drive back, park the car and run back. WF was having none of it. We left 40 minutes late.
Arriving at the Ye Olde Rock Inne at Upper Hulme at 13.00 we soon ordered food and all had fabulous meals and mainly numerous pints of Wincle Sir Phillip. Excellent snap, even if the mobile phone bound lass behind the bar never collected our plates in the hour following our meal. Heading through excellent countryside back to Sheffield, we stopped at Tescos Abbeydale, where me and Davefomtshop walked there for me to buy bose and WF embarked on a tri-millennial dawdle to the loos. We arrived back home late, with WF half asleep, to find that Tash and Matt had done a wonderful job cleaning the house and finishing the garden. Much supping, burgers and music then occurred, til I finally went to bed about 01.30.
The main part of the weeks libations transpired to be my actual birthday, where after a half of Mad Clown in the Rutland we headed to Shakespeares. Here, the Transmission pump was inhabited by a 6.9% Howling Hops IPA, which I had several pints of. Perhaps seven, maybe six. Carlos very kindly drove me home, and having watched me open the gate, clamber down the steps, open the door and enter the house, I texted him half an hour later, to tell him I was home...
All in all I had a wonderful birthday week, although I have to zay, a wz veh, veh drank.
Your very envious health!
Wee Beefy
just an advisory note readers, the following tome contains multiple references to and details of EXCESSIVE consumption of luffly bose. And not just ordinary bose. Naeow. Proppah bose. I digress, of course, but here are some details of what some of my dear friends told me happened during that mad week last month.....
Last month, and the period thereafter, has been hot. So eagle eyed readers will notice what I have done. Its an joge. A play on words if yer like. because the weather....was not wet. Its just that my actions were primarily aqueous.....
It began....in Shakespeares. As, indeed, did everything. When the first wriggling atoms of life splashed free into the furthest pool of life's construction, that, was in Shakespeares. Absurd, admittedly, but you can see where my allegiances lie. Its not my second home for nothing. Its all Earth's lifes second home.
Adam had put on North Brewery Transmission American pale at 6.9% on cask, one of the world's best beers, on. I arrived for my crapulent downfall at 15.07 with S.o.J, soon joined by Helen and Chris and Malc, and had a pint. And then another. Other than the first I paid for none. And still the 568mls of joy came unabated. Carried away on a tide of friends kindness and nobody knowing who the delicious pints were for, I probably had six. Or seven. Or more...
One surprising side effect of this bibulus undertaking is that I became hammered. So much so that I "briefly" nodded off. Indeed, am still hearing about persons who turned up at or around 20.30 whom I have no recollection of seeing. Steve took me to the loo. And I dare not report what WK had to explain away about my trousers as I tried to leave for the taxi.
The next day, having somehow not died, I awoke earlyish to find Matty strimming the lawn in drizzle, and friends and WF started to congregate to board a minibus driven by Paddington. Having been too destroyed to read my Faceache messages I hadn't realised we were meeting on the main road. WF was not impressed. Although, WK offered to drive his car to him, pick him up. drop him at the bus and then drive back, park the car and run back. WF was having none of it. We left 40 minutes late.
Arriving at the Ye Olde Rock Inne at Upper Hulme at 13.00 we soon ordered food and all had fabulous meals and mainly numerous pints of Wincle Sir Phillip. Excellent snap, even if the mobile phone bound lass behind the bar never collected our plates in the hour following our meal. Heading through excellent countryside back to Sheffield, we stopped at Tescos Abbeydale, where me and Davefomtshop walked there for me to buy bose and WF embarked on a tri-millennial dawdle to the loos. We arrived back home late, with WF half asleep, to find that Tash and Matt had done a wonderful job cleaning the house and finishing the garden. Much supping, burgers and music then occurred, til I finally went to bed about 01.30.
The main part of the weeks libations transpired to be my actual birthday, where after a half of Mad Clown in the Rutland we headed to Shakespeares. Here, the Transmission pump was inhabited by a 6.9% Howling Hops IPA, which I had several pints of. Perhaps seven, maybe six. Carlos very kindly drove me home, and having watched me open the gate, clamber down the steps, open the door and enter the house, I texted him half an hour later, to tell him I was home...
All in all I had a wonderful birthday week, although I have to zay, a wz veh, veh drank.
Your very envious health!
Wee Beefy
Tuesday, 5 June 2018
Man drinks clear, sub 5% beer. Rubber-neckers gridlock traffic.
Good evig,
shocking and scarcely calculable news has emerged of a man drinking a clear beer, at sub 5% in a popular Sheffield establishment. The man, known online and in Maidens Ayrshire as Wee Beefy, consumed said potation on Saturday, occasioning not only an International visa payment crisis, but also the spectacle of hoardes of onlookers whom gridlocked the road outside his den of iniquity, trying to "cop a butchers".
Beefy, as he is known, did not even forewarn road users or passers by before beginning this heinous undertaking, leading directly to the automotive carnage outside. Whilst blog and Friendache readers reacted with disbelief, thronged on the highway trying to espy the near clear liquid were hundreds of discombobulated bystanders.
Onlookers, conjoined in a group hum of wretched contemplation, even mentioned that the beer, as well as being below his usual 7% starting strength, "didn't even have a capital I in it". The elderly spontaneously combusted at this vile revelation, whilst pitchfork waving crowds thronged the pavements in shared ire.
As the harsh sun of expectation denial aflamed the slow moving outside, Beefy ignorantly chugged down his effervescent tincture inside, with scarcely any consideration of his action's impact. "ee dint simt care" shrieked Graham and Grahametta Schjok, a cretinous couple who had jack-knifed their camper van across both sides of the road to witness the seemingly unimaginable act transpire. "ee juss drank it, like ee dint gee a shit " said Norman Colon, a passing drunk with scrofula " ee dint sim to care a jot the bast" he mumbled incoherently.
On social media the pages of despair were afire with accusations of some kind of publicity seeking scam or contrivance on Beefy's part, perhaps, in some ways, trying to claw back a fall in stats on his woeful "blog" site. No agreement or contrivance has been received from Beefy, lapping up the sun in the Algarve as he is.
"aee luff you, yer fuggin suberstarp" he drawled aimlessly. I fuggin do yer top basta"."Am back ont clear suff narr an its shent me daff". No other response could be found.
Other hues of ale are available.
The Beefmeister
shocking and scarcely calculable news has emerged of a man drinking a clear beer, at sub 5% in a popular Sheffield establishment. The man, known online and in Maidens Ayrshire as Wee Beefy, consumed said potation on Saturday, occasioning not only an International visa payment crisis, but also the spectacle of hoardes of onlookers whom gridlocked the road outside his den of iniquity, trying to "cop a butchers".
Beefy, as he is known, did not even forewarn road users or passers by before beginning this heinous undertaking, leading directly to the automotive carnage outside. Whilst blog and Friendache readers reacted with disbelief, thronged on the highway trying to espy the near clear liquid were hundreds of discombobulated bystanders.
Onlookers, conjoined in a group hum of wretched contemplation, even mentioned that the beer, as well as being below his usual 7% starting strength, "didn't even have a capital I in it". The elderly spontaneously combusted at this vile revelation, whilst pitchfork waving crowds thronged the pavements in shared ire.
As the harsh sun of expectation denial aflamed the slow moving outside, Beefy ignorantly chugged down his effervescent tincture inside, with scarcely any consideration of his action's impact. "ee dint simt care" shrieked Graham and Grahametta Schjok, a cretinous couple who had jack-knifed their camper van across both sides of the road to witness the seemingly unimaginable act transpire. "ee juss drank it, like ee dint gee a shit " said Norman Colon, a passing drunk with scrofula " ee dint sim to care a jot the bast" he mumbled incoherently.
On social media the pages of despair were afire with accusations of some kind of publicity seeking scam or contrivance on Beefy's part, perhaps, in some ways, trying to claw back a fall in stats on his woeful "blog" site. No agreement or contrivance has been received from Beefy, lapping up the sun in the Algarve as he is.
"aee luff you, yer fuggin suberstarp" he drawled aimlessly. I fuggin do yer top basta"."Am back ont clear suff narr an its shent me daff". No other response could be found.
Other hues of ale are available.
The Beefmeister
Tuesday, 17 June 2014
Upcoming dotage event
Hello,
I have been slow posting again I admit but my excuse is...OK, sorry, one of my excuses is that I will soon turn a corner on the path of life. I will reach an age milestone, a deal breaking mark of my existence, a wondrous and unlikely event. Yes. I will become 40 years old.
Having lived more than half of my expected life already and, according to a fattish man who said my type 1 diabetes meant I'd be lucky to make 40, surpassed some people's expectation in doing so, I thought I would celebrate. And I would do so, by attempting to contribute to not wasting money on a 70th or similar nonsense, and have a jolly good drink. Of tasty delicious and hoppy real ale. Noms!
Those of you who know me or maybe have read this blog before may consider that this is hardly news. You are right. But as part of my enforced three days on the waggon I have nothing better to do than fantasize in writing about the beery delights to come. In summary, this means that after a swift pint or two on the day and an evening of luxury at home, there will be a do at Shakespeares, then next weekend a barbecue, where I will hopefully have a whole polypin of real ale to share and drink.
At the do there will hopefully be a pumpclip though, created and designed by myself, Miss N and Matty, to adorn the pump designed for a Blue Bee beer which I am told will be pale and hoppy at about 4.5%. It is brewed by new(ish) brew recruit Josh and may have a subtle addition....
The only downside to the celebrations is that so soon after I'll still be 40 and still be dredging through an unseemly quiche of crap, unedifying soul destroying menial work until I cease to function, or serve any useful purpose. on which basis, I suppose I'd better enjoy the celebrations...
Thanks to Chris and Tom at Shakespeares (in advance...) and Rich, Andy and Josh at Blue Bee for assisting me in toasting my upcoming dotage. I look forward to some other beer bloggers maybe posting about what happens, since I absolutely am not taking any notes. Maybe see some of you there.
Cheers!
Beefotronic
I have been slow posting again I admit but my excuse is...OK, sorry, one of my excuses is that I will soon turn a corner on the path of life. I will reach an age milestone, a deal breaking mark of my existence, a wondrous and unlikely event. Yes. I will become 40 years old.
Having lived more than half of my expected life already and, according to a fattish man who said my type 1 diabetes meant I'd be lucky to make 40, surpassed some people's expectation in doing so, I thought I would celebrate. And I would do so, by attempting to contribute to not wasting money on a 70th or similar nonsense, and have a jolly good drink. Of tasty delicious and hoppy real ale. Noms!
Those of you who know me or maybe have read this blog before may consider that this is hardly news. You are right. But as part of my enforced three days on the waggon I have nothing better to do than fantasize in writing about the beery delights to come. In summary, this means that after a swift pint or two on the day and an evening of luxury at home, there will be a do at Shakespeares, then next weekend a barbecue, where I will hopefully have a whole polypin of real ale to share and drink.
At the do there will hopefully be a pumpclip though, created and designed by myself, Miss N and Matty, to adorn the pump designed for a Blue Bee beer which I am told will be pale and hoppy at about 4.5%. It is brewed by new(ish) brew recruit Josh and may have a subtle addition....
The only downside to the celebrations is that so soon after I'll still be 40 and still be dredging through an unseemly quiche of crap, unedifying soul destroying menial work until I cease to function, or serve any useful purpose. on which basis, I suppose I'd better enjoy the celebrations...
Thanks to Chris and Tom at Shakespeares (in advance...) and Rich, Andy and Josh at Blue Bee for assisting me in toasting my upcoming dotage. I look forward to some other beer bloggers maybe posting about what happens, since I absolutely am not taking any notes. Maybe see some of you there.
Cheers!
Beefotronic
Sunday, 9 February 2014
Ten important people in the 1980's
Hello,
in the roller-coaster of social and family events of late I have forgotten to post my annual round up of frankly bizarre search terms that have led folks to these hallowed pages. Its perhaps worth reminding you that I borrowed this idea from the sadly missed Simon Johnson - I was a fan of his Googlefail round ups, not least by the consistent appearance in his search terms list of "Sue Holdernesses's cleavage" having brought up his blog.
In the last two years the internet, mainly via Indian hosted sex sites, has made quite an effort to lead people to mine, and I have been recording some of the search terms used throughout 2013. Below is a list of the strangest:
Barmaid garden of Eden
Beautiful Scottish beefy men
Bar sandalwood fanny
Civic crown winner beefy
10 important people in the 1980s
What is expectation dichotomy
He weee eeh
Big beefy truckers
Are there ever monks in buxworth
Woman found dead in Crosspool
Delicensed pubs for sale in crewe
Division smegma
Beefy mongers
Which artist painted the cow picture....
All hail the beeflords review
Cobden peach festival
How to have a wee at a festival
Antidisestablishmmentariansim colin j
Premier Inn Shotts dirty women
Unwashed penis photos of beefy men
My absolute favourite, with apologies to her family, has to be "woman found dead in Crosspool". Quite how disappointed one might be with finding a beer blog after searching out such information is difficult to measure. But at least it doesn't reference hairy penises. So, hey. things are looking up....
Here's to less hairiness in 2014!
Beefalot x
in the roller-coaster of social and family events of late I have forgotten to post my annual round up of frankly bizarre search terms that have led folks to these hallowed pages. Its perhaps worth reminding you that I borrowed this idea from the sadly missed Simon Johnson - I was a fan of his Googlefail round ups, not least by the consistent appearance in his search terms list of "Sue Holdernesses's cleavage" having brought up his blog.
In the last two years the internet, mainly via Indian hosted sex sites, has made quite an effort to lead people to mine, and I have been recording some of the search terms used throughout 2013. Below is a list of the strangest:
Barmaid garden of Eden
Beautiful Scottish beefy men
Bar sandalwood fanny
Civic crown winner beefy
10 important people in the 1980s
What is expectation dichotomy
He weee eeh
Big beefy truckers
Are there ever monks in buxworth
Woman found dead in Crosspool
Delicensed pubs for sale in crewe
Division smegma
Beefy mongers
Which artist painted the cow picture....
All hail the beeflords review
Cobden peach festival
How to have a wee at a festival
Antidisestablishmmentariansim colin j
Premier Inn Shotts dirty women
Unwashed penis photos of beefy men
My absolute favourite, with apologies to her family, has to be "woman found dead in Crosspool". Quite how disappointed one might be with finding a beer blog after searching out such information is difficult to measure. But at least it doesn't reference hairy penises. So, hey. things are looking up....
Here's to less hairiness in 2014!
Beefalot x
Saturday, 31 August 2013
New beer "a first for brewing" claim*
Hello,
it gives me great pleasure to announce that on the bars of pubs in Sheffield and maybe a bit further afield now, is a beer that has redefined the concept of a mixture of ingredients being cajoled together by a "brewer". The beer, Pilcrow Porter, was brewed not only by some brewer or other in some brewery or whatever; it was brewed by a team of real people, included in which was myself, THE FIRST EVER BLOGGER TO BREW A BEER, ANYWHERE, EVER!
This sensational coup came about as the result of a conversation in a pub between myself and the secretive brewing mastermind "JSB". The upshot of which was a ground breaking deal that would see myself and some people who work at Shakespeares Ale and Cider House on Gibraltar Street in Sheffield (see posts passim) and someone else, congregate at a secret location to concoct a brew made from ingredients which are usually a closely guarded secret.
I, as the only blogger ever to have brewed a beer, am duty bound to lift the veil of secrecy on this closed world and spill the beans in a frankly distasteful betrayal of the brewers trust, thus :
Arriving at an ungodly hour at Blue Bee Brewery myself and Robenbakker, Alex Korner from the band of the same name and other Chris, assembled to take on the almost fanciful process, previously described only in folklore. Here's what we did, and what all brewers do, to make beer :
1. Put the kettle on. Its important to have a "brew", especially since one of the crack team had prepared for the days event exclusively by getting pissed the night before....
2. Make sure you put the big kettle on 24 hours earlier. This needs to reach a specific temperature which credibility forbades my recalling.
3. Weigh out some special salt in a box, and loads of malt - there are 4 types in this brew, one of which is black malt. I forgot to ask what the others were....
4. Feed the glorious grains into the hopper, whereafter this giant chute drops them at a regular-ish rate into the mash tun where the magic water is mixed in. Using a rotating clothes horse, vigorously stir the sludge until it looks unappealing. Use someone called Chris or Robin to chase down the chute the last determined grains.
5. Sparging - we definitely sparged it, which is where you stir it with a wind screen wiper. Unfortunately this is two weeks ago and I've been on holiday since then, so obviously can't remember at what point this happens.
6. Then the wort, which is the grim mixture from the above, is fed into an under-bucket which swirls the mix around before feeding it into the copper, which is basically another kettle if you ask me. Somehow this agitates some starches. Possibly sugars. Possibly neither.
7. In the copper which is very hot, the liquid is heated to another secret temperature that I can't remember - meanwhile, the fermenters are cleaned (as were the copper and mash tun previously, obviously) and the hops are sorted. This involves picking out any slightly not hop detritus by hand and weighing the hops out for adding to the copper. With some other things.
8. You have to empty the kettle at some point I presume. The big kettle that is. Actually, probably both, since you are on with it.
9. There are 4 hops in Pilcrow, not just 4 individual hops, obviously, which is a secret blend. However, for illustrative purposes, you could have used, say, Admiral, Progress, Cascade and Cluster. Once carefully weighed out (600kg of each seems a bit high - have I remembered this right? Am I at Steel City by mistake?) these are simply popped in the copper and stirred with a besom, until all the ingredients are in the seething tumult of sugars.
10. Then, when this has finished, you simply pump the mass down a tube into a fermenting vessel where it becomes beer.
10a.You probably have to measure the alcohol content in a giant tall test tube resembling a lava lamp - without the lava.
So, that's it. The 10 step secret of brewing is unlocked. Having swapped Chris' at half time the team of ordinary everyday folks in the street, plus JSB, master-crafted a beer that by virtue of its unusual production, will be like no beer you have tasted before.
Its probably on at Shakespeares this weekend. Maybe Monday. I mean, it depends on cask turnover versus available space, possibly also taps. Not the American concept of taps that they think go on bars. The ones you ram in the cask to regulate the escape of matter. The availability differential means the precise date of it being on is almost impossible to determine. So you'll have to go there every day until it surfaces.
Either way, however you come across it, just remember that Blue Bee Pilcrow Porter is the peoples pint, and drinking it unifies strangers in a way that no other beer can. Power to the people! Pints for the people! Drink it now!
Cheers.
Your solemn insurgent in the secret world of brewing and related alchemy
Wee Beefy.
*I can't recall who coined the phrase "a first for brewing" but someone definitely did. I mean, maybe not in direct relation to this beer, but the sentiment is there.....
it gives me great pleasure to announce that on the bars of pubs in Sheffield and maybe a bit further afield now, is a beer that has redefined the concept of a mixture of ingredients being cajoled together by a "brewer". The beer, Pilcrow Porter, was brewed not only by some brewer or other in some brewery or whatever; it was brewed by a team of real people, included in which was myself, THE FIRST EVER BLOGGER TO BREW A BEER, ANYWHERE, EVER!
This sensational coup came about as the result of a conversation in a pub between myself and the secretive brewing mastermind "JSB". The upshot of which was a ground breaking deal that would see myself and some people who work at Shakespeares Ale and Cider House on Gibraltar Street in Sheffield (see posts passim) and someone else, congregate at a secret location to concoct a brew made from ingredients which are usually a closely guarded secret.
I, as the only blogger ever to have brewed a beer, am duty bound to lift the veil of secrecy on this closed world and spill the beans in a frankly distasteful betrayal of the brewers trust, thus :
Arriving at an ungodly hour at Blue Bee Brewery myself and Robenbakker, Alex Korner from the band of the same name and other Chris, assembled to take on the almost fanciful process, previously described only in folklore. Here's what we did, and what all brewers do, to make beer :
1. Put the kettle on. Its important to have a "brew", especially since one of the crack team had prepared for the days event exclusively by getting pissed the night before....
2. Make sure you put the big kettle on 24 hours earlier. This needs to reach a specific temperature which credibility forbades my recalling.
3. Weigh out some special salt in a box, and loads of malt - there are 4 types in this brew, one of which is black malt. I forgot to ask what the others were....
4. Feed the glorious grains into the hopper, whereafter this giant chute drops them at a regular-ish rate into the mash tun where the magic water is mixed in. Using a rotating clothes horse, vigorously stir the sludge until it looks unappealing. Use someone called Chris or Robin to chase down the chute the last determined grains.
5. Sparging - we definitely sparged it, which is where you stir it with a wind screen wiper. Unfortunately this is two weeks ago and I've been on holiday since then, so obviously can't remember at what point this happens.
6. Then the wort, which is the grim mixture from the above, is fed into an under-bucket which swirls the mix around before feeding it into the copper, which is basically another kettle if you ask me. Somehow this agitates some starches. Possibly sugars. Possibly neither.
7. In the copper which is very hot, the liquid is heated to another secret temperature that I can't remember - meanwhile, the fermenters are cleaned (as were the copper and mash tun previously, obviously) and the hops are sorted. This involves picking out any slightly not hop detritus by hand and weighing the hops out for adding to the copper. With some other things.
8. You have to empty the kettle at some point I presume. The big kettle that is. Actually, probably both, since you are on with it.
9. There are 4 hops in Pilcrow, not just 4 individual hops, obviously, which is a secret blend. However, for illustrative purposes, you could have used, say, Admiral, Progress, Cascade and Cluster. Once carefully weighed out (600kg of each seems a bit high - have I remembered this right? Am I at Steel City by mistake?) these are simply popped in the copper and stirred with a besom, until all the ingredients are in the seething tumult of sugars.
10. Then, when this has finished, you simply pump the mass down a tube into a fermenting vessel where it becomes beer.
10a.You probably have to measure the alcohol content in a giant tall test tube resembling a lava lamp - without the lava.
So, that's it. The 10 step secret of brewing is unlocked. Having swapped Chris' at half time the team of ordinary everyday folks in the street, plus JSB, master-crafted a beer that by virtue of its unusual production, will be like no beer you have tasted before.
Its probably on at Shakespeares this weekend. Maybe Monday. I mean, it depends on cask turnover versus available space, possibly also taps. Not the American concept of taps that they think go on bars. The ones you ram in the cask to regulate the escape of matter. The availability differential means the precise date of it being on is almost impossible to determine. So you'll have to go there every day until it surfaces.
Either way, however you come across it, just remember that Blue Bee Pilcrow Porter is the peoples pint, and drinking it unifies strangers in a way that no other beer can. Power to the people! Pints for the people! Drink it now!
Cheers.
Your solemn insurgent in the secret world of brewing and related alchemy
Wee Beefy.
*I can't recall who coined the phrase "a first for brewing" but someone definitely did. I mean, maybe not in direct relation to this beer, but the sentiment is there.....
Monday, 14 May 2012
The end is nigh
Hello,
Here's to finding stuff out.
Wee Beefy
this is more a note than a blog post (you may be relieved to discover) which serves only to tell you that I have done something that I am not proud of. Lots of bloggers have done it, it seems, most of them appear to have escaped unscathed. I just hope I will not be the first to suffer.
I joined Twitter. As Wee Beefy, as it happens.
No doubt this will be tremendous fun (especially the character limit) and, having no mobile internet access, it will be great for finding out about stuff many hours after its happened, finished being discussed, been posted, tweeted, re-tweeted, or indeed anything affording it any semblance of use or need. So much like now really, when I rarely get on the Internet until 22.00....
Wee Beefy
Tuesday, 24 April 2012
Wee Beefy's Derbyshire Pubs
Now then,
I promise this is the last retrospective/regressive look at pubs of my youth (for now at least, until I age ten years or more beyond my last period of pub and beer writing, which started in about 2005...). And can I also apologise for the lack of photo's of any of the pubs listed below.
In 1995, for it was then, I was asked by a friend to produce a guide to my favourite pubs in Derbyshire. I insisted that this would be a mammoth task unless I concentrated on one area, and designated a random swathe of the county "South Derbyshire". Of course, this was entirely erroneous. Its more like mid to South West Derbyshire. Sort of ten miles either side of the River Dove. Ish....
Anyhoo, I listed nine pubs that I liked, probably half of which I got from the GBG, some of which may have been introduced to me by Wee Fatha. I confess that am unsure why I stopped at nine, unless I wanted the list to be printed on one side of A4 only?
A copy of the handwritten list, missing my rather obtuse descriptions, is reproduced below (not in preference order I admit) :
1. Winster : Old Bowling Green,
2. Kirk Ireton : Barley Mow
3. Parwich : Sycamore
4. Hartington : Joseph Cotton (I know, I know, its the Charles Cotton...)
5. Alstonefield : The George
6. Fenny Bentley : Bentley Brook Inn
7. Fenny Bentley : Coach and Horses
8. Earl Sterndale : The Quiet Woman
9. Chelmorton : Church Inn
What I find interesting about this snap shot is that I was 21 when I compiled it, and it features a lot of very traditional pubs (so seems my tastes haven't changed), and a few that are, quite frankly, still classic pubs. The Barley Mow and Quiet Woman are still firm favourites, remaining unaltered in nearly two decades, and I have been to all of them in the last couple of years, except for those in Fenny Bentley.
Also, as if anticpating the future of village pubs (the good future that is, where they remain open...) I notice that some of the featured pubs have received plaudits for taking a central role in their communities. The Sycamore at Parwich particularly, in having received TV coverage, has made the pub the hub with a shop inside the premises, and the Barley Mow at Kirk Ireton opened a shop in an adjacent building a few years ago. In 1995 I am certain there was at least one shop in each village (in my day, etc). See more info about the Sycamore here from the excellent Gettothepub.com.
Finally, I note that all but the Hartington, Alstonefield and Fenny Bentley pubs were still featured in the 2011 Good Beer Guide (I don't buy GBG's, I inherit them, so will have to wait til September 2012 for Wee Fatha to receive his new 2013 edition), many having been featured for many years now.
Which begs the question, given the ongoing success of most of the above pubs, who's assessment of the best pubs in the area in 1995 was most prescient - mine or the respective CAMRA branches?
Well, I had considerably less resources and pub going experience, so....
Wee Beefy
I promise this is the last retrospective/regressive look at pubs of my youth (for now at least, until I age ten years or more beyond my last period of pub and beer writing, which started in about 2005...). And can I also apologise for the lack of photo's of any of the pubs listed below.
In 1995, for it was then, I was asked by a friend to produce a guide to my favourite pubs in Derbyshire. I insisted that this would be a mammoth task unless I concentrated on one area, and designated a random swathe of the county "South Derbyshire". Of course, this was entirely erroneous. Its more like mid to South West Derbyshire. Sort of ten miles either side of the River Dove. Ish....
Anyhoo, I listed nine pubs that I liked, probably half of which I got from the GBG, some of which may have been introduced to me by Wee Fatha. I confess that am unsure why I stopped at nine, unless I wanted the list to be printed on one side of A4 only?
A copy of the handwritten list, missing my rather obtuse descriptions, is reproduced below (not in preference order I admit) :
1. Winster : Old Bowling Green,
2. Kirk Ireton : Barley Mow
3. Parwich : Sycamore
4. Hartington : Joseph Cotton (I know, I know, its the Charles Cotton...)
5. Alstonefield : The George
6. Fenny Bentley : Bentley Brook Inn
7. Fenny Bentley : Coach and Horses
8. Earl Sterndale : The Quiet Woman
9. Chelmorton : Church Inn
What I find interesting about this snap shot is that I was 21 when I compiled it, and it features a lot of very traditional pubs (so seems my tastes haven't changed), and a few that are, quite frankly, still classic pubs. The Barley Mow and Quiet Woman are still firm favourites, remaining unaltered in nearly two decades, and I have been to all of them in the last couple of years, except for those in Fenny Bentley.
Also, as if anticpating the future of village pubs (the good future that is, where they remain open...) I notice that some of the featured pubs have received plaudits for taking a central role in their communities. The Sycamore at Parwich particularly, in having received TV coverage, has made the pub the hub with a shop inside the premises, and the Barley Mow at Kirk Ireton opened a shop in an adjacent building a few years ago. In 1995 I am certain there was at least one shop in each village (in my day, etc). See more info about the Sycamore here from the excellent Gettothepub.com.
Finally, I note that all but the Hartington, Alstonefield and Fenny Bentley pubs were still featured in the 2011 Good Beer Guide (I don't buy GBG's, I inherit them, so will have to wait til September 2012 for Wee Fatha to receive his new 2013 edition), many having been featured for many years now.
Which begs the question, given the ongoing success of most of the above pubs, who's assessment of the best pubs in the area in 1995 was most prescient - mine or the respective CAMRA branches?
Well, I had considerably less resources and pub going experience, so....
Wee Beefy
Tuesday, 6 March 2012
Erm, what exactly?
Hello,
am afraid I just had to share this with you all.
I was having a vainglorious look at my stats and wondering why I had so many today - now this isn't an egotistical plug, its a real concern. Often a slew of page views means a troll or spam site has flooded me with referrals that in no way represent people's intended destination or interests.
I have to say though, there is a "searched keywords" section that tickled me.
This week's favourite I think has to be "men with hairy pubs".
The mind boggles.....
Wee Beefy*
*(this is my sign off, not the intention to identify me as the above)
am afraid I just had to share this with you all.
I was having a vainglorious look at my stats and wondering why I had so many today - now this isn't an egotistical plug, its a real concern. Often a slew of page views means a troll or spam site has flooded me with referrals that in no way represent people's intended destination or interests.
I have to say though, there is a "searched keywords" section that tickled me.
This week's favourite I think has to be "men with hairy pubs".
The mind boggles.....
Wee Beefy*
*(this is my sign off, not the intention to identify me as the above)
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