Dear Points of View.
Re. Saturday Kitchen
I am writing to express my frustration, not at a BBC programme in general, but at a regular feature of every edition.
Whilst I enjoy Saturday Kitchen whenever I get the opportunity to see it, I am always astounded by the insistence that, as each meal is prepared by the guest chefs, it is followed by the wine specialist paying a visit to a supermarket, often in a home counties market town, where they peruse a number of options before selecting a bottle of plonk they suggest would perfectly accompany the dish in question.
Whilst I don’t doubt their experience and judgment, this does pose a few questions, namely: where does this sit within the BBC’s policies on promoting specific brands and retailers?
Another is that, in the majority the wine is from anywhere but the UK. Whenever a wine from the UK is chosen, it is always with a condescending “you may be surprised to find” tone.
However, my biggest gripe is, quite simply: why does the food always have to be paired with wine?
The UK has a very healthy craft brewing industry, producing truly world class beers. Beers which pair with just about any meal you can imagine and - in my and many people’s opinion - can compliment the food far greater than any wine.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not suggesting that your guests on the show sit down and start quaffing a pint of lager as an accompaniment to their food (that said, I could point you in the direction of a lovely British lager that would go beautifully with spicy Thai crab cakes…) but I do believe that suggesting beer as a beverage to compliment a fine meal would demonstrate progressive thinking by the BBC.
British beer is no longer the realm of pot-bellied and bearded 50-something men: it is appreciated by a younger, well educated audience as well as larger numbers of discerning female drinkers (using the Campaign For Real Ale’s membership for reference, over 23% of it’s 125,000 members are female).
It can also be argued that, more so than tea, beer is our national drink: so why aren’t we doing more to celebrate and support it?
If it’s a “fine dining” issue, then I can happily point you in the direction of a number of Michelin-starred chefs and restaurants where beer is included as an integral part of the offering - and I’m not just talking about beer battered cod or steak and ale pie - or with a comprehensive “beer list” which sits alongside the wine list.
In these austere times, beer also makes financial sense for the man and woman at home: a bottle of award winning and world acclaimed beer can be purchased from most supermarkets for a couple of pounds - better than three or four times that for an average wine. My partner and I often share a bottle of beer with dinner in the same way we might on another evening also enjoy a bottle of red.
Beer is also being drunk differently: may I respectfully suggest you pour a craft beer into the same glass you’d use for red wine, in similar measure and paying the same attention to serving temperature as you would a good vintage.
Get your nose in there, inhale (again, as you would with wine) and, depending on the beer, you’ll discover aromas that will knock the socks off any Merlot or Chardonnay.
So, what am I suggesting: Supporting a British industry in the same way the programme supports wine-makers from around the world? Educating your viewers? Saving them a few quid?
Yes. In a nutshell.
There are also plenty of personalities in British brewing who would enhance Saturday Kitchen and bring a refreshing alternative to the show, as well as celebrity chefs who, I’m sure, would appreciate the inclusion of British beer.
I do hope you will give this some consideration and pass this on to the appropriate persons at Saturday Kitchen.
Thanks.
beer.
cycling.
waving at trains.
I’ll start by stating a couple of things: firstly, I am a fully paid up member of CAMRA (that’s the Campaign for Real Ale) and, secondly, I also think they have achieved an awful lot for the brewing and pub industries in the UK for which they should be applauded.
That’s that out of the way then.
As a member of CAMRA, I receive a copy of their newspaper, “What’s Brewing”. I read it, some of it I find interesting, some of it I find rather dull (too many photos of brewers and landlords in their novelty ties, holding up a pint of old whasisname and grinning at the camera).
April’s edition - or, at least, one article - has got my back up.
The article is a regular feature by Roger Protz, a man who is without doubt a true aficionado of all things beer and author of some excellent books on the subject, including 300 Beers to Try Before You Die (unfortunate title, very good reading). So why has Roger got my goat?
Keg beer.
I know, I know, CAMRA is all about cask beer and real ale but, seriously, oranges are not the only fruit and all that. But Roger himself is hacked off because people have been writing on their blogs and in press articles that, hey, keg beer isn’t all bad; in fact, some of it can even be very good. So, come on CAMRA, why not give it a try?
Nope. Not on your nelly. That would be, well, heresy. And Roger turns the clock back 40 years to prove it.
I was too young to drink beer in 1971 (just the one candle on the birthday cake for me, thanks) but I do know that it wasn’t the best of times for the British brewing industry. So, CAMRA is formed and they get behind the country’s breweries and that staple of the traditional pub, cask ale. The British cask ale stood firm against, by all accounts, some pretty dreadful mass-produced beer.
A brewing industry that was on it’s knees now boasts over 700 breweries across the land. Well done, everyone.
But that was 40 years ago. In 1971, World War II had only finished a mere 26 years previously. We were still using ‘old money’. Rolls Royce went bankrupt and was nationalised. Jim Morrison popped his clogs.
Times have changed, Roger. I agree, not always for the better, but if you’re going to boast about the number of members that CAMRA have (120,000 at the last count) then you need to appreciate that, to a lot of them, what happened 40 years ago is no longer relevant.
To a lot of people (not just, and I quote, “noisome bloggers”) good beer means just that, good beer. Sure they want to know why it tastes good, who brewed it and a little more about it’s provenance, but they sure as hell don’t want to be lectured to and they most certainly don’t want to be told what’s good and what’s bad based purely on whether it’s cask or keg.
I would like to challenge you and CAMRA on this front: stop preaching, stop lecturing and try educating by helping drinkers make an informed choice, not just telling them that it is good because it comes from out of a cask.
Far too often I’ve seen beer being lauded for it’s real ale and local credentials, but the liquid has been verging on the undrinkable. I am fortunate enough to live in Cumbria, a county with over 30 breweries and which I’m happy to help promote but - hand on heart - I cannot truthfully say that all of their beer is good, but I will continue to support them.
Yes, cask beer may have been lost in the UK* had CAMRA not been established, and yes, the real ale market is doing very well, but don’t think for one minute that every pub in the land would suddenly see a massive reversal in fortunes off the back of introducing more cask ale.
To bring this to conclusion, I feel your article shows that you and many CAMRA members are still in a mindset that was relevant in the early 1970s - to illustrate, in the very first paragraph, you make reference to Spitfire aircraft in the last world war. This outlook reflects a generational attitude which CAMRA could do well to distance itself from should they wish to continue in any meaningful fashion for another 40 years.
By the way, this was an insert which came with “What’s Brewing”, a very good example of marketing targeted at a specific readership profile.
*Cask beer may have been lost to the UK, but I have no doubt that the US and European brewers would have taken up the mantle.
Right, what have I missed while I’ve been away?
I do have a soft spot for beer. Some of you may have noticed. Conversely, those of you who follow my Tweets will probably know that I don’t have much time for a lot of the ‘real ale’ scene in the UK although I am a fully paid-up member of CAMRA and, even just last week, attended a CAMRA ‘Beer Lovers Dinner’.
OK, so the only beers I loved that evening were actually those brought to the table in fine ‘cloak and dagger’ style by one of my guests, Hardknott Dave Bailey. These comprised a very fine selection including Dark Energy, Granite and Infra Red, all three of which knocked the socks off the official beers on offer with the six-course tasting menu.
There are plenty of reviews of Dave’s beers out there on the web, so have a look and you’ll find reviews which will do them far better justice than I ever could. For now, here’s a picture of the bottle labels, taken too late at night and after too many drinks (thanks, Sharon)
So you may be a little surprised to hear that the beers I’m about to pronounce my affection for both sit firmly in traditional CAMRA territory.
The first is Old School Pale Ale (3.9% abv) from Winster Valley Brewery. A spot of (free!) dinner with friends at the excellent Brown Horse, Winster, not far from Windermere and a short drive from Kendal, gave me the chance to try Old School as the brewer intended - about twenty yards from fermenter to bar.
It’s not an exceptional beer, but it is a very good pale ale indeed: crisp, snappy and bitter and dry to finish. It’s a proper thirst quencher and feels like it punches above it’s abv.
The ribeye steak with au poivre sauce (plus chips - I am a Northern lad) paired well and the sharpness of the beer wasn’t overpowering but just enough to cut through the salt / pepper / cream on the palate.
A week or two later, I was able to enjoy the bottled variation of Old School. Again, a very good experience but this time the Ale had developed a new aroma - a definite whiff of freshly ground coffee. No bad thing, I’ll be drinking it again and telling you more about Winster Brewery in the future - their own lager should just be about ready by now…
At a charity quiz night at the local rugby club, the newly refurbished bar boasted a couple of local ales (Hawkshead Red, Tirril Somethingorother) and Monumental Blonde (4.5% abv) from Kirkby Lonsdale Brewery.
I’ll be honest, I’ve not been a fan of their beers up until now but, as they’re still pretty fresh out of the blocks, I thought I’d give them another look.
I’m glad I did.
The first thing you’ll appreciate from Monumental is the massively fruity / floral aroma; it smacks a massive punch of passion fruit or mango, quite brilliant and put a smile on this face on a cold, wet November evening.
Whether intentional or not, the pale-gold beer (actually, light oak might better describe it) was ever so slightly cloudy on this occasion, but not to it’s detriment.
It was probably served too cold but, like the Old School, was a brilliant thirst-quencher and retained plenty of interest through to the last mouthful. Soft in the mouth, not overly bitter, if anything it suggested someone had tried to make their own wheat beer but without the wheat…
I’ll be looking out for Monumental again. The pie and pea supper at the quiz didn’t do it justice, so I’d like to try and match it up with something - perhaps spicy Mexican?
Lets see.
Belated 40th birthday present from my good friend and business partner, Craig. Neither of us have a clue where to start. Perhaps taking it out of the box would be a good place.
What could possibly go wrong?
I do like beer. No, not all beer, but thankfully there is a lot of very good beer in the world.
Unfortunately there is also an awful lot of awful beer, so when you tell people that, yes, you like beer, they immediately think of the awful beer.
Which is awful.
Mainly because then I have to spend the next 10 to 15 minutes telling them about all the wonderful beers they are missing out on:
“beautiful Belgian Kriek and Framboise…”
“What are they then?”
“They’re fruit beers, made with cherries and rasp…”
“Oh, like cider.”
“No. It’s totally different. You see, with Kriek…”
And this is usually the point that Sharon comes over and tells me to stop either boring people who don’t care or lecturing people who should know better.
They should know better.
If you’ve been on the receiving end of this then apologies if I do come across all ‘evangelical’ at times like this…
If you know (and care) about the beer you drink then chance are you’ve been in the same position as me. I used to not care and I think this was because I was mostly happy with what I drank (Guinness, Budvar, Kronenbourg) and honestly thought that there wasn’t that much different between the various lagers, or the various stouts.
I knew there were differences between the different ‘real ales’ because I had been to the annual CAMRA Westmorland Beer Festival, had the souvenir glass, and also the experience of drinking a lot of sheer bilge. Yes, I have chosen my words carefully.
How did I get into appreciating beer?
Nigel Stevenson. I’d met him in a previous incarnation at his brilliant pub, The Mason’s Arms, Strawberry Bank, in the Lake District, but when I started cycling (and drinking, but not at the same time) with him from around 2005, that was then I had something of a ‘moment of clarity’. If I remember rightly, the beer was Flying Dog’s “Snake Dog IPA”
Times have moved on. I’ve thrown myself into beer (not literally, I think I would spoil the taste) and can’t get enough - not quantity, I must add, but different. Not just different, I must also add, but clever and original; beers with heritage that have lasted for generations because the recipes and production are so good; beers that doff their cap to tradition, then go about re-inventing tradition.
I’m going to give you a list of my (current) Top 10 Favourite Beers - this is as of today, 5:30pm on Tuesday 17th August 2010. This will have changed by the time I get home in around 20 minutes…
1. Orval
2. Duvel
3. Goose Island IPA
4. St Peter’s IPA
5. Anchor Porter
6. Thornbridge Jaipur* (bottled version, not draught)
7. Timothy Taylor Landlord
8. Mort Subite Gueuze**
9. Brew Dog Hardcore IPA
10. Goose Island Honkers Ale
As I say, this will have changed by the time I get home, but I don’t mind - as you’ll no doubt see in future posts, I’m happy to make lists.
I also know that I should have put reasons why I like these beers next to each one, but I haven’t. I like them because I like them. There are far better beer writers who can tell you why each one is good and when I can get round to it I shall post links to their websites so that you can be enlightened too, but for now I suggest you go out, buy and try at least one of these.
11. Brooklyn Brewery Lager (that may make it into the top 10 later)
* As recommended by Jeff Pickthall. He was right. Again.
** As recommended by Nigel Stevenson. He suggested I tried it with roll-mop herrings. It sounded disgusting, it was delicious. He also was right. Again.
