Posts Tagged ‘cornwall’

Spiral scratch beer

Friday, February 3rd, 2012

Sometimes, you come across a band’s first single and, despite low-budget production and rough edges, recognise raw talent.

Well, that also turns out to be our experience of the new Cornish Crown Brewery which we were so apprehensive about visiting.

On a cold Wednesday night, we made it to the Crown in the centre of Penzance, the tap for the brewery which is actually based on an industrial estate a few miles away at Badger’s Cross in Gulval, where we tried pints of Bitter (3.7%) and Strong Pale Ale (4.8%).

First impressions were not promising: the thin, scummy heads on our pints did not make our mouths water.

What these pints lacked in stage presence, however, they made up for in taste. West Country beer often tends towards sweetness but both of these were bitter in that way that makes you thirsty — a very good sign. There was evidence of a heavy hand with the hops in the aroma, too. Sometimes, a good first impression can diminish as the beer warms up but, in this case, both beers were good to the last drop. Perhaps there was a hint of the burnt waxiness we associate with Skinner’s or Otter, but not enough to be a serious distraction.

The final verdict: we happily stayed for a second pint and will be keeping a keen eye on developments.

The Bitter is better than the SPA; here’s what Darren ‘Beertoday‘ Norbury had to say in a piece for the local paper; Spiral Scratch explained here; and for more beer/music analogies, see Zac’s blog; picture nicked from their website.

Fear of being disappointed

Thursday, January 19th, 2012

A Cornish object pictured recently.

Lots of new breweries are opening in Cornwall: we know of three that have opened since autumn last year. This is exciting news, especially as at least one of them seems to be intending to fill the gap in the market for stronger and more intensely flavoured beers.

A few years ago, we’d have bent over backwards to get to them as soon as possible but, these days, we’re a bit nervous and a little reluctant.

The really silly thing? One of them has a brewery tap less than five minutes from our house in Penzance. And yet we walk past, we don’t go in. We fancy a pint, we go somewhere else.

Why? Why are we putting it off? Well… we’re afraid their beer might suck, and it’ll be disappointing and awkward.

We don’t worry about this a lot, by the way — just enough to keep “try that new brewery” slipping down our to do list. Next week, though, we’re going to do it. And if we don’t mention this again, it means their beer did suck.

Falmouth’s Must Visit Pub

Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012

The Front pub in Falmouth, Cornwall

The Front in Falmouth (CAMRA Cornwall’s pub of the year) is a corker. It always has a long list of ales from a range of breweries; bottled beer from America and Belgium; and (because this is the West Country, let’s not forget) several interesting ciders. We’ve found the bar staff unfailingly friendly and enthusiastic on our several visits, and the building itself is the very model of cosy, well-worn wonkiness.

Now, it’s not perfect. On our most recent trip, we looked at the pump clips and despaired, recognising several Cornish breweries whose beers are, at best, bland and, more often, sadly undrinkable. We were momentarily stumped — there wasn’t much we actually wanted to drink.

Fortunately, Tintagel saved the day. Their Harbour Special (4.8%) was a dark amber delight with lots of citrusy hops up against chocolatey, roasty malt. Gwaf Tan (Winter Fire) (5.5%) was roastier still, with hints of rum and Christmas fruit — an attempt at a Burton, we think, but almost dark enough to pass for a stout in the low light.

The Front’s local loyalty is to be applauded but perhaps there’s something to be said for adjusting the balance to feature more beer from elsewhere in the UK to keep the local brewers on their toes?

At any rate, if you are visiting Cornwall, and like beer, this pub should certainly be on your itinerary. We’ll certainly be visiting again soon.

Notes:

1. On previous visits, we’ve been spoilt for choice, and excellent local breweries such as Coastal are more often found here than anywhere else.

2. Pints and Pubs liked Harbour Special too.

Where’s the catch?

Monday, December 5th, 2011
The Dock Inn, Penzance

Photo nicked from the Dock Inn website.

Yesterday evening, we finally made into a Penzance pub that we’d been meaning to visit for a while. We’d noticed through both traditional methods (looking through the window) and on Twitter that the pub in question served Spingo Middle (5%) from the Blue Anchor in Helston, a cult local beer which, for us, is usually a long, expensive bus ride away.

So, why did it take us so long? Partly because we don’t yet know how to read Cornish pubs like we used to be able to read them in London. We just can’t tell from the outside, in the dark, whether we’ll find a scary atmosphere, or a cheery greeting. So we dither, not wanting to wander into a… situation.

From the moment we entered the Dock Inn,  however, we felt comfortable and at home. It hits a sweet spot being clean, cosy and characterful all at the same time. Properly worn in, but not tatty. It has partititons and corners, sofas and tables, a fire and — most importantly — people behind the bar who talk to you like human beings whether you’re a regular or not.

The beer was good, too, although on the cold side, which, as it happens, we don’t mind at all. Spingo is Spingo, and in the sweet, malty West Country style which you either love or hate. (Although, this time, not at all sour.) Skinner’s Christmas Fairy (3.9%) was… a Skinner’s beer. The occasional pint of Betty Stoggs has impressed us but, sadly, we might have to face the fact that we just don’t get on with them. There was no faulting the condition, though, and this amber-gold beer could not have looked any more appetising in the squeaky clean glass.

This is our new favourite pub in town, without doubt. What a relief to have found it.

End of the Season

Sunday, October 30th, 2011

West Cornwall’s summer season ends today.

It’s the last day we’ll be able to get Jelbert’s ice-cream in Newlyn; museums, gardens and some tourist-focused shops are switching to winter hours or closing altogether; and, most importantly from our point of view, many pubs are suddenly empty.

Pubs which are designed for the hot, heaving days of August — huge buildings with multiple rooms, beer gardens, play areas and several bars — are partially closed. As the rain and fog settles, the lights are going out, and people are retreating to the log-fire in the saloon.

We visited a pub yesterday which, when we last went, was so busy every table was reserved, all day. Yesterday, the barman looked startled when we walked in. The clock was ticking, the fire was crackling, and he had been lost in thought, chin in hand.

We sat in the corner of a pub designed to accommodate more than two hundred people and had it to ourselves. The Overlook Hotel came to mind.

Our first winter out west is going to be an interesting one.

CAMRA Kernow Festival, Falmouth

Monday, October 24th, 2011

Detail from the logo of CAMRA Kernow

Having moved to Penzance proper from a village a few weeks ago, we suddenly find ourselves much better connected by public transport, and so getting up to Falmouth for the CAMRA Kernow beer festival on Saturday was a doddle.

Even as we approached the venue from the station, we could tell it was going to be good: the streets were crowded much like the approach to a football ground on match day. The venue itself was busy — almost chaotic — but the startled looking volunteers were nonetheless fast and efficient and had us inside, pints in hand, within five minute of hitting the door. Impressive.

Now, there was plenty of Cornish and other West Country beer on offer but, frankly, we can get that any day of the week so we made a beeline for what we’ve been missing the most since the move: proper northern beer.

We knew Steel City Brewing’s Escafeld would be hoppy and weren’t disappointed: it smelled of mown grass, and tasted something like a good, sharp gooseberry jam. Kelham Island’s Now That’s What I Call Bitter was exactly the kind of flinty, crisp, pale and hoppy beer we’d been dreaming of. It took us right back to Sheffield in an instant. And we couldn’t resist an old favourite — Thornbridge Kipling. Can you believe we’ve gone more than six months without a pint of anything from Thornbridge? Weird.

We didn’t just drink beers from up north, though, and also dug into the very decent selection from Oakham, reminding ourselves that this brewery (whose products we don’t see enough of) are up there with Dark Star, Crouch Vale and other favourites of ours. Black Hole Porter was the standout.

Not for the first time, we’ve been very impressed by a regional festival in a way that we aren’t generally by the Great British Beer Festival (GBBF). Why? Perhaps because there’s less overwhelming choice; a different crowd — locals, students, passing hippies; and a cosier venue? We’ll keep pondering this.

Of course, the real  buzz was about the toilets: many of the women in attendance were gleeful at a turning of the tables which saw them walking straight in while the gents queued for a urinal. “I wouldn’t use the sink in the disabled toilet if I were you.” Eeew.

Don’t be scared off by cutlery

Monday, September 12th, 2011

As the death of the gastropub is announced, we found ourselves pondering how people react to the ‘food led’ pub and why we’ve never really had a problem with it.

Admittedly, if a place is sending clear signals that, despite being in a pub building, the establishment is really a restaurant, we don’t go in unless we want dinner. (Those signals, by the way, might include a name with the word ‘restaurant’ in it, or simply not stocking any beer at all.) Generally, however, we don’t let a bit of cutlery and the odd bit of French on a menu stop us going inside.

We have never been turned away and have always had great success with a bit of human interaction: “Is it OK if we just have a couple of pints?”

On a couple of very rare occasions, we have had to drink our pints with a snooty looking owner sulking nearby, but, as far as we’re concerned, that’s their problem. Is it us or are hardened, experienced drinkers sometimes rather sensitive flowers when it comes to this kind of thing?

The Falmouth Packet is a Cornish pub which really gets it right. It is food-led — the landlord is a chef — and it has almost no seating for people who just want to drink. Nonetheless, they have not only always made us feel welcome whether we’re eating or not, but actually take the time to make conversation with us as we sit at the bar. They have an excellent beer, Jolly Farmer, brewed exclusively for them by the Penzance Brewing Company, as well as two other cask ales. It’s cosy, too, and the locals who gather around the bar are always up for a chat. So, food-led or not, we have no hesitation in recommending this as a great place to go for a pint.

Weird bar staff quirks

Thursday, September 1st, 2011

Here are a couple of oddities we’ve come across lately.

1. The barman who warned us not to mix the sediment from our St Austell clouded yellow into the glass with the beer or we’d “end up very poorly”. That’s clouded yellow. It’s a British take on a Bavarian wheat beer, and the bottle advises that it can be served with or without the yeast sediment mixed in. Yet more evidence of the British fear of suspended yeast and its supposedly poisonous qualities.

2. The barmaid who thought we weren’t looking when she held a sparkler near the pump in the last few seconds as she pulled the pint to lively up the head. She didn’t attach it, she just held it in place while she put the finishing touches to our pints. Without this bit of weird jiggery-pokery, we suspect they would have been completely flat.

Cornish Bock is a winner

Sunday, August 28th, 2011

We weren’t massively impressed with St Austell’s Korev Lager but were nonetheless keen to try it’s sister beer, Cornish Bock. It’s proven a tough one to track down but, today, we finally chanced upon a bottle in a remote pub off towards Land’s End.

Overall, our verdict is that it is a really good beer and one we’ll be drinking again if we get the chance.

The first thing that struck us was how much it looked and smelled like Voll Damm. It is, indeed, a very similar beer, albeit more complex.

Having got to know the aroma and flavour of Perle a couple of years ago, we were then struck by its obvious presence in this beer. (It helped that we’d read it on the label, too….) The big metallic, coppery smell of the beer reminded us (and this will sound weird) of blood. In a good way. On a less Gothic note, it also brought to mind one of the brasher alt biers, such as Diebels.

Once it began to warm up, the metallic quality of the Perle gave way to Saaz and, suddenly, we were reminded of Duvel. In fact, this beer has a big enough, fluffy enough, white enough head, and sufficient alcoholic poke (at 6.5%) that it could stand in for Duvel as an accompaniment for food.

Finally, in the dregs, with the beer a bit too warm, syrupy caramel won the day.

So, an excellent effort, which would be even better served in a nicer glass (we got a Guinness-branded pint glass) and perhaps in smaller 330ml bottles.

The Hand Bar, Falmouth

Monday, August 22nd, 2011

The neck of a bottle of Goose Island Pepe Nero 2011.

Confession: we acted like dicks in the Hand Bar in Falmouth. Not massively,  just a bit. When we ordered a bottle of Sharp’s Monsieur Rock, the very friendly, knowledgeable barman really wanted to tell us all about it. “Do you know the story behind this beer?” he said excitedly.

And we did smug know-all faces and said: “Yes, we do.

His face fell.

Sorry, nice barman.

Anyway, what did we make of the bar? Well, Adrian Tierney Jones has rightly compared it to the Rake and it does have similar atmosphere, even if the selection of beer is smaller and less adventurous. The phrase Shoreditch-on-sea may have come to mind at one point. Overall, we were impressed, not only by the staff, but also by the range of Belgian and American beer which is otherwise hard to find beyond Plymouth. There is no cask ale, but then that’s not their niche in the market.

Monsieur Rock itself was served too cold, we think, and we found it intriguing if not mindblowing. We got a hint of something mysterious in the aroma — fennel again? — and thought we tasted honey along with some lemon and some dusty hops. It was certainly very, very clean and refreshing.

We also tried Pepe Nero by Goose Island, which was harder work but very rewarding. It was dark brown in colour with Belgian yeast flavours right upfront, although it had more floral hops and roasted flavours than we’ve come across in many real Belgian beers. The spices tingled on the tongue. Only the body let it down. We found it a little fizzy and thin which may fit with the idea that it’s a (very dark) saison but, at 6%, we’d have liked more weight to it.

Finally, we wanted something with “silly hops” and 400lb Monkey by Left Hand fit the bill. It smelled like a stoned teenager’s foggy hatchback and the tea-like hop flavour was tongue-stripping. Was it nice? Not exactly, but it was certainly hoppy. No, we certainly can’t deny that.