Jaws of Borrowdale

With the sound of the March page being ripped out of the calendar, I thought it would be nice to bring on a Mild. After all, May is Mild Month in England, and I wanted to get a head start. Sitting before me is a sample (pint-sized) of "Jaws of Borrowdale", a Dark Mild named after a feature of the Central Lake District of England. I had the pleasure of a wander back in September of 2006 from Penrith to Boot which took me up to the top of Catsbells and then down through the Jaws along the Derwent and into one of my favorite Lakeland valleys - Borrowdale. So, here's a refreshing tribute to memories of Stonethwaite, Rosthwaite, Seathwaite and that rainy climb up past Styhead Tarn into Wasdale. Cheers! (And don't even THINK of sipping it.)

I was a bit reluctant to wire up all six pumps today, what with April being one of those dismal rainy months that calls for a paucity of chatter in the pub and a lonely till behind the bar. There is a risk of having on too many active casks that could linger and drift towards vinegar whilst the thirsty punter languishes at home in front of the TV eating Cheetos and watching the rain dribble down the windowpanes. However, my thoughts wandered to the beauty of a smart looking lineup on the blackboards and I caved. So, if you're tempted to just stay at home, think of what you're missing. There is also a pretty good chance that a cask will be pouring at Belmont Station next Friday the 15th. See you at the pub (or Belmont Station).

Moments Like This

There aren't enough moments like this. It's about 9:00 on a Friday night. There are three musicians in the house, playing sometimes separately, sometimes together. Unlike many nights when there is live music at the pub, there are actually people listening and enjoying. There is a boisterous pool game going on on the other side of the partial wall, seen through the windows from where I'm sitting way in the back by the office. Off at the end of the bar are some lively conversations. There are a couple of ladies dancing in the parlor, seen through another set of windows. The Cranium game in the Henhouse has been going on for hours, and is still going strong. And as I continue scanning this unlikely public house in the middle of timber country, I see tables covered with Imperial pints of locally brewed cask-conditioned ale, the overwhelming beverage of choice. There aren't enough moments like this.

Tricks to Get Away For a Spell

One must get out once in a while, for the sake of sanity, well-being and a proper recharge, so fortunately there are festivals and tastings coming up. Tomorrow I haul a cask up to Belmont Station in Stumptucky for the opening of their 14th Anniversary weekend. I jumped on the opportunity when asked. So, Friday I get to draw a firkin of Quid Hoc Sibi Vult, as well as sampling the other interesting wares. Going up on a Thursday to get the cask settling means I have an evening to spend at the Highland Stillhouse on St. Patrick's Day. I'll be good.

There are other escapes in the works. The 4th Annual Firkin Fest at the Green Dragon is coming up on the 16th of April. Looks like the offerings have crept up to 30 breweries. I'm betting I'll be bringing the ale with the lowest ABV.

The beginning of May marks the advent of the first Eugene Beer Week, culminating in the annual Sasquatch Brew Fest. I don't know if I'll be at Sasquatch, as it's hard for a brewery of my size to attend festivals that expect donated beer, but there are some rumblings about some firkins being liberated at 16 Tons. It's nice to see the Southern Willamette Valley making some noise. Why should Portland get all the attention?

Another interesting invite this year was the 5th Annual Festival of Arts and Wine .... and Beer! at the Mount Angel Abbey in June. I tried to pencil out how I could attend, but this is a limited attendance event and I had doubts that 3 oz. servings for 500 to 700 people would be sufficient to drain two casks. It would've been more for my own benefit in engaging in a breather, and, from what I was told, the interest and benefit of the monks who have a certain fondness for their ale of a traditional nature. A shame, that is; I would've liked to have spent a week in their library.

Now as the pub is winding down on a quiet Wednesday night, I'm scratching this entry out between casks on the cask washer for a filling early tomorrow morning. Then a quick packing up of the portable real ale kit and I'm on the road. I'll be missing the festivities at the pub tomorrow, what with the St. Patrick's Day release of the last, six month old cask of Tanninbomb, but I can at last test it out tonight before wiring it up to the pumps. It's up to you to have a pint tomorrow, so don't be a slacker.

Silent Movie

I would've figured, what with the three people coming around the KLCC Microbrew Festival to our booth festooned with gadgetry, that at least SOMETHING I said was worthwhile. Oh, well, at least we got a moment of dispense.

Au Naturel

Wow. Almost a month since my last post. Some might think this as either a sign of being too busy, or maybe just a lack of compelling material. Truth is, I started several posts and have subsequently deemed them to be rubbish. But now I sit in a pub in Eugene in anticipation of the opening of the KLCC Microbrew Festival. Once again we are down here in Eugene trying to cool casks with ice blankets and artfully fielding questions like, "is that a nitro tap?"

This year's collaboration (or collabrewation, as I like to call it) beer is right up my alley. Those brewery type folks what attended the meetings that I couldn't go to decided we should all brew a sessionable pale using a single malt and a single hop. Each brewery was to choose a different hop and use their house yeast. I am now working with Wyeast London ESB (WY1968). I was, of course, curious how the gray matter of a West Coast brewer would interpret the concept of sessionable. Would Ninkasi produce a 6% pale using Citra, for instance? I shot for a nice low ABV session (or ordinary) bitter using U.S. Challenger. 130 lbs. Gleaneagles Maris Otter went into a 2 UK BBL batch, with 1.2 Kg Challenger at the top of the boil and two 0.2 Kg drops toward the end. Talk about pale. It's a bit deceiving, though, as it comes across nice and spicy/bitter, with a wee little malty note towards the end. All this at 3.2% ABV. I decided to call it "Au Naturel".

I had the pleasure last night of popping over to Oakshire last night where a gaggle of the brewers brought over jars and growlers of their batches. The naked malt and hop flavors and aromas make for interesting comparisons, as the distractions of specialty malts or hop cocktails are absent.

In less than an hour I head over for the opening shift. I like to have myself and/or my staff present to serve, so we are well represented and can handle questions. We are also pulling a cask of "Mutt", which I hoarded just for the festival, much to the chagrin of some or our regular customers. Hope to see you at the festival. I'll be there for the full two days this year, as there is no conflict with productions from my local theater group.

Production Is UP!

I've just finished the last TTB (Tax and Trade Bureau - i.e. The Gummit) brewpub report for the year 2010. I'm only a few days late, no biggie. This is a quarterly report that states (a) how much beer was produced in the brewery, and (b) how much was removed for "tax determination", i.e. we drank it. Eagerly, I tallied up the production numbers for the four quarters of 2010, and am delighted to declare that we have busted the 100 BBL mark. For 2009 we only cranked out 92.07 BBL. 2010 witnessed a staggering production of 104.64 BBL, an increase of 14%. Cask ale is on the rise. For all you British readers out there, these BBL figures employ our pathetic American barrel measure; the equivalent Imperial Barrel measure is 75 BBL, or 21,600 proper pints of elixir.

As you can see, there is much work ahead of us for 2011. Let's shoot for 200 BBL. Sounds outrageous? Well, it is, but who wants to give up now. See you at the pub.

2011, Late at Night

I was going to say that it just doesn't end, but it does. The pub was closed today, albeit without second-hand complaints from a few, but it was nice to take a day off. Well, most of one. While the door is locked, there is still a lot of pottering about that takes place.

It's late night on the first of the year. I'm not prone to making "best-of's" or collective summaries just because a number increases by one, but was sitting at my favorite pub table near the bar, armed with notepads and the trusty computer and bits of whatnot, and got an inspiration to take a grainy iPhone photo of the dormant bar and environs. It had a nice peaceful look to it, resting up for another year of the social melee. There is year-end inventory to deal with right now, and my accountant has made a number of demands about cash-on-hand and mileage and so forth. I find it a bit petty, myself, but one must at least hazard a dance with the rules, or at a minimum flirt with them across the dance floor from the comfort of the punch bowl and the attractive platter housing the cheese and cracker selection. Also, our New Years Eve party, full of lively locals and winter revelers and replete with the bluesy strains from Kip (who played for 4.75 hours) drained a couple firkins of ale that needed tending to tonight. Fear not, the stillage is stocked and the pumps should be flowing tomorrow for the last day of the Winter Break.

After going a month without being able to brew due to lack of funds, a bit of money was scraped together for another pallet of grain. The Big Winter Stout is finally in the fermenter. Yep, I'm just starting to brew the winter beers now. Winter's not over; just getting going. The opening of the ski season on Thanksgiving weekend resulted in the increase of the amount of brass in the coffers to the point that it once again doesn't feel hopeless playing the publican in this wayward town up in the mountains. In the long dark teatime of November I couldn't help but think about just packing the pub up and moving it to a more populated domain. Now, just looking at this temporarily dormant little block building on First Street, with the beat-up furniture and the weathered Mac Court floor and those enticing England Worthside pumps on the bar.... I think I'll see what happens tomorrow. Tenacity. I have a little bit left, and if I want to appear borderline sane tomorrow I must finish up here with the stuff behind the scenes that doesn't end and get some sleep, because 2011 awaits. See you at the pub.