I have a dream

Sally Toms rants about glassware and daydreams about brewing

Another issue, another chapter in the search of beer enlightenment...

This time my tutor was Kentish brewer Shepherd Neame (or Sheps, as it is fondly known locally) and so I found myself sitting alongside pub staff and licensees on its Master of Beer course, the point of which is to ensure that all the Sheps’ pubs are doing the company justice with the presentation and condition of its beers, including all that cellar management and behind-pub-doors sort of stuff that the rest of us don’t appreciate nearly enough.

One of the most important topics of discussion was glassware: how to wash it; how to serve it; how crucial it is to the enjoyment of our pint. It might seem fairly simple, but how many times have you asked for a beer, only to have it overfilled and plonked on a bar towel in front of you, slopping all over the sides of the (wrong) glass it is served in? Or worse when the bar person wraps their fingers round the top of the glass like an eagle’s claw, smearing their sticky fingers all over the bit you’re about to put to your mouth. Eugh.

Sadly it happens too often. Of course I never complain, though. My stifling British sensibilities compel me to simply tut and dab at the spills with a bar towel, hoping I’ve made my point.

It’s reassuring to know that intrepid brewers like Shepherd Neame are fighting on behalf of wimps like me, no doubt at a huge financial cost. But the idea is a simple one and makes economic sense: good beer served properly = happy customers = more money.

Following my work experience as a brewer within the hallowed walls of the Brunswick microbrewery in Derby (courtesy of Everards), I’ve been daydreaming about becoming a brewer myself. I’ve even picked out a suitable looking farm building near to my house; what I would call it; what kind of capacity it would have; what kind of beer I’d make; the local pubs I’d buy... But since I’m not an heiress, nor even an entrepreneur, I’ve relegated the idea into my things-I-would-do-if-I-won-the-lottery part of my brain, and until that day comes I have set my sights a little lower.

The solution was fairly obvious: homebrew! I already make wine at home with varying degrees of success, and I should be making beer. But there are risks… I remember my poor dad pouring about six gallons of carefully-tended beer down the drain. He had tears in his eyes and it wasn’t just the vinegar smell.

I had heard on the hop-bine that our local brewer Woodforde’s made one of the best brew kits on the market. A pleading phone call was made, and a day later a box arrived on my desk (they are kind folk). The box told me it contained all the materials I needed to make 40 pints of Wherry. In reality it contained two large tins and a sachet of yeast. On the side of the box were printed brief instructions which could be summarised, thus: sterilise, add water, add yeast, keep warm, bottle.

Sounds easy. I shall give it a go and will follow-up in next issue’s column. So there you go, now it has been committed to print I must come up with the goods.

Unless I win the lottery of course...

By Sally Toms

Section : From the Editor

Page number : 5