Tag: London

WWI had a permanent legacy. UK beer became relatively weak and pubs remained closed for much of the day.

Not only was Barclay’s innovative in lager brewing, it was also one of the first breweries to start canning. And there was one beer where these two acts of daring combined: Sparkling Beer.

While the Fuller’s London Pride poured at pubs across London may appear unchanged over the decades, there was tinkering going on behind the scenes.

While it once represented up to three-quarters of the beer drunk in London, Porter’s popularity took a big hit after WWII. Today, enterprising brewers with a passion for the style and its history are rescuing this dark ale from obscurity.

England’s attempt to create a free market in beer led to an explosion of small, beer-only pubs—and the beginning of the end for Porter.

Scientists publish family tree of brewers’ yeast; Nebraska banishes homebrew from beer festivals; London borough gives pubs legal protection; and Maryland breweries collaborate on beer benefiting flood victims.

IntelligentX, a British brewing firm founded by Hew Leith and Dr. Rob McInerney, is using artificial intelligence to develop its beer recipes in response to user feedback.

Proud of their origins, Italian brewers represent themselves with passion. While some entrepreneurs are hoping to recreate a piece of their native homeland, others are choosing to mixing it up.

It’s clear that Guinness, although popular, was far from dominant in the British Stout market. And there were many Stouts not just as dry as Guinness, but far drier.

War impacted British brewing both directly and indirectly. Government action is a good example of a direct influence.

When it closed in 1934, Hoare and Co. was one of the oldest businesses in London, dating back to Tudor times. Today, the site is home to a block of apartments, and not a trace of the brewery remains. Will the Hoare name ever return?

Until recently, locals knew South Bermondsey Station as the closest stop to The New Den, home of Millwall, the city’s most blue-collar soccer club, but times have changed. Saturday morning now sees a steady stream of punters disembark here, most of them looking for beer.

Whitbread created one of the most useful documents for anyone interested in the history of British beer: their Gravity Book. In it, they documented thousands of samples of competitors’ beers, from the early 1920s to the late 1960s.

According to many beer histories, English Stouts—Milk ones excepted—disappeared in World War I, allowing Guinness to dominate. It’s another example of projecting the present backwards. As usual, the truth is much more complicated.

Beer and railways have a lot of history in London, dating from the 1830s. Today, no less than 14 of the capital’s more than 50 breweries are housed within railway arches of above ground train tracks.

At London’s Partizan Brewing, each label starts with the same idea—characters and objects shaping letters that spell the name of the beer, a technique that’s been part of artist Alec Doherty’s work for a while.

Pale Stout sounds like a contradiction in terms. But if Black India Pale Ale can exist, why not Pale Stout? Going back to the original meaning of Stout, it’s not as daft as it first appears. Stout only acquired its definition as a specific type of dark, hoppy beer in the early 19th century.

What’s slightly surprising to see in old British newspapers is that the strongest Mild is called “Imperial.” Especially as I’ve been calling XXXX Ale “Imperial Mild” for a while now. I thought I was just making it up. Once again, history has proved that there’s almost nothing genuinely new.

The original IPAs were not strong beers. At least not by the standards of the day. Back in the 1830s, IPA was definitely in session-beer country.

It’s not unfair to say that British beer was stagnating before it got a kick in the arse from American craft brewers in the early 2000s.

Britain was a latecomer to the lager party. Everyone knows that. But the story is more complicated—and goes back further—than you might imagine. Lager made two arrivals in Britain, each some 30 years apart.

The evolution and slow divergence of Irish Porter from the London original is a story that’s been repeated across the world. Displace a beer and, like a plant, it will adapt to its new environment.

Everywhere you turn in London, history is meshed together vibrantly with the modern world. This clash of old and new is also reflected in the beer scene.

The first modern Brown Ale, brewed by Manns of London, appeared just before 1900. Only after World War I did the style really take off. In the 1920s, most other London brewers introduced their own.