Cats and Rats and Elephants, But Sure as You're Born

Mmm...warm Jennings Bitter for £3.50

Historians said about the constantly infirm Charles II of Spain (1661-1700) that he "was always on the verge of death, but baffled Christendom by continuing to live.

Many similar things can be said about many pubs in the North. Take, for example, The Unicorn in Preston.

This place is a former Scottish & Newcastle house, based in a formerly packed pub district on North Road, just off the A6. Several pubs in the area have closed in this area (ie. The Mitre, which is now a Vet Surgery). But The Unicorn stubbornly hangs in there.

It's now owned, of course, by a Pubco. In this case Trust Inns of Chorley who own around 80 premises around the North West. We know this because of the "Do you want to run this pub?" sign that frequently appears on the side of the building. Three times in as many years, by my reckoning.

Numerous tales of unsuitable  landlords, crap beer and a dismal clientele abound about The Unicorn. But somehow it stays as a going concern. Being near the University of Central Lancashire, most assumed it would have been turned into student housing long ago (a fate of many pubs in this area). I can only imagine the cost of conversion is prohibitive. They even replaced the sign outside in June (whether at the Landlord or the Pubcos cost is unknown).

Me? Never been in. I'm presently in the pub next door which has better beer and a much better reputation. If the Unicorn wants to be a continuing and viable pub, it needs to address these issues, rather than A-boarding messages about 40,000 song karaoke database or Free Pool.

I'm betting it'll be student flats by 2020, myself.

Craaaaaaaaaaaaft. Hoooooooooops

I wouldn't even say "Hope over Expectation" to be honest.

Feeling in an unusually forgiving mood this week, when I saw the local shop were newly stocking Old Crafty Hen and Old Hoppy Hen, I decided "Well, why not?". It's been a hard week, and I was in no way convinced by the amount of Customer Rewards I'd gain by buying them.

I got them home and stuck them in the fridge. Still, I erred on the side of optimism. "When," I thought "have Greene King ever lied or been misleading about their beers? Surely they must be at least slightly Crafty or Hoppy, right?"

And so, dear god, I tried them.

I had the Old Hoppy Hen first, I detected a slight citric edge to the expected "clear bottle aroma", but that was all. After a couple of mouthfuls I decided this was basically GK IPA with a few drops of Industrial Bittering Agent #1 added in hope of convincing the uneducated.

Downing it, and moving swiftly on to the Old Crafty Hen, I found the same old " clear bottle aroma" as before, only with a finish of sugar this time. By now I was distinctly unsurprised to find it tasted like GK IPA, but with a few spoonfuls of treacle added.

Let it be written here - those who think beer blogging is a piece of piss can be assured it isn't. Sometimes even those of us who spend our time indulging in easy mockery have to suffer.  But we do learn things. Occasionally.

These beers, while not in any way good, are certainly instructive. They tell the drinker what Greene King think about "Hops" and "Craft". For the former, ramp the astringency level up. That's all that matters. For the latter, all you have to do is darken, sweetren and up the ABV above 6%. Yes, that's what they really think about the " modern beer revolution "

I say, avoid. Even if it has to be said about Greene King products. Which it probably doesn't.

Keswick - Why Bother?

I've never got the appeal of the Lake District, myself.  Get a bowl of water, some rocks, and spray half of it green. That's the Lake District, but smaller.  It could be ok, I suppose, but unfortunately there are tourists.

I had a few days off recently, and bought a bus ticket that gave me unlimited travel around the North West for £26.70. "Where," I wondered "is the furthest place I can go without changing buses?".  I like to get my money's worth, so I looked it up.  Keswick, Number 555 from Lancaster, three hours.  So that was that.  There's bound to be something there, I imagined.

So, I eventually got there around 1230, the bus stopping and starting every so often to disgorge and consume the hordes of elderly trippers.  I went to the local Booths to see what they had on different from mine back in Preston.  After that, and realising I had 45 minutes until the bus back turned up, I decided to go for a pint.

I had heard that Lakes towns are a decent beer desert.  Despite the county having more microbreweries than any other, 80% of the pubs are owned by Marstons (and branded as Jennings, of course). The locals are apparently happy with enough Jennings Bitter and Cumberland to fill Derwent Water, and the tourists really don't know any different.  Walking up the high street (eventually, as it appeared to be market day), I counted 7 Jennings pubs, 1 Robinsons and a "Free House" that was blaring music through open windows.  "Christ, I'm glad I don't live here. What with all this tourist tat and crap beer, I'd've gone on some kind of rampage within weeks."

But things, apparently, are about to change in Keswick's dismal on-trade closed shop.  Yes, Timbo Martin has been on the move again, and he's bought the recently closed police station to turn it into a Wetherspoons.  I don't often say this, but Keswick is a place which can only be improved by adding a Spoons to it.  Even if the beer turns out to to be crap, at least it won't be Jennings and won't be £3.70 a pint.

Certain sections of the community do not approve of these happenings.  The usual complaints.  Noise.  Disruption.  Drunks in the streets.  All completely specious of course.  Seeing as the populace of  Keswick appears to be little more than codgers on walking holidays, and those that service their wants and needs, I would reckon that the potential for alcohol-fuelled disorder is limited.  I'm guessing what they most fear is Timbo's Discount Bandwagon exposing the fact that the hostelries and eateries of Keswick have been fleecing tourists with high prices for years.

Yes, more alcohol will probably be sold.  Let's face it, how much 3.5% Jennings would you drink if you were charged Keswick prices?  The alcohol sales would be to people such as I, who are in town for the day and want a decent pint for a reasonable price.  And if a few pubs have to close, well, sorry for the job losses and all, but that's the price of complacency.  If you run a town as a pub fiefdom, expect interlopers to come and undercut you eventually.

I doubt I'll be going back to Keswick any time soon.  It's crowded with tourist nonsense and there's very little else.  But it's good to know that it's dire beer situation will soon be improving.

The Honest Opinion

I was in the pub the other day. Surprising, I know.  I was drinking my way as usual through the local microbrewed ales.  Once I got to the end of the pumps, the barman flipped around the (hitherto hidden) far pumpclip to reveal something called "Silver Lining".  It did not look too convincing, being as it was an faded inkjet catridge effort, laminated and roughly cut out.  This was, apparently, the Festival Beer of the Lancaster Beerfest.

"As the pub company's one of the Beerfest's sponsors, we've been told we have to have this on." winced the barman.  "Oh, and Fuzzy Duck have done it."

 Ah, Fuzzy Duck.  If ever there was a less hip Lancashire microbrewer, I have yet to see them.  Not content with the dubious spooneristically named beers, and Syd Little running their pub restaurant in Fleetwood, the damn duck on the pumpclip is, in fact, smooth.  Their beers do very well at Festivals though.  I can imagine someone with next-to-no beer knowledge entering the hall with the programme and being baffled by the choice of 100 ales.  Then his eyes alight on the entry for Fuzzy Duck's beers.  "Cunning Stunt!  Hur hur hur!" he will chuckle to himself, as he rewards himself with a pint of Poulton-le-Fylde's 'finest'.

Anyway, eventually the bloody Silver Lining had to go on, as two of the other beers ran out that afternoon.  I decided to order a pint of it due to lack of better options (to be fair I'd had six pints by now).  I tasted it.  Or at least I would have done if I'd been able to discern any flavour in it.  Full of watery goodness, I thought, as I tried to dispatch it with reasonable haste so as to be able to drink something better.

I was about halfway down when a group of four blokes entered the bar.  These, I was informed, were the organisers of the Lancaster Beerfest, out on the piss and (of course) checking the Festival Beer was being served.

"Anyone tried it, yet?" one of them asked.  The barmaid, well-meaning soul she is, pointed towards me.  "He ordered one a few minutes ago.".  Hmm.  Thanks.

"How are you finding it?" enquired Mr. Beerfest of me.  Well, I took a deep breath and gave (to my slight regret) My Honest Opinion.  "Well, I'm guessing I'm not really your market for this kind of beer.  I'm more into this stuff <pointing at the Hawkshead IPA>.  It's not horrible beer by any means, it's just that I prefer my beer with a bit more oomph.".

Mr Beerfest slunk away without reply.  "I think you've hurt his feelings" said the barmaid, just to make me feel better.  "But he did ask me what I thought, right?  And if you don't want to risk hearing something you don't like, then you shouldn't ask the question."  She didn't reply, but simply looked doubtful.

Was I wrong?  I tried my best.  I could have said "This beer is crap and I'm trying to finish it as quickly as possible.  I gave it a chance, but found it severely wanting".  But no, I tried to be diplomatic about it.  And anyway, it's not as if Mr. Beerfest brewed the beer himself.

So, should you really give Your Honest Opinion when asked by someone whether you think their beer is any good or not?  Answers on a postcard.  Or rather the comments section below.