I like the way you murk it

Sun is shining, weather is sweet; well, it was a couple of weekends ago, when we made the trip to the charming town of Cheltenham. A town boasting some of the best Regency architecture in England (I made the Ewing hang around a council car park, while I took pictures of the concrete) it's also home of cult brewery Deya. Found, like all good breweries, tucked away on a quiet trading estate and handily near to Cheltenham Spa railway station.

You may also notice the discombobulating nature of the pictures, which veer from night to day and back again through this post. Which, I think, artfully adds to the feeling of an afternoon drinking session that extends into the night. Looking back through my camera roll when I came to write about our evening, it's more of a wonder I had any photos that I could use. Although I did have several of the Ewing going for a wee in the bushes (sadly, now deleted, although maybe for the best) there is no privacy these days - TE.

Deya are best known for their hazy beers, which lean toward the New England style, rather than the piney astringency of the West coast IPAs. They describe them on the website as 'soft, hoppy beers' and, if you are into your murk, then this is the place to be. Although, as you can see from the menu 'other liquids' are available.

Things started very demurely, in shirt sleeves drinking a pint of Steady Rolling Man, their flagship hazy pale ale weighing in at 5.2 per cent, this is becoming a benchmark of all hazy pale ales. The Ewing had a pint of Just a Glimmer, their session pale ale at a more modest 4 per cent and super easy to drink in the sunshine.

I won't bore you with the minutiae of every beer we tasted (I think we got through them all, bar the Tappy Pils, despite it being lager weather) but, if you're not on Untappd, here are a few buzz words to give you the general idea; hop yogurt, pineapple, mango, murky, hop bomb, hazy, tropical, juicy banger etc. etc.

Food come in the form of a roster of rotating food vendors which, on our visit were Mission Pizza - wood-fired pizza slingers who specialise in vegetarian and vegan pies. 

While I'm not absolutely sure I want to give up my mozzarella for cashew nut cheese any time soon, I'm a big fan of a meatless pizza (or any kind of pizza in all honesty) and I was very excited by their menu which featured the 2000s supermarket classic of spinach and ricotta, pimped up with pine nuts and truffle oil; and a spicy choice with chilli oil, chilli flakes and jalapenos.

But in the end the choice was a no-brainer - the wild garlic leaves, wild garlic pesto and nettles with caramelised onion and mozzarella cheese. This was an excellent pizza with a perfectly puffy, chewy crust, bitter greens and sweet onion. My only criticism was it was perhaps a little too sweet. Some of the aforementioned chilli flakes or a slick of spicy oil wouldn't have gone amiss. 

After our pizza we moved on to a crisp chaser - the delicious Torres Iberico ham flavour - with another pint of murk, this time the Into the haze IPA. This was followed by the 'last beer' of the night; the Old Evil Spirit, a roasty, malty imperial stout with a healthy dollop of dark fruits and cocoa.

Unfortunately they only served this in halves and not thirds. Normally I'd say that but not really mean it, but on this occasion an eleven per center, that slipped down with nary a hint of booze, probably signified the beginning of the end.

Of course, that wasn't the end of things. On returning to the bar to buy some cans to take home the Ewing got coerced into buying another round of delicious DIPAS, plus yet more crisps, this time the black truffle flavour.  Funky and deep and a little bit salty; and the crisps were pretty good too.

I'm not entirely sure what happened on the way back but I know it involved going to the kebab shop; getting stuck in the kebab shop; buying a lighter; losing a lighter, losing my earphones (found the next morning with the help of Toby the three-legged dog TE); getting caught short; dancing in the street (in my Beavertown beanie, no less) and, as the pièce de résistance, getting lost in the garden of a nursing home.

Thankfully we did make it back, although the saddest part of the whole trip came on waking up at the hotel the morning after. After spending a few minutes wondering where I was and wondering if I would ever feel ok again, I realised that the hard won kebab that I had carefully carried home remained uneaten. On the plus side some enormously fragile glassware, see the top of the picture, we had bought along with the beer was still somehow intact.

Of course, missing out on my bedtime snack made popping next door for the all you can eat Harvester breakfast (with an extra rump steak and an endless stack of buttered crumpets with Marmite) even more welcome.

All in all a perfect weekend and perfect training for our imminent trip Down Under, where the Ewing and I are going to hit the Inner West beer crawl, as we did on our last visit two years ago. Only this time I hope to actually remember enough of it to be able to write it all up on here. Wish me luck....

Scotch Ale Trail - Glasgow edition

Will Self recently wrote a nice little article on ‘The joy of doing the same thing over and over again’ in which he recounts a story of whenever he visits Melbourne he always eat at a Japanese restaurant on the edge of Chinatown, and always has the same thing. Then followed up with the fact he’s only been to Melbourne twice and ‘it just so happens I ate in the same restaurant on each occasion'. Nevertheless this was sufficient for me to confidently predict I will at some point in the future eat there again, and moreover for me to also feel distinctly cosy about the prospect.’

Which pretty much sums up how I feel about Nice and Sleazy’s; although I’ve only visited Glasgow twice, each time has been punctuated with a lunchtime visit here, accompanied by a White Russian, a routine I’m already very happy to be in, and one I would hope to continue on subsequent visits to a city that already has a fond place in my heart.

Alongside our three pound a pop milk-based cocktails (you can also get a black Russian for the same bargain basement price, alongside cheap jugs of Williams Jester IPA) we stayed to try out the new Meathammer burger menu; a decision which proved a remarkably sound addition to the old routine.

I tackled the Grinder - a Stilton burger dripping with lashings of garlic butter that would certainly preclude any app based dates after eating, the only hot thing being my fiery garlic breath (tasted great, though). The Ewing was swayed by the Worldeater – a umami bomb of mature cheddar, Parma ham, caramelised red onions. dill pickle, tomato and bacon relish and parmesan crisp - recently voted by critics as Glasgow’s best burger and fully deserving of its plaudits.

Our second Brewdog visit of the trip was to the Glasgow branch, conveniently opposite Kelvingrove and is possibly my favourite of the ones visited so far, being light and airy and having  a lovely view across the park to the museum.

Scottish brews on tap were lacking – there was a Oskar Blues tap takeover but the Ewing though her favourite Ten Fidy stout might be a bit much for mid-afternoon – but I was happy to try their Candy Kaiser, a new northern German style retro altbier, that Brewdog describe thus: 'we’ve dialled down the dry-hops to zero, but cranked up the malt to create massive aromas. Toasty, toffee and floral notes duke it out for supremacy in the headspace of your glass'. While the Ewing finally got her chilled bottle of Pumpkin Head, heady with autumnal spices.

King Tuts, like Sleazy’s, was on my Glasgow must do list after my teenage pen pal – the lead singer with Bis, no less – sent me a flyer advertising their gig there in the mid-90s. For years it remained a mythical nirvana until, over a decade later, I finally made it north of the border and dragged the Ewing to sit in the, very real, gloom and drink fizzy lager to a soundtrack of my teenage angst. This year she had already vetoed a return trip, but after looking for the next spot to stop for a drink and realising we were practically outside, it seemed fate had intervened.

Something else that had also intervened since our last visit was craft, that five letter word that meant the range of beers on offer was no longer limited to Tennents and Wife Beater; indeed they now even have their own lager breweed for them by West. 

Alongside a tankard of the house Tut’s we also tried the Gladeye Rye IPA brewed by Drygate and, in a moment of notoriety that almost matched the time I ate the first ever hotdog off the warming rollers at Cineworld High Wycombe, we got to sample the very first pint dispensed through the new tap. A very timely taster as our next stop was the Drygate microbrewery proper, to see how the magic was made.

Drygate /The Vintage (yes, one name would be much easier) is multi-faceted microbrewery/event space/ bar/ restaurant that has opened on the site of the Tennent’s plant (aka the Wellpark Brewery that was originally known as  Drygate), a ten minute walk to the West of the city centre. Lager lovers despair not, the Tennent’s site still operates as a multi-barrel multinational operation next door, providing over a third of Scotland’s fizzy yellow stuff as well as distributing beers such as Sweetheart Stout and Caledonia Best across the globe.

Save for the sparkly lights all seemed deathly quiet outside, even for a Wednesday evening, so it was a cheering surprise to find the open plan /restaurant bar area buzzing. We were greeted warmly, both by the staff and the thick malty fug that hung in the air, before choosing to sit on communal drinking benches by the bar, which also afforded us a view of the beer-making action happening in the next door.

Things started sensibly (after an afternoon spent mostly drinking in bars and snoozing in the Kelvingrove) and promisingly with schooners of Outaspace, their apple ale. The latter being particularly curious, especially as it is one of their core beers, being a kind of lager/cider hybrid that would be particularly welcome in the warmer summer months, if such a phenomena makes it to G31.

After that things became hazier when, realising that the beer list was packed full of local cask and keg brews that we had barely made a start on (not to mention such delights as Buxton’s Wyoming Sheep Ranch), we decided the best idea would be to order two flights….

Now the headache has finally subsided I can confirm this was in fact the correct decision, meaning that we got to try such brews as ‘unfiltered Tennent’s straight from the tank (who thought the familiar brew could get hipster points – still tastes of piss, though) Cromarty's Rogue Wave pale ale and a couple of fine dark beers, a Red Eye Flight porter from Tempest and William Brothers Black Ball stout. 

Surprise of the night, however, was a wildcard picked by the Ewing of the Thistly Cross elderflower cider. Initially I was upset that this apple-based interloper had sullied our range of hop based libations, but on sampling it I can confirm that it was a very fine variation. A tipple to which the cliché ‘dangerously drinkable’ could have been designed. So good that I (who?- TE) have even created a hybrid version at home using cloudy Strongbow and homemade elderflower cordial. Best served in pint glasses over ice with a Nurofen chaser.

The Ewing's haddock risotto topped with a gooey poached egg and peppery watercress was comfort food at it's finest; a mixture of salt and smoke and buttery yolk that reminded her of her Mum's 'yellow fish, mash and peas'.

I went with the classic Bearface Lager beer battered fish and chips with side helpings of very good minted mushy peas and home made tartare sauce. Very rich but very nicely done and, being predominantly deep fried, the perfect accompaniment to soak up all the beer.

The Ewing was lured by the special of panna cotta – a surprisingly chocolate-less choice, in the end she just couldn’t resist the charm of our lovely waiter Alasdair, whose Scottish lilt made clementine jelly sound far more enticing than it has any right to.

Alongside the layers of wobbly cream and fruity stuff the whole thing was topped off by a wonderfully boozy topping of Pedro Jimenez syrup, a charming pudding with the promise of Christmas and only missing that classic Scottish accompaniment to everything, a shortbread finger to dunk.

My dessert, the freshly made doughnuts served with tonka bean and white pepper caramel was ambrosial. Cold beer and hot doughnuts may already be a classic, but this dish provided a real life When Harry Met Sally moment as I shovelled the hot fluffy orbs mouthwards, leaving a little more than a scattering of sugar and a trail of moans in my wake. (vom - TE)

If I haven’t already used far too many superlatives, pounding head aside, Vintage was the venue of the trip for me. Great staff (with even greater beards) a fantastic selection of cheap and plentiful beer from both their own kit and beyond; and some cracking cooking coming out the kitchen. In fact it's no exaggeration to say that Drygate might be my new favourite place; it's just a shame its 383 miles from my house (yes, I did Google it...).

And so we headed eastwards, back to Auld Reekie, yet another venue added to our lists of must visits for the next time. Who said routine was the enemy?

On the Lash, Leeds Style

Visits to Leeds always mean some sort of exciting ale trail along with some great company. This time I had seen Tony Naylor’s timely best Leeds craft beer article in the Guardian, but my Uncle had gone one better and cut it out, alongside various flyers and menus in anticipation of our visit. Anyone who knows will realise just how deliriously happy the prospect of a pub crawl, plus a handful of takeaway menus can make me; and that's before we'd even left the house.

Research done, the first stop on our sodden Sunday trek was to Bundobust, a craft beer bar and Indian street food hybrid. Whilst the concept - combined with the plywood benches and exposed brickwork inside - may seem peak hipster, the award nominations, mass internet adoration and weekend queues prove they are obviously doing something right.

I started off far less than sensibly for an all-dayer with the Skor Brun, a Belgian strong ale from Mikkeller at 8%. This was pretty decent, if a little sweet, with plenty of caramel, apples and dried fruit although probably best consumed in small quantities.

My Uncle and the Ewing went with the crisp, spiced house coriander pilsner - which is brewed by a small family run Czech brewery - that pairs perfectly with their range of Indian street snacks.

To eat we shared a selection of dishes including a great masala dosa stuffed with potato & onion and served with lentil soup and coconut chutney; the idli sambhar rice dumplings served in lentil soup with chutney; and the gobi bhaji, a crispy fried orb crammed with onion, cauliflower & spinach, served with a tamarind & red pepper chutney and modelled by Uncle John. On Sundays you can also get brunch, with a bloody mary with their egg bhurji (a kind of spicy scrambled eggs) for a tenner.

Next there was a moment of confusion where we thought we had headed to the Head of Steam, but had actually ended up at nearby Tapped, a welcome mistake as not only do they serve a huge selection of cask and keg beers, including ones they brew on site in their own microbrewery, they also serve Big Dan's homemade pizzas.

It took a while to decide what to drink, but in the end I went with the Roosters Baby Faced Assassin, a nice enough pale ale brewed in nearby Knaresborough, whilst the Ewing chose the Magic Rock offering, Dark Arts: Surreal Stout, a mix of four malts and bags of hops. If my memory serves me right - and after all that beer who knows - Moyra tried the Magnum PA single hopped ale which was a Irn Bru orange hue, with plenty of grapefruit and spiced rye flavours.

They serve a selection of pizzas, but the one you really need to know about is the N'duja Want Some? Complete with the eponymous spicy sausage, pickled jalapenos and red chilli (you can have scotch bonnets if you're a real maniac) and a good splash of Dan's beer 'n' chilli sauce with pineapple and hop oil.

The rest of the pizzas we tried - including the special with sausage and broccoli rabe and one with blue cheese, rocket and walnuts - were great, but the Fishy One (a Napoletana by any other name) that Moyra ordered is also well worth a mention if you're into your capers and anchovies.

The Midnight Bell, the Leeds Brewery flagship, is a good old fashioned pub with plenty of good old fashioned beers. They produce four permanent casks; Leeds Pale, Yorkshire Gold, Leeds Best and Midnight Bell, alongside seasonal ales and kegged beer including the Leeds brewed lager, Leodis, the Roman name for Leeds.

I do love me a pint of Leeds Pale, a brew that I have grown accustomed to drinking at the annual Thorner (the village my Aunt and Uncle live in) Boule Tournament, alongside sausages grilled expertly by my cousin, Will. This year the Leeds Brewery also sponsored the annual Thorner Comedy festival, which we had attended (and drunk a few pints at) the night before. It's a proper Yorkshire bitter, and none the worse for that, and at a respectable 3.8% it's also deceptively easy drinking.

Alongside our beers there were peanuts, as who doesn’t love a pint and some peanuts, although they also had a special pie menu for Pie Week that saw each pub in their stable of six in Leeds showcasing a different pastry product as well as Leeds Best battered fish, Yorkshire gammon and steaks and Swaledale sausages.

Our next and furthest stop was the Northern Monk Refectory, trendy bar and microbrewery in Holbeck which is housed in a grade II converted flax mill. Arriving buffeted by the rain and wind, we found the initial lack of coat pegs and tricky to get your leg over (steady) communal benches didn’t make the warmest welcome, but once we had got firmly ensconced - and discovered their bookcase full of beer geek books and board game - things started to look steadily up.

They improved even further with the beers; mine was a Northern Monk Monacus, their New Zealand hop-packed pale ale, while Uncle John loved the Chennai, a dark, spiced porter. The Ewing’s tipple was a Belgian wheat beer, recommended by the bar man and one that seems destined to forever remain nameless due to forgetfulness and intoxication (I swear there were oats involved - TE). A real shame as this was a cracker, being fresh and hoppy whilst having the citrus, banana bread and bubble gum characteristics of a great wheat beer.

The food is provided by the Grub and Grog Shop, who bill themselves as 'flavours for the curious', With a Sunday menu that offers a mix of local game alongside vegan dishes and a sandwich menu that boasts fillings including kohlrabi and mutton served alongside celeriac porridge topped with malt oil it makes a welcome change from burgers, slaw and pulled pork.

We shared dishes of parsnip and hop cakes with glazed beetroot, crispy cavalo nero, salsa verde and lentils; and an ox tongue hash with celeriac mash, pickles, kale, hop syrup and stout gravy. Both were outstanding, both in value and flavour, with the tongue being the standout, although overall the flavours veered a little towards over-sweetness for my tastes.

Moyra also tried a slice of their vegan carrot cake. Whilst I think she found it a little dense and claggy I have to say I found it pretty delicious, although sadly I’m not sure the lack of animal products and the addition of extra veg could possibly have categorised it as a health food.

Finally the rain had stopped, so we swapped the industrial chic of Holbeck for the history of central Leeds' Scarbrough Hotel - or Scarbrough Taps to the Loiners - a popular pub by the station that has been taken over by Nicholsons.

While I'm not adverse to a Nicholsons pub - I still think back fondly to the breakfast served at the Shakespeare in Brum - I sometimes find their beer selection lacking inspiration. Here they had a decent range of keg ales and stouts, but most seemed to come from dahn Sarf, with few local beers on offer. I also have to confess that I don't remember what anyone drank, save for a Nicholsons own pale ale that came with our burger, which is brewed down St Austell and is a fair enough pint of ale.

The special of iberico pork and chorizo burger with chips was too good for my Uncle to resist and it was a pretty decent effort, the juicy and well seasoned patty studded with big chunks of garlicky sausage and housed in a squishy glazed bun with lashings of mayo and salad. Crisp battered onion rings, at a quid for a bowl, were equally appreciated by my Aunt.

Last stop was perennial favourite, Brewdog Leeds, just in time for the release of their small batch Bourbon Baby, a baby (5.8% abv) scotch ale which is then bourbon barrel aged to add a smoky vanilla and brown sugar intensity. Smooth and easy to drink - with plenty of shortbread, honey and raisins – but with a lower alcohol punch than the taste belied. 

I went off piste with the Mikkeller guest beer, Wheat is the New Hops, an India Pale Ale brewed with wheat and fermented with brettanomyces. This had a clever balance of grassy hops with a touch of clove and lemon wheat underpinned with a slight brett funk. Drunk rather too quickly, so we wouldn’t miss the once hourly Sunday service back to the sticks, this was one fine final fling that set us up nicely for an evening of gentle snoozing and reruns of the Chase. 

Many thanks again for our partners is crime, Moyra and John, in the making of this production. Who yet again risked biblical floods and battering winds to make sure we were sufficiently overfed and inebriated. It was a pleasure as always.