Taking in the Nottingham Craft Beer Festival, the absurdly-named hype-generating machine that is Neon Raptor Brewing, and the absurdly-built Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem Inn.
In the Noah Man’s Land between inner-city bar and country inn, between craft cool and cask cosiness, floats The Golden Ark, one of London’s newest micropubs.
As the summer lion overcomes the winter bull, the brewer turns his mind to the joyful high time of the year.
Bottle shops liquidating? A microbrewery in a football stadium? The cycle has peaked and the bell is ringing.
If the en soi of a Bourbon barrel constrains the pour soi of the beer that is geworfen into it, the culture of a wild beer is the nothingness—the incipient, the contingent—that creates a space for the transcendence of foeder-facticity.
One of my Pursuit of Abbeyness XII brew-day posts received a spike of traffic from the Homebrew Talk forum. I went and eavesdropped on the discussion.
London’s Beavertown Brewery celebrated its seventh birthday with seven collaboration beers. Here’s what I thought about them.
Asahi’s acquisition of London’s iconic Fuller’s brewing business had a shocked beer world searching for explanations last Friday. But the explanation is simple: this is a once-in-a-generation offer that Fuller’s board would have been negligent to turn down.
Craft has an economics, and therefore it has an ethics, and those ethics are grounded in the economy of means. So what to make of a craft beer that feels like a triumph of rigmarole over substance?
The brewery taproom is one of the temples in which we gather to say a secular grace, in a ritual designed to alienate ourselves from our true sense of alienation.