For The Keepsake of It

Usually, when Mrs V and I drive back to central Virginia from South Carolina we stop at Olde Mecklenburg Brewing in Charlotte, mainly to swap our my growlers, have a beer, and maybe get some cans as well. On our most recent trip, we decided to change things up a little bit and go to visit a brewery that I have been following on Instagram for about 18 months now, Keepsake Brewery in Gastonia. We took something of a scenic route from Columbia as we had overestimated how long the trip would take, and so pulled into the adjacent parking lot with about 10 minutes to opening time. Thankfully, we were meeting up with Mrs V's life long best friend, so there was much hugging and chitchat to fill the empty time.

We wandered into the brewery premises themselves, noting the spacious beer garden, piles of kegs, crates, and other brewery type paraphenalia, and bimbled into the just opening taproom.

From many, many posts and stories on Instagram, I knew that Keepsake is dog friendly, so it was nice to not have to leave our wee Cairn Terrier in the car with the windows cracked - it also helps that Hamish, for that is his name, is quite content to just lay down and chill while we sit in a beer garden.

Having scoped out the lay of the land, parked the children at a picnic table with devices (yeah, yeah, judge away), we went inside the taproom and immediately I felt as though I was back in Central Europe - my favourite part of the world if you haven't already noticed. I am sure I have mentioned this in a post about my ideal pub, but I have a soft spot for eclectic, mismatched furniture...yay!

I was charmed to say the least, oh, did I mention the stammtisch nook? No, ok, here:

And yes, that is Hamish's fuzzy wee butt. Anyway, we weren't here just to indulge my Mitteleuropaphilia...there was beer to be had, so I started at the beginning, with their house helles lager, Heartsease.

Now, I am going to be honest, and if you've followed along with my approach to tasting notes at breweries you will know that I generally don't bother, and this day was no different. That said, I bought a six pack and took some notes last weekend. The helles is a very respectable beer, soft bready malt, with just a slight crusty edge and enough hop bite to keep things interesting, there is a nice floral hop aroma floating around. At 4.5%, I could quite happily sit around drinking a few jars of this. A solid start then.

Next up, as you can see, I went to the dark side with their "Vesper" Dark Lager - again I bought some home with me so these notes are from the weekend. First off though, kudos for a proper German style half litre bottle, you know what that looks like right? I don't recall the menu at the taproom stating what kind of black lager this is, I asked if it was schwarzbier, dunkel, or tmavé, but really didn't get an answer to the question. I later learned from pottering around the internet that it is considered a "San Francisco Style Black Lager". Not really having a sense of what that means in relation to the others...it is definitely black, jet black, like a blackhole swallowing the light. Mostly I got American chocolate, espresso, and a rich maltiness that made me think there was a fair old whack of dark Munich malt in there. It was surprisingly thick and chewy for a 5% abv beer, and put me more in mind of a London porter than the dark lagers of central Europe. Still, another flavourful, respectable beer.

Next up a style I don't think I had ever actually tried before, a California Common, monikered in this case "Causwell". Another well put together tasty beer, with plenty of bitterness to prevent the maltiness being overly cloying. As I had never tried this style before, I know, I am lame and a total beer dilletante, I have no frame of reference, but I had a second pint, so that's a good thing right?

For the remainder of our time at the brewery, we had to get back to Virginia after all, I actually stuck to Keepsake's pale ale, called "Little Helper", and I think it was my favourite of all the beers I tried. Hopped with Cascade and, I think, Spalt Select hops, this is a delightfully hoppy, citrus forward easy drinker. The grist is, again working from memory, is 100 pilsner malt, and the combination just works beautifully, I might have to try making something similar myself.

Having ordered in some food, there being no food truck that day, we finished up, leaving the band to carry on playing, and a growing crowd to enjoy the atmosphere. We enjoyed our visit, everything about the space is delightful, including, and I am not joking here, the décor in the bathrooms. It not only feels like a Central European space, but also a local hangout spot that were I to live in Gastonia would very easily become my local. I definitely expect we'll be back, as the trip out of the way makes a nice change from just churning through the interstates of Charlotte, and Keepsake are on to something good here.

Top 5 Virginia Ciders - 2026

I know I don't really write very often about cider on here - though of course you know I wrote a book on cider in Virginia, there's a link over there to it if you fancy buying a copy - Christmas is coming and all that. To support the book, I do have a cider only Instagram account, come give it a follow if you are there. That said, a couple of years ago, just before the book came out, I wrote a post listing the 7 best Virginia ciders I drank during my research. For this year's list, I decided to trim that to a top 5, mainly because 5 just seems a more manageable number. As with my Top 10 Virginia Beers posts, this is an entirely subjective list, so if I have missed out your favourite habanero mango dill pickle cider made with Red Delicious, oh well.

Let's dive in then...

5. Potter's Craft Cider: Farmhouse Dry

   This is the cider that launched Potter's Craft into my consciousness over 15 years ago, when it turned up on tap at my main drinking den back then, a place in Charlottesville called Beer Run. These days it is difficult for me to think much past it when Mrs V and I go down to their taproom. "Taproom" really isn't the right word for what is a former Episcopalian (if I remember rightly) church building in the rolling hills of Albemarle County's Piedmont. It is a glorious space, and when a friend's band is playing, there are few things more chill than sitting outside sharing bottles of Farmhouse Dry with the wife. Made with Gold Rush, Albemarle Pippin, and the Old Virginia Winesap, this is a riot of fruit, balanced with a dry acidic finish that just screams "drink more", and I often do. The acidity, at least for me, is something between lemon and Key Lime, and I get very subtle spicy hints in the background, think cinnamon and you're in the right ballpark. Cracking stuff.

4. Big Fish Cider: Virginia Hewes Crab

   Last autumn I did a grand tasting of single varietal ciders from Virginia using just the, allegedly, Virginia Hewes Crab apple. I say "allegedly" because a recent article by David Zakalik and Gregory Peck in the Journal of the American Pomological Society has shown that the "Hewes Crab" trees growing at Jefferson's Monticello are, in fact, not Virginia Hewes Crab, based on DNA analysis of their lineage that includes an apple variety unknown in the United States until long after Jefferson had died. Putting that fact to one side, and focusing on the liquid in the glass, Big Fish's offering here is a wonderful cider, regardless of the actual apple in use. Delightfully floral, like being in a meadow orchard in spring, in aroma, and brightly acidic, coupled with a trace of spice, this is, as I said in the Cider Review article "clean, dry, and leaves you wanting more, lots more".

3. Tumbling Creek Cider: Ruby Red

   Tumbling Creek Cider is located in far away Southwest Virginia, with a taproom in the town of Abingdon, not too far from the state line with North Carolina. It was the first cidery I visited when I was researching my book, and it made an immediate impression. So when my family and I went to Grayson Highlands State Park over the Memorial Day weekend, I made sure we stopped by to stock up. Stocking up turned into an afternoon session with a couple of the owners, Tom and Justin, and the standout cider for me was their experimental batch of Ruby Red. The Ruby Red crabapple, at least in a Virginia context, is unique to a single orchard where it was discovered growing as a seedling. Tumbling Creek made a single varietal with it and it was stellar, dry as a bone, but with a firm tannic body that belied the 9.5% abv, red berries marry with the apple flavour create a cider that is just too easy to polish off a 750ml bottle in a single sitting. Glorious.

2. Daring Cider: Crab Apple Blend

   The first time I had Daring Cider's Crab Apple blend was sitting with owner and cidermaker, Jocelyn Kuzelka, talking about her work for my book. I thoroughly enjoyed it and made a mental note to buy a few bottles so that Mrs V could try it as well. Last autumn, I was invited to speak at a cider festival hosted by the Frontier Culture Museum, and behold Jocelyn was pouring the latest batch of this blend of Virginia Hewes Crab and Ruby Red. Mrs V tried it, loved it, and so we got a few bottles. Being 75% Virginia Hewes Crab, the dominant flavour is noticeably lemon, with with a background of red berries, mainly strawberries from the Ruby Red - a note that is also in the aroma. A gorgeous cider that paired wonderfully with the roast beef we had for our Yule feast back in December.

1. Troddenvale: Malus X Dolgo

   Talking about the winter holiday season...Early in January, I packed the kids and my wife into the car and took the couple of hour drive from central Virginia, down I-81 a bit, and across the mountains, to get to Bath County. It was a fun trip of beautiful countryside, winding roads, and at the end of the journey, Troddenvale Cider at Oakley Farm. A few weeks later, when I went to Norway for work, I took a bottle of Troddenvale's cider with me for the folks I was working with. I am sure I have mentioned this before, but Troddenvale's Dolgo is a cider that blew me away the first time I had it, and it continues to be something I love to drink, especially for the sharp acidity that slices through rich foods as though the barely exist. Sometimes I will say that it is like sucking a lemon and a teabag at the same time, but I mean that positively. Wildly acidic, massively tannic, but also deeply fruity, think strawberries and cranberries, with hints of flower meadows in the mix for fun as well. Troddenvale make a raft of great ciders, but Dolgo just hits the spot for me everytime.

The hardest thing with this list is leaving off so many great cideries, and magnificent ciders, whether that's Albemarle CiderWorks, Buskey, Blue Bee, the list goes on - Virginia is insanely fortunate when it comes to fantastic cider. So if you're interested in learning more about our embarrassment of apple riches, buy a copy of the book, and get out on a journey of discovery. 

Definitely though, don't sleep on any of these five.

Top Ten Virginia Beers - 2026

I love the end of July...our annual week at the beach in Florida is over, usually the temperature is starting to moderate (and it is a very pleasant mid 80s °F/upper 20s °C at the moment here), and in a couple of weeks Mrs V and the kids will begin their respective school years. It is also, obviously of course, Oktoberfest and pumpkin ale "season", at least for the package breweries that need their bottles in the stores as soon as possible, so yes, soon the leaves will start turning, and the happy dark days of autumn and winter will return.

For most years in recent Fuggled history, that has also meant time to post my annual list of the 10 Virginia brewed beers I have enjoyed the most in the last 12 months. For reasons that escape me right now, I skipped the list last year, but promised myself that I needed to get out more and bring the list back for 2026. I always say this, but it bears pointing out again, this is a purely subjective list, and as such will be heavy on the kind of beers I like drinking, so if you are looking for Virginia's most highly rated double IPA aged in gorilla snot barrels, you won't find that here. Hopefully though, the list will encourage you to go find some of the cracking brews we have in the Commonwealth, and in change from years passim, I will go in reverse order - you know, to heighten the tension and what not.

10. Alpine Goat Brewing: Pilsner

    Earlier this year, I wrote about finally getting back out to Alpine Goat Brewery in the Shenandoah Valley, having previously visited a couple of years back when a brewer transition was in progress. I hadn't expected it to take so long to get back, but when I did I found a brewery that ticks all the boxes for this mad Mitteleuropaphile. For most of that trip I was drinking their German style pilsner, and it hit all the right high notes. Obviously, as I had three or four pints in the course of our couple of hours there. We get over to the Valley pretty regularly these days, so soon I will introduce Mrs V to the delights of Alpine Goat, especially as their house beer is one of her favourite styles, kölsch. A welcome addition to this list!

9. Buffalo Mountain Brewery: Wolf Gang Vienna Lager

   Another new brewery to this list, and one that I stumbled upon by accident. Last autumn, I drove from my home in Central Virginia to the distant marches of Southwest Virginia to interview Diane Flynt for a Pellicle article about her work in orcharding and Virginia's cider scene. Rather than sit on the purgatory that is I-81, I took the Blue Ridge Parkway through Floyd County, and through the eponymous town itself. Having overestimated just how long it would take, myself and Mark (my regular photography collaborator) decided to stop in Floyd for a pint and a feed, thus ended up at Buffalo Mountain. Being a fan of Vienna style lagers in general, that was my choice. Pouring deep red, and being much more in the Mexican tradition of Vienna lager, this was a nice, suitably malty, but not syrupy pint. Not only was it a very decent pint, McDaniel's Tavern, the name for the brewery's taproom, is a delightful space that feels very much like a country pub from either the UK or Ireland.

8. Caboose Brewing: Voda Czech Style Pilsner

   I know you are surprised that it took this long for a Czech style pilsner to make its way onto this list. I can't remember if I have mentioned this before, but although I work remotely (or remotely work, haha!), my employer's main office is in Northern Virginia, in the city of McLean. At least once a quarter then, I have to go up there for team meetings, and an inevitable overnight stop, and invariably, as I am the team lead and get to decide where we have dinner, a visit to Caboose Brewing & Tavern in neighbouring Vienna. Thankfully the rest of the team like Caboose's food, and a couple of them also like good beer, so I am on safe ground. On one of our visits they had Voda on tap, "voda" of course is the Czech word for "water", and I drank it almost as such, even though it was far from watery and insipid, in fact it was lovely and hit the spot, with plenty of Saaz character to satisfy my cravings for hay, lemongrass, and the wonderful aroma of Czech meadows. A cracker, I hope it's around when I am up that way again soon.

7. Patch Brewing: Pylon Pilsner

   Not a new brewery to this list, but oddly a new beer (though a perennial in my annual review of the year in December), given that when I drag the kids off to run around in the field and playground at Patch, it is my go-to beer, usually in my ceramic pot that they graciously fill for me rather than having to deal with the plastic pots they use for the outside space. While this is listed as a German pilsner, the base malt is, I believe, actually Weyermann's Bohemian Pilsner, and so it has a touch more body and heft, coupled with a solid hop bite and floral character, it's really easy, and pleasurable drinking. Which reminds me, the kids need a play date with some of their friends soon.

6. Dynasty Brewing: Yorkshire Bitter

   On my previously mentioned regular trips to Northern Virginia, the only place on earth where the speed limit signs are aspirational, there is a British style pub that I love to get to called The Hawk and Griffin. Conveniently it is just a hop, skip, and a jump from Caboose. My primary reason for going is that they are a pretty fair bet for having some kind of cask ale available. When sitting myself at the bar on one such trip there was a pump clip with magical words "Yorkshire Bitter" on them, and on making sure there was a sparkler attached I knew what I wanted. Apparently it is hopped with just East Kent Goldings, and so there is plenty of that classic orange marmalade character, and without darker crystal malts it is very much a biscuity malt thing that dominates, and I thought it was lovely, served at proper cellar temperature to boot. I was a happy camper that night.

5. Selvedge Brewing: Chain Stitch

   It's pale, it's Germanic, it's damned well made, and when it is on tap at Selvedge then you can almost guarantee that I will have at least one pint of Chain Stitch. It's a beer that many times I have joked about needing to become the equivalent of a full kit wanker but for bike riding, prop my underused bike up next to one of the picnic tables out front, and just spend a sunny afternoon drinking. Hopped with the classic Halletauer Mittelfrüh and lagered until it damned well ready (the best kind of lagering process in my opinion), it is as close to Bavaria as you will get in Virginia. It is difficult to really opine about how much I love Chain Stitch, but often that first mouthful is followed by an exclamation of "echt!", and another Willibecher will soon be on its way...

4. Fine Creek Brewing: Farmhouse Lager

   Very few beers make it onto this list having only been drunk once. Very few beers only drunk once, make this kind of impression. Fine Creek are literally just up the road, a relatively quick and easy 45 minute drive, just round the corner from one of our favourite state parks for camping, and much to my shame we still haven't managed to make it to the brewery itself. However, Josh from Selvedge gave me a bottle of the Farmhouse Lager, and as I said in an Instagram post, it is the "perfect marriage of elegance and rusticity". If you can imagine sitting at a Franconian bierkeller drinking their local brew, I imagine it would have a similar effect on you, this was just a gorgeous beer - and I promise, Brian if you are reading this, we will get out there soon.

3. Superfly Brewing: Private Number (cask)

   It could be recency bias, it could be nostalgia having recently been back in the UK and had something of a revelation about bitters which have darker crystal malts in the grist, it could just be sheer glee at a Charlottesville brewery having an actual cask ale program headed up by brewers who get it. First though, let me tell you a story, the first time I had Private Number, several years ago, I was not a fan. I really wanted to be, because I think what Ed and co are doing at Superfly is fantastic, and best bitter is a style I love. That iteration just didn't work for me. Fast forward to Mrs V's birthday weekend and we headed over with friends to have fish and chips for lunch - SuperFly now has a chip van, and they have quickly become the default place for folks who know about these things to get their fish supper on. They also had Private Number of the beer engine, and I was keen to give it another chance. It took that chance with aplomb, laden with toffee, dark fruit, and rich fruit cake maltiness, balanced with a hefty hop bite to scrape the palate clean. Painfully easy to drink and drink it I did. I am looking forward to more of their cask offerings...

2. Selvedge Brewing: Coat Czech 12°

   That there is a new batch of Selvedge's dvanáctka hitting the taps next week makes my life just a little simpler. Every time I go to there these days, I struggle to decide which of the several superb Central European style lagers I want to drink first. Do I want Batiste, their German Pils? What about Chain Stitch, which I mentioned earlier? Do I fancy Vested Interest, a Franconian kellerbier? Decisions, decisions. Yes, I have got to the point where I just ask Erin to bring me a lager because I trust her judgement and honestly they are all magnificent. Once Coat Czech is back, that indecision will disappear because I know what I want first, not necessarily the only beer I will have, though there is always a strong possibility of that too (yay cans to takeaway for porch drinking). Coat Czech is the epitome of great Czech style lagers, decoction mashing for those subtle Maillard reaction flavours, masses and masses of Saaz hop character, with an almost sherbert like note that reminds me of Unětický Pivovar's superb 12°. I am confident that were you to serve this blind to any well regarded beer writer with extensive knowledge of Czech lager - looking at you guys, Evan and Max - they would not be able to tell it was brewed in far off Virginia.

1. Selvedge Brewing: Spoolboy 10°

   Take pretty much everything I just wrote about Coat Czech and add a couple of caveats for Spoolboy: it won't be on tap next week, and when it is on tap I almost exclusively the beer I drink. Desítka, that's a 10° lager (regardless of colour technically speaking) for the non-Czech speakers of the world is just my preferred Czech beer "style" (ugh, I hate that word when it comes to Czech beer). Again with the decoction mashing, again with extensive lagering until it is good and ready to be on tap, Spoolboy hits every spot that a great desítka does. Yes it is ridiculously easy to drink, yes it positively reeks of Czech hop goodness, yes you will never only have one, and yes it has the Mrs V seal of approval. There was a point when it was on tap that Mrs V and I would be lost in a revelry of Czech Ostalgia (not a typo) for our years in the Czech Republic. It was a beer that took us, even after 17 years in Virginia and neither of us being actually Czech, home. It is the beer that we dragged many of our Czech, and Czech adjacent friends to Selvedge to try, and watch as their faces almost instantly go full on Anton Ego. Byla to dokonalost.

So there we are, my (revived) annual list of the beers I have enjoyed most in the last 12 months - as subjective and lager centric as always, anyone would think I had a type...

Looking Back and Forward

If you've been following along recently, you'll know that several weeks ago I spent 9 days in the United Kingdom, split pretty evenly between getting home to Scotland and being at a conference in London. During those 9 days, I spent a decent amount of time in pubs, brewery tap rooms, and even the classic Highland hotel public bar. Since I got home to Virginia, I have spent an inordinate amount of time thinking about those spaces, the beers I drank, and the emotions that they inspired - and if you don't think pubs are emotional places then maybe I can change you mind by the end of this post.

The last few posts have not been a blow by blow account of my drinking whilst in the UK, as I mentioned in one of them, I haven't posted about drinking Tennents in the Station Hotel in Alness, or my afternoon pub crawl in Inverness. I've not discussed drinking London Pride and Guinness at Lords while the rain stopped play ad nauseum, meeting Phil Tufnell at the Danubius Hotel bar, or the Harvey's Sussex Best at The Washington in Hampstead. Not everything needs to be shared, and in some cases there are blanks in my memory...

As is probably evident, I was taken aback at how much I really enjoyed the kind of bitters that get roundly derided as being "boring" and "brown". I have mentioned several times that I am working on formulating a version of my best bitter that incorporates crystal malt, and indeed I have an ordinary bitter on keg right now that has some crystal 40 in it, but it is still rather paler than the beers I reveled in back in the UK, so I guess I need to buy some crystal 120, or maybe even some 260 if Murphy & Rude ever make that again. It is also a result of at least one bitter, in this case a strong bitter, that has me hunting for a supply of Admiral hops. I've played around with some of the newer British hops, especially Endeavour, and while Admiral isn't really all that modern, having been released in the 1990s, I feel like I need to explore beyond Goldings, Fuggles, and Challenger a bit more, especially given this autumn and winter could very easily become the season of Bitter.

The main thought that has pottered and re-pottered around my noggin is just what a fantastic place the British pub is, whether that incarnation is in Inverness or Westminster. Of course every serious beer drinking country has it's pubs, from Ireland to Czechia, and all stops in between, people love to drink in communal locations rather than just getting battered at home. Perhaps it's that there isn't an undercurrent of puritanical shame about going for a pint or two and just hanging out, there doesn't need to be a purpose or an excuse to go for a drink. Anyway, back to British pubs - and of course this is all just subjective - but being, still, even at nearly 51, a rather introverted person, I find it interesting that going into a British pub is the easiest thing in the world for me. Let me give you an example, a few years ago, back in the before times (you know when I mean), I went to Bamberg, and had several pints of magnificent beer at Schlenkerla. Before I could muster up the courage to enter those hallowed halls, I had walked past the door several times, scoping out the flow of patrons, the places to sit, and the general vibe. When I went to any pub in the UK, there was none of that, I would just go straight in the door, get my pint and worry about where to sit, or stand, when I got there.

I realise that actually says more about me not wanting to stand out as the obvious outsider with my rusty school boy German, which brings me back to the introvert within. I feel instantly at home in the British pub because I can so easily be anonymous, and I love being anonymous. Let me sit with my beer and just people watch, and when I am ready for another pint, I will address myself to the stout yeoman of the bar. I have got used to table service, you really have no other choice in the US, and most places in Europe to be honest, but I love going up to the bar to get my next pint. It's almost a diagnostic thing, it's easier to tell how tiddled you are if you have to walk to and from the bar, half way with a pint in your hand, hopefully one that you're not slopping all over the place. With table service you are insulated from that until it is time to leave and suddenly your head spins as you get to your feet.

It likewise struck me that for such a country so renowned for our reserve, the pub is the place we let our guard down and open up a little, and perhaps becomes a little more observant of, and for, our fellow human beings. For example, I was standing in the St James Tavern, tending a pint of London Pride, enjoying the buzz of an early Friday evening crowd. To my left a couple were standing at the bar, clearly wanting to find a table to sit at, being 6'4" (that's 1.93m in the modern world), I could see a table opening up on the other side of the bar, so I let the couple know and off they tottered to claim those seats. Again, I am not the kind of person to just point things out to people in the normal run of things, but put a pint in my hand in a pub, and that goes out the window a little - don't worry I don't turn into mister gregarious or anything crazy, and I am not sure the rumours of me smiling a little in the pub are true or not. So, yeah, I miss the pub.

The weird thing here is, I left the United Kingdom nearly three decades ago as a 23 year old, and since then I have probably been home fewer than a score times. I have drunk in hospody, bierhalle, brewery taprooms, and cafes far more regularly than I have a British pub, yet the sense of instant familiarity stays with me, like a well loved security blanket whenever I get back to the UK. I have been told in the dim and distant past that I am more "pub-centric" in my approach to beer than a craft beer fan, and there is a lot of truth to that. Pubs, regardless of where you find them, are special, almost liminal places and we fail to value them at our peril.

South and North

This is the last of my posts about my trip to the UK a few weeks ago, mainly because I didn't really take lots of pictures of the many beers I drank while I was there. For example, I have no pictures from the wonderful pub crawl I went on in Inverness with a long time friend of mine, unless you are interested in Aitken founts that is (and if you are interested, Black Isle Bar & Rooms on Church Street is the place to go). Even for this post, I only have a couple of pictures.

With the conference over, we arranged to meet at Piccadilly Circus, but I had about 90 minutes before meeting up, so I dropped my laptop at my hotel, nipped to Westminster Abbey to get a key chain of the venerable building for one of my sons, and experienced unexpected garden envy.

To get to Piccadilly Circus from Westminster Abbey, I had decided to skirt St James' Park on Horse Guards Road, past the Horse Guards Parade - being an army brat it was instantly recognisable from many viewings of Trooping the Colour on TV. Before you reach the Parade itself, you pass Duck Island Cottage, which had the delightful garden you can see above, it made me miss my little garden back in Virginia.

I have to admit that walking around the City of Westminster was one of my favourite things, and the stroll from Westminster Abbey to Piccadilly was a delight, though obviously with a distinct lack of traffic cones on the statuary. Even so, I had badly mistimed how long it would take, and so ended up at Piccadilly Circus a good 30 minutes before I had arranged to meet everyone else. What to do then? Well, find a pub obviously, so I looked up pubs in the streets just off the Circus itself. St James Tavern it was then, a corner pub where Great Windmill Street meets Shaftesbury Avenue. Finding a spot at the bar, I may have mentioned this before, but I loved being in buzzing, busy pubs again, I squeezed in and ordered a pint of London Pride.

By this point in my trip, I was having an identity crisis, as I was actively enjoying pints of best made with crystal malts, and London Pride fresh from cask is such a lovely beer, even without a sparkler on the swan neck. Perhaps it is a case of absence making the heart grow fonder, and in many ways this is stating the obvious, compared to the stuff we get in Virginia, proper Pride is night and day. I reviewed my Old Friends post about Pride as I was drinking this first pint, and the biggest difference is the brightness of being fresh, and the hops are actually obviously present. Since returning to the US, I have longed to just sit in a London pub enjoying multiple pints of fresh Pride. As it was, I had time for a second before meeting up with the folks I was at the conference with.

I wish I could remember the pub that we went to immediately after meeting, but eventually we wound our way to a Sam Smiths pub called the Glasshouse Stores. This was the first time I had ever been in a Sam Smith's pub, and unfortunately they didn't have any of their famous beers on cask, everything was keg. Having got our orders in, I started on my trek through the various bitters available, we snagged a seat, all the while keeping a beady eye on the table in the charming bay window, so we could relocate once it was available. It wasn't long before we took our opportunity, and by this time I had relished the dark mild as my precursor to the bitters - a lovely beer from memory, the kind of thing that would make for a wonderful autumnal session with the rain pouring outside. I had also had the first of a couple of pints of Sovereign Bitter. Eventually though I would settle on the Old Brewery Bitter as my tipple of choice, no doubt lamenting aloud that it wasn't on cask.

Apparently we moved on to a few other stops, but I have no pictures of those, either mental or on my camera - yeah, drinking at scale happened and it had started to gently rain...I may have got myself a little turned around walking back to my hotel, but eventually I made it to my bed and gratefully collapsed in a heap.

Timmy in Thames Town

Having left the Westminster Arms, I had a very particular pub to wander to, for family reasons that are probably daft. I had promised my younger twin son that I would visit a pub called The Albert, as that is his first name.

The Albert is a Greene King pub, but it is also listed on the Timothy Taylor website's Pub Finder tool as a permanent stockist of their beers, so I knew that if nothing else took my fancy there would be something from Timothy Taylor as a guest beer. Sure enough, once I had squeezed my way through the crowd - something I loved about being back in the UK was seeing groups of pub-goers standing with pints on the street, I immediately spotted the Timothy Taylor Landlord pump clip and knew what I was going to drink.

From memory - taking notes in a crowded pub was very much not on the schedule - Landlord in The Albert was in good nick, wonderfully hoppy, and far too easy to down in a handful of mouthfuls. Landlord is a classic for a reason, and eventually I need to brew myself a clone recipe, especially taking into account the evolution of the Timothy Taylor yeast to require invert sugar - every other attempt I have made has been all malt, and I think that is a mistake.

One of my plans, which in traditional manner went agley, was to find a pub with Boltmaker on the pumps, but that never materialised for various reasons, I did however bump into Golden Best at the Sanctuary House Hotel, a Fullers venue just a couple of doors down from my hotel. It was the second day of my trip to London, and the first of the conference I was attending. I had spent the evening having dinner near Piccadilly Circus, with the incredible folks my company is working with on a major project, and had ambled my way back through St James' Park, with last orders nearing. Having ascertained that I had enough time, the last pint of the night was ordered.

Golden Best, despite the name giving hints in other directions, is a pale mild and a brand new to me beer. Despite having never had it before, it served as an inspiration for the pale mild, that I call Summer Mild, currently on tap on my downstairs kegerator - yes, there is also an upstairs kegerator. Anyway, to Golden Best, what a freaking delicious beer it was, in stunning condition, had I had time I would have had a second. I found it particularly interesting that a beer that, according to the their website, uses the same ingredients as Landlord is so completely different in flavour from its more illustrious counterpart. Say it quietly, but if both were available at a bar, I might actually be more tempted to Golden Best than to Landlord, which may just be heresy, who knows?

So while I completely failed to locate Boltmaker, and as such my clone recipe plan that I mentioned in a previous post has been postponed (unless of course Timothy Taylor are reading this and want to send me a care package, erm..."commercial samples"), one thing become abundantly clear, should I see a Timothy Taylor pump clip, whenever, and wherever, I am in the UK, I will be indulging.

The Westminster Arms

I have something of a soft spot for Kent's Shepherd Neame. It was their Bishop's Finger that got me into better beer than the keg swill I would drink as a younger man after all, as well as a friend in Prague having been a barman in an SH pub. Whenever I get back to the UK, which is nowhere near as often as I would like, I will pick up a few bottles of Shepherd Neame beers, usually the aforementioned Bishop's Finger, but also their Double Stout and even <gasp> the India Pale Ale. However, and for obvious reasons, Shepherd Neame pubs are few and far between in the Highlands of Scotland, and I don't think I have ever seen a Shepherd Neame beer on a beer engine at any of the pubs I frequent when I go home. Having a few days then in London was the opportunity to find the nearest Shepherd Neame pub to my hotel and dive into their range a bit more.

Given that my hotel was just yards from Westminster Abbey, said nearest Shepherd Neame pub was The Westminster Arms. On arriving at my hotel, being given the key, and heading up to my room, I opened the door to discover that it was still in the throes of being cleaned. As such, I ditched my main case, slung the bag I use as a laptop bag over my shoulder and wandered off to locate the pub and catch up with work over a couple of pints.

Thankfully it was a mere 3 minute walk, and what a delightfully charming pub The Westminster Arms is (photo credit: the image is from the Westminster Arms website). Apparently the pub has recently undergone a refurbishment, and as I went through the door, I was presented with an archetypal British pub, as Tweedy Pubs would say, "a pubby pub". Everything was wooden, there were nooks and crannies with stools and ledges for drinking at, and on the bar a clutch of handpumps. I knew immediately what I was going to have, partly because there wasn't Bishop's Finger on the pumps, but also because I wanted to start with something a little more sessionable.

I took my pint, went downstairs to the basement bar, and found myself a perch at a table, set my laptop up, and took my first ever mouthful of Master Brew.

Master Brew is Shepherd Neame's ordinary bitter, with an ABV of 3.7%, and clearly it is in the tradition that naysayers often deride as "boring brown bitter". It is, though, anything but boring, at least in my opinion. It was moreish, deeply, deeply moreish in fact. I think that first pint was gone before I had even been able to hook into the wifi and log into my email. I had to head back upstairs to the main bar to get a second pint as Master Brew wasn't on the downstairs hand pumps. One of the many things that I loved about this, and to be fair most other bitters I had in and around London, was they were properly bitter, with dollops of hop bitterness to scrape away the crystal malt character - weirdly I was starting to become sure I needed to do some experimentation with my house bitter. What was going on? Had it been on the pumps downstairs I might never have ventured from it.

It was during my second pint that a group of Americans made their way down to the basement, and proceeded to make me almost despair that real ale will ever be anything other than a niche in the US, so embedded is the collective ignorance of cask ale in the popular consciousness. Yeah, sorry folks, we writers can blather on as much as we want about places doing real ale, but it's not getting outside of our bubble. One of the group approached the bar and ordered a Spitfire, but a lady sat in the booth they had plonked in yelled across the bar to "make sure you get the Spitfire lager, not the cask, the cask is warm". Now, I prefer Master Brew and Bishop's Finger to Spitfire, but this notion that unless your beer is as cold as penguin feet it is "warm" really needs to be put to bed. I may have started ranting via text message to my long time collaborator, Mark. I had at this point moved on to Whitstable Bay Pale Ale for a palate reset, when across the bar I heard the most ridiculous thing I have heard in many years, and here I quote:

"don't tell the pastor we are in a pub drinking beer".

Admittedly I have some sympathy with this, given that when I was studying theology with a view to a religious calling, I would often go to the pub to unwind and the thought of being spotted gnawed away at my guilt riddled soul. But, you know, I don't recall ever announcing to the entire bar that I really shouldn't have been there, and to not share this information with the leadership of my church. It reminded me of folks I know who when in Prague moved their beer to the other side of the table for pictures, so their religious friends wouldn't think they were drinking when it hit social media. Thankfully, though painfully slowly as the group worked its way through their one pint of Spitfire lager for about 45 minutes, they eventually toddled off steeped in English sin, so I had another Master Brew, beautifully cask conditioned, at perfect cellar temperature, and everything a English bitter is at its best, or most ordinary, if you get my reference.

Having caught up with work, had a fantastic rambling chat with the lads behind the bar - top fellows! - it was time to find some food, maybe another couple of beers, which we'll get to, and get myself prepared for the conference I was in town for. Clearly though, if I ever find myself staying in Westminster again, the Westminster Arms will be top of my list for pubs to get back to, it was just a perfect afternoon of great beer in a proper pub.