A little later than planned (due to a malaise brought upon by a rather jovial stag weekend in Dublin celebrating the imminent nuptials of my pal Gareth) I’ve finally got around to collating entries to this month's session. Positing that there’s not enough proper critique in beer writing compared, say, to restaurant or wine writing, I asked writers to deliver a critique of their own, and received nine different responses. I also published my own critique, with interesting results, and I’ll share a bit more insight on that after the roundup.
If you contributed to Session #145 and don’t see your post in this list please share the link with me and I’ll update this post accordingly.
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To start, over at A Good Beer Blog Alan McLeod—who has been liberally applying critique to beer writing for as long as I’ve been reading it—considers the act of critique within beer writing at large. He references the late Michael Jackson, who famously said if he didn’t like a beer he simply wouldn’t write about it, instead choosing to focus on the positive. Alan also gives some good examples of writers within the beer space who he considers are already delivering critique well.
Last month’s hosts Boak & Bailey penned a thoughtful piece about the Bristol branch of the Zerodegrees brewpub chain. It’s an interesting take on what they perceive to be a reduction in quality as the outfit aims for mass appeal.
Chris O’Leary, renowned brewery visitor and author of Brew York (not to be confused with the York-based brewery of the same name) cuts straight to the chase, reflecting on being a judge at a beer competition in New York City, and what value the awards received by the victorious breweries actually have.
The monosyllabic Ding of Ding’s Beer Blog briefly pontificates on the notion of criticism in beer and how that has changed within beer culture itself, as it has shifted over the past 20 or 30 years. Interestingly, he closes by saying “most of the beer industry isn’t remotely interested in such a pursuit.” To which I would respond that brewery owners and brewers themselves probably aren’t interested in seeing their beer get critiqued, but the people who pay for it most definitely are, as I’ll get on to later in this post.
At his beer and history blog Beer et Seq, beer writer and historian Gary Gillman uses the lens of critique to look at where modern IPA sits within beer culture. Interestingly, he looks at how modern breweries have done wonders in recreating historic styles such as pilsner, and Belgian abbey beers, but have gone in the opposite direction with this most auspicious of beer styles. More traditional English IPAs, Gary? That’s something we can both agree on.
In a similar but not-quite-the-same theme to Gary, Joey Leskin of Beer in the City took to Instagram to lament the state of British lager. He wants more indie breweries to brew more great lager, which I think is something we can all get behind. Except (sorry Joey) I would disagree and say there already is a good amount of indie lager, but access to market for those breweries preventing them from appearing on most bars is the true elephant in the room. [Disclosure: I’ve recently finished mentoring Joey via a six-month scheme organised by the British Guild of Beer Writers.]
Someone who knows a proper critique like the back of his hand is John Duffy, who’s been producing plenty of it on his blog, The Beer Nut, since time immemorial. As expected, there’s no time spent navel gazing here, as he strides into an excellently written review of Shadow Dancing extra stout from Dublin’s Third Barrel Brewing. That’s the stuff.
The Extreme Housewife herself Laura Hadland (who was also on the receiving end of Alan’s rapturous praise) considered the topic of critique itself, and my own consideration that there’s not enough of it in beer writing. Part musing, part rebuttal, she gives plenty of examples of the critique she’s been dutifully working on, before considering the pitfalls that producing critique can potentially open up for its writer.
Coming in late with an interesting angle was Phil Cook, who at Beer Diary took aim at pubs that block bars with an “unbroken barricade of barstools” and the need for a dedicated service area in such situations. It’s a really interesting take on the topic, looking at accessibility and comfort, and what makes a good bar appealing. [Editor’s Note: Phil actually took me to Golding’s once and I can confirm it is both very accessible and comfortable.]
And last but certainly not least is Stan Heironymus at Appellation Beer who I am very glad did not decide to discuss the topic of terroir in beer. Instead he took a look at how an interesting collaboration between Sweden’s Omnipollo and Colorado’s Lyric Brewing came about via Instagram. At first I was annoyed because, despite multiple trips to Colorado, I am yet to try any beers from Lyric and he gave a can to John ‘The Beer Nut’ Duffy on a recent trip to Ireland. But I very much enjoyed the review, and I enjoyed that he made a point of disagreeing with something Garrett Oliver said about New England IPAs a few years ago. Now there’s two people I’d like to put in a room together and see what they’d have to say about a lack of (or not) critique in beer writing.
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Now that we've dealt with the roundup, I’d like to talk a little about why I chose the subject I did for my own entry and give you a little look behind the curtain, so to speak. For my review I visited a new bar in Manchester called The Trading Route which is offering a special “slow pour” serve of its house lager brewed by Manchester Union Brewery, but it wasn’t offered when me and a friend visited in early February.
As you might have guessed, my reason for choosing this topic is selfish, because I want to write more critique about beer and pubs. But, as a freelance journalist, at present no one will hire me to do so, despite a relatively frequent pitching of ideas to various publications. This is not because I don’t think there’s a lack of desire for critiques, more because most editors outside of the specialist media bubble I work within perceive that there is a lack of desire for writing about beer.
I know this is wrong, because I run a magazine that is largely about beer, and I know that lots of people read it. You might say “well in that case why don’t you just write more critique for your own magazine,” and that is for various reasons, largely simply not having enough time. But Pellicle is a project that intentionally involves working with lots of different writers, and deliberately funnelling resources just to indulge my own impulses doesn’t feel like the best use of said resources to me.
The other important thing is that Pellicle is a home for fully fleshed-out ideas with proper substance, that will then go through a rigorous editing process before they’re ready for public consumption. I’ve returned to blogging this year because I think getting the multitude of ideas I’ve been sitting on for months out in a way that is not bound to this process, or to the whims of a particular editor is really valuable. Writing is important, and it doesn’t matter if you’re an experienced journalist or you’re writing your first ever piece, the most important thing is that you get it done, and then move on to the next one. As I enter my 10th year as a full-time professional writer, I consider this blog to be the best place to try out ideas, and figure out what does and doesn’t work.
I’m also in the process of researching the second edition of Manchester’s Best Beer Pubs and Bars so over the next year I will be spending a lot of time visiting pubs and drinking beer in them with a more critical eye than usual. This was one such visit and I felt inspired to write the review the moment my beer was not poured as advertised. I now also feel compelled to write more like it because, fascinatingly, it did roughly the same traffic as a typical Pellicle piece. And it provoked active debate on Instagram, going as far as to drawing public comment from the venue’s owner (who, I will caveat, I have known professionally for several years.) Publishing it taught me that there is value in critique, both to the people who decided to read it, and to me, because I really enjoyed writing it. Not only did it give me a chance to write in a way I rarely get commissioned to, but it let me write about Manchester, which is another thing I want to do more of. So I shall.
Before I sign off, one more thing I’d like to share is a review that was published by my favourite food magazine Vittles (who I am fortunate enough to have written for a couple of times in the past.) As part of their regular Friday restaurant section Hester van Hensbergen wrote an absolutely hilarious takedown of the current residency at London restaurant Isla, and the notion of the “pasta boyfriend.” Its timing couldn’t have been better, not just because it’s exactly the type of writing I’d like to see more of in beer, but because coming from a food publication like this, it just felt totally normal. I would like beer to get to a point where writers are confident enough to write without fear, and with full conviction about beers and pubs that aren’t very good, as well as ones that really are. I consider that this sort of writing would be incredibly valuable. But, most importantly I just feel that people would really enjoy it, and the knock on effect of that is more people reading about beer.
With that, I’m off to whip up a bowl of rigatoni alla vodka for Dianne. Next month’s Session is #146 and will be hosted by Ding. Keep an eye on their blog for its announcement.