Ring, ring.
Ring, ring.
“Hello, this
is the Concrete Cow Brewery how can I help you?"
"Hello, I
would like buy some concrete…”
Despite the
clue being in the name, the Concrete Cow Brewery regularly gets calls asking if
they can supply building materials. “No”, they explain politely, “but we can
sell you some delicious real ale or craft beer. It’s very reasonable and made
right here in Milton Keynes.” After
being re-educated in using the yellow pages, on this occasion the caller is
left not with several tonnes of concrete, but instead, with details of a local
shop selling MK IPA, Concrete Cow’s newest brew-up. They also put the phone
down confident in the knowledge that supporting a local micro brewery, rather
than buying concrete, is clearly the best use of their time and money.
“Sometimes,” Dan explains to me, “they do actually buy some beer. So I can’t
get too annoyed about it.”
Dan is the
owner, receptionist, Master Brewer, delivery driver, warehouse manager, sales
manager and PR hurricane that makes up the Concrete Cow Brewery and he very
graciously gave me a few hours of his time to ask him odd questions and
generally make a nuisance of myself in and around the actual work that he had
to do.
After
inviting myself along, I found the Concrete Cow Brewery on an industrial estate
just round the corner from Bradwell Abbey in MK. The unassuming door hides a
unit containing a mixture of crates, boxes, tubs, barrels, kegs, crates and all
kinds of shiny machinery that seem very complicated and very expensive. We
started our conversation talking about all the processes, as well as the various
definitions of beer making and providing a context between real ale (a live
beer with yeast, no artificial carbonation and must be pulled through on the
pump), a craft beer (can be carbonated and cooled) and a lager (commercial vs the real deal as they are completely different beasts). All of which was seemed amazingly detailed and subtle in
application of the definition. Dan found his way through explanations of
storage requirements, filtering and levels of carbonation that were both
fascinating and bewildering in equal measure but it was when we got onto the
subject of the man himself that I really saw who the Concrete Cow Brewery really
was.
Eight years
ago, Dan got a home brew kit and spent a couple of months telling friends and
family that he brewed his own beer. So far, so normal but a couple of months
later the words ‘micro-brewery’ entered his life. What? People are actually brewing beer
in their house for a living..? Six months later, a delivery arrived:
Eighteen
months after that he wanted to shut everything off, sell up and go back to the
day job. “You just don’t appreciate the situation when you first sign the invoice, everything went wrong. It was just so difficult, no orders, no money, nothing. I tell all the new boys
who come to see me now that they have got to understand what they’re getting
themselves into” Dan explains with brutal honesty. You see, being around for
eight years means that Dan is now teaching other micro-breweries the tricks, an
irony which is not lost on him; “They ask me as if I know what I’m talking
about. I keep recipes but sometimes I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do
before I do it. They ring me up and ask if they can come over and do a brew
with me. I usually say ’OK, so long as you bring a packet of Hobnobs.”
Dan started
out trying to rally against the commercial Tsunami of underwhelming and
generally tasteless lagers and beers that threaten to submerge you in marketing
terms such as ‘cold filtered’ and ‘fresh’, he even has a few choice words to
say about the ale drinkers friend; ‘bottle conditioned’ beer. “Bottle
conditioned?” he exclaims, “It’s filtered then re-seeded with yeast and sugar,
it’s not very authentic, but it is consistent.” And that is where The Concrete
Brewery has found it’s place. Genuine effort, bloody mindedness and not a
little amount of swearing goes into making sure every drop that comes out of
the tank is authentic. Dan knows his product is clean because he can tell you
(and show you) exactly what went into (and came out off) every single batch, it’s
pure because it’s not filtered.
So now that
I’ve spouted off about his mission statement, what is Dan’s beer actually like?
Although regular readers will know that I am quite the butterfly when it comes
to alcoholic preferences, as I flit, full of poise and grace from beer, to wine
to Jagermeister and back again*. We tried his IPA that is proudly being canned
on his very new, and very shiny, canning machine.
The beer is
light and golden, slightly carbonated and best served cold. At 5% it’s punchy and
the hops coming through certainly give the ale drinkers among us something to
chew on. The aftertaste continues with a pleasant bitterness that smooths off
as quickly as it comes, it’s relaxing, refreshing and pretty much perfect for
an afternoon in the sunshine. The head is frothy and aromatic with floral whiffs
of a great English country garden, plus, at £10 for a six pack it’s as cheap as
any supermarket beer you care to mention. “Value is really important” says Dan,
“you can’t compete unless your product is giving value.” To be honest, forgetting
the fact that it’s local, the fact that it’s genuinely authentic and the fact
that Dan works his knackers off to make it, £1.66 for a beer that tastes like
this is not just good value, it’s bloody amazing.
Industry
figures tell us that ale is on the rise and organisations like CAMRA are
spearheading it’s popularity, but aren't we just replacing one mass produced
opinion with another? You will only get product at the supply levels required
for the supermarkets if there is a homogenised and clinical manufacturing
process. And that’s fine, we can all drink whatever we like. Sometimes I like a
cold, fizzy light lager. Sometimes I like a dark, rich pint with a head so
thick that I can rest a pork scratching on it and sometimes I want something
in-between. But above all, I want to know what I'm drinking and the only way to
know that is to find out where, how and who produces it. What I see in the
Concrete Cow Brewery is a man on a never-ending mission to produce something that
reflects who he is in a glass; sometimes light, sometimes dark but always easy
to drink. There is room for lager, ale, craft but regardless of what you drink, you can’t ask for more than a product created in small batches and
carefully produced with the sole principle of being what a beer could and
should be.
*Or at least
that’s the way I like to see myself. Mrs P says that ‘flitting’ isn’t quite
right and has suggested words such as ‘lurching’, ‘stumbling’ then ‘crawling’
and finally simply ‘dribbling’.
No comments:
Post a Comment