A Sporting Summer

It seems I once again have to start a blog with an apology for not writing sooner? I hope none of you are avid blog followers and disappointed on a regular basis. Life as a Brewer just seems to be so busy of late. I could say it’s all work, work, work and by and large, it all is, but I do get to participate in some fun work related activities.

 

As I ‘pen’ this latest update I am at my desk feeling a little stiff and suffering with a sore back. You may think I have been lifting too many casks of fine Palmers Ale, which is partially true, but my main issue was caused by a high speed impact with a fellow competitor on a karting circuit. In my defence I was trying to get out of the way, but do understand the other drivers helpful hand gesture and that it would have helped had I not been doing a U-turn at the end of the main straight!

 

It was all going so well up until the point I decided that I didn’t need to brake and could still hit the apex of the hairpin. On a circuit where Jensen cut his teeth I momentarily thought I was Buttonesque and basically lost it! The impact was fairly severe, but at least the other kart that was heading towards me missed me. It’s just a shame for him that he didn’t miss the barrier too and he would not have scattered so many tyres all over the track. Oh well it was really only a ‘racing incident, and it was a Charity event after all.

 

We see so much about how good sport is for you and the recent Olympics have left us a ‘Legacy’. Despite being able to build on school sports grounds we now look forward to a generation that can play competitive sport again and will see the resurgence of inter school matches of Rugger, Footie and Cricket.

Now there is a game for gentlemen. What better than a light ripple of applause as the sound of leather on willow results in another glorious cover drive for a further 4 runs in the book. As brewers and of course gentlemen, we challenge our fellow brewers to a ‘friendly’ few overs on a summers evening.

Away to Brains Brewery was a rather one-sided affair with Palmers easing past a smallish total at a canter.  I hasten to add I was once again injured (bruised foot from a weekend cricket match) and spent the match stood at square leg. Now the Square Leg Umpire has a nice little task in the evening sunshine, with the occasional gentlemanly appeal for an improbable run out or stumping. On this occasion we had managed to replace the injured Head Brewer with a slightly younger lad who happened to be a Somerset Cricket Coach and a rather handy County standard wicket keeper! Once I realised that he was ‘stood up’ to even the sharpest of the Palmers bowlers I had a torrid time watching the batsmen’s footwork as he frequently whipped of the bales. Boy did I need a pint at the end of that innings – Brains Bitter of course, as we were playing ‘away’.

A week later came the big game for the ‘Malsters Shovel’ against fellow Dorset brewers and cricket rivals Hall & Woodhouse. Fighting fit and regaining my place (Somerset needed their coach!). I was asked to open…which of course I gracefully declined (Open me?) and quickly plummeted to Number 7 on the batting order. I did get to weld the willow rather sooner than expected in a 20 over bash. I must say it is always nice to get to the crease facing a ‘hat trick ball’ with an expectant close ring of fielders baying for blood. Fortunately I managed to turn the first delivery off my pads for a scampered single and held my end up for my batting partner to complete a well crafted Fifty. In my repertoire of shots was a graceful drive to the boundary (OK it was a bit of a flat batted swat a la Peterson?) and a few nicks and nurdles for a crafty 8 not out. Brewers job done. A few pints of Copper Ale were downed in celebration of another victory.

The sporting summer finishes with the Annual Palmers Staff Golf Challenge at the wonderful cliff top links of Bridport & West Dorset Golf Club. An informal evening open to members of the brewery team that have the desire (if not the ability) to swing a golf club and ‘spoil a good walk’ (was Mark Twain a wise man?). With prizes for endeavour, long drives and ‘nearest the pin’ it is a great way to round off a summer of sporting activities. Golfers (I use the word loosely) have a nice meal and down a few pints of ale as they explain how, if only they had hit the fairway, they would have had a long drive prize…in reality many need to concentrate more on actually hitting the ball…but who said sport should be competitive?

Busy times for a brewer…

I MUST say sorry to my readers, as I have simply not had the time I initially thought I would have to sit at my desk and write blogs! A combination of things over the previous few months have made my life a bit busier.

A few minor staff changes, designed to ensure we give the best possible customer service, resulted in a good deal of the Transport & Distribution administration falling on my desk. Basically, we needed more draymen on the lorries delivering to our expanding customer base. The result was a net loss of one person in the office to make this happen. As a team we all agreed to pick up different areas of ‘transport stuff’ and yours truly had to learn how our Opera II system actually works from the point of order capture to printing a delivery ticket. (To be honest, I think it would have been marginally easier to teach me to sing Opera – and I haven’t a note in my head!)

March, being our year end, also gave rise to lots of additional admin and with it came ‘Risk Assessment Review Time’ (joy of joys!). I don’t know how many of my readers actually have to do risk assessments, but it really is a ‘damp flannel on head time’ and lots of strong coffee as one wades through procedure after procedure to make sure nothing has changed or deviated from the last time. Just to put the icing on the proverbial cake, we also changed insurance companies for the brewery, so they all wanted a slice of the ‘risk assessment’ action which led to many technical tours of the brewery with ‘men in grey suits’!

mmm think of a number....

Just as we got on top of the April paperwork, we were treated to three consecutive short weeks and a lot of sunny weather. My new found skills on Opera were well and truly tested on a busy Good Friday whilst alone in the distribution office. Thankfully, the following Friday I went to London to experience the Royal Wedding festivities (no, I wasn’t in the Abbey) and relaxed in Hyde Park feeling very patriotic as I sipped Champagne. Being a brewer, I was full of Pride as William and Kate did their nuptials (to be honest, not that full, just 3 or 4 pints of Fullers’ London Pride.)

almost as good as Palmers....In London take Pride!

Many of you may know that I am also a Parish Councillor for my sins. So local elections and a major reshuffle of Burton Bradstock Parish Council left me overseeing village finance and chairing the Planning Committee… do I really have ‘give me job’ written on my forehead? I must say I do love the village I grew up in and now live in, and after 11 years on the PC I still maintain that if I resign it will become a bit of a “Surrey-on-Sea” with a lot of rich homeowners taking over with no real understanding of sustainable communities and how important those ‘nasty unsightly caravans’ are to the local economy.

looks a little cosy....

On a more positive note, it now seems to be Beer Festival season: again, it adds to my workload, but at least I get the chance to drink lots of lovely cask ale.  I set up the beers recently for the Bridport Round Table beer festival (yes, I am a Tabler – another job!) and the event made around £10k for local charities and good causes and that is very satisfying indeed. I will also be sending Palmers finest ales to beer festivals at Stevens Farm, North Perrott Cricket Club and Banks Arms beer festivals, so I can sense a few nights out testing quality… cheers!

Cheers!

Power To The People

‘We all know that people are the same wherever we go
There is good and bad in everyone
We learn to live, we learn to give
Each other what we need to survive together alive’*

Ebony and Ivory

Admit it you were singing along to this Paul McCartney/Stevie Wonder classic weren’t you? When you think a little deeper you are probably wondering what this has to do with brewing. How does a pop song about living together influence how we make Palmers finest ales?

The key to all that we are about is a small inconspicuous word in the first line – People.

We are all different, all have different attributes, all have different ambitions, all have different qualities. People is a plural of Person, in fact the plural should be more correctly ‘Persons’, but because we have this unifying social interaction with those around us we become a group of people.

Power to the People!

‘Power to the People’ was Woolfie’s chant as he emerged from Tooting Tube Station in the 1970s sitcom Citizen Smith. In this day and age, it really is true that people are getting more power and if you are running a brewery, then you need to empower the right people to do the right jobs in order to be successful.

The Chairman, Directors, Brewer, Telesales, Yardman, Draymen and all people in between need to think alike and work together. We are not just Persons, we are People ‘a group with particular unifying traits, qualities, properties, or characteristics’ and the unifying factor is our passion for brewing the finest ales and running great pubs.

More importantly it’s the people that drink in our pubs that matter – you the customers that have chosen to drink Palmers’ beer rather than another product. You are the people that Woolfie was referring to, the power to vote with your feet, the power of choice.

Nice pubs...

When in a Palmers pub you will be served by more people, the tenants and their teams. Another important group of people that is passionate about Palmers, that has the ‘unifying traits and qualities’ that make your Palmers experience special.

Our traditional brewery with its long family history is important. We continue to be ambitious with a strong sense of responsibility. We are proud of being in Dorset and are involved in our local community through participation and charitable work. We’re sometimes misunderstood, but Palmers is full of people like you, passionate about what we do. Power to the People!

Nice people....

Cheers
HB

*EBONY & IVORY LYRICS copyright Paul McCartney/Stevie Wonder and respective labels.
Citizen Smith photograph from BBC.CO.UK

Yellow Fizzy Stuff …….

As a brewer I can always appreciate different styles of beer. Obviously I have a passion for cask ale, but do not exclusively drink just beers brewed in the style I know so well. Sometimes after a good night out skittling and supping a few pints of Copper, I simply don’t feel like another night on the beer – so being a brewer I generally switch to Guinness (rather than Lager). It needs to be a warm balmy night for me to drink a pint of the yellow fizzy stuff (and I don’t mean Cider – as I am not a fan of fermented apples either!)

A passion for cask ale

Sometimes one simply cannot get a decent pint of ale. The reasons being mainly geographical depending on the County or Country you’re drinking in. Gone are the days of picking your drink by pub. With CAMRA and Cask Marque championing cask ale, hopefully quality is now consistent and good.

Nowadays, one also sometimes reflects on the price of a beer. I would never not have my drink of choice because the alternative is cheaper, but when travelling I am interested in the massive variation in price at the pump. Historically West Country folk drank cider due to its availability, refreshing taste and, if one is honest, it was a cheap alternative to more expensive ale and lager.

Drink up yee Cider...

Drinking an alternative is all well and good if there is one. Having recently returned from Down Under, my education on the yellow fizzy stuff is now complete. The household names of Fosters and Castlemaine XXXX are simply not in the bars, and the market is a diverse mix of Victoria Bitter, Tooheys New, Carlton Draught, Hahn Premium, to name but a few! Unfortunately they all pretty much fall into the ‘yellow fizzy stuff’ camp and lack what a cask ale brewer calls ‘flavour’!

Not so common Down Under

Don’t get me wrong, its ‘horses for courses’ and after a few hundred K’s in my camper van I enjoyed a bottle of Aussie Lager, but was still bemused in bars that whichever brand was my poison of choice, I couldn’t tell the difference? I soon got the hang of ordering a ‘Schooner’ rather than a ‘glass’ (a paltry 200ml) and this is where I started to notice the price.

Let’s be generous and say a pint of ale in Blighty is on average £2.90 and a pint and lager maybe as much as £4.00 in some trendy bars? In Australia, a schooner was around $AU6 and in today’s money that’s £3.75 for only 425ml, which is like paying £5 a pint.

If you wanted to be a bit trendy and drink Imported Heineken from the bottle, you could do so for $AU6.50 – while stocks last! (As you see I drank VB – I knew it was VB as it said it on the bottle?)

Heineken is imported and trendy

Believe me I am not talking about ‘trendy wine bars’ (as there are very few in Aussie) but Backpacker Bars and the local Hotel/Tab/Pokie parlour. It’s not just cold, fizzy and golden, it’s damn near the price of liquid gold to drink Down Under.

But all is not lost…. There is the occasional oasis in the desert. In the trendiest corner of Sydney, a suburb called The Rocks, sits the Lord Nelson Brewery Hotel. Not only does the happy smiling landlord serve his beers in pint glasses, he is also educated in the art of blending a decent slug of Hops with fine traditional malted barley in his 5 brl brew plant.

Lord Nelson Brewery Hotel, Sydney

I admit it’s not the cheapest bar in Sydney (again £5 a pint) but at least one could tell the beers apart and relish in some real flavour. Judging by the 5pm crowd of suited and booted gentlemen it’s not just there for us globe travelling Poms – the Aussies have some taste too!

Cheers!
HB

First Royal visit in 216 years

WE HAVE had a very exciting week here at the brewery. About a month or so ago, we found out that we were to receive a visit from ‘royalty’ and it was all a bit hush hush…

Could it be William?

You can imagine the excitement amongst the girls in the office when I let them believe it was Prince William coming to visit and had no trouble in letting them expand the story that he was ‘local’ due to his chopper training and drove through Bridport quite often.

A ‘knowing smile’ and a slight wink was all that was required, when they begged me to tell them who was coming.

“I am not allowed to say, but you’re getting very warm” was enough to keep the giggles going.

A week or so later a visit was confirmed. The Metropolitan Police joined the Dorset bobbies on their look around the brewery. A nice man from the bomb squad did an assessment and the visit was gathering pace. Still the girls thought they would get to see a future king who ‘looked good in his uniform’ (I didn’t know one of the girls had such a fetish!)

A man in uniform...

Of course a few in the know were privy to the correct information and knew it would be the Earl of Wessex coming to brew beer at Palmers. It was still fun letting them think Wills would be shaking hands and giving the odd peck on the cheek.

The lads in the brewery didn’t really care who was visiting. It still meant there was a lot of washing and cleaning to do. ‘Scrub that please’ and ‘can you pressure wash the whole yard?’ were the phrases of choice. ‘Paint this,’ ‘move that,’ ‘where does that live’ were working their way from the brewhouse to the cellar, across the yard, and into the offices.

The brewhouse

Every nook and cranny was explored and got washed or white washed. A new lid on the boiler feed tank was made ‘high priority’ and all tasks on the back burner were now on full boil status! The floor scrubber has never worked so hard in its life.

I was tasked with ‘curtains for the plaque’ and eventually had a cute little pair of drapes lovingly made to fit the ‘swish’ curtain runner we hacked to a quarter of its former length. Both myself and the carpenter are now experts in the intricacies of pull cords.

Royal chopper landed nearby

A final police walk through and the local dignitaries were assembled in our sparkling brewery yard. We watched the royal chopper land from the brewhouse window, the official Jaguar picked up the Earl and it was all systems go. The muttered words of ‘hello your Royal Highness’ were given a last practice in the now not so dark corners of the brewery.

A real genuine prince

After the initial nerves and many handshakes it was a very relaxed and pleasant morning for all who met the Earl. He was charming, interested and a very nice man. I know he wasn’t the dashing Prince William, but the girls were still excited the he was the first Royal visitor in Palmers 216 year history. He didn’t wear a uniform, but at least the girls got to meet a real genuine prince.

Its all about the service…

When you are next propped at the bar in your local Palmers pub, pint in hand, chatting with mates and putting the world to rights, have a brief thought about how that pint actually got into your hand.

A nice pint

 I often get asked what I do all day as a brewer. Obviously there is brewing the beer, but the vast majority of my working day revolves around customer service. Once the beer is in the cask, the next stage is getting that into the outlet, and ultimately into your glass. Nothing more complex than that. Just good old fashioned logistics and service. A simple system of receiving an order, loading a lorry, driving to the pub, delivering the beer, and pouring a pint… so why does it take up so much of my time?

We have 5 delivery vehicles (you may have noticed they are all now dark blue with our lovely new logos) and 5 working days per week to deliver beer (and about 1000 other product lines; wines, spirits, lagers, ciders, soft drinks etc) to the pubs. Palmers have 55 of our own but also sell to around 400 other accounts on a weekly basis.

Do the maths, that’s 18.2 pubs a day per vehicle. Each and every one of those customers is important to us.



Palmers Lorry

Let us look at distance. We deliver as far as London, north to the M4 and down to Plymouth in the West. Can you start to imagine how difficult it is to drive to those 18 pubs per day in the summer traffic.

Despite our best efforts some things will always be out of our control, and if my team in distribution had a penny for every phone call that inquired where their delivery was, they would all be rich and have no need to work. The vast majority of our customers understand the issues, but we can never please all of the people all of the time!

Another nice pint

As your order your second pint, whilst contemplating how a big lorry actually gets down that lane, your licensee may change the barrel. How does he or she know how many to order? What happens if they run out? Will you drink a different beer? What if your beer is too warm? (or too cold) Who looks after that?

Now you can start to build a picture of a brewer’s working day. If they order too little it is us that gets the call for more. Of course we will get you some more, it’s just how will we do it? If there is a dispense issue, again it’s us they call. My brilliant Technical Services Manager on the road fixing and sorting. Looking after customers. Also the occasional cask in his van as ‘we didn’t order enough, can we have another cask of Dorset Gold?’ Of course you can.

If all else fails its the dray!

Sales Executives (posh name!) and even Directors cars can be requisitioned to ‘pop a cask of beer out’. The next issue becomes staffing – more vehicles equals more drivers. Again a brewer’s task to ensure all areas of the brewery can operate and we can still deal with all the little ‘extras’.

Don’t get me wrong – I love my job – but it can be quite testing at times. Now I must get on as writing blogs, although important in today’s world as you are all my customers, is not helping me get my Duty Return done!

Cheers!

HB

Catch the Pigeon

I DON’T know about you, but when I see a pigeon sitting on a pavement minding its own business, I can never resist the temptation to see how close I can get to catching it.

Do you know anybody that has ever succeeded… no, you don’t? Pigeons, and in fact all birds, are much quicker than they look because they have very quick heart beats and a general state of awareness. A great advantage, if you have to fly, as the heightened alertness is very useful if you want to avoid crashing.

Catch the Pigeon

Pigeons’ other great skill (apart from their homing ability?) is that they are very good at sniffing out food and working out how to get it.

Can you imagine what a temptation a brewery full of lovely malted barley is to a flock of our grey feathered friends?

We have a very strict policy on ‘pest control’ with all openings being covered in wire mesh and a recording system where we log any breaches in security.

Well, yesterday, the security was breached by probably the fattest wood pigeon I have ever seen!

The Malt Loft is the best part of 50 meters long with a low ceiling and only about 2 meters wide; it is basically a corridor with malt storage rooms down one side.

As I was locking up I heard that distinctive contented “Coo Coo” coming from a beam above me. Head cocked on one side, ‘Woody’ was giving me that look of ‘I have managed to get in… and I’m hungry’.

“Coo Coo”

Obviously, the thought crossed my mind – how much can one pigeon actually eat and should I just hope it gets bored and goes away when it’s full up? Then I envisaged just how much pigeon poo could accidently end up in the malt and ‘catch the pigeon’ was put into operation.

First attempt was the ‘sneak up and nab him approach’ – a good effort in my view, but Woody flipped to the next beam as my flailing arms swung aimlessly in his direction.

My simple brewer’s mind thought ‘I nearly had him’ but six attempts later, and now starting to build up a sweat, I decided to rethink my approach.

Sneaky

Opening the end doors to the Malt Loft and chasing him out was plan B. Still sitting halfway down the room, looking at me head cocked, and now thinking this man in a white coat was having lots of fun, I think Woody was actually enjoying our little game?

Holding my labcoat out so I made myself look really big (in fact more like a big demented white butterfly) I ran at Woody’s perch and chased him towards the open doors of freedom.

Yelling like a Banshee and making the noise of a charging Buffalo, I pursued him to the opening and was sure I saw him go out? I quickly locked the doors with a victorious flourish.

Catch the Pigeon!

See, pigeons may be quick, but men are intelligent. A simple avian species is no match for Homosapien. I strutted down the Malt Loft and went to switch off the lights.

“Coo Coo”, I stopped and listened, “Coo Coo”, I turned to see Woody sat in the malt hopper having his supper, looking at me as if he had worked up a hunger as we played our little game of chase…

I went to buy a gun (only joking!)

Cheers!
HB

Grandfather Palmer loved his whisky

LOOKING UP from the brewer’s desk I often think about the strange ‘slide rule thingy’ (as it is affectionately known) that is propped in the corner of my office.

It is more correctly known as a Dring & Fage Proof Rule. Dring & Fage had the enviable title of ‘London Makers To The Customs & Excise’… but it is still a ‘slide rule thingy’ to me and every time I use it I am completely baffled!

Today is one of those such times.

For nigh on a hundred years, Palmers have been aging hogsheads of Malt and Grain Whisky for use in the blends of our own label ‘Golden Cap Whisky’ which is named after the highest point on the South coast. Next time you’re in a Palmers pub look out for a gallon bottle behind the bar offering those ‘house doubles’ or ask the licensee about how smooth it tastes ‘because its 50% Glen Grant malt.’

The hogsheads (54 gallon casks to you and me!) are aged for 3 years in their bonnie homeland and then get shifted to Palmers Bonded Store for another 5 years.

Although one of the biggest buildings in Bridport, it is hardly visible to those not searching for it. The more inquisitive eye will notice the faded ‘Customs & Excise’ stencilled on the thick double padlocked door.

Casks are rolled from the inner depths of this cool dank warehouse onto the awaiting Palmers Dray. It takes three burly men to manhandle a full hogshead up the rickety wooden skids to the lorry bed. I always feel like a smuggler with a ‘barrel of rum’ as the slowing motorists watch us struggle with the ancient wooden casks. The bond doors open for a fleeting moment to give passers by a glimpse into a dark secret world and an aroma of oldness with a hint of whisky.

Whisky casks in the Bonded Store

Once back at the brewery, we use a somewhat more modern handling system of forklifts and electric hoists to get the Glen Grant (Malt Whisky) and the North British (Grain whisky) into the blending area. We still use the traditional method of getting the bungs to ‘pop’ out of the casks (a bloody good whack with a big wooded mallet on either side of the bung!)

We now use our blending skills and the age old ‘blending notes’ to ensure we can get a 50:50 blend of malt & grain and end up with a vat of whisky at the correct ABV (40% in our case).

We measure the wet and dry dips (to get the volume of the casks) and take a sample of each for Hydrometer testing to find the current ABV. We know how much liquid and alcohol was there when our Scottish friends racked off from the Still, but we need to know how much we have given to the Angels. ‘The Angels Share’ is about 2% per year in perfect storage conditions, so I calculate that its about 8 gallons they have from my casks and guess that’s why we never see Angels – they are all sleeping off huge hangovers!

I digress. Once we have the comparisons in volume and alcohol, we enter the black art of using my ‘slide rule thingy’. After about 100 years’ use, we are still no clearer as to exactly how this logarithmic 44” long stick really works, but hey ho, we know it just does.

Dring & Fage Proof Rule - aka. ‘Slide Rule Thingy’

It’s all to do with percentage losses over time in a cask, and uses some complex mathematics of integration and differentiation on a volume of revolution (my memory of A Level Maths has been permanently erased – sooo boring at the time!) and all in a couple of graduated sticks and a slidy bit to line up. Believe me it works.

We pump the volumes our ‘thingy’ tells us into lovely old Cognac vessels (c.1900) with a little bit of our own spring water and a wee dram of caramel (malt whisky is almost colourless) to get a nice rich drinkable colour. After a few weeks to ‘marry up’ it is ready to be tested – again by hydrometer – and can be lovingly bottled into an array of glass bottles.

From a miniature or ‘nip’ (50 mls) up to the impressive ‘gallon’ (4.5 litres) you can find Golden Cap in pubs, shops and bars throughout the South West.

Despite being an ale drinker (for some obvious reasons!), I have tasted the ‘hard stuff’ and even to my uneducated palette it is ‘smooth’ due to the amount of quality (and expensive) malt whisky in the blend.

Hardened whisky fans tell me it’s good and my 90 year old grandfather drank Golden Cap for most of his life until the time his quack told him to cut back because he had ‘an intolerance’…he now drinks Brandy and is still going strong.

As for ‘Grandfather Palmer’ loving his whisky – it was 1918 when the Golden Cap brands were registered with the Ministry of Food, but they had already been in production for over 50 years.  John Cleeves Palmer was born in 1867 so in those good old days, a tot of whisky was perhaps given to the future boss of Palmers to help him through his teething pain? A love of whisky that remained until he died in 1928.

The good old days of whisky blending at Palmers

So next time you’re in a Palmers pub and have had enough of that gorgeous Palmers beer, why not try a tot of Dorset history and ponder on how it is lovingly made in a brewery….

Cheers!

It’s dark and cold in here

OHHHH WHAT’S this I can see some light? Oh yes, the fridge door is open… here we go?

I have been in this bucket for nearly a week now and I thought we had been forgotten. To top it all, somebody keeps opening the door and whisking us around to stop us getting out over the top of the bucket.

Now it’s too cold to keep going… brrrr it’s 4oC in here.

I know we are only little micro organisms, but we are sensitive.

Without us you couldn’t make all that lovely beer.

It’s dark and cold in the fridge, please let us out? I lose track of time locked in here with all the other buckets of yeast, I think it’s five days since I was out in that sunlight feeling nice and warm.

Only Little

Ahhh yes that’s better, mmm it’s getting warm and I don’t feel so sleepy anymore.

“Hey, wake up, wake up, we’re going to have something to eat soon.”

It is not long before there is a real buzz of excitement in our bucket.

Despite the whisking and being spun round for two minutes, they have put some extra food in here – somebody near the rim said it’s ‘yeast aid’ and it’s full of vitamins – I am not sure, but it tastes good.

Ouch, what’s that, quick cover your eyes, ooohh that stings… somebody has just covered us all with a funny stingy liquid, what did they say, yeast what? Oh, yeastwash, I was clean anyway, I don’t care, it still stings.  Things are settling down again and at least it’s still getting warmer.

Warmer now?

Woooh, we seem to be flying, yeee haaa “splosh” woooo yessss, somebody has tipped us into a big vat of sugary liquid and there is so much food. I think I am in yeast heaven.

Mmm that is so tasty, I must eat as much as I can and see if I can do that baby making thing.

Pop, wow that’s so funny, I just had a daughter who popped out of my cell wall, pop, there is another one… mmm keep eating, this is fun. Pop, Pop…

Pop!

Yawn, I feel sleepy now, it’s hard being a mum of four so quickly, and it feels like I cannot breath anymore. I hate that feeling when there is no air, but at least I can still eat all this sugar.

Mmmm thank god for fermentation.

I feel stuffed now, but I know I must keep eating. I don’t know when I will next get so much food. Ohhh I feel a little dizzy, the alcohol level is rising, but I must eat some more…

I am so full up and all this alcohol is making me sleepy.

Woooo, hold on, we are on the move. It’s a big waterfall, swim, push back, I can’t stop myself, getting closer, can’t stop myself falling, splosh.

Mmm that’s better, the alcohol seems to have gone and it’s just me and the girls again.

Falling...

Let’s rest here a while.

Yawn, oh, I seem to be in a bucket… girls, where are you, girls? Brrr it’s chilly now.  I haven’t got any more energy.

Oh, girls I will let you save your energy.

It feels like we are back in that fridge… make sure you eat as much as you can.

It’s dark and cold in here.

Night  Night.

Only here for the beer

IT ALWAYS makes me smile when I tell people what I do for a living.  As soon as the words Head Brewer leave my lips, I am always told how lucky I am and what a perfect job it must be.  The usual comments of ‘Do you get to drink the beer?’ and ‘You must be p**sed all the time’ are about as far as the conversation gets and I never even bother to try to explain what running a brewery is really about.

Today is Monday. I arrived at 6.35am to Mash In (the start of the first of four brews this week). A lovely sunny peaceful morning, brewhouse windows open and the rich malty sweet aromas of the mash filling my nostrils… all was well with the world.

Mash tun at Palmers Brewery

An hour later the brewery team arrived full of the rights and wrongs of the weekend’s umpiring decisions. It may have hit him ‘above the knee roll’, but look in the book, it still says LBW and it’s still OUT! After a quick rush of caffeine we are up to full speed in the brewhouse.

The finger is up - and that is Out!

My next task is to round up my three work experience lads from Colfox School who are with us for the next two weeks. Dom, Tom and Ollie are dispatched to different teams and will hopefully learn a little about life at Palmers.

I get a call from the Wine Store to discuss the issues of breaking plastic handles in our new 8-pack beer boxes. The manufacturer is summoned to give this matter his immediate attention – it was a Palmers Director who experienced the most recent handle breakage! A quick discussion and a slight redesign should suffice.

I grab my post and a slurp of hot black coffee as I chat about pub issues with colleagues. I need to sort the malt supply data sheets, so I call the rep en route to the cellar where they have a cask filling problem. Despite it ‘working fine when they last used it’ one of the filling heads is dented, so it won’t work properly. I put on my ‘Engineers Hat’, wade through a parts list and cross-section drawing of the beer tube assembly, and order bits on an overnight: we will fix it in the morning.

I am still trying to get back to my desk when my attention is drawn to the brewery sewer pumps (aided by my acute sense of smell, but almost deafened by the ‘high level’ siren). ‘Engineer hat’ still firmly in place, and happy we don’t have a serious effluent issue, I decide that we need the experts in to sort out why the pump alarms keep going off – another phone call – now back to check my e-mails.

Only 17 e-mails this morning and most I can deal with quickly. Generally requests for holiday leave, people wanting brewery tours, suppliers selling me things and requests for Technical Service installations (another hat is now on my head).

I spend 10 minutes sorting the anticipated Malt Specifications then call my Tech Service Manager to meet to discuss the installs.

I also take the opportunity to let Dom get some Tech Service experience and send him out on the road with the TSM (one less lad for me to have to chase).

Brewing schedules and sales figures are next on the agenda. Racking figures for the week (that’s the number of barrels to fill up) go to the cellar (where they’re now filling casks on the beer tube that is still intact).

Over my third coffee, I sign off invoices and fax orders, then I go back to check the brew as it gets pumped to the Copper and make sure Ollie is still in one piece and settling in well. 

A knock on my office door, and one of my merry men has a couple of things he needs to discuss after being on holiday last week… I do not know why ‘nobody can do his job as well as him’ and I apologise if ‘they’ didn’t empty the cardboard from the compactor. He leaves a bit happier when I tell him that Tom can help him to clear up (that’s lad number three off my hands).

Time to settle and run my monthly brewing summaries. Where did I put that cold wet flannel for my forehead? Only two more interruptions and its lunchtime.  Lunch ‘al desko’ for me today and more paperwork to sort before we finish off the brew.

It's all about the beer

If I am honest, I really am only here for the beer. Without a passion for product quality, consistency, and that lovely feeling I get when I am in a pub and hear a compliment about Palmers Beers, I would not be doing the job I do.

Job satisfaction is sitting outside my local Palmers pub on a sunny evening with a great tasting pint.

Unfortunately there is a lot more to being Head Brewer than simply making beer!