Unless, that is, it’s wheat beer, which is naturally cloudy.
From my search engine slush pile “is cloudy beer from a pub bad for you?”
Maybe, maybe not, but as the only way you can find out is by drinking it, by which time it’s way too late, cloudy beer should always be sent back.
I have, by the way, spent a large part of my life behind the bar, from barman to manager – from beer engines, through keg, to the now ubiquitous swan-neck – and have never Continue reading
There’s a debate in the Guardian online, today, about the ethics of tipping in American restaurants, which made me think about tipping here in the UK, and what the point of it is, especially in pubs (restaurants being way beyond my budget).
For me, a tip should be proffered for service above and beyond the basic service. In reality, it doesn’t work that way most of the time – it seems to be an insurance that we’ll actually get a service.
My friend Alan, and I, spend far more time in pubs than is probably sensible, and we tip every round (most pubs seem to set their own rates at which the staff take the proffered tip – where we live it’s 20p per round and, it has to be said, customers who tip are in the minority, as are those with good manners – it doesn’t actually hurt to say please and thank you, you know!). This is partly in recognition of prompt and efficient service (but hey, that’s what they’re paid for anyway, though the minimum wage is way too low), but mainly in the hope that, come the next round, the staff can tear themselves away from more important tasks like gossiping, arranging their social lives, or sloping off to the kitchen to filch chips (these habits are frequently combined in one person!), and serve us with reasonable alacrity. We don’t want preferential service, just that which is our due as customers, and tipping is a way to fix oneself in the mind of bar staff, especially in a busy pub, when it never hurts to tip a bit more than average. I also tip because, having worked in pubs for over 20 years, I know what a crappy job it can be at times.
However, last Thursday, we ran up against an anomaly – a situation in which the staff should, perhaps, have tipped us. I can’t speak for other areas or other pubs, but the pubs I frequent – decent, middle-market hostelries, in the main – staff training is abysmal or non-existent. On Thursday, then, we had a new, very young, barman who had no idea how to pull a proper pint (i.e. one that doesn’t go flat in 2 minutes, and with a sensibly sized head).
A few friendly words of advice later, and we were getting pints that were (almost), perfectly pulled – they were just a tiny bit short, but that can be addressed later. (Note – if your bar person appears to be an idiot, treat him/her kindly, as they may have been stuck there with little or no training!)
The question is, why do we have to do this? One afternoon, a few years ago, at The Farmer’s Arms, in Frankby, Wirral, we spent an afternoon coaching an elderly lady in the gentle art of pint-pulling because, she said, no-one had ever shown her how, only to discover, after a couple of hours, that she was the manager, fresh out of training school where, it seems, teaching how to pull a pint isn’t thought essential! And if the manager doesn’t know, who the hell trains inexperienced staff? When I got my first bar job, at 19, there was no interview, as such – I was just sent to pull a pint. If I’d cocked it up I wouldn’t have got the job… It’s an idea that could do with being reintroduced. Mind you, in these days of the ubiquitous swan-neck dispense, pulling a good pint is a lot easier than it was 45 years ago, but there’s still a technique to be mastered and it doesn’t seem to be taught.
This is how – with a swan-neck you keep the nozzle at the bottom of the glass at all times; put some muscle into the first stroke of the pump – this creates the head – after that you can fill it up more gently to avoid spillage, and don’t over-fill the glass. You can always add beer if the customer wants it, you can’t take beer out if you’ve washed the head away by overfilling. And if you do top it up, make sure the swan-neck is at the bottom of the glass again, otherwise you’ll ruin the head.
Oh, and the customer rules – if one wants a very thin head and another wants an inch and a half, like one guy I know, they’re both right – but an average head of about a centimetre is usually acceptable, and leaves scope for topping up if requested which, of course, is always done with good grace. If your manager wants 10 pints from every gallon of beer, that’s their problem, it should never be the customers’ problem.
And before I get accusations that I’m arrogant and interfering, bear in mind that beer isn’t cheap and drinking it isn’t all about getting shit-faced, it’s about, at least for me, enjoying the whole beer-drinking experience, and a badly-pulled pint ruins that entirely. It’s not acceptable.
Ron's Rants... 