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Christmas parties are like buses, you wait two years and then several come along at once, and when the parties involve a full-on sit-down meal, then memories of the Vicar of Dibley, Christmas Special, start flooding back. There’s something about that episode that I find disturbing, watching Dawn French conveying the obvious discomfort felt by the Reverend Geraldine Granger at having to force down three gargantuan Christmas meals, so as not to offend her caring, but rather overbearing parishioners, and I still feel uneasy just thinking about it. It’s possibly something to do with being made to eat everything that was on one’s plate, at school dinner time, but fortunately there were no such Billy Bunter-like episodes connected with the two Christmas meals I attended. They were on consecutive days-hence my original reference, but they were completely different occasions, with the only common factor being they were Christmas dinners where the potential to consume beer in slightly more than modest amounts, was involved.
As things turned out, I did indeed over-indulge at the first event, but was the moderate to the point of zero consumption at the second one. So, let’s kick off with the first, which was the British Guild of Beer Writer’s Annual Awards evening, and was a lavish event, held in the equally lavish surroundings of an opulent, central London venue.
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This was only my second event, since joining the Guild. Last year’s bash was “virtual”and one, or possibly two years prior to that I was unable to attend primarily due to it clashing with other events. This year’s awards ceremony took place at One Great George Street, an imposing stone-faced edifice, just a stone’s throw away from Parliament Square. The building has links with the Institution of Civil Engineers, and its first floor Great Hall, an impressive conference room and function space, was the venue for the dinner and presentation of awards.
Walking along to the venue, on a bitterly cold, early December evening, I paused to reflect that the last time I’d been in the vicinity was in October 2019, as part of a large, pro EU demonstration. With thousands of others, I’d stood in Parliament Square, listening to an array of different speakers, just as an amendment was being passed in the nearby House of Commons, that effectively blocked Prime Minister Johnson’s proposed EU withdrawal bill. The country came close to stepping back from a damaging hard-Brexit, but the euphoria didn’t last, as just a few days later, Lib-Dem leader, Jo Swinson,buoyed up by recent polls, tabled a motion for a general election, thereby playing directly into the hands of Johnson and his then chief fixer, Dominic Cummings. The rest unfortunately is history. Swinson lost her seat, with Johnson and the Tories returned with a large majority after promising to “Get Brexit done.”
As we all know, that has gone swimmingly well, but getting back to the event, I ended up walking past the building, but this only became evident, when the street name changed. After retracing my steps, a lady waiting by the entrance steps, asked if I was looking for the Beer Writer’s Guild Meeting, because if I was, it was straight up the steps. I thanked her and made my way inside, and later on we found ourselves sitting next to each other at dinner. I won’t name-drop, but the lady in question is a member of CAMRA’s National Executive. I say that because I recognised her name. We had an interesting discussion about the Campaign, where I explained my reasons for resigning. I’m not going to give anything else away, apart from saying she was good company, as were all the other persons on the table – a list that included one well-known beer writer who I have got to know following a visit to Amsterdam in 2016, for what proved to be the final European Beer Writer’s Conference.
Before the meal, there were plenty of beers to enjoy in two of the adjoining, downstairs function rooms. The beers were generously supplied by the event sponsors and up alongside the big names such as Asahi, Budweiser, Carlsberg-Marston’s, Greene King, Heineken, and Shepherd Neame, there were smaller players such as Adnams, Allsopp’s and Harvey’s. It was two casks from Allsopp’s that caught my eye, as I entered the room, so what better way to start the evening off, than to try a half of each.
There’s a story behind this one as Allsopp’s were a famous brewer, based inBurton-on-Trent. They were renowned for their India Pale Ale, and at one time had the largest brewery in Britain. Towards the end of the 19thCentury, Allsopp’s tried their hand at brewing lager. becoming in the process, a pioneering lager brewery. They were half a century too early though, as Britain in the early 1900’swasn’t ready for this continental upstart, style of a beer .
The Allsopp family eventually lost control of the company, and in 1934 merged with Ind Coope, another famous Burton brewer. The merged company adopted Allsopp’sfamous Red Hand logo as its symbol, but the Allsopp name disappeared completely in 1959, a few years before the merger with Ansell’s and Tetley, that created Allied Breweries.

A few years ago, Jamie Allsopp, the great-great-great-great-great grandson of founder Samuel Allsopp, decided to relaunch the family business, and after tracking down what was probably the only remaining ledger containing the original brewing recipes, and purchasing the trademarks, produced the first test brews at the beginning of 2020 – right at the start of the pandemic!

I had a brief chat with Jamie, whose stand represented the only cask offerings that evening, and sampled the relaunched Allsopp’s Pale Ale 4.0% along with the India Pale Ale, at 5.0%. I moved on to the Asahi stand, followed by that of Heineken, who are now the owner of both Brixton and Beavertown breweries. My final point of call was Carlsberg-Marston’s, and I was enjoying a glass of their Mildly Saline, Kölsch-Style beer, brewed by London Fields, when a gong rang out, summoning us upstairs, for the meal.Each of the sumptuous three courses was accompanied by a carefully selected matching beer, which went as follows. Sea bass starter, paired with Utopian Ten Degrees Czechia Session Lager 3.9%. The roast lamb rump main, was washed down with Wolf Dark Scottish Ale 6.0%, from Windswept Brewing of Lossiemouth, whilst the chocolate fondant with morello cherry compote dessert had the high-octane, 11% Waiting for the Rain Imperial Stout, from Loch Lomond Brewery to end the meal with.

There was quite a surfeit of the later beer, which I perhaps rather foolishly indulged in, alongside a glass or two of Roosters Roots Rock Reggae Pineapple & Grapefruit IPA 6.4%. The latter was the beer chosen to accompany the vegetarian option main course, but as there were several cans knocking around on the table, it would have been rude not to have tried it!The awards presentations then followed, and one winner worthy of mention was Matt Rogers, editor of CAMRAngle – the branch magazine of Slough, Windsor & Maidenhead CAMRA. Matt had introduced himself to me, downstairs in the bar, prior to dinner, and given me a copy of the latest edition. The SIBA Award for Brewer of the Year, went to John Hatch, who single-handedly has kept the tradition of brewing alive at the old Young’s Ram Brewery site, in Wandsworth, and should you so desire, you can find out who else won what by logging onto the Guild website here.
One observation that came out from the event that concerned the Guild in general, and one that was discussed further between me and my CAMRA NE dinner companion,was the contrast between the two organisations. CAMRA has a largely
male membership, the majority of whom are over 50, with a significant proportion of that number, the wrong side of 60. The Guild, on the other hand, has a much younger membership, with a significant number of female members. This was evident, from just looking around the Great Hall, and is encouraging because it lays rest to the myth that beer is largely a man’s drink, and the brewing and hospitality industries, largely male preserves. I won’t say anymore here, but I’m sure you can draw your own conclusions as to where this leaves CAMRA.
I wandered back downstairs after the presentations. I sampled a few more beers, and also stuffed a few bottles and cans into my rucksack, to take home. The sponsoring brewers were quite happy to part with some of their wares, as it not only brigs them to the further attention of an appreciative audience, but also means there is less for them to pack up and return at the end of the evening.
I made my way back along Whitehall, to Charing Cross, and boarded the 23.40 train. I was very conscious of not falling asleep, as the train was destined for Ashford,but the beer had got the better of me. So, despite having my earphones in place, and the volume on my phone turned up, I still dozed off. Fortunately, I awoke with a start, just as the train was pulling into Tonbridge, and managed to make a reasonably dignified exit onto the platform. Ashford was not the place I wanted to be stranded at, in the early hours of a freezing cold December morning, so either the gods were smiling on me, or basic instinct kicked in. Such are the joys of an occasional beery evening in the big city, and the perils of a train journey home, afterwards!


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