This is the fourth of four posts about Mild Magic, CAMRA’s annual campaign to promote mild around Manchester.
A trip to Stockport – combining mild ticking on my part with craft-related shopping on my other half’s – got off to a decidedly inauspicious start. We missed the bus from Chorlton by making the rookie error of arriving only a minute or two ahead of the scheduled time, by which point the bus was already moving off. Necessity was the mother of invention: rather than wait for the next bus to Stockport, we decided to get the bus to Levenshulme and start the day’s mild-drinking at Fred’s Ale House. Fred’s was closed, however, and not because we were there too early; a phone call to the number on the hoarding revealed that the manager was ill and that the bar wouldn’t be opening that week, let alone that day. (Best wishes for a speedy recovery to, well, Fred, I guess.)
We soon managed to get a bus for Stockport, although the journey was interrupted by an abortive attempt on my part to make the route more interesting by starting with Romiley. I forget exactly what was wrong with this route, but it looked a lot less attractive once we were waiting for the relevant bus. Eventually we decided to knock it on the head and just go to Stockport, as originally planned. The Crown on Heaton Lane was a welcome sight when we finally got there – I was actually quite thirsty, apart from anything else – but no mild was to be had. The beers that were on weren’t bad at all – I had a half of Pictish Jarrylo – but there weren’t very many; the bar had something like a 1:2 ratio between pumps with anything on and those without. Nor was there much custom to speak of, that sunny weekend lunchtime, apart from a guy making a delivery who stayed for a chat with the bartender. The Crown has a lot of positive memories as well as some sad ones, and I’d love to see it busy again; I can’t see it at the moment, though.
We were on coffee at the Café San Juan, where we had an absolutely stonking lunch at a very reasonable price (even for Stockport). Nothing to do with Mild Magic, but this Colombian café is well worth a visit if you’re in the area.
I made for the Angel next, where the bartender didn’t seem very keen on serving halves, or else he wasn’t very keen on me personally. (Or maybe he’d just bitten his lip.) Anyway, Distant Hills Dark Mild was fine but rather surprising; it was on the malty side for dark milds, but also in the ‘light-textured, fresh-tasting and not particularly dark’ area. If there was such a thing as a light dark bitter, or a mid-brown mild, this would be it. I’d recommend seeking it out if it weren’t for the recent sad news about the brewery.
My itinerary took me next to the Grove Alehouse, the only bar I’ve been to during Mild Magic (or in the last couple of years) that didn’t take card payments. Cash duly located, I settled down in a corner with a half of Elgood’s Black Dog – the first time I’ve seen that one – while the bartender had a chat with some friends; the small scale and laid-back atmosphere of the Grove made this a much more pleasant experience than it had been at the Crown.
Into each life a little rain must fall, and no Mild Magic would be quite complete without one of my very least favourite beers, Coach House Gunpowder Mild. Still, the George and Dragon – one of those rambling open-plan multiple-seating-area pubs with every area dominated by a large screen TV – deserves credit for having a mild on, even if it does taste of liquorice water. The Milliner in Davenport – a small, laidback bar with a playlist somewhere between “contemporary indie” and “Greatest Hits Radio” – couldn’t stretch that far (although I’ve since learned that it had had the Distant Hills dark mild on earlier). And the RedWillow Noble Pale was rather good, to be fair.
Back to town, then – well, back to Stockport – and where better to finish than the Petersgate Tap. Tatton Pennine (light mild) was very nice. RedWillow Double Heritage Porter (yes, on cask) was very nice indeed. And Thornbridge Pardus (Sticky Toffee Pudding) was very silly indeed, and really rather good. After that lot I was back on the bus; I put the lid on the crawl with a half of Steelfish Running With Believers at the Ladybarn Social Club, while watching the end of the City game. I’ve used ‘laid-back’ as a term of approbation a couple of times, and there’s not much more laid-back than the Ladybarn Social Club; it was a really nice way to finish the day. (And I don’t even support City.)
Entering the Grove in Clayton, a week later, I was transported back to Manchester pub-going in the 1980s – old boys sat behind half-empty pints on upholstered benches, obscured by clouds of… steady on, that’s not tobacco smoke, is it? An unexpected aspect of the spread of vaping has been that you very rarely smell tobacco any more; I’d assumed people would want to replicate it, but apparently not. But there evidently is at least one vape liquid out there that produces clouds of tobacco-scented vapour (and double-takes). There was a surprisingly lively discussion going on, on the surprising topic of spelling:
“Course I know how it’s spelt! O, U…”
– Eulogy doesn’t begin with an O, U! I’ve googled it – it’s E, U, L, O, G, Y! It’s not f.ing ougley!
“Will you f.ing shut up?” [this from another part of the room]
– Who?
“You!”
A bit livelier than I was expecting for 12.00 noon.; the pub had been open since half eleven, though. The person shouting the (correct) spelling of ‘eulogy’ across the room (and being told to shut up) was the bartender, I should mention. Anyway, I asked for a half of Holt’s Unmistakably Mild and got one from the standard Mild tap (they had one of each). Since then I’ve heard of pubs putting the Unmistakably on instead of the standard Mild rather than alongside it. The one I had was a fairly big and complex beer (and very nice, I should say), so the chances are it was the Unmistakably.
Further down the tramline, the bartender at the Silly Country wasn’t aware that Mild Magic was still running (it was the final weekend, to be fair). Not seeing anything labelled ‘mild’, I ordered the darkest thing on the bar, which turned out to be a sweetish, full-bodied dark mild with an interesting roasty edge. (It was Lord’s Black Gold, and it was in fact a stout. Nevertheless.)
In previous years I’ve had Bridge beers at the Austin Powers drinking den that is Tapster’s in Ashton-under-Lyne, but the lineup that Saturday was all Settle – and no mild. (The bitter I had was pretty good, though.) Before leaving Ashton I paid a visit to the old market hall for something to eat (viz. a cheese and onion pie), and fitted in a half of Brightside Manchester Magic Mild at the Ash Tree (JDW) while I was waiting for my bus.
Onward to the final stop, Stalybridge. That Saturday afternoon, the streets of Staly were doing their usual impression of the Mary Celeste. (Maybe things pick up in the evening.) I didn’t get a chance to test my theory about Hyde’s 1863; the White House only had Hyde’s Dark Ruby in the way of milds, and the Q Inn (to give it its full name) didn’t even have that. But the best (of the day) was yet to come: at Bridge Beers, Bridge Golden Mild was so good that I stayed for a second half. This is only the third light mild I’ve had this year, and – like the Tatton example – it was excellent; no issues with condition, either, which is impressive in a bar serving multiple beers on stillage. One small negative: listing all your draught beers on the blackboard whether they’re available or not, and having a bartender tell each customer in turn which ones are on, represents excellent customer service with a personal touch, but lacks something in terms of speed and efficiency.
Journey’s end – and, for me, Mild Magic’s end – was the Buffet Bar, where I had a very nice half of RedWillow Dark Ruby Mild. And a very nice half of Zapato Frambozen (on keg). And listened to some very nice music in very nice surroundings while eating a very nice pork pie… It was that stage of the day, let’s face it. And finally Esther, a half of Serious Goldrush (Belgian yeast, it’s the future!).
Fourteen pubs, ten milds, ten breweries. Overall, that makes 49 pubs, of which 38 had at least one mild on (nine Holt’s pubs, seven Hyde’s, five Spoon’s and 17 independent or ‘other’), and 22 milds from 19 breweries (viz. Bank Top, Beartown, Blackjack, Bridge, Brightside, Coach House, Distant Hills, Dunham, Elgood’s, Empire, Holt’s, Hyde’s, Only With Love, Peerless, RedWillow, Rudgate, Steelfish, Tatton and Titanic).
I considered listing the places that didn’t have a mild on here, but in many cases I think they genuinely were ‘between milds’ or had under-ordered – or, in the case of JDW’s pubs, had over-ordered on ‘festival’ beers. I will say that one or two places seem to have severely under-ordered (no sightings of mild at Wine and Wallop any later than mid-April), and the mild which visitors to the Famous Crown were repeatedly assured was on order never seems to have arrived – and I didn’t get the impression that those in charge at the Beech had ever had any intention of putting a mild on.
Still, that’s only a handful of refuseniks out of 49 pubs – and they can be set against the successes represented getting milds into places like the Milliner or the Head of Steam. Many thanks to everyone involved in organising this year’s Mild Magic, and to the brewers and publicans who entered into the spirit of it; it was a lot of fun.
Oh Good Ale 