Brewing History: Dark Mild Ale inside The Pale?

Unless you have been living under a large rock you will be aware of Beer Twitter’s current obsession with Dark Mild ales, and although most of the noise on this topic is coming from across The Small Pond the cry has been taken up in certain circles in Ireland too. Currently there is a scarcity of that style on these shores apart from one notable - in every way - exception from Four Provinces Brewery, although there are probably some that would argue that certain brown ales - and perhaps even porters - are close in many ways to that style.

But it would be a mistake to think that this was a beer that was never popular in Ireland - and I use the word popular in a relative manner, as obviously it was those ubiquitous drinks called stouts and porters that ruled here for much of our relatively short ‘proper’ brewing history. It is probably better just to say that ‘mild’ ales, even dark ones, were being brewed and drunk here in the not-so-distant past. A good example is a beer that is awaiting bottling in my fermenter which was/is a dark coloured XX ale from Perry’s Brewery in Rathdowney in county Laois, that I am fairly sure could only be called a ‘Dark Mild’? Annoyingly the Perry brewing records that I have seen do not record their beers as ‘Milds’ in their records, just X and XX ales, but as I have shown previously the use of the word mild with either a small or large M was in quite common use in Ireland for a long period. Perry’s certainly used the word ‘Mild’ on their bottle labels so they appear to have used one term for the recipes and another for their marketing. (I am aware that ‘Mild’ at one time meant fresh in that same way that ‘Stale’ meant stored/aged but as the language changed I am also sure that over here at least Mild became a word for - well - a mild tasting ale that was relatively low in bitterness.)

With all of that in mind I would like to share an advertisement from The Irish Independent in 1915 for D’Arcy’s Anchor Brewery on Usher Street in Dublin where they specifically point out the colour of their ales:

Here we see that under their O’Connell’s Dublin Ales brand they were selling a Dark Extra Strong ale and a Pale Mild on draught - and let us not forget a rare mention for an Irish Best Bitter for bottling! Allowing for dubious marketing and the leeway that advertisement writers have with the truth this might be a nice mention for a Strong Dark Mild? Even if I am stretching terminology, styles and descriptions to the limit then if nothing else it is a nice record of what D’Arcy’s were brewing at this time. If we look at the table I previously posted on the strengths of Irish beers just prior to this period we can see that O’Connell’s Strong Ale varied from 5.1% to 5.5% in alcohol content and although we should not really make any assumptions as to how bitter it was - and alcohol strength has no bearing on a ‘Mild’ anyway as we know - it still seems to point the finger at there being a draught dark ale available in Dublin at the start of the 20th century that was not classed as porter or stout.

Hardly an earth-shattering find or observation but still of note.

Incidentally, D’Arcy’s were also brewing an ‘I.E.P. Ale’ (East India Pale Ale) in 1907, so they seem to have had a relatively interesting range of ales, although this could be what morphed into the ‘Best Bitter’ from 1915 perhaps? As ever, lack of information on our brewing past leads to much guesswork, 'maybes' and - perhaps - dubious assumptions …

Liam K.

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Blind Ambition: Take Five Irish Stouts ...

Back in the late eighties and early nineties I was exclusively a stout drinker, which meant in this part of Ireland that I was by default a Guinness drinker of course. That was after my brief love affair with Harp lager and before my general apathy of drink in general either side of the millennium. After that there followed a brief flirtation with trying different lagers from various corners of the world before I ended up on my current path of beer appreciation via trips to Belgium and elsewhere. So really my return to drinking dark beers came via beers such as Hercule Stout and Fuller’s London Porter to name but two, and moved onwards to Irish microbrewed porters and stouts. Recently I have been bitten by the beer history bug and started exploring our island’s brewing past, which of course has brought me full circle back to the ‘historic’ stouts that still exist in Ireland - albeit the new versions are hardly the same as their past iterations.

With the exception of the Diageo owned Guinness, these 'older' stouts are available as one beer type and serve - a nitro stout - with Beamish and Murphy’s now being simply brands owned by Heineken. As far as the take-home versions of these nitro beers are concerned, two more names have been added to the line up of easily available stouts in can format. O’Hara’s Stout brewed in Carlow - my home county for clarity - and the new Island’s Edge which Heineken added to its range for no apparent reason other than to annoy Diageo as far as I can see. They appear to even give a slight dig at Diageo’s Rockshore brands with its name ...

It has been on my mind to do a tasting between these five nitro stouts for a while but I had difficulty finding single cans of Murphy’s, so eventually I had to purchase a six-pack - only to discover that the cans I found are being brewed in Scotland! I wonder if this is a temporary measure and if kegs are still being brewed in Cork? There is certainly some irony in the fact that both Beamish and Island’s Edge are being brewed in the old Murphy’s brewery in the city but Murphy’s stout itself is not! (It is entirely possible that production in Cork stopped due to Covid pub restrictions and will commence again shortly.)

Anyhow, having finally - and literally - lined up all five stouts I wondered which would actually be my favourite? I must stress that I have a liking for fuller bodied, less bitter stouts, and had tasted all five previously but not in a side-by-side comparison. There can only one way to do a tasting like this and that is (mostly) blind, as other factors will certainly sway your palate if you know which beer is which. I put the names of all the beers on the bottom of matching half-pint tulip glasses and poured them out myself looking straight down on them in case there were obvious head-size issues. Then my independent adjudicator mixed up the glasses so that I did not know which beer was which, and as you can see the look practically identical at this point, with similar colour and head size. I then numbered each one, wrote the numbers on a pad and got to work tasting the beers. (By the way, I tweeted this tasting as I was doing it and kept referring to Island's Edge as Ireland's Edge!)

I started with writing a few simple notes after each number regarding the immediate perception of what I was tasting, which read as follows:

1 - Mild tasting, a little bitter and dry with quite a light flavour/mouthfeel.

2 - Stronger, more bitter but better balanced. Pleasant body and mouthfeel.

3 - Full flavour with a soft quality - not dry.

4 - Very mild and light tasting, a little dry and bitter.

5 - Fullest in flavour and body, lovely balance and not too dry or bitter.

I sipped some water and went through them again in different orders before dividing them in to three groups.

A - (5) This was the fullest flavour and most appealing to my tastes.

B - (2 & 3) These were the next fullest in flavour and body, and quite alike in certain ways.

C - (1 & 4) These were the lightest, driest and the weakest flavour-wise for me.

I then compared stouts number 2 with 3 and although they were close in taste and possessed similar qualities I had to decide which I preferred, and I then did the same with stouts 1 and 4. I now had a ranking of the 5 beers for my tastes and palate, and to make it more interesting I also attempted to name the brands. I went as follows in descending order with my favourite at the top:

5 - O’Hara’s

3 - Beamish

2 - Murphy’s

4 - Guinness

1 - Island’s Edge

It is hard to describe my nervousness as I picked up each glass and looked at its base, with my adjudicator writing down the actual beers beside my guesses on my note pad.

I was wrong on four of them - so this is my actual list in descending order of favourites:

5 - O’Hara’s

3 - Murphy’s

2 - Beamish

4 - Island’s Edge

1 - Guinness

As you can see I got the beers in the groups right, although I mixed them up with each other. I was quite happy to have picked out the O’Hara’s, although it was easy in hindsight, and it is a beer I am quite familiar with of course - but it was still quite tense as I got down to the last three beers. In fairness all the stouts were generally alike in taste and flavour, there were no ‘bad’ beers or even close to poor in the selection - hardly a surprise given the brewers - just some that were not to my taste preferences.

So what does this mean?

Well not a lot for anyone other than me, as this was my palate on a given day and relates to my personal preference. But I was surprised on two fronts, firstly that I preferred Murphy’s to Beamish, as I always thought it was the other way around. (Maybe the Scottish brewing has added to it!) Secondly that Island’s Edge and Guinness were so similar, with the Island’s Edge having that slight advantage flavour wise - maybe it is the tea and basil it contains! Island’s Edge has had a bit of bad press but I think much of that stems from people knowing they were drinking it and having preconceived notions perhaps? It would certainly be interesting to repeat this blind side-by-side tasting on actual draught in a pub.

Guinness being my least favourite is not a surprise to me in many ways given my tastes, it is perfectly brewed to be an everyman stout and not to stand out in any way, so there is certainly a logic to my mind in where I placed it. Where I would rate a large bottle of Guinness among some other non-nitro stouts might be a different matter I suspect - but that is a blind tasting for another day ...

Cheers!

Liam K.

Just so you know:

I served all of these at cool - but not fridge-cold - temperatures, as this is my preferred temperature for beers in general and dark beers in particular - the colder the beer the less flavour you perceive.

Yes, those are O’Hara’s glasses and no they did not directly provide them - this is not some kind of sneaky, bribed promotion for their beers - I was given a box of these glasses by my local off license a few years back.

I am sure some of you are shocked regarding my ranking of these beers, but my palate, my rules, my opinion. Feel free to try it yourself, I would love if you did, just be honest and leave all the ridiculousness that usually surrounds Irish stouts regarding glassware, lacing and head size out of the equation - it is (mostly) meaningless social media clickbait …

That independent adjudicator - my long-suffering better half - can verify all the above if need be!

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Plain Boring?

A short while back I tweeted about a minor epiphany I had while drinking my homebrewed reproductions of historic Irish beers, as it had dawned on me that perhaps I was looking for too much from these brews. I threaded a few comments together on Twitter at that time but I decided it might be better to make a more permanent piece regarding my thoughts on here too. (It is probably worth mentioning that by historic Irish beers I mean those I am trying to recreate as best I can from old Irish brewing records - albeit on a modern homebrewing system - while trying to be as authentic as possible with brewing times, ingredients, etc.)

Up to now I have thought of these beers from the point of view of being 'special' both in flavour and in terms of their heritage and history, but on that taste point it must be said that these old beers were not brewed or drank for the appreciation and discussion we see today in 'craft' beer drinking circles. They were consumed for other reasons such as refreshment and revitalisation as well as their use as a catalyst for conversation and companionship in the pubs and other establishments where they were drunk. The actual beer was never discussed much apart from the very odd passing comment I am sure, in fact if the beer did become a great part of the conversation, then it was usually for the wrong reasons. The beers I have brewed recently such as mild ales from the 1930s, plain porter from the 1870s and vintage ales from the 1950s were the equivalent of the macrobrewed lagers, stouts and ales that are in most pubs today and which are drank by the vast majority of 'normal' beer drinkers in this country - and again those beers - mostly - only elicit conversation both on social media and real life when something goes wrong. (It is certainly true that the breweries themselves mentioned the flavour and strength of their beers in their newspaper advertising back then but that was really no more than the marketing spiel of the marketeers, something we see to this day in beer advertisements.)

Those older recipe beer did - and do - need to taste clean and free from flaws, and certainly they theoretically at least use ‘better’ ingredients on the malt side of things, where heritage malt varieties such as Spratt Archer and Chevallier seem to bring a more flavoursome base to the malt bill, but the only way to confirm that would be to do a side-by-side brew and tasting with a modern malt. (As an aside, there is certainly more time invested in the process of brewing both in the mash and the boil, but whether these could be shortened is up for debate. It seems to me that the longer mash time is need but perhaps the boil time could be curtailed as it might have minimum affect flavour-wise on modern systems - so yet more side-by-side taste tests required.)

So would these old beers appeal to modern drinkers?

Well what is clearly true is that these beers are not flavour-bombs aimed at today's palate, and especially not on the hop aroma front, so they might not strike a note with the majority of craft beer drinkers, and that demographic would be seen as their perceived target audience. Flavour-wise they might fall short, as hop-forward IPAs and certain novelty brews are still the top sellers.

And what of nostalgia and history side of these brews? Is that enough to make people curious about them? My twitter timeline and the reader count of these posts would seem to show that this is of interest only to a minority-within-a-minority of drinkers, and it certainly true that beer history is not something most drinkers care about - and I can understand that stance.  History in general can be seen as boring and beer history in general can be ultra boring - or even irrelevant - to many drinkers.

The ultimate test of any retail product is whether it would sell to a given range of consumers given a good marketing program, so a good way at looking at these historic beers is whether they could be commercially marketable based on uniqueness, heritage and process, where the actual product is assumed to be well brewed but could essentially be classed as ‘meh’ by a large part of its perceived core customer.

I feel it would indeed be a hard sell, although I know there are breweries in the UK that have sold these kinds of historic recipe beers - but they are mostly bigger breweries with huge reach ...

But there may be a different angle, and that is within the cohort of macrobrewed lager drinkers. I thought of this while drinking a pale X Mild Ale I had brewed and thinking how much - in a way - like a pale light lager it tasted, and its bigger brother the XX was quite like a ‘standard’ lager - albeit both had a little more going for them to my palate. So what if these ‘boring’ beers were used to wean more macrobeer drinkers from lagers to ales? I am well are that we have plenty of good microbrewed lagers that are already trying to do that but they do not tell a story on the marketing front.

And it is from a marketing point of view that these older beers can tell and proper tale, and have a real story and timeline - a factual story involving real people and breweries. For sure, some compromises need to take place but the basic ingredients and process can be replicated albeit on modern systems. Those records of American hops from Yakima and Oregon being used in these beers are of interest surely, and the tale of what we lost in flavour and what we gained in efficiency as we moved from one lovely old barley varieties to another before we resurrected them again for a new generation who appreciates their flavour and history. What of the defunct breweries themselves? Think of the tales we can tell of the people and towns the gave succour and employment as well as beer. There is a long list of authentic woven history wrapped up in any of these lost beers - plenty of material for actual, real marketing …

Okay, so excusing all of these musings, in reality the commercial appeal of these beers is probably a bridge too far outside of the odd once-off special brew, but at the very least independent microbreweries should be looking at actual historic records - or talking to those who have - when they decide to brew a historic beer and not just go down the easy root of creating - not recreating - a red ale or porter plastered with words such as traditional, heritage or whatever sounds good.

And still on that point perhaps there is a different marketing angle, as surely there is something appealing about these beers to tourists who look for something more interesting and different drink-wise? A minority of them perhaps but there must still be plenty of visitors to this country who might hanker for genuine historic Irish beers from real Irish breweries, served in real Irish pubs - not just the red-washing at the beer tap that we typically see …

Food (or drink?) for thought - for me at least.

Liam K.

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Why do we Call a Half-Pint of Beer a 'Glass of Beer' in Ireland?

One of things that is often remarked upon in tourist guides to the pubs of Ireland is the peculiar quirk of asking for ‘a glass’ in this country when you want a half-pint of any beverage. This is something that most of us grew up with and never really questioned, although if you do think about it, it does seem strange to use this term when both pints and half-pints are served in glassware here, and have been for many years. So where did this term come from and why do we still use it?

To try an answer this question we need to wander across the Irish Sea and take a look at a few references to glasses, half-pints and debates about what actually constituted a ‘glass’ of beer in England in the past.

For example, The Weekly Chronicle (London) from April 1839 mentions in some medical notes on treatments that ‘A glass of ale (half a pint) per deim, be taken’ for a complaint, and although that ‘half a pint’ in brackets could be explaining the glass size required it could also be seen to describe the volume of a glass of ale.

A few decades later the Lancaster Guardian of May 1861 carries a report on short measures in Lancaster and neighbourhood with regard to the use of ‘glasses, earthenware mugs and other vessels.' It suggests that the use of a short measure for a half pint by using a smaller than half-pint glass was rife and pointed to the fact that glass wholesalers stocked large amounts of these smaller glasses for publicans’ use. The writer asks the question ‘Does a glass of ale mean half a pint, or is the former an arbitrary measure? It does not seem possible that there can be much doubt upon this point.’ This seems to imply that at least some of the population expected to receive a half-pint when they asked for a glass.

In August that same year, and also in the Lancaster Guardian, the landlord of the King’s Arms in Morecambe was summoned for ‘selling a glass of ale short of half a pint in measure’ perhaps again implying that a glass implies a half pint but if not it certainly highlights the use of a smaller measure.

In the Oxford Chronicle and Reading Gazette in May 1867 the question ‘”Is a Glass a Measure?”’ was asked and again the content revolves around a court case of a landlord using glasses that did not hold a half pint, for which he was convicted and was then appealing. It was reported that ‘customers had said, “Of course we expect half a pint,” while others said, “A glass and half a pint are the same.”’ and it was also stated by the prosecutors that ‘when a person asked for a glass of ale, it was generally, but not universally, understood, that they expected half a pint.’ The conviction was quashed as it could not be completely proved that those asking for a glass of ale all expected to get a half pint, even though the content of the article suggests that most customers would expect such a measure

In The Halesworth Times and East Suffolk Advertiser in March 1870 a contributor asks, ‘Should a Glass of Ale be Half a Pint.’ This is regarding another court case involving three public houses in Wymondham. Seemingly it was customary in that town for a glass not to be a half-pint but clearly it was expected by those who enforced the law that a glass did mean a half pint, although the case was dismissed.

A few years later, the Liverpool Weekly Courier of February 1873 carries a report on sizes of publicans' glasses and states that ‘a “glass” is an unknown quantity, except so far as custom recognises it as the eight of a pint of spirits, or an equivalent for a half-pint in the case of beer.’ and also ‘As a rule, persons who ask for a “glass” of ale mean “half a pint,” looking upon the terms as equivalents.’ 

Jumping forward some years, The Leominster News and North West Herefordshire & Radnorshire Advertiser in November 1910 highlights the  debate of what is a glass of beer and what is a half pint issue in another legal case and the defence came to the conclusion ‘that it was one of those cases where it might be said that the law was an ass.’ and implies that it was only an offence to serve an actual half-pint in an unverified half-pint glass but that if less than a half-pint was served in any size of glass, providing the customer just asked for ‘a glass’, than that was deemed okay. A similar case was also heard in 1930 in Morecambe - the legality around this custom seems a little dubious …

Even as late as 1947 a writeup in the Nottingham Evening Post in July of that year it was raised as a topic in that city’s council, and the blame for a short measure was put on the customer ‘for not asking what he wanted. If he asked for a glass he would get a glass, but if he asked for a half-pint the licensee was supposed to serve it in an imperial half-pint stamped measure.’ Although it was decided that the case and legalities would ideed need to be investigated.

There are many more mentions of this irregularity in English papers over that whole period too but there appears to be no real consensus as to what a ‘glass’ really meant as you can see, with contradictions coming from all sides of the argument - the customer, the publican and the authorities. Some of these references seem to imply that there was in certain locations a size called a glass of beer and that this was known to be less than a half pint. Although it also appears quite common that the customer may have assumed a glass was a half pint but the publicans believed a glass to be less than that, or perhaps was being a bit cheeky with their perception of what the term actually meant in order to suit themselves and their pockets, or perhaps to suit the pockets of their customers if they were selling a measure on price and not volume regardless of the legalities of such practice.

And perhaps due to all of this confusion - and how much it was widely reported in many papers - the customer changed their terminology for clarity and started to call for ‘a half’ instead of ‘a glass’? Is this how the term died out across the sea from us? (Although comments on my timeline when I mooted writing this article suggests that it still might exist in certain areas as a term for a half-pint or did until quite recently.) It is certainly interesting that it was originally so common-place over there.

So what is the connection with all of this and its continued use in Ireland is probably what many of ye are thinking? That is indeed a good question - and one I am not entirely sure I have gotten close to a definitive answer but I will let you know my thoughts on the subject - and there area couple of hints in the wording used in this paragraph.

But first, what about references like those above in Irish newspapers and publications? Well, those are quite scarce…

Up north we have a writer from Sydney to The Northern Whig in November 1886 on the drinking customs of Australians says the following, ‘There are no half-ones here. “A glass” means a glass of beer. A modest quencher of the “half-one” kind would be wholly misunderstood in Sydney, unless, perchance, the assistant behind the counter came from the North of Ireland, and recognised the old measure of his early days.’ This implies that the term was common before this date at least in this island.

Down south The Irish Times from November 1873 carries an advertisement for the bottlers John Bebe & Co. which mentions a report in the Medical Press and Circular from 1869 that uses the term ‘a glass of porter (1/2 pint)’ that could be taken to imply that a glass was known as a half-pint at this time here, although I am pretty sure that the medical publication referenced is English so it probably is meaningless in more ways than one.

There are just a few reports of the controversies and cases that happened over in England and there are no mentions that I can find of similar issues here. That could mean that ‘a glass’ was taken to mean a half-pint here, or that drinkers did not care, or that the term was not in use here at all! There are mentions of glasses of drink generally but I could find no proper references as to what the term implied here in the past - if anything.

But then again we never really get over exited about sizes here, as my posts on bottle sizes and the famous ‘Meejum’ have shown, although as you can see the issues with those sizes were well recorded and reported whereas any issues with a glass as a unit of measurement are not mentioned as far as I can see.

So this leads me to perhaps believe that we inherited the meaning for ‘a glass’ meaning half a pint from England at some point and that here it did not change into something less than that, leading to confusion and public exposure as it did in England. For this and probably various other reasons it just clung on here in the same way we still use ‘gotten’ or ‘ye’ - or at least some of us do - even though those words have fallen out of favour over there.

All of this is pure conjecture of course, but it seems like a reasonable premise; that the term glass fell out of use in England due to under-served customers and over-zealous regulators, issues that we didn’t have over here to instigate a change in terminology.

Another factor more common to Ireland and which might have some bearing on the issue is our dependence in much of the country in the past on the bottle of beer in public houses, which meant that as long as that bottle was the correct size then the volume of the glass did not matter quite so much, and when kegged beer became more commonplace then maybe the word ‘glass’ for a half pint that had clung on without much controversy became more important, used and indeed useful.

It might also be worth noting that this period in the sixties and seventies where kegged beers became more ubiquitous coincided with the use here of pint glass tankards, and although there were also half-pint tankards it is possible that those who required a half pint wanted it in a glass and not in an undersized tankard - many of which do seem a little odd to drink out of in truth - and so the term had a rebirth. There could be an argument made that it was actually in this period that ‘a glass’ became a meaning for a half-pint and everything I have posted up to this point is meaningless! Could it be that recent?

I would be okay with that too, as I do feel there is more to the story than the suggestions I have put across here …

Liam

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Food History: Breaking Bread - A Lost Custom in Ireland?

Food history is not a topic I write about much but it is certainly something that interests me, and occasionally I come across a story or reference that is intriguing enough to want me to share it to a wider audience.

A little while back I came across an article from January 1852 with wonderful images in the Illustrated London News regarding an old baking custom in Ireland that for the most part seems to have disappeared, apart from the odd mention in lists of traditions from around the festive period or the occasional reference to something vaguely similar that people still do spotted on social media or elsewhere.

Instead of waffling on about it too much here I will just transcribe the article for you to make of what you will from it, or use as a reference point if you ever spot it being mentioned or hear about it in other circumstances.

The Baking and Breaking of the New Year’s Eve Cake - A Christmas Custom in Ireland

(From a Correspondent)

This fine old festival, whose origin is lost amidst the Pagan darkness that surrounds so many of the customs of this country, and yet rendered dear to its inhabitants by the joyous association of childhood, like the many other, is now passing away not only from the practice, but also from the recollection, of the people; yet they delight to talk of those times when the worthy good man, either in ‘the big house’ or ‘comfortable homestead’ made known to his cherished friends and humble dependents that the ‘lady of the house’ or ‘the good woman’ was to have her New Year's Eve cake; And the sly invitation was sure to gather all who cherished genuine wit and humour to witness the making of the cake - that important portion of the meal - to enjoy the drollery of him and her installed as high priest and to stage the requisite incantations to secure the success of the charmed cake. This, having been once fairly placed on the griddle (in those days our forefathers knew little of the oven for such uses), became an object of interest more than one, and many were the sly coleens who, when the lad of her choice placed in the fire a sprig of the still verdant holly or Ivy that decorated the kitchen, would adroitly steal in another little sprig to the blazing pile, to see if her fortune burned and kept pace with his; if it did so, (like the burnt nuts of All-Hallows eve) a smooth current of happiness for the coming year was indicated.

Those were, indeed, days of simplicity, when the Baron and the peasant met alike under the same roof; when even the humble itinerant fiddler who played his way through the country was expected to witness the next aspirant to manhood lay hold of the well-made and substantial cake, and, with his mimic strength, dash against the door, when it was shivered to pieces, while the assembled witnesses of the scene offered up in spirit an humbled but fervent prayer that cold, want, or hunger might not enter that door for the ensuing year. The fragments of the cake were then scrambled for, and certain was he or she who succeeded in securing the first fragment that touched the ground, that they, too, would have a home and a New Year's Cake ere the next year was out.

To this succeeded a scene of romping, eating and drinking, dancing and singing, such as can only be witnessed in Ireland; And the mirth continues up to the hour that marks our passage from one year into another, when a fervent prayer is offered up to Him who has brought us thus to a new year, and enabled us to see the light of another.

We recollect, when a schoolboy, thinking with delight over our promised enjoyment of a New Year's Cake, and of all our school fellows having the same promise of enjoyment held out to them; whereas we believe that the practice is now only carried out in the more comfortable and wealthy homes of the South and Midland counties of poor old Ireland.

It is a tradition that was certainly lost to me until recently - and there are another couple in there too regarding the burning of holly and nuts. The wording is a bit difficult in places to our modern ears given the language, grammar, and syntax of the middle of the 19th century but I am sure you get the gist of the tradition; the baking of bread/cake in a griddle pan, and it then being smashed against the door by a son in the household for luck, with an extra dose of fortune for the person who got the first piece to hit the ground.

Anyone up for it?

Liam

All written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its source, and a link back to this post.

Newspaper images are © The British Library Board - All rights reserved. With thanks to The British Newspaper Archive (www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk) from whom I have received permission to display these images on this site.

Mixing your Festive Drinks? Part II - More Christmas Cups ...

In yesterday's post I focussed on beer-related wintery drink mixes or 'cups', but in this one I'll mix in some other non-beer recipes. Some of these will be familiar to some of you although the ingredients and process does vary with time and author so they may not match your own versions or other you have read. All are listed in Oswald Atherton 'Mac' Fleming's 'Gourmet's Book of Food and Drink' published in 1933.

As mentioned in the last piece, some of the ingredients might be hard - or even impossible - to get so some substitution may be required. I have left the recipes in Imperial measures so some conversion may also be required. please note I have paraphrased some of the recipes to make them slightly clearer but left most of the ingredients as stated. Some quantities are for sharing and may need to be decreased as you will see, please act responsibly!

Auld Man’s Milk

Heat a pint of Scotch Ale with a ¼ ounce of cinnamon stick, ¼ ounce of ginger and a ¼ ounce of nutmeg; beat the yolks of two eggs with a little brown sugar and pour the ale mix on top and stir, then add a measure of whisky.

Rumfustian

Heat up a ½ bottle of sherry in a saucepan and add ¼ ounce of bruised cinnamon, ¼ grated nutmeg, 3 bruised cardamom seeds, 2 ounces of sugar and the thin rind of a lemon; whisk up the yolks of 3 eggs with a pint of ale and a pint of gin and pour the strained sherry into the mix while stirring.

Egg Flip

Heat a quart of good ale; beat the yolks of six eggs with ½ a nutmeg and ½ a pound of sugar with a wineglass of whisky or gin; skim the froth from the ale into this mixture and just before it boils pour all the ale into the mix slowly and while stirring.

Lamb’s Wool

Roast eight apples, mash them and add to a quart of old ale, press and strain; add ginger and nutmeg and sweeten to taste.

Hot Spiced Ale

Heat a quart of good ale and add ½ a grated nutmeg; beat two eggs with a little cold ale and add the hot ale while stirring; add a piece of butter and serve with dry toast.

‘Tween Deck Cup

Put ½ dozen cloves in a pint of rum with a little ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg and strain after one hour; add an equal quantity of lime juice and 2 quarts of bottled ale.

Bishop a la Cutler

Beat the yolks of two eggs and add a ½ pint of boiling milk followed by a pint of whisky, stirring constantly; sweeten to taste and add a little nutmeg and cloves

Beadle

Pound a ¼ ounce of cinnamon, four cloves and a ½ ounce of ginger together and add to ¼ pound of sugar and a pint of boiling water, then strain; add the mix to the yolks of two eggs, whisking constantly then add a glass of raisin wine and six glasses of ginger wine; serve immediately.

Sleeper

Boil six cloves, ¼ ounce of cinnamon stick, eight coriander seeds and 1 ½ ounces of sugar in a ½ pint of water; strain the mixture and add the juice of ½ a lemon and a ¼ pint of old rum; add the mixture gradually to two egg yolk, whisking as you do; serve immediately.

Baltimore Egg-Nogg

Beat the yolks of three eggs with a ¼ of a grated nutmeg and two ounces of sugar, then add ½ a gill of brandy or rum and a glass of marsala or brown sherry; mix in the whisked whites of the eggs followed by a gill of cream and a pint of milk.

Excellent Negus

Warm a bottle of sherry or port in a saucepan and add 2 ½ pints of water, the juice of one lemon and a little of the peel rubbed in sugar, grated nutmeg, and sugar to taste - followed by one drop of essence of ambergris[!] and ten drops of vanilla essence.

Apple Toddy

Put a baked apple in a heat-proof glass and add one ounce of fine sugar, one gill of brandy, ½ a pint of boiling cider; grate some ginger on top of the mix and add a piece of lemon peel.

So, there's another collect for you to experiment with, just watch those alcohol quantities, and drink cleverly. As with those in my last post I haven't actually tried any of these yet so I have no idea if they actually work or taste any good!

Liam

Gourmet’s Book of Food and Drink by Oswald Atherton Fleming with illustrations by William M. Hendy was published in 1933 by John Lane, The Bodley Head Ltd. in London and printed by Western Printing Services Ltd, Bristol, England. It is dedicated to his wife, ‘Who can make an omelette’ …

All written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its original source, and a link back to this post.

Mixing your Festive Drinks? Here are Some Christmas Cups ...

Over the last few years I seem to have accidentally - or perhaps incidentally - amassed an odd collection of drink and cookery-related books, and of these one of my favourites is 'Gourmet's Book of Food and Drink' published anonymously by an enigmatic Scottish journalist called Oswald Atherton 'Mac' Fleming in 1933 with illustrations by William M. Hendy. It’s a very readable volume and contains recipes, memoirs and much idle banter including excerpts from columns he wrote in the London Evening News and also the Sunday Chronicle. Unsurprisingly there is very little Irish content in its pages but it is still an interesting and curious book - and there is a very vague Irish connection in so far as Fleming was married to Dorothy L. Sayers who worked on the Guinness marketing campaign with John Gilroy, and according to some sources even came up with the now famous toucan idea.

In the book Fleming includes a few chapters solely on drinks and what may be of interest at this time of the year are the various recipes for mixed drinks - ‘cups’ - that he has gathered together in two chapters, and given the season I thought it might be a good time to transcribe them here so that perhaps some of you might experiment over the next few festive weeks.

There are over two hundred ‘cup’ recipes in the book covering all manner of alcohol and perhaps half that amount again in punch recipes, but given my interests I will just focus on some of the beer-related ones here.

Before get started I must quote Mr. Fleming and state that ‘ale and beer cups should be made with good sound ale, and drunk from a tankard; being more palatable and presentable in this way than in glasses’, and I wholeheartedly agree.

I will just include the more wintery sounding ones for now, with any ice being very optional. Some of the beers and ingredients might be hard - or even impossible - to get so some substitution may be required. I have left the recipes in Imperial measures so some conversion may also be required. please note I have paraphrased some of the recipes to make them slightly clearer but left most of the ingredients as stated. Some quantities are for sharing and may need to be decreased as you will see, please act responsibly!

Cambridge Ale Cup
Boil 3 pints of water with an ounce each of cloves, cinnamon, mace (all bruised together) for an hour and strain; add 3 ounces of fine sugar with the juice and thin peel of a lemon with 3 pints of good ‘college’ ale and ½ pint of sherry; heat before serving with a thin slice of toast sprinkled with nutmeg.

Jehu’s Nectar
Grate a little ginger into a small glass of gin-and-bitters and pour into a pint of heated good ale, this should be drunk while frothing.

Councillor’s Cup
Rub the rind of two oranges with sugar and steep in a half pint of brandy, then add the juice of one lemon and a ½ pint of orange juice. (Here the recipes states to add a pint of water but I’d suggest a pint of red ale and serve hot, sweetened to taste.)

Porter Cup
Mix ½ a grated nutmeg with a wineglass of sherry and strain after 15 minutes; add to a half a bottle of Claret and a bottle of porter and serve in a jug with a slice of cucumber and a large lump of ice.

Hot Cup
Warm a pint of good ale and add an ounce of sugar, and an ounce of mixed spice plus a glass of sherry; when nearly boiling pour it on a round of buttered toast.

Copus Cup
Roast a lemon full of cloves before a fire until it is dark brown; mix up a quarter pint of brandy, the same of noyeau [French liqueur noyau?] then add a half a stick of cinnamon; put a slice of toast in a bowl and add the lemon on top of it a gently squeeze it; add 4 ounces of fine sugar and two quarts of hot old ale and the spirit mix, leave for 15 minutes and serve.

Ale Cup
Mix a half ounce each of nutmeg, ginger, and cinnamon with 3 ounces of brown sugar and beat with the yolk of three eggs; warm a half a gallon of good ale and a half pint of gin and pour into the mix whisking it all together; drink immediately while it is still frothing.

Freemason’s Cup
Mix a pint of Scotch ale, a pint of mild beer, ½ a pint of brandy and a pint of sherry with a ½ pound of sugar-candy and a little grated nutmeg to taste. can be served hot or cold.

Purl or Early Birds
Heat a quart of ale with a tablespoon of ginger and nutmeg; whisk in a gill of cold ale and 2 ounces of sugar with three fresh eggs; when frothy add the warm ale slowly, with a glass of spirits and drink immediately.

Aleberry
Mix 3 spoonful [No size given] of fine oatmeal with a quart of old ale then boil the mix and sweeten; add the juice of one lemon, ½ a grated nutmeg, a little ginger powder, and a half a pint of wine; float a slice of toast on top before serving.

Ale Posset
Add a round of buttered toast to a quart of old ale; add grated nutmeg to the toast and a little sugar, then one pint(!) of sherry and serve hot.

Sir Walter Raleigh’s Ale Posset
Mix a ½ pint of dry white sherry with a ½ pint of good ale; add a quart of boiled cream that has been flavoured with spices and strain through a fine cloth - seemingly a favourite remedy for colds…!

So, there are 12 for starters, I’ll put up some more in the next post. I must admit I haven’t tried any of these yet and as mentioned the volumes stated will need adjusting for solo drinkers.

Er, enjoy…?

Liam

Gourmet’s Book of Food and Drink by Oswald Atherton Fleming with illustrations by William M. Hendy was published in 1933 by John Lane, The Bodley Head Ltd. in London and printed by Western Printing Services Ltd, Bristol, England. It is dedicated to his wife, ‘Who can make an omelette’ …

All written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its original source, and a link back to this post.