There's More To Life Than Great Beer. (Right?)

The last time I posted something here was in the late 17th century, during the latter days of the reign of King Charles II.

Or at least that's how it feels... and lately I've started to wonder why.

Having enthusiastically churned out around 160 reviews of beers from across the world, why would I suddenly lose the will?

It's not as though I've stopped getting excited about beer. After all, it's arguable that things have never been so exciting in the ever-widening world of brewing - as my three most recent acquisitions (pictured above) demonstrate with mouth-watering panache.

And it's not as though I've grown tired of writing either. During this period of blog silence I've been tinkering away with screenplays, revisiting old novel manuscripts (pretty decent one of them is, too) as well as knocking out the odd beer descriptor for any breweries which ask me to do so.

So what's my problem?

Well, after a lot of thought, I suspect I may have found the answer...

I think there may be more to life than beer.

I won't blame you for reading that last sentence three or four times, I know it's hard to compute.

But I have reason to believe it must be true because very often, when I sit down to extrapolate my views on yet another golden beer from the South East of England, I find I'm actually suppressing a more urgent need to talk about something else entirely. This suppressed 'something' comes in many forms, depending on what's going on in the world, it really could be anything, even something which - just imagine - hasn't the merest connection with beer at all.

So, having had this realisation - I've decided to shake things up and make some changes to this site. I'm going to break free from the shackles of my own design concept and use this quiet corner of the Webosphere to bleat on about whatever the heck happens to be on my mind. Who knows, maybe that other side of my life - that which involves prancing around in front of film cameras - might find a voice here. It seems that my rather odd profession can sometimes be of mild interest to many of you humanoids, so maybe it wouldn't hurt to share some of my 'on-set' experiences.

Maybe something will make me laugh or get me raging and I'll feel sufficiently compelled to share it. I don't really know how this will go, to be honest.

Beer will continue to feature, that's a given. Some beers are just too good to ignore. As things stand, the hyper intensity of creative energy, the abundant raw talent, and the sheer hard graft going on within the brewing industry will guarantee that I continue to get vocal from time to time.

But the unfortunate flipside of these unprecedented levels of brewing endeavour is that there is now way too much beer out there, and a lot of it simply doesn't inspire. So from now on only the brews that genuinely raise my spirits will be given air time here. Expect to find brews from Mikkeller, Avery, Evil Twin, Magic Rock, Kernel, Thornbridge, BrewDog, Russian River, Marble, Angel City, Cigar City, Beavertown, Sly Fox, Bear Republic and plenty more firms that fit comfortably onto this "kind" of list.

(You know what "kind" I'm talking about. Some like to call it "Craft Beer". Others then demand a more detailed explanation of what "craft" means. Then someone fetches a shotgun because they're so sick and tired of all this aimless, soul-destroying infighting.)

Anyway, there you have it. It's official. The Bottled Beer Year is back in action, replete with fancy new bells and whistles, and henceforth it will be - rather like life itself - about much more than pleasant tasting liquid.

I hope you'll stay tuned, and maybe you'll even enjoy it.

In the meantime, I'm going back on set.


(N.B. - The beers pictured are 'Gamma Ray' American Pale Ale from Beavertown, '113 IPA' India Pale Ale from Sly Fox and 'I Beat You' Imperial IPA from Mikkeller.  Each can now be found on the High Score Chart.)

Craft Beer In Hollywood.

I came, I saw, I drank their beer.

Although, in actual fact, I didn't drink a lot of their beer, and that became a surprising source of frustration.

The truth is that the craft beer scene in Los Angeles - whilst evolving nicely - makes it somewhat difficult for you to get your hands (and, more significantly, your taste buds) on American-brewed craft beer.

How weird is that? 

I certainly wasn't expecting it.

Sure, most of the craft beer bars in this part of the world tend to dazzle you with huge selections of taps at any one time, (imagine The Euston Tap on various banned steroids) but I was staggered by the tendency to avoid home-brewed US creations (in my opinion, the most exciting beers in the world at this moment in history) in favour of the European beers which inspired them. A modest portion of these ales hail from the UK, and include titles I was appalled to find being showcased in this new mecca of the craft beer world. Old Speckled Hen and Boddingtons were literally everywhere, as were my tears after a few days.

However, in spite of this apparent institutional reticence to get 'out and proud' about just how excellent their own products are, most other aspects of the scene in LA, particularly in Hollywood where I happened to be based, are extremely positive.

There are three venues I ended up frequenting more than others, and I'm going to say a few things about each, but the final of these mentions is also effectively an appeal, because whilst I was over there this fabulous and much loved joint was forced to close down for reasons beyond its own control and it may never be able to open its doors ever again.

First up, however, is BoHo, which sits in the fairly shocking setting of the H&H complex on the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue (hence the acronymous name). The H&H is a self-knowingly mighty, ultra modern structure which would appear at first glance only to appeal to tourists or people who enjoy feeling a sense of their own comparative insignificance in relation to giant media-focussed corporations.

Sounds grim, right?

Well, the journey up to the second floor terrace - however harrowing - is worth it every time.

BoHo has an average of 25 working taps, a clearly constructed beer list with knowledgeable assistance freely available from the affable bar-staff, and a great 'taster rack' option (a fabulous concept not unique to this part of the world, but ubiquitous within it) where smaller measures of a selection of beers can be enjoyed before committing to a larger glass of your favourite among them. (Or simply ordering another rack!) BoHo even add the nice touch of serving each measure separately to ensure every one is tasted at optimum temperature.  

The décor is typically 'aiming at' a style based on a perception of 'European' reality, but that fails to make it tacky despite the fact that it absolutely should. The food - prepared with equal pride as the beer - is excellent, including the very best French-Fries I can ever recall indulging in. 

This is a first class venue, and the one to which I returned most often during my stay.

Second up is Stout - Burgers & Beers (more often known simply as 'Stout') which sits in a far more 'authentic' street setting along Cahuenga Boulevard in between Hollywood Boulevard and Selma Avenue. 

I found this place a little irritating every time I went, which was a big shame because so much about it is otherwise perfect and I really wanted to like it more. However, I'll deal with the positive aspects first because they really are very positive indeed.

I couldn't count the taps which jut out of every spare inch of the back wall of the curved bar area, but let's just say there are probably as many taps as there are states in the Union. (Okay, maybe a bit less, but there are plenty!)

Again, the foreign brews outnumbered the domestics, but the selection is large enough to keep you happy without Europeans having to 'go back home' during a session. (Isn't it odd how US and UK beers seem to be revered more by their opposite numbers than by themselves at the present time!) The bartenders are always responsive to a 'geek level' enquiry (partly as I sensed most punters at this place just want 'a beer' and are far more interested in those other items referred to in this venue's full name which, incidentally account for a greater overall chunk of the place's considerable local reputation.) 

The open air 'beach hut' feel to the joint is nice and the vibe among the punters is relaxed and unpretentious. 

My unassailable gripe was simply with the members staff who work on the 'room side' of the bar, who carry themselves around the place as though it were perfectly obvious that they are of far greater significance within the confines of this establishment than any visitor could ever be. I once saw one poor guy sat near me at the bar ask a passing waitress for a bowl of fries and, with a look of undisguised contempt, she informed him that any customer sat in his position needed to "speak with the bar tender about that". It's one of those places (actually pretty rare in LA, in my experience) where there is no attempt to hide the fact that certain people are only nice to you because of the possibility that you will eventually show your appreciation for such friendliness in the form of a tip. You can almost smell the sense of - "Why be nice to people sat at the bar when protocol dictates that the bartender will eventually be taking their money?"

Making things yet worse, was the staff's tendency to conduct their conversations with each other (about whatever was on the 'after-hours' agenda) across the room at whatever volume was necessary, even if it meant leaving menu-clutching punters open mouthed in the middle of placing their order whilst they waited for the chat to conclude. (Which, on one occasion I witnessed, was a moment that never actually came!...The waitress in question in this case continued a conversation with a colleague across the room - pad in hand with half of the customer's food order already written down - until the folks who were trying to complete that order eventually made a decision among themselves to get up and leave. A proactive measure which the waitress herself remained oblivious to until they were long departed.)

All of the beer at Stout left a great taste in my mouth.

Some of the staff at Stout left an ulcer in it.

This brings me nicely on to the third venue, a place where great beer, great food and great atmosphere was very much enhanced by concious and diligent employees. What this third venue has been let down by, however, is the small print in its own tenancy agreement.

The Blue Palms Brewhouse, situated (or at least it was until very recently) on Sunset Boulevard near Gower Avenue, quickly became a favourite with proper brew loving Los Angelinos, and it's sudden closure - on the very day after I first discovered it - is a cruel blow to the entire craft beer identity of the city. 

Totally unaware of the imminent downing of tools, I chose this place to watch the Superbowl (an event which I learned much about from a fellow punter - the generally malt-preferring Brian - who succeeded in revealing to me that American Football is actually pretty damn riveting once you know what the hell is going on!)

It was only after the game was nearing its conclusion that word began to pass through the bar that this was actually its last night of business for the foreseeable future. Details emerged that ownership of the larger 'parent' building next-door (a cinema) had changed hands, and that new owners had ideas of their own about best use of the site. New ideas which were unlikely to revolve around the serving and enjoying of immaculately kept craft beer.

The closest we could get to the truth that night was that the closure was "Temporary... hopefully!" (Three weeks later, there has been little subsequent change in that night's unsettling assessment, and fears of a permanent 'lights out' are growing ever stronger.)

This, then, was a really mixed night for me. The discovery of the (long hidden) joys of the NFL, and the simultaneous discovery of a genuinely outstanding bar, one which was about to be comprehensively undiscovered through no fault whatsoever of its own.

To mention a few things that made (make) the Palms special are the beer list itself  (a giant screen looming over the bar like an airport departure board and filled with more beers than you ever thought could coexist under one roof), the sheer quality of the beer which appears shortly after a choice from that screen has been made, the terrific staff members who assist you with that choice and bring the chosen beer to you, and the relaxed but comfortable feel of the place in which you sit back and drink it. 

Those marvellous staff members, by the way, deserve far better in my opinion than to be left in limbo like there appear to have been. 

As well as the enormous choice on the screen, there is a separate Bottled Beer menu (pictured below, among a few other shots of this venue), and the fiendish lure of this particular list was one which I manifestly failed to resist. (Those of you who know this website will have guessed that I didn't actually attempt to resist it at all. Not one little bit.) 


So, all in, the loss of The Blue Palms is one which should absolutely be prevented if at all possible. I can only think to suggest to beer lovers across the world - who view any closures of such places as a seriously bad thing - that they 'tweet' their support to the staff themselves via this link or give a shout out on their own website here, in the hope that a large enough show of support might tip the balance in their favour.

Overall, there are a fair number of other fine craft beer joints in the Hollywood area of LA (Mowhawk Bend also comes highly recommended), and although this city still lags behind many other US destinations in this regard, it is certainly way ahead in a great many others, and the sooner this famous town has as many such bars as it merits the better. In the meantime I'd say it needs to fight as hard as it can to keep the excellent ones it already has.

It would be a bad time for LA to start losing what has become some very healthy momentum. 

----

(Here's a badly shot visual flavour of The Blue Palms, including my bottle of Avery Brewing Co's anniversary brew 'Seventeen' - a very decent dry hopped black IPA. Oily, 'roasty', hopped with restraint, and with an alcohol content which must have been deviously concealed by Darth Avery himself, assuming such a malevolent figure exists.)

Yes, I know, the Avery has a big head. 

It was the Superbowl! 

It's hard to pour beer in that kind of atmosphere!