This is a piece about observations and should not reflect on either the business or the brewery and their practices as they can do what they want.
Just like people can spend their money on what they want but this event just confused me, that is was something I’ve never heard of should suggest that I write from a place of ignorance, so be it.
It was here I bumped into a man who knows his beers and he mentioned he was off to Pilcrow for a beer tasting he’d got a ticket to.
I’m no fan of the Pilcrow. For all its hand-made, locals-gave-their-time-and-labour ethos, it has always struck me as cold and efficient and all very, very cynical but as one of the party I was with hadn’t been, for the sake of plurality we trekked along and I was surprised at what I saw.
First it was busy, heaving in fact. All seats taken inside and it was also very full in the courtyard. I got a drink (as expensive as I’m sure the rent for this place is) and sat outside mulling it over when I bumped into yon mon again. He’d been to a separate token bar and treated himself to a couple of other Cantillon beers and the Boon.
That’s £2.50 for a third but if you’ve been to IndyMan you’re used to this pricing structure/one measurement only thing.
The beers were nice; I realise nice can seem like it is damning with faint praise but that is all they were nice, above average but then again this wasn’t the main event.
Not knowing what was going on I was then surprised to see a queue start forming, snaking out of the door and around the table I was perched at.
It was a queue I’d not seen since the likes of Port Street and any number of other bars where people have a curious notion of what it is to wait at a bar for service.
It was then explained that it was 8pm and this is when the Zwanze 2018 goes on sale.
The queue went pretty fast as people with blue wristbands came out with their lovely branded glasses and their 1/3s of this brand new beer.
The cost of this little extravaganza…
Twelve quid for 1/3 of beer (5.5%) and a glass that some would end up forgetting.
Though some were lucky enough to have got to the newly opened Northern Monk gaff and had a suitable tote bag all ready bulging with glassware.
My beer expert pal was totally under impressed. Being rather wry about the experience he did mention that he probably could have got it a damn sight cheaper from the places he regularly visits in Belgium but where as he was happy to attend he wouldn’t do it again.
It was at this point I was asked by a bloke with a most unsubtle Yorkshire twang where Victoria Station was. I motioned it was a minute away, then thought that if you were planning a night out, always work out how and where you get home from.
Then I thought that given the bullshit with striking guards and the incomplete timetable Northern Trains are currently working to because of this (and numerous other UK train crap bollocks shit nonsense) that it probably would have been cheaper and quicker for said Yorkshire gent to have gone to Brussels to try the beer.
Fifteen minutes later was when then next and most startling observation occurred. The whole place had emptied.
The inside was still well seated but no one was standing about and the outside looked like something from the Walking Dead.
It was eight thirty in the PM and that was Zwanze day.
A collective shrug was given as we said our good byes and went off to a far better drinking establishment.
Thanks for reading.