Last night I had two pints of Landlord and a pint of Bass. Less said about the latter the better: a brand pillaged by its owner, put out to seed and now wholly bereft of its nutty, malt loaf character, it has moved from sublime to ridiculous. This was brought into sharper relief in a week where it was announced that Bass’s former owner, and now in an ironic twist the parent of new cask leader Doom Bar, are preparing to expand capacity for that brand by 40%. The Landlord was something else though. This beer has made its long march from its home in Keighley not just in terms of miles, but in years. It seems a stubborn beer, letting the punches from lesser spotted craft IPAs and ‘blond’ ales roll off it as it sticks to its knitting. The only concession to modernity seems to be the dissonant inclusion of a web address on their pint pots, but other than that it’s wheatsheaves and stout, ruddy Yeomans all the way. What a fine beer this is: a beer for all occasions yet one with real character too. Deftly handled hopping, a strong malt backbone and a lengthy but not pronounced aftertaste that whistles to your taste buds to come back and finish the job. Shame I spoiled it all by asking for, “a pint of Landlord, Landlord”, inexcusably followed by a slight chortle, then an apology, the latter sparing me from being unceremoniously booted out – and rightly so. Next time I will keep such crassness to myself.
© Beer Tinted Spectacles, 2014