Cheers — is this the perfect pint?

Press, 7 April 1984, Page 19

Cheers — is this the perfect pint?

By

PAUL WALLACE,

Features International

Put what looks for all the world like a large beef-stock cube into a pint glass, top it up with water until you have a foaming head, relax, and take a slow, satisfying gulp. What you should be tasting is something that has been eluding man ever since the time of the ancient Egyptians — the perfect pint of beer. “Beer cubes,” a Japanese invention using a computerised formula derived from traditional English brewing methods, are said to be the ultimate in drinking pleasure. At least, that’s the claim of the manufacturers.

They can be drunk at home or in the pub, and the amount of water added determines the strength of the pint. Variations are available, flavoured with apple or lemon — which, marketing specialists claim, will be the beer tastes of the future.

To the dismay of such tradition-, alists as Britain’s Campaign For Ale (C.A.M.R.A.) members,

microchip technology is now edging into beer production as the search for the perfect pint goes on.

Techniques born in California’s Silicon Valley have already created America’s first computer-brewed pint of hi-tech bitter. Using English yeast and hops, and American integrated circuits, the first barrels have already rolled off the production line.

Verdict of a party of English ale drinkers who tried it: “It’s a pleasant enough drink — but it’s not a pint of beer.” When more than 5000 beer enthusiasts were asked what made a perfect pint, the majority view was that it should be about seven per cent alcohol, have a deep, clear colour, should have a narrow but frothy head, and that characteristic biting after-taste. The vast majority also admitted that they had never actually drunk a pint that tasted quite as good as the perfect pint of their dreams.

C.A.M.R.A. has conducted its own 13-year campaign towards the traditionally-perfect pint, and now major brewers are admitting that there might be some room for improvement. Only recently, Professor Jim Hough, of Birmingham University, was given a $34,000 grant to produce a perfect pint that stays frothy to the bottom of the glass.

Even if his research is successful, there is already evidence that not all beer drinkers are happy at the amount of froth that goes into a pint at present. For instance, a survey by Britain’s National Consumer Council revealed that, while 65 per cent of beer and lager drinkers are fond of a head on their pint, they strongly object to its being counted as part of the measure.

“Froth is topping only, and people shouldn’t have to pay pintsize price for anything less than a full pint of beer,” a spokesman says.

Landlords disagree, claiming that the head is an integral part of a perfect pint. Extra measures would mean higher pump prices, they say.

So, if the froth-factor of the average pint is improved, will we be paying more for a pint? Arid will the new-look beer have a taste to match?

Modern brewing methods may have put some fizz into ale, but only at the expense of malt or hops. A pint just isn’t perfect unless you can taste them, purists claim.

Draught beer, preferably unpressurised, is the nearest thing to perfection, according to enthusi-

asts, claiming that bottles, cans, and plastic packs contain a bland, almost-tasteless beer, because of stabilisation methods used to stop it fermenting en route to the bottle store.

One small, independent brewer insists: “It is possible to produce a quality take-away pint, but big brewers just don’t try hard enough. Filtering and pasteurisation for packaging takes the taste away.” C.A.M.R.A.’s growing membership, who see perfection in the hoppy aroma of Ruddles, or the delayed action of Theakston’s Old Peculiar, claim that Britain’s major brewers are not pouring their profits into the search for a perfect pint, but into the pubs themselves.

Millions are being spent on transforming run-down locals into wine bars and cocktail lounges. The way ahead, say market strategists, lies in widening the appeal of pubs to attract women and families.

Many have now changed beyond

recognition, into aerobic studiobars, licensed health-food restaurants, and computer-games centres.

Brewers insist, of course, that beer quality will be maintained. But it is wine-sales — up 83 per cent and rising — and spirits that supply the essential image of the new locals.

A survey, conducted by the market research expert, Stuart Jackson, on the glamour image of drink, revealed that wine and spirits score highest. “Bitter,” he says, “is seen as the drink for the die-hard, down-market drinker.” That’s not a view with which Richard Gregory, author of a definitive book on beer and ale, would agree. “A pint of beer,” he says, “properly brewed, maintained, and poured, ranks with any alcoholic drink in the world.”

“To me, it is already a perfect pint. The only way it could possibly be made better would be if that occasional one-too-many gave me less of a hangover.”