Pulling up outside what looked like just another house in the sleepy village of Great Heck, with the odd glance from a passing “local”, my beer companion and I had arrived, not knowing what to expect, on the dot of 07:15 for the start of our days brewing.

Denzil greeted us more like long lost friends rather than mere “internet acquaintances” and was obviously more used to getting up at dawn’s crack as he had already got the hot water tank up to temperature and had his brewing sheet in hand ready to guide us through the process of brewing Heck’s Angel, a golden ale normally around 3.9%.

Great Heck Brewery

Great Heck Brewery was founded by Denzil and his former business partner and home brew enthusiast Jason Hall in 2008 after meeting at a motorbike road racing club in Driffield. One beer led to another and Jason commented that if Denzil ever stopped racing bikes, the shed where he kept them would make a perfect microbrewery. He did and it does and that they say is history. The shed now contains a four British Brewers Barrel (BBL¹) microbrewery with a 12 BBL per week capacity alongside a cask washer and hand basin with a mezzanine floor above storing malt and hops. There is room enough for the empty casks to be stored in the gated yard and a room in Denzil’s house (attached to the shed) is now the cask cold store.

Our first task of the day was to measure out the malt ready for mashing. Not a hard task you’d think, weighing quality Fawcett malt and dropping it into a hopper to be gravity fed into the mash tun. It wasn’t – except for the part where my sylphlike figure had to climb a rickety ladder and squeeze into the malt store! That aside, it took longer for Denzil to give us his health & safety lecture (“….it’s much cheaper for me to kill you than pay out on a claim….”) than it did to do the task so now on to add this to the mash tun. For the uninitiated the mash tun is where the milled grain (or malt) is dropped into hot water to create what brewers call a cereal mash (this is where you find out brewers can never just call something what it is!!). All mashed in it was then, appropriately, time for breakfast.

Now those of you that already know Denzil know that he is a very hospitable fellow, his daughter and dogs certainly follow his example, but not many people know he is also a gourmand, great cook and to my beer companion and my delight is a great ambassador for “proper” food (non-supermarket meat, fresh vegetables, farm eggs etc) so to have him cook you breakfast is quite a treat. Pancakes were on the menu this morning and as we awaited these light, perfectly circular creations we were entertained by Miss Lucy Vallance, not 6 but nearly 7. School soon beckoned and our early morning break was over, back now to deal with the lautering and a process known as sparging.

Lautering is a process in which the sugar rich water is strained through the bottom of the mash after the temperature of the mash has been raised to around 75 degrees C and additional water is sprinkled on the grains to extract extra sugars (called sparging). This is not a very labour intensive process so we can get on with measuring out the hops for use in the next process – which once again means a death defying trip up the ladder of doom.

Once there it is clear that hops and the natural taste and aroma processes of brewing are a great passion of Denzil’s, some may mistake that for being a taste snob but I for one think that is a prerequisite of any successful brewer. I am told by my brewing friends that Cascade hops (created by Americans in the 1950’s by crossing English Fuggles and a Russian strain and grown in Washington State) are among the best quality available and are now more accessible than ever due to the market collapsing – a fall of nearly £20 a kilo created when the Belgian/Brazilian brewing giant InBev took over the company that owned Budweiser, Anheuser-Busch.

Combining Cascades to perfume Heck's Angel

Inside Great Heck Brewery...

We were to finish off last season’s batch of Cascade and combine it with this season’s batch – a much anticipated moment in the Vallance household. It is at this point that you realise a craft product is just so, crafted and not mass-produced or modified to create a homogeneous outcome. Last season’s hops were bitter, musty, green and a little earthy on the nose yet this season’s hops, opened with great trepidation by Denzil, were magnificent, fresh with a punch of bitterness. I am reliably informed by a smiling Denzil these are the best yet! We measured these into 3 batches for the triple hopping process we were to complete later on. Now back to the sparging…

At this point the liquid is known as wort and is now being added into the next vessel, the copper, where we will add the selected hops at 3 different stages (for bittering and aroma). My beer companion and I are now the chief supervisors of this vessel to ensure it fills correctly and after our keen eyes avert certain disaster it is brought to the boil where the first batch of hops are added and the copper closed.

The brewery, although far from other great monoliths of manufacture does reside next to the village pub, The Bay Horse. A respite for weary brewery workers and an obvious choice for lunch where a text or two earlier had reserved us three pints and three pies and as requested said pints were on the bar for us at 12pm sharp and the homemade steak pies were brought out shortly thereafter. This charming, beamed establishment complete with horse brasses and various artefacts converted numerous years ago from three cottages does a good line in home cooked fayre (my beer companion is still recounting tales about the succulent steak and a gravy boat that had certainly never seen a granule). Indeed I know of a certain Doncaster verger who makes a near weekly pilgrimage for Sunday lunch at The Bay Horse! Today the food is perfect for three weary brewers, if slightly let down today by the rather bland Old Mill Bitter. But no chance to chew the fat on that one though as we had to dash back to the brewery to ensure our boil was behaving itself.

Expertly timed (or caught in the nick of time?!) we were back to adding another batch of hops and ensuring the general cleanliness of the brew shed. This is vital as unlike microbrewers that have two separate rooms for the pre- and post-fermentation process, Denzil likes to keep the process simple with one open room keeping everything clean and sterile at all times. A harder task you may say but one Denzil is very diligent at, ensuring the highest of hygiene standards at all times.

Time now for my beer companion to add the last of the hop batches for aroma before the hopped wort clarifies and can be moved on to the next process. The wort is then transferred to the fermenting vessel through a heat exchanger to rapidly cool it to a temperature where the yeast can be safely added (heat kills yeast) – a job the liquid does itself with the help of a pump so the clean up process can begin in earnest.

Laying the hopped wort to ferment and become beer in the fermenting vessels

It was at this stage where three things came to light. The first being the novice nature of yours truly in not thinking through the process fully so therefore not wearing wellington boots. After deciding my “beer writer shoes” were ok to get wet we avoided a Withnail and I excursion for good quality rubber boots and my beer companion forgave me as he had just bought some new trainers anyway. The second being the complete lack (or at least for some number of years) of any physical labour ever being carried out by myself and my beer companion … cue wild laughing by Denzil as we tried to dig out the mash tun). Lastly being the fantastic “open house” way in which Denzil operates. Neighbours picking Lucy up from school, friendly postmen letting themselves in and Calor gas men dropping bottles off and not wanting to disturb Denzil about payment when he is busy brewing (“pay me next time”) – a lesson in trust and manners we could all learn from.

Adding the yeast (not from his own strain but new every time) and finishing the clean up, Denzil muses on his possible expansion plans with an offer already close on a neighbouring property so he can get his house back or at least put the infrastructure in for a small visitors centre and letting on that he would eventually love another brewery tap, this time in Leeds. My beer companion and I look back at a day well spent with an inspirational and enthusiastic brewer who has again awoken my passion for opening my own microbrewery.

And what of “our” Heck’s Angel? Well I can tell you hot off the presses that after taking a packaging sample Denzil informs me it is “the best yet”!!

The final act in this well spent day is a trip to Denzil’s current brewery tap, The Bull & Fairhouse in Wakefield city centre, by way of a lift from Denzil that has taken him far out of his way. We were able to toast his continued success with a pint of his Golden Bull, homage to his favourite White Lion beer from Bob’s Brewing Company (also available at the same bar). A pale and flowery lager style beer made with those Cascade hops. All I can say is the fact that we were still there a number of hours later on a day that started around 06:00 should speak volumes to you.

Part of the variance between attitudes to craft beer and beer produced on a much larger scale – and the clue is in the names of the former classification – is related to craftsmanship. Microbreweries are more hands on; they require the skill and ingenuity of a watchful brewer and they share the allure of slow food, local produce and a more traditional way of doing things.¹

What strikes me as strange though is the lack of respect for the workmanship involved in producing beers at an entirely different scale, the macro scale. At the risk of pissing off the realms of craft beer lovers I’ve met over the last 18 months there’s a – for want of a better word – hypocrisy at work when it comes to mass produced beer.^2,3

The LHC tunnel. Truly awesome. Photo: Maximilien Brice © CERN

I stand shoulder to shoulder with those who praise the magnitude and sheer audacity of the Large Hadron Collider at CERN, a modern wonder of engineering and a monument to the unbounded elasticity of human thought. I’m not expecting that people start to compare such a feat of human endeavour with a few dazzling mash tuns or a shiny new bottling line, but take it as exaggerated example of the way that craft beer production is praised whilst mass produced beer is mocked, something which doesn’t necessarily happen in other areas of human pursuit. In Three Sheets To The Wind Pete Brown visits the Miller brewery in Milwaukee and scoffs at the statistic-heavy-copper-light tour (rightly so, I’m sure). But Miller’s statistics hint at something oft forgotten: the efficiency of economies of scale and the brain power that helped achieve that.

It’s so secret that micro brewing isn’t exactly the most environmentally sustainable pursuit one can follow. I’m sure there’s good reason why rainwater and wind power aren’t viable solutions for the average craft brewery, let alone a home brewer. And mass produced lager travels a long way as its owners desperately try to monopolise every corner of the earth with their brand logo. But at a pure production level I think there’s something marvellous (in the truest sense of the world) at the way beer is brewed to meet the huge demand of Lloyd’s No.1 Bar and Tesco.

Having visited the maltings of Coors in Burton (just the maltings, not even any of the brewing buildings) I can vouch that the scale of beer production at that level is a feat of engineering and science that deserves praise up there with the best craft brewers. To build such facilities and maintain them is not something they should be ashamed of, in the same way that smaller, independent brewers are unerringly proud of their facilities and production methods, however quirky and different.

LHC cryogenics in action. Perhaps inspired by... Photograph: Maximilien Brice © CERN

...the malt stores of industrial brewers. Ok, perhaps not, but both fine examples of engineering nonetheless (if not in the same division!)

Where mass production loses its charm is in the kitchens and back rooms of budding home brewers across the globe. Because craft brewing is accessible. Anyone can set up a brewery. Perhaps few will ever nurture the skills to make truly great beer, but perhaps fewer still possess the aptitude to design the systems of mass production that make beer and countless other commodities on a scale that we take for granted.

Don’t get me wrong, in the course of praising the economies of scales of larger breweries I in no way want to disparage the work of any of the craft brewers that make the beers that I would argue are the best in the world. But even if you don’t like the taste, the marketing or the general arrogance of the mass producing oligarchs of the beer world, I don’t think it’s fair to leverage that viewpoint against the technology and expertise that goes into making them as tasteless and bland as the majority of the population prefer. I would argue when you (and I) do so, we do because of preconceptions (some but certainly not all of which are misconceptions) about who drinks what and where. Carling might be the drink of stag doers in Blackpool, but that doesn’t mean there’s no wonder in how they make it taste so much like corn and piss, so deliberately and so consistently.

I’m all for reducing beer miles, improving the quality of beer and encouraging diversity (something to be discussed shortly) and I reckon that to project negative perceptions on the larger brewers may at times in fact be a backwards form of justice. However I argue the case that mass production itself is not necessarily bad, and is in fact necessary for the sustainability of some beers. Mass production in fact can be something that deserves a little of our awe and appreciation. I believe it is a disservice to the engineers and scientists of days gone by and those of days yet to come as the population of the earth increases steadily.

I apologies for the stereotypes (unfortunately necessary in an attempt at succinctness) and I welcome your arguments for and against, partly in the hope I’m wrong and I can carry on hating A-B InBev unabated. ⁴

This marks the end of over 90 years of a brewing tradition in the North East and ends an association that has become mutually synonymous for both the locality and the brand.

This couples with the current threat hanging over the Tetley’s brand, with a reported shift of the famous Leeds beer to Northampton when Carlsberg closes the Tetley’s brewery next year.

Here at Real Ale Reviews, we champion innovation and development in beers, and could possibly be expected to be pleased to witness the downfall of the larger brands as their multinational owners struggle to balance vast production and decreased sales (resulting from, I am sure,  the growth in desire for a quality pint of cask ale as opposed to a bland ‘Smooth’ brand). However, there is a strong argument in the defense of traditionalism in brewing culture.

Myself and Mark met at University and one of our close friends is a Geordie. One of the first drinking memories I have of our friend is his pride as he introduced us all to the joy of Newcastle Brown. He made sure we were drinking it at the correct temperature; in the correct half-pint glasses and told us of drunken adventures he had enjoyed growing up in the North-East.

The Geordie was by no means an ale drinker, preferring the cost of cheap lagers that dominated the Uni years. But this was one of the things that he could show off to his new companions – Newcastle had a recognisable brand to be proud of. (Predictably, his other pride was Newcastle United Football Club, but that’s another story!).

As certain household brands came under corporate ownership, they immediately lost that sense of belonging and connection to the local community. No matter what promises a large company might make about retaining an interest in the region, money talks and it soon becomes apparent that large companies such as N&S (themselves owned by the Carlsberg Group) didn’t get themselves into positions of international importance by remaining in one place.

Discussing this move on internet forums, one thought that came across was the idea that some of the large brands that are seriously struggling would benefit from a move away from the larger owners and start afresh in a smaller, dedicated operation that produces the ale for the sheer love of it, putting some pride and care back into the brewing procedure.

Of course, this is a pipedream and there is certainly no shortage of excellent breweries across the country doing this with their own brands. But there is a reason that certain ales have survived as long as they have, outliving their contemporaries and continuing throughout a world that has changed dramatically around it.

This is far from the end of Newcastle Brown in terms of a production beer, but taking it away from its hometown makes it just another beer.