How to down a pint quickly

1. Let the beer warm up a little bit. You don’t want to get brain freeze from downing a freezing pint.

2. Try get rid of as many bubbles as possible, you can try getting another glass and pouring the beer in and out of the two glasses.

3. Right before drinking, hit the bottom of the glass on the table to release carbon dioxide.

4. Lean your head back slightly, open your throat and take a half breath right before drinking your pint.

5. Swing the glass so the beer rushes to the back of your throat. The trick is to swallow right before the liquid actually hits your throat, because the beer will essentially just pour down your throat. (This is also known as opening your gullet.)

How to down a pint without feeling sick

– Don’t forget to drink water throughout the night, especially if you’re prone to throwing up. Never down the water or drink it quickly as it will upset your stomach.

– Line your stomach with some food, obviously.

– Eat some ginger, studies have powerful anti-nausea properties.

– Know your limit and stop drinking when you know you’ve reached your limit.

– Get some fresh air and cool yourself down.


There are heaps of studies out there which suggest the benefits of drinking with colleagues. Not only has it been proven to increase workplace efficiency, there is evidence that moderate drinking with colleagues can increase staff engagement, workplace cohesion, and reduce the prevalence of today’s ‘silent killers’ of stress and anxiety.

In fact, a study published in 2012 found that those with a blood alcohol concentration of the equivalent of just over a pint and a half solved problems more creatively than those who hadn’t drunk at all – so not only will having an after-work bevvy help boost company morale, it’ll also spur on more “eureka” moments.


Where We Come In…

Science aside, impact is another (and arguably the greatest) reason why beer is the best thing you can bring into your office. Becoming an Office Beer Club member means your company can sign up for weekly, bi-weekly, or monthly cases of beer whilst helping to fund the completion of a new water project. Every. Single. Month. But don’t just take our word for it, here is what current Club members have to say:

“The Brewgooder Office Beer Club ticks all the boxes for us. It is a great way to engage, motivate and reward our team on a Friday, while allowing us to share in a much bigger impact as part of a community of like-minded companies across the UK”. – Shane Corstorphine, VP Growth, Skyscanner 

“Working with Brewgooder has made our Friday “beer o’clock” a little bit more special: not just a time to celebrate a week of hard work but also to celebrate helping such a superb cause”. – Alan Duncan, Marketing Director (Europe), Trust Pilot

“It’s the only beer we’ve found with a great commitment to sustainability and community, and it’s great to keep it in the b-corp family”.Will Jones, Office Superman, Innocent Drinks.

So there you have it, drinking beer at work can strengthen company culture, increase productivity, and reduce stress all whilst helping to end water poverty… a win-win if you ask us. 


Brits love a bracing walk (and it’s set to be a pretty bracing start to Spring). In fact, we’d probably pick a rugged, cold climb up a crumbling path over a pleasant downhill stroll with the sun on our faces. It’s that red-faced, cheek-tingling, numb extremities feeling – it’s like our crack. Or maybe it’s the promise of a pint at the end. Because let’s face it, we all know what ‘bracing’ actually means. It means tip your heart rate ever-so slightly over 100bpm and let the wind whip you around enough so that three pints and a packet of crisps in front of an open log fire tastes even better. And you know what, there ain’t nothing wrong with that. Especially at the weekend.


1. Go for a walk in… Hampstead Heath

Home to Emma Thompson, 180 bird species and a pretty unbeatable view of London, Hampstead Heath is a beautiful place to take a stroll on a Sunday morning. A circuit of the Heath, starting and ending at Parliament Hill, is 6 miles long, which is that perfect distance between not-too-short that you’ll wonder why you bothered and not-too-long that you’ll…wonder why you bothered.


And then go for a pint at… The Spaniards Inn

A prominent feature of Hampstead since 1585, The Spaniards Inn was Keats and Dickens’ favourite watering hole back in the day. With dark panels and low beams stretching throughout the bar area, it’s certainly retained a touch of that 16th Century charm (even if the prices have suffered a bit of inflation). We’re not sure what the food was like back when the literary greats used to frequent it but we can safely say that by 2015, these guys know how to do a damn good Scotch Egg.

Spaniards Road, Nw3 7JJ


2. Go for a walk in…Richmond Park

Not just a prime location for getting a pic of Bambi and his mates, Richmond Park is also a top UK site for ancient trees and has over 250 different types of fungi (if it looks like a parasol don’t eat it I DON’T CARE HOW SKINT YOU ARE). The road around the edge of the park is 6.73km long but for a more scenic walk make sure you dip into the Isabella Plantation – it’s a beautiful spot that we could talk about till the cows come home. Or the deer.


And then go for a pint at…The Roebuck

Situated atop of Richmond Hill, the Roebuck offers beautiful views of London, which make the District Line shlep there totally worth it. After a long walk around the park (and a huff and puff up the hill), a pint at this much-loved local will feel like that first sip of water after a sleepless night. Too dramatic? Maybe. Apparently The Roebuck has fed Pete Townshend, Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall…hopefully not all at once.

130 Richmond Hill, TW10 6RN 


3. Go for a walk in… Victoria Park

The City’s oldest purpose built park, Victoria park is the ultimate East London go-to-for-your-greenery. A bit rougher round the edges than the its western counterparts, Vicky park is a great place to get one-to-one with nature and watch the seasons change. It’s also wonderful for the littluns with some great playgrounds and a pretty impressive array of wildlife.


And then go for a pint at… The People’s Park Tavern

Arguably one of the best beer gardens in town, this grown-up hipster hangout backs onto Victoria Park so it’s the perfect place to visit after an afternoon stroll. This superb Hackney pub has its own micro-brewery on site and they also serve hearty, traditional pub food, with a rather magnificent roast lunch option on the day of rest. Because let’s be honest – what else are Sundays for?


WHETHER IT’S AN old-school pale ale or a sumptuous pint of stout, one thing is for sure: no one keeps cask beer quite like the British. While more or less every pub in London will have a couple of lines of cask on draught, it’s not always of tip-top quality. For the absolute best selection of cask beers – old-school and craft – give these pubs and bars a go. 

The Harp


If the thousands of pump clips hanging above this Covent Garden pub’s bar say anything to us, it’s that they probably know a thing or two about keeping a good pint of real ale. With an ever-evolving list of guest taps pouring a stellar selection of the UK’s finest ale from old favourites and craft upstarts (and most of it not silly-expensive), this is an absolute must if you’re at a loose end in the centre of town.

The Euston Tap


Often monopolised by chain pubs and uninspiring tap lists, station boozers in London tend to get a pretty bad rap. The Euston Tap and its sister bar The East Lodge – both in Euston Square Gardens – change things. With a whopping 16 cask beers served across the two sites on a regularly rotating list, and some pints from just £3.40, we might start commuting via Euston just to drink here.

The Wenlock Arms


It’s had its fair share of ups and downs since it poured its first pint in 1836, but backstreet Hoxton boozer The Wenlock Arms keeps coming back stronger than ever. Since almost being demolished in 2013, it’s become rather well known for its old-school vibes, forward-thinking cask beer selection and unfussy pub grub. So much so that CAMRA named it North London pub of the year last year. Nice.

Moor Vaults

71 ENID ST, SE16 3RA

Seconds from Maltby Street Market, this South London outpost for Bristol’s Moor Beer Co brings a small, three- to six-line selection of top-class cask ale to the Bermondsey Beer Mile, giving you respite (however brief) from all those dank hopped NEIPAs that have been floating around. Sure, the selection isn’t vast, but you won’t be complaining when you’re supping a pint of cask pale ale brewed with modern English hops.



A decade ago there was a revolution. A beer revolution.

Punk IPA is the beer that kick-started it. This light, golden classic has been subverted with new world hops to create an explosion of flavour. Bursts of caramel and tropical fruit with an all-out riot of grapefruit, pineapple and lychee, precede a spiky bitter finish. This is the beer that started it all – and it’s not done yet…

PUNK – Quintessential Empire with an anarchic twist.



Our scene-stealing flagship is a byword for craft beer rebellion; synonymous with the insurgency against mass-produced, lowest common denominator beer.






















Extra Pale, Caramalt




Ahtanum, Amarillo, Cascade, Chinook, Nelson Sauvin, Simcoe


water, malted barley. hops, yeast.


The final decades of the 20th century weren’t kind to Britain’s bottled beer styles. The popularity of old pub staples, Brown Ale and Light Ale, declined dramatically as their drinkers grew old and died.

In the middle of the century, it was a very different story. Light Ale, buoyed by the surge in sales of bottled beer, was a rising star of the pub trade. The dubious quality of much draft beer prompted drinkers to start mixing it with bottled beer. Light and Bitter—a half-pint of Ordinary Bitter topped up with a bottle of Light Ale—was one of London’s favorite tipples.

Light Ale had its roots in the second half of the 19th century, when a new type of lighter Pale Ale arrived on the scene. Lower in alcohol and lighter in body than stock Pale Ales, like Bass or Allsopp, Dinner or Luncheon ales were, as their name implies, often consumed with meals in the home. It was the beginning of the mass consumption of bottled beer. Until then, families either had casks at home or sent their children to fetch draft beer from a pub.

The first Dinner Ales were low gravity for the period. At the end of the 19th century, a typical one had a gravity between 1050 and 1055º. A Stock Pale Ale of the time would have been more like 1065º. And while Stock versions remained bottle conditioned well into the 20th century, Dinner Ales were some of the first non-deposit beers to hit the market; a characteristic that endeared them to customers, if not brewers.

The World Wars had an impact on the strength of Light Ales, as they did with all British beer styles. Though, along with other cheap, popular beers, such as Brown Ale and Mild Ale, they suffered disproportionately. Though gravities varied greatly, many Light Ales were around 1040º—close to average strength—in the 1920s and 1930s. By the 1950s, they were half-dozen gravity points below average, at little over 1030º.

Many drinkers preferred their Light Ales weak:

“The war years apart, the public has had stronger and better beers before it, and it has solidly preferred the weaker. It is not just a question of price, for many men will buy a light ale and pay more than they would for a half-pint of much higher gravity draught beer. In the face of this remarkable preference for the weaker drink it is commendable that brewers have persisted with their stronger beers, and that they are at present introducing new types and publicizing them widely.”
The Book of Beer by Andrew Campbell, 1956, page 199.

88FermentedCulture2The emphasis on cask beer after the rise of the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA) in the 1970s didn’t do bottled beers any favors, but particularly hard hit were cheap beers, like Brown Ale and Light Ale. While CAMRA fought to preserve threatened cask beer styles such as Mild, it ignored processed bottled beers. Soon, the traditional types were in terminal decline.

The Best of British Bottled Beer, published in 1994, lists 22 Light Ales. Six of them were brewed by national groups such as Bass or Whitbread, the remainder by established regional breweries. I would be very surprised if any of the 1,000 or so breweries founded in the intervening two decades have ever brewed a Light Ale. It’s not a style that gets beer geeks salivating.

And so another little piece of British brewing history is gradually fading from memory. Light Ale was never the most glamorous style, but it deserves better. At least to be remembered. I will—what about you? 


The change of seasons often brings a change in one’s palate. You might seek out a hearty stew or casserole in the colder months, but come summertime, a light, refreshing bite or a fresh salad might be in order. And if you’re a beer connoisseur, your desire for a thick stout might wane as summer approaches, and you turn to light, refreshing brews, such as a shandy or radler (pronounced /RAHD-luh/), to enjoy on your patio. Some readers may have also experienced the French version of the shandy called panaché, which means “mixed” in French. 

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Charles Dickens once commented that it was the perfect “alliance between beer and pop.”

Whereas, nowadays, a shandy is considered a blend of beer with any nonalcoholic beverage, the original specifically was beer mixed with ginger beer or ginger ale. (Both ginger beer and ginger ale are believed to have originated as alcoholic brews but were then processed as soft drinks, making their names misnomers as early as mid-19th century. Typically, ginger beer has a stronger gingery flavor.) Another traditional mixer for a shandy is carbonated lemonade. 

The term shandy itself is a shortening of shandygaff, which first appears in 19th-century England. Although we don’t know for sure how the name shandygaff came about, we are fairly certain that the concept of a beer cocktail traces back centuries earlier. And we are definitely sure that a shandygaff was enjoyed. Charles Dickens once commented that it was the perfect “alliance between beer and pop.” In The Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green—an 1853 novel about a first-year undergraduate at Oxford University written under the pseudonym Cuthbert M. Bede—Mr. Green states that a friend taught him “to make shandy-gaff and sherry-cobbler …: oh, it’s capital!” By late-19th century, shandygaff is shortened to shandy, and creative imbibers begin experimenting. Refreshing, effervescent lemonade becomes an early substitute for ginger beer. Other mixers such as orange and grapefruit juice soon follow, along with cider.

Shandygaff is a compound word, but as to why the base words came together (or in what senses they are used in) is a mystery. Inevitably, there has been speculation. Some people have suggested that gaff is a portmanteau of ginger and half. That’s possible, but what about the other multiple uses of gaffthat enter the English language by mid-19th century? Quite possibly, one of those could have been applied jocularly for the beverage’s name.

The most common use of gaff is as the name for the spear or hook used for lifting heavy fish out of the water. Another gaff refers to loud laughter (as in “his resounding gaffs filled the room” or “he gaffed merrily”)—senses found in dialectal Scottish English. There is also gaffmeaning “a fair” or “a place of lower-class amusement (as at a theater or music hall).” In a 1918 collection of essays entitled, fittingly, Shandygaff, American writer Christopher Morley links the word shandygaff to the lower classes, “Shandygaff is a very refreshing drink, being a mixture of bitter ale or beer and ginger-beer, commonly drunk by the lower classes in England, and by strolling tinkers, low church parsons, newspaper men, journalists, and prizefighters.” As early as the 17th century, shandy was also being used in dialectal English as an adjective to refer to people who were wild, boisterous, or slightly crazy. Perhaps, the “place of lower-class amusement” sense of gaffand this sense of shandy were blended together. It’s certainly not unreasonable to think that people drinking shandygaffs in lower-class establishments got a little wild—we just need to find evidence corroborating this etymology. 

The radler is a lesser-known beverage—essentially, it’s a German lemon shandy—but like shandygaff, its history is uncertain. In German, the word Radler originally means “bicyclist,” and stories on the origin of the drink’s name are centered on that meaning. Anecdotal evidence suggests that the drink was conceived by an innkeeper in the early 20th century who either needed to stretch his supply of beer to accommodate his customers—who were mostly cyclists (his inn was, apparently, on a popular bike route)—or desired to provide a refreshing, less-alcoholic beverage to the riders. In either case, his solution was to mix the beer with the lemon soda that he had on hand. The thirsty customers loved it, and the beverage was apparently named after the cyclists. We’ll say that the drink likely has a connection to cycling, but we are skeptical about the name’s origin story—and its many versions.

The fact that we’re uncertain about the etymologies of shandy and radler doesn’t change what the words signify: a beer cut with a refreshing nonalcoholic mixer (and the ratio of beer to mixer is according to preference). Enjoy a shandy or radler on a hot day, or if you’re not a beer drinker, maybe mix up some iced tea and lemonade and enjoy an Arnold Palmer instead.


Lager brewing had a stuttering start in Britain. Many new lager breweries of the final decades of the nineteenth century had a lifespan measured in months, not years. Only a couple of the pioneers were able to forge a long-term business. Many lost their shirts.

So it’s odd that one of London’s big porter breweries would invest in such an uncertain venture. But in the early 1920s, Barclay Perkins built a shiny new lager brewhouse and brought in a Danish brewer to run it.

Barclay Perkins seems to have gotten the idea a few years earlier during World War I, when foreign supplies of lager were cut off, not just from Germany and Austria-Hungary, but also from Denmark and Holland. The war at sea made exporting a highly risky business, even for neutral countries. In 1915 and 1916, Barclay Perkins experimented with decoction mashing in their pilot brewhouse, brewing lager and mild with this mashing technique. 

When Barclay Perkins rolled out their lager, they eschewed faux-Nordic names (unlike brewers of British lagers of the 1960s) and went for a simple and honest “London Lager” brand. Judging by the style of its advertising, it was meant to appear classy.

Our Brew

Munich- and Vienna-style lagers were the first bottom-fermenting beers to arrive in Britain in the 1860s. The lager featured in our recipe is obviously meant to be in the Munich style and has a pretty decent gravity for 1920s Britain when the average gravity was about 1.043. The grist for our recipe is simplicity itself, consisting of just pilsner and crystal malt, roasted barley, and Saaz hops. Neither the roasted barley nor the crystal malt is very authentically Bavarian, but it seems Barclay Perkins didn’t care about that.

Learn to create crisp, cold-conditioned lagers at home with CB&B’s Introduction to Lagering online class. Sign up today! 

One frustrating feature of most brewing records is the absence of information about hops additions, which reduces me to guessing. Happily, Barclay Perkins is an exception. In this particular case, guesswork would never have worked out this hopping schedule. Additions later than 30 minutes were very rare, but in this recipe, two-thirds of the hops are added late. The 0-minute addition that I’ve listed was actually added in the hopback.

I’ve spent a lot of time arguing that Scottish brewers didn’t really boil down first runnings to get a syrup. But based on the brew sheet, Barclay Perkins did with this lager:

“6 brls [barrels] bright runnings boiled for 3 hours or more for carmelisation”

At the scale we’re brewing, six barrels is the equivalent of about a half-gallon.

The original beer was racked off into lagering tanks after a 10-day primary fermentation. It had a gravity of 1.021 when transferred and had a temperature of 46°F (8°C). For our recipe, I suggest doing something similar, transferring the beer to a temperature-controlled secondary when you hit a gravity of about 1.020. Then drop the temperature down to about 35°F (2°C) for a few weeks to knock off the rough edges. 

The longer you can keep your hands off this beer, the better. The old rule of thumb of one-week lagering for every degree Plato of the wort seems like a good recommendation to me. In this case, that would mean fourteen weeks.

1926 Barclay Perkins Dark Lager Recipe


Batch Size: 6 U.S. gallons (22.7 liters) 
Brewhouse efficiency: 72% 
OG: 1.057 
FG: 1.016 
IBUs: 15 
ABV: 5.4%


10.75 lb (4.9 kg) Pilsner malt 
2.25 lb (1 kg) crystal malt 
0.25 lb (113 g) roasted barley


0.5 oz (14 g) Saaz at 60 minutes 
0.5 oz (14 g) Saaz at 30 minutes 
1.25 oz (35 g) Saaz at 10 minutes 
0.75 oz (21 g) Saaz at 0 minutes 


Mash at 154°F (68°C). Sparge at 175°F (79°C). Boil for 60 minutes. Pitch the yeast when the temperature falls to 48°F (9°C).


White Labs WLP838 Southern German Lager Yeast


If you fancy doing a full reconstruction of this recipe, try the original mashing scheme (raising the temperature with steam): Protein rest at 122°F (50°C) for 1 hour. Saccharification rest at 154°F (68°C) for 20 minutes. 
Mash out at 168°F (75°C).


Batch Size: 6 U.S. gallons (22.7 liters) 
Brewhouse efficiency: 72% 
OG: 1.057 
FG: 1.016 
IBUs: 15 
ABV: 5.4%


9.25 lb (4.2 kg) Pilsner liquid extract 
2 lb (907 g) crystal malt 
0.25 lb (113 g) roasted barley


0.5 oz (14 g) Saaz at 60 minutes 
0.5 oz (14 g) Saaz at 30 minutes 
1.25 oz (35 g) Saaz at 10 minutes 
0.75 oz (21 g) Saaz at 0 minutes 


Steep the specialty grains at 160°F (71°C) for 30 minutes. Bring the wort to a boil, then turn off the heat to avoid scorching the extract. Add the extract, stirring while you add it. When the extract is fully dissolved, turn the heat back on, and bring the wort to a boil. Boil for 60 minutes. Pitch the yeast when the temperature falls to 48°F (9°C).


White Labs WLP838 Southern German Lager Yeast


There were more than 4,000 different brews available in the 60s, so we cannot list them all. This is a list of the most important ones.

Keg bitters on draught

  • Worthington ‘E’
  • Ind Coope Double Diamond
  • Whitbread Tankard
  • Watneys Red Barrel
  • Younger’s Tartan Bitter
  • Courage Tavern
  • Flowers Keg Bitter

Draught bitters

Some of these were not available for the whole of the period. I have added John Smith’s because of its popularity today. It was very much a regional beer in the 60s.

  • Bass Red Triangle
  • Worthington IPA
  • Ind Coope Bitter
  • Worthington IPA
  • Whitbread Bitter (60s)
  • Whitbread Trophy (70s)
  • Watneys Special
  • Younger’s Scotch Ale
  • Courage Bitter
  • Ansells Bitter
  • Mitchells and Butler’s Brew XI
  • John Smith’s (Tadcaster) Bitter

Retrowow reader Nathaneal remembers the TV adverts for Whitbread Trophy:

I have a strong memory of the advert on telly about “Whitbread, Big Head, Trophy Bitter, the pint that thinks its a quart. It’s got the body, the body, that satisfies – It can’t be modest, no matter how it tries!” Aye, those were the days, lad!

See UK television commercials 19551985 for the full text and some other classic adverts from the 50s to the 80s.

Draught milds

Most breweries in the 50s and 60s offered a mild. There were offerings from Green King, Greenall & Whitley, Charrington, Watneys, Whitbread, Courage, John Smith’s, Ind Coope and Ansells amongst many others. One particular favourite for Midlands’ drinkers was Mitchells and Butlers (M & B) Mild.

Whitbread Pale Ale, what other luxury could you buy for 8p in 1971?

Best pale ales (bottled)

Bottled best pale ales were growing in popularity in the 50s. To a certain extent this growth was brought to an end when keg bitter was introduced. It offered similar characteristics for a cheaper price.

  • Bass Red Triangle
  • Ind Coope Double Diamond
  • Worthington White Shield IPA
  • Charrington Toby Ale
  • Younger’s No. 3 Scotch Ale
  • Watneys Red Barrel (Export)
  • Whitbread Pale Ale
  • Whitbread (Flowers) Brewmaster
  • Vaux Double Maxim

Brown ales

  • Ansells Nut Brown
  • Fremlins Double Elephant Brown Ale
  • Greene King Burton Ale
  • Whitbread Forest Brown

Light ales

  • Charrington/Hammonds Prize Medal
  • Fremlins Elephant Light Ale
  • Younger’s Pale Ale
  • Ushers India Pale Ale
  • Whitbread Light Ale


  • Guinness
  • Mackeson (Whitbread)
  • Watneys Cream Label

Strong ales

Often sold in nip bottles (one third of a pint), strong ales were gaining a following in the late sixties and early seventies. These are some favourites from the past.

  • Whitbread Gold Label
  • John Smith’s Magnet Old Ale
  • Younger’s King of Ales
  • Daniel Thwaites Old Dan
  • Watneys Stingo
  • Ind Coope Arctic Ale

Thanks to Mr L Prior for Ind Coope Arctic Ale: 

It was a rival to Gold Label and very similar. I just thought I might mention it. Ind Coope vanished like a lot of our famous breweries. My family used to work for them in Burton on Trent back before World War II. They took over Benskins in Watford in the 60s and I lived there and saw the demise of Benskins. I’m told the old Benskins best bitter recipe lives on in a micro brewery in Devon and it’s known as Vale Best Bitter.Mr L. Prior


Lager gained in popularity throughout the 60s, but did not challenge draught bitter until the 70s. These are some of the lagers available in Britain in the 60s.

  • Carling Black Label
  • Heineken
  • Carlsberg
  • Skol
  • Harp Irish Lager
  • Tennent’s Lager (canned)
  • Tuborg Green Label Pilsner

By the seventies you could also get

  • Carlsberg Special Brew
  • Stella Artois
  • Carlsberg ’68
  • Holsten Pilsner
  • Beck’s Bier

The popularity of these latter brews increased substantially in the 80s and in some cases the 90s.

Can you buy it today?

Keg bitter

As far as any of the more popular 60s keg’s are concerned, the answer is no. 

Bottled beer

A good number of the most popular bottled pale ales are still available. Worthington White Shield IPA is available, as is Bass Red Triangle. I have also read that you can buy Double Diamond at Morrisons (although I have yet to find it!).

The one great discovery for me doing this research was Whitbread Gold Label Barley Wine. It is a strong beer sold in small cans (the cans were introduced in 1975). It has quite a sweet taste and is very pleasant – perfect for a night cap.  Whitbread Gold Label Barley Wine is available in Sainsburys, Waitrose, Morrisons and some local Co-ops.


Most of the popular brands from the 60s and 70s are still available in the supermarkets. I have seen Skol, Carlsberg, Carling (without the Black Label) and Harp.


Mild has continued to decline in popularity and there are few available now. Whitbread still do canned draught mild and you can also get Sainsbury’s own brand.


Looking for seasonal beers to try in 2019? We’ll recommend the best.

Spring Seasonal Beers to try in 2019

This winter has been a weird one. Much of the United States is experiencing a snow storm one day, and warm weather the next. So, we’ll recommend some brews that you can drink no matter what the temperature.

Great spring beer styles include fresh, dry styles. Many breweries are starting to put out their hoppy beers, so spring is the perfect time to embrace that style.

Here Are 8 of the Best Seasonal Beers to Try in Spring 2019:

Winter Seasonal Beers to Try in 2019

We just know this winter is going to be a cold one. Time to bear down and crack open a cold, yet warming brew for the winter months ahead.

Winter beers are typically heavier styles such as: stouts, porters, bourbon barrel aged and beers brewed with chocolate. These make for the perfect belly-warmers.

Here Are 10 of the Best Seasonal Beers to Try in Winter 2019: