As The Crow Flies - Ed.9 - Defying Gravity

An unfamiliar early 19th century building with a worn metal sign swaying back and forth, and hanging baskets flanking the doorway. A stolen glance through frosted windows like a carefully peeled back corner of wrapping paper on a much anticipated gift. Centuries old wooden doors creaking dramatically on their hinges, their tortured cry giving way to a low undecipherable hum. Music playing gently, hushed voices, the snap of a newspaper page turned with a flourish and a sudden roar of laughter that ripples over the gentle hum like a gust of wind across a bay. You close your eyes and breathe it all in, senses awash with the sights and sounds of The Pub in all its glory. But there is something amiss. A vital component conspicuous by its absence. You mentally tick off a checklist of essential pub elements. Old boy taking up half the bar with an obnoxiously sized newspaper. Check. A small group of 30 somethings migrating to the smoking area in a haze of 80s hairstyles and Lucy&Yak. Check. Decades old brewery paraphernalia. Check. A wall of pumpclips. Check. Handpulls….where are the handpulls? You frantically search for handpulls on the bar, but there are none to be seen. You were too enthralled by the sights and sounds of a new boozer, to notice the spectre at the feast and now it spills toward you like a blot of ink over a blank page. The reality of your situation unfurls and you are forced to confront the most unwelcome of guests. The gravity pour. 

There are a litany of adjectives I could use to describe the gravity poured pint. Insipid, uninspiring, lifeless, are but a few. But ‘sad’ is what best describes this strange phenomenon for me. The tableau of a freshly pulled pint of ale, foam buoyant and distinct above the darker hue of the liquid below, is a sight of unrivalled beauty. In contrast the limp portrait of a gravity poured pint feels like watching your dad being beaten up, seeing something you hold so dear, brought so low. 

For those who have not had the misfortune of experiencing a pint dispensed via gravity pour I should explain what it is and why it is used. Gravity dispensing is where ale is dispensed directly from a cask which is sitting horizontally, this is done via a tap which is hammered into the cask a short time before serving. For gravity dispense, the conditioning time between a spile being inserted into the top of the cask, and the start of service (<24 hours) is far less than that employed in most situations when using a beer engine system (~48 hours and more in some cases). The shorter conditioning time is due to a combination of factors. Firstly, often the nature of gravity dispensed beer, will mean it may not have been kept at the ideal cellar temperature (~12°C), this will alter the speed at which the beer conditions and ultimately spoils. Secondly the beer will not be forced through lines, and instead simply allowed to cascade straight into the glass like a small waterfall of woe, and as Chris Bamford, owner of The Crow, Rutland Arms, and the Harlequin tells me ‘’there’s so much brewery conditioning (nowadays) that there’s hardly any fermentation in the cask…and so if you’ve got no method to try and stimulate a bit of life after that you’re only ever going to get something flat and insipid”.

Commercial outlets, especially micropubs set up in old shop frontages, usually lack the cellar space required for stillages or the bar space needed for beer engine systems. Not to mention that beer engine equipment does not come cheap. So it is much more cost effective to have a small chiller behind the bar with enough space for a cask or two that are laid horizontally and set up perfectly for gravity dispense. This is the acceptable face of the gravity pour. When combined, the dual issues of money and space for small businesses are more than enough to warrant the employment of a more cost effective, if inferior, method. The real problem with gravity dispensing in micropubs is that these venues tend to favour modern beer styles which are terribly suited for being dispensed by gravity. IPA’s and hoppy pale ales live and die on their aroma, and without a sufficient head to trap all those beautiful aromas that contribute so much to the flavour, a beer loses all of its desirable qualities. Great care and attention are required to make sure that the potential of a beer is realised rather than evaporated. 

What I find perplexing is the over-employment of gravity dispense by CAMRA at regional beer festivals. These festivals are supposed to be about introducing the wider public to real ale, showcasing the benefits of drinking  good beer from your local independent brewers rather than the big macro companies that monopolise the beer fonts up and down the country. Surely, as a community, we should be putting our best foot forward, but instead quantity is seemingly prioritised over quality. I am not denying the logistical need for gravity dispensing at big beer festivals, space is short and beer engines are expensive, but there could certainly be a better balance struck. Gravity poured beer can be good, but it requires a number of factors to be just right, including but not limited to, carefully monitored venting times and staff training. Both of which are in short supply at festivals staffed completely by volunteers. There could be a solution in splitting the bars at a beer festival between a gravity poured bar with a wide range of beers available, to please the tickers, and a bar of beer engines with a more limited selection, which people new to real ale can be gently guided towards. This would also allow for more experienced volunteers to work on the gravity pour bar, ensuring that the beer is being delivered as well as it can be. 

I am a Midlands boy who has spent the entirety of their adult life in Yorkshire, as such I am predisposed to a lovely bit of foam on my pint. I understand that there may be southern drinkers who are inclined to put up a staunch defence of gravity dispense, due to their proclivity for drinking ale with a head no denser than a week old beer mat and with a flavour to match (I jest). I am also certain that there are plenty of people out there lining up to tell me how once in a blue moon, when a byzantine set of conditions are met, gravity dispensed beer can be just as good as its handpulled counterpart, and I agree with them. But one glistening exception does not outweigh an undesirable rule. I am an unapologetic friend of the froth and to those that aren’t I say “So though I can’t imagine how, I hope you’re happy….but I don’t want it, no i can’t want it…I’d sooner buy defying gravity.”