It took me nearly two
weeks but I finally managed to make it to Newtown. In the good ol'
days when I lived in Sydney, it became a ritual to visit a cocktail
bar in Newtown every, or most Sundays. Sitting on the decking of the
upstairs and outdoor section of 'Corridor', at the time one of the
more quirky cocktail bars in Sydney. We'd usually be sipping on some
fine gin based cocktail which tastes like Palma Violets, or a house
spiced rum based Old Fashioned. Or failing that we'd have a pint of
little creatures Pale Ale and some chips and home made dips. Probably
the nicest pumpkin and beetroot dip, separate dips that is.
That was then, about
three years ago.
This time round things
were a bit different. I no longer lived in Australia and am on a
short three week holiday with the family. More time constraints and
all the stuff associated with family holidays. It all added up giving
me less 'me time'.
I caught the bus from
Surry Hills and arrived about an hour and a half before the others.
They were off cruising around and shopping in the quaint Italian
communities in the suburbs of Leichhardt and Haberfield.
I walked the length of
King St to see how it had changed, if at all. It had a little. There
seemed to be far more coffee shops and all kinds of food vendors,
most of which were of the vegetarian or Asian sort. Such a
brilliantly named bed linen shop had shut down, most likely succumbed
to the fate of loss of trade and increased rent and rates. 'Holy
Sheet' was no longer there, a real shame as they had some fine cotton
towels and some of the most luxurious bed sheets you could imagine,
more to the point, the name, what a name.
Out of all the places I
saw, I took note of one pub. I think I remembered 'The Newtown Hotel'
as being a bit of a crap pub. It looked pretty cool now, tap after
tap of craft beers beckoning me in, like a Sirens call luring hordes
of sailors to come crashing into rocks and sinking to their watery
graves. I would not be drowning, at least I hoped I wouldn't any way.
You can drown in less than half a pint of water so the thought was
there and shocking, I wish I'd never thought of such an analogy.
In a state of
befuddlement I slowly drew nearer and nearer to the bar. Eventually I
was in front of the taps. I was about to order a Coopers Pale, a fine
and classic pale that I have drunk gallon loads of, when I saw
something new, something new to me. I ordered a schooner of
'Cricketers Arms, Spearhead Pale Ale', another craft beer coming from
a New South Wales rival state, Victoria. I hate to admit it with a
certain allegiance to NSW, but Victoria seems to be the place really
riding and controlling this craft beer wave sweeping the nation like
a world class surfer. A decent American style Pale Ale brewed by the
Sundance Brewing Company who are now owned and operated by Asahi, the
big boy in Japanese beer.
The alluring maiden
behind the bar poured the beer with a smile just bright enough to
shine through her lacklustre expression. I handed over the cash, took
my beer and seemingly vanished into one of the dimly lit corners of
the pub, camouflaging myself with the background. I had drinking to
do and some writing to catch up with.
A light bodied pale
with a malty backbone and tasting like it had been hopped with punchy
and zingy antipodean hops. With it being an American Style Pale it is
more likely hopped with hops like Cascade and the like but it was
good no matter what. A perfect Pale for an accompaniment to what will
most optimistically be a great afternoon.
I had a few more that
day and some with my lunch which was taken on the upstairs balcony of
the pub. The 'Animal' restaurant, part of the pub but not as
connected as one would think it would be considering it was part of
the same venue.
To help those
struggling to finish their food at the dinner table, I volunteered
the services of my belly. In the time of having my first, then
meeting the family, we practically walked to the boundaries of
Newtown and back again. I think the Sirens call was strong enough to
lure us all back for more.
After filling our
bellies, a plan was devised. My dad and I were to remain in Newtown,
Nina would take my mum and nan to some shops in Bondi Junction. Dom
would ride home on his noisy dry clutch Ducati, then Nina would take
a slight detour and drop him off near or where we were on her way to
Bondi Junction. A perfect plan I thought to myself. The others
obviously agreed as that was the plan that went down.
In the mean time, me
and my pops walked over towards Enmore in search of Young Henry's
Brewery. I had a rough idea of where it was so relaxation came as we
casually strolled down King St and on to Enmore Road. Without being
signposted it was a bit harder to find than one might have liked but
after looking at some marrow plants and sunflowers on the side of the
road, a keg appeared in the periphery. I knew we'd arrived.
The brewery was much
bigger than I expected, going to some in the UK and seeing how much
output they had for such a small capacity, this place was insane.
Larger than any micro brewery I've ever visited, I have no idea of
their full capacity but it must be bloody massive.
Palette loads of malts
all over the place. Kegs stacked high and with ample storage space
for other stuff. They even had one of those forklift pump truck
things.
The 'Real Ale' I'd
tried the other day was impressive enough to tempt me to trying more
of their beers. Further still and probably shameful of me to admit
but in the morning I watched an SBS documentary called 'Hipsters'.
The episode was about entrepreneurs that had been renamed
'Hipsterpreneurs', one place that was featured was the Young Henry's
Brewery in Newtown.
That wasn't the main
reason or reason at all why I wanted to check the place out. I'd been
told by absolutely everybody I'd spoken to that I had to check the
brewery out.
My dad being a fan of
'dark beers' went for the red velvet stout named 'Esther's Ale'. I
think I remember seeing a sign saying it was made using oats, lactose
and raspberry purée. I tried the 'Newtowner', a fairly mellow but
flavour packed lower alcohol Pale. The beers were served in midi
glasses.
If you're unfamiliar
with the beer glass sizes in Sydney, you pretty much get a few to
chose from with an extra one in some really wanky places. The 'Midi'
is 285ml and comes in at a little over half a British pint. A
'Schooner' which is 425ml, smaller than both the 473ml U.S pint and
British pint. The sizes do make sense when you think of all the hot
weather you get here. Nobody likes a 'warm beer', even us Brits. You
can get pints here which are the same as the 562ml British pints.
Then there is this utter ludicrous size that makes no sense and like
I said before, you can only get in really wanky places. The
'Schmidi'. Only seen in a few pretentious and ponsy bars, pubs and
clubs around the CBD or in some busy tourist hot spots. Usually
costing more than a schooner but a bit smaller, roughly half way
between a midi and a schooner at about 375ml.
Correct me if I'm wrong
but that pretty much sums it up for the Sydney beer glasses.
The beer was good,
tasty and fresh direct from the brewery.
When I received word
that my bro was on his way and only round the corner I went out to
meet him, after ordering another round. I know the brewery wasn't
signposted or that obvious but we managed to find it, he walked
directly past.
I asked for the 'Hop
Ale', a hoppier, more boozy Pale, my dad wanted to try the Newtowner.
They also do a 'Natural Lager' and a 'Cloudy Cider' to name a few,
plus many special limited batch brews and even Gin.
When my dad returned
from the bar I was convinced that he'd made a mistake. The beer I had
looked and tasted just like the Newtowner, the one that I'd just
finished. He claimed he'd ordered it correctly, two Hop Ales and one
Newtowner but I could swear, in fact if I had a house I would bet my
house that it was the wrong way round.
It was time to find out
for sure so he went up to the bar and asked the barmaid, like I
thought, it was the wrong way round. Oh well, Newtowner is good
enough to drink again and again so it wasn't really a problem, I only
wanted to try the Hop Ale. I feel that I am beginning to know what
I'm on about when it comes to beer, maybe.
The next round I got my
wish and had a chance to try the Hop Ale, my dad and Dom had the
stout. My dad obviously enjoyed it but Dom wasn't as impressed. I
think the slight tartness from the raspberry purée had enough
influence on the overall flavour that he didn't like it. Personally,
I too am not a fan of fruit in my stouts. I've tried cranberry,
cherry and now raspberry and not enjoyed any of them.
After trying what I
wanted and reading a bit here and there in various beer magazines, I
called for us to move on. We left Young Henry's and ventured a few
more minutes along the Enmore Road.
The 'Duke of Edinburgh'
was the place that would hopefully fulfil our booze requirements
after such a lovely afternoon filling our bellies with food and beer.
Hop Ale is a great beer and Newtowner makes for a fantastic
sessionable Pale, and the fact that they have a beer called 'Real
Ale' makes it even better. It tastes so much like a genuine English
bitter especially when poured from a hand pump.
Another huge selection
of craft beers. So many of the pubs I have visited look plain, crap,
boring and generally a bit shit. But when you walk through the doors
and approach the bar, your eyes are met with fridges full of beer,
taps everywhere and surprisingly knowledgeable staff. I really was
instantly judging this place along with some others on their initial
appearance and that was devilishly deceptive of them. Granted, the
décor and furniture in the Duke of Edinburgh was still a bit shit.
With over two hands worth of tap beers to choose from, I was prepared
to look past its visual flaws.
Given the choice , it
was a bit silly that we all went for 'Elsie the Milk Stout' from
Batch Brewery, another Newtown local I'm told, well, Marrickville to
be precise.
I think that we all
wanted a smooth and creamy stout after the previous 'tart' offering.
We certainly appreciated the soft and slight sweetness to the
'Nitrogenated' Milk stout. My only fault of it is that it is too damn
easy to drink.
On his return from the
loo, Dom told us of a beer he'd been in conversation with the barman
about. On his way to the toilet, he'd noticed a funky looking label
on one of the taps. He asked the barman what it was and he obliged. A
beer from 'Shenanigans Brewing Company' called 'Stunt Beer', I think
that is what it was I may have forgotten it. It is a very special
beer that is rarely ever seen on tap. For some reason the brewery or
brewer decided that they would keg this one. A Porter aged in spiced
rum barrels. I was feeling a bit stuffed from lunch, eating every one
else's food does fill one up and that was more than three hours into
the past.
Unsure of what to do,
Dom procured three midis of this stuff.
I've never experienced
such a beer. I can't say that I'd drink another but not because it
was in any way unpleasant or anything. It was just so rich that I
couldn't have finished a larger one but more than likely would be
able to have more on another occasion. Given the right circumstances
and if I ever see it elsewhere I will try it again. For a relatively
low alcohol beer (well, I don't know if you could call 6.5% low but
for that style it kind of is), it really did taste like a barrel aged
Imperial Stout/Porter. The spiciness of the rum added massively to
the beers richness. It had quite an abrupt hit of booze then mellowed
out a little on the finish. An inspiringly complex beer that makes
you question what is right and what is wrong and what it is that we
can possibly do next.
The bus from Newton
dropped us off at Central Station, or that is where we got off.
Rather than going any further into the city we chose to walk back
through the back end of Surry hills and maybe see some other pubs. We
walked through and along the underpass that takes you from George St,
and spits you out right on the Surry Hills side.
Stopping by a pub to
urinate. We had to expertly and slyly navigate our way through a
mirrored maze, past a gaming room, up and down a few sets of stairs
and into the loo. Never has a prize of urinating been so rewarding.
We repeated the journey and were back on the street. There was a
brief and awkward moment crossing paths with an old gambling man, but
sidestepping and manoeuvring through a door made easy work of him.
There was one pub we
were passing on the way back and ducked in. it had recently received
a big and well overdue mammoth overhaul. I wont go into detail but
the place used to be a brightly shining red lantern on a street of
glowing red bulbs and little red windows.
Inside was booming.
Young trendy types, often labelled as 'Hipsters' spanning the walls.
Glancing visions of the past flashed in and out of my consciousness.
What a change. It actually looked and felt like a completely
different pub.
It certainly wasn't the
KB Hotel I remembered.
A little quick to the
bar, I offered to pay for the round. It was probably my turn so
honoured it. If I'd known it was going to cost me over $30 I may not
have been so forward. I had La Sirene 'Florette' a Belgian style Pale
tasting, looking and feeling very much like a Saison. A light, fruity
flavoursome and refreshing beer, I really liked it. It was a long and
boozy day and so cannot remember what the others drank.
Craft beer truly has
transformed the face of the Sydney booze scene. It seems that soon it
might be quite hard to find the not so good old fashioned boozers.
That might sound a bit harsh and soppy but I'm sure they too will
eventually move with the times and adopt a freer and the more tasty
craft beer approach. Good beer is never a bad thing.
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