Hop, Clip, & Pump

Over the past decade, the rise of the micropub has been one of the most interesting developments in British drinking culture. Small, independent, and often rooted in a love of real ale, micropubs promised a return to something more traditional: conversation-led spaces, quality beer, and a sense of community. And yet, many are disappearing almost as quickly as they arrive. Stories of venues lasting only a few months, or barely making it to a year, are becoming increasingly common. This isn’t simply bad luck. It reflects deeper structural challenges within the model itself. The Illusion of Simplicity At first glance, micropubs appear to be a low-risk venture. They are small, often minimally staffed, and usually operate with a stripped-back offering. No kitchen, limited stock, and a focus on cask ale create the impression of a manageable, even modest business. But this simplicity is deceptive. A smaller venue means fewer customers at any one time. Without food or additional revenue ...

Some beers introduce themselves politely… and then there are beers like Clarky Cat,  a creation that feels less like a drink and more like a character wandering in from some surreal, hop-scented dream. Brewed by the ever-imaginative Pomona Island Brew Co. , Clarky Cat is exactly what you’d expect from a brewery that thrives on the strange, the playful, and the slightly unhinged. The name alone suggests mischief. The beer delivers on it. First Impressions: A Beer with Personality Guaranteed not to make you feel like a fortnight in a bad balloon or like a piano dentist, and you certainly won’t end up in a quack candle. It’s not a dog, it’s a drink. Cat? No drink. Citra, Strata, and Mosaic double dry-hopped pale. Clarky Cat arrives in the glass with a soft haze, glowing somewhere between pale gold and sunlit orange. It’s the kind of beer that looks alive, gently clouded, with a pillowy head that seems to hover rather than settle. There’s an immediate sense that this isn’t going to ...

Sour beers are among the most complex and fascinating styles in modern brewing, unlike standard ales and lagers, which rely on clean, controlled fermentation. Sours embrace acidity, wild microbes, and time to create their signature tartness. At their core, sour beers are defined by one thing:  acid production , usually driven by bacteria or wild yeast. But how brewers get there varies widely, from quick, controlled methods to years-long ageing processes. The Science of Sourness To understand sour beer, it helps to begin with what actually creates the sour taste. The defining sharpness comes primarily from lactic acid, which is produced by bacteria such as Lactobacillus , known for giving a clean, yoghurt-like tang, and Pediococcus , which can contribute deeper, sometimes funkier acidity. In more traditional brewing, wild yeast such as Brettanomyces also plays a role, adding earthy, fruity, or even slightly 'wild' characteristics alongside the sourness. This is a fundamen...

In the ever-evolving world of craft beer, few breweries have pushed boundaries quite like Vault City Brewing . Known for their unapologetically bold approach to sour beer, Vault City have carved out a reputation for intensity, innovation, and flavour-first brewing. Their Triple Fruited Mango is a perfect embodiment of that ethos, rich, vibrant, and unapologetically indulgent. First Impressions: A Glass Full of Sunshine From the moment it hits the glass, this is no ordinary beer. Coming in at a recently lowered 4.8% ABV, Triple Fruited Mango pours with a deep, glowing orange hue , bordering on opaque. With a texture that looks almost smoothie-like,  there’s a density here, something substantial, that immediately signals this is going to be a different kind of drinking experience. The head is minimal, fleeting, and secondary to the main event: fruit. Aroma: Pure Mango Saturation Before even taking a sip, the aroma makes its presence known. This is mango in high definition :...

There’s something immediately inviting about a well-crafted session Indian pale ale (SIPA) that promises flavour without fatigue. Drift Theory , from Castle Rock Brewery , fits neatly into that space, delivering a contemporary hop profile with an easy-drinking edge. First Impressions In the glass, Drift Theory presents as a light golden ale , bright and inviting with a soft, delicate head. It looks exactly how a modern session pale should: clean, fresh, and ready to drink. From the first pour, there’s a noticeable lift of aroma, hinting at the hop-forward experience to come. Aroma: Subtle Complexity The nose is where things begin to get interesting. Thanks to the pairing of Citra and Vista hops , the aroma carries: A gentle mango sweetness Light strawberry notes A soft tropical lift It’s not overpowering, but it’s expressive enough to draw you in, suggesting a layered yet approachable pint. Flavour Profile: Citrus Meets Tropical On the palate, Citra takes the lead...

There’s a particular rhythm to micropubs, quieter than the traditional boozer, but somehow more intense. Less noise, more conversation. Fewer distractions, more focus. And at Original Gravity, in Brampton, Chesterfield, that rhythm becomes something else entirely, a kind of apprenticeship in beer. Working behind that bar wasn’t just about pulling pints. It was about learning a language I hadn’t fully spoken before. From Cask Comfort to Craft Curiosity I came into the job with a solid grounding in real ale. Cask was familiar, reliable, nuanced, and rooted in tradition. You learn to read it instinctively, condition, clarity, how it’s pouring, how it’s sitting in the glass. But then there was the fridge . Rows of cans, each one louder than the last. Bright designs, bold claims, unfamiliar styles. Names that sounded more like band titles than beers. And behind the bar, the keg lines, clean, cold, pressurised, and carrying beers that behaved very differently from cask. This was craf...