Hogmanay Hootenanny

Edinburgh, Glasgow and Aberdeen for New Year’s

Beer Travels January 25, 2007
Written by MartinT

Montreal, CANADA -

Edinburgh, Glasgow and Aberdeen for New Year’s

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The Halfway House, at 24 Fleshmarket Close

Walking down the stone staircase of Fleshmarket Close, I felt like I was going down the creaking rungs of a makeshift ladder leading to a dank, secret basement cellar. You know, that special place where your grandfather hid antiquated tools and random documents you used to peruse through in search of what, you didn’t exactly know. But every time you got down there, you felt like you were privileged to know about this hideout and had to bring a few worried friends to your comfy depths. That’s how I felt when I came back to the Halfway House, a mere ten days after crossing its concealed threshold in one of Edinburgh’s narrow vertical alleys that link the higher Old Town to the New Town. The living room size of the only room is definitely one of its draws for me. Its oblique layout as well, making sure each tiny table (there are less than ten) is set in a snug cranny. Silence and respectful chatter are awkwardly broken sometimes by blaring jukebox selections, but that feeling of belonging inevitably returns soon after. The landlord mans the pumps (four of them offering local Scottish ales and British ones as well), and his wife is in charge of the kitchen.

On our first visit, we had a very good (and reasonably priced) game pie and equally delicious lamb in herb sauce. Of the 4 cask ales available, Inveralmond’s Ossian shone the brightest with its crunchy cereals pushing into the citrusy and wooden hop flavors and bitterness. The second time around, Cairngorm’s Black Gold was the star of the show with its chewy dates and chocolate building a marvelously huggable body. A fine stout indeed. I learned those two beers just happened to have won CAMRA’s “Champion Beer of Scotland” in recent years, so I guess my tastes are in line with those of the deciding panel (you decide if that is a frightening thought). Whether it’s lively or silent, the Halfway House sure made a memorable impression on this beer traveler.

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Cultural Interlude

-I now know what an old-fashioned witch hunt must have felt like. Well, kind of. This torchlight procession in the streets of Edinburgh and up Calton Hill was too sanctimonious and peaceful, but seeing thousands of people walking in line towards the burning site sure was an awesome sight. Except we only burned a wooden ship replica and a giant wicker(?) bear. I still don’t know why. Memories of flying ashes and dripping hot wax will always decorate this rainy windstorm memory.

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-The Hogmanay version of Frogger: watch a few drunken asses try to cross a busy street and bet on who’s going to get hit first. Bloody entertaining.

-Scottish beef is really scrumptious.

The Guildford Arms, at 1 West Register Street

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Whereas the Halfway House is cozy, unpretentious and familiar, the Guildford Arms is classy and formal. How it manages to stray from attracting the uppity, I cannot grasp (beer has this commoner’s appeal I guess?), but with their constantly changing 8 guest casks and other 12 taps (of mostly macro fizz), they most likely have a beer to please every patron. My first visit was rewarded with a few succulent libations, of which Northumberland’s Santa’s Surprise was most delightful with its crafty equilibrium of whipped honey maltiness and leafy, herbal hops. A complex and eminently drinkable bitter. The second visit was won by another splendidly honest bitter, a Scottish one this time, from a brewpub in the vicinity of Glasgow: Houston Brewery. This bitter, called Texas, was ripe with leafy, citrusy hops subtleties in a round body built by caramel maltiness. A textbook example I thought, and moreover one which would make very satisfying sessions. The food here is more expensive than what you’d find at the Halfway House (for example), but the haggis in whisky sauce I had was very much worth it. By the way, whoever started the rumour that haggis is foul devil’s food just because it’s made from sheep’s entrails is a little too sensitive. It is actually very flavorful, spicy, and satisfying for such a plucky dish, a far cry from the French’s excremental andouillette, if you ask me. If you are ever in Edinburgh, there is a very good chance that the Guildford Arms will give you the most interesting beer selection in town.

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Cloister’s Bar, at 26 Brougham St.

Situated in the Tollcross neighborhood of Edinburgh (which happened to be where our friends lived), this very attractive pub offers 9 cask ales to the wandering beer seeker. It’s a 25-minute walk from downtown, but the place is definitely worth it, methinks. Although standards of excellence weren’t achieved by any of the 3 beers I had that night (Cairngorm’s Trade Winds and Moles’ Landlord’s Choice were still fine pints), the amicable bartends, the amusing selection, and very pleasing décor is sure to have me back the next time I can tread nearby. They serve pub meals from 12 to 6pm, and I can vouch for their being well-made and very filling.

Cultural Windows

-Hogmanay festivities included a traditional Ceilidh band which played to a rather sizeable crowd on downtown George Street. Seeing thousands of people line dancing in the street is somehow unsettling.

-Do Scottish people underdress to look cool or do they have thicker skin? It was near 0 degrees Celsius and many were prancing about in T-Shirts!!

-Scottish bravado was severely damaged when authorities cancelled the long-awaited Hogmanay party because it was too windy. Granted, 80 mph winds aren’t exactly pleasant, and people could’ve gotten hurt with all the kiosks and stages downtown, but it’s not like revellers came here to have a “safe and jolly” shindig. There were plenty of drunken bodies lying on the sidewalk on the way back home to prove that.

The Bow Bar, at 80 West Bow

This classic boozer is located close to the Grassmarket on West Bow Street, which becomes Victoria Street once it gets near the Royal Mile. No frills here (unless the old brewery paraphernalia is your thing), just fine beer from the UK, and the obligatory macro fizz, of course. Oddly enough though, they don’t pump the beer here like you see everywhere else in town, but rather use air founts to make the precious liquid flow. Everything tasted like any other real ale I had had on the trip here, so the result is equivalent to the hand pump it seems. The first foray into the Bow Bar didn’t provide memorable pints, although Ossett’s and Mauldon’s Bah Humbug namesakes were perfectly fine pints. The second time around, Dark Star’s Old Ale won hands down, and became my best of trip with its rich blackberry pie, toasted crust, and impressive leafy hop apport all in a truly seductive body which would put many barley wines to shame (and it’s only 4% abv!). There’s nothing special about hanging out at The Bow Bar other than its attractive UK microbrewed ale selection, but then again if you’re reading this that’s most likely enough to make you go anytime you feel like exploring fine ales.

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Ghost Town #1: Glasgow

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We only had one afternoon to spend in Glasgow, and it happened to be January 1st. As you can imagine from the Hogmanay parties: ghost town the following day. Nothing to visit here in this empty and locked up city, so what is there better to do than keep celebrating? A few renowned craft beer bars were open, and 2 Scottish Ratebeerians were in town (surely still recovering from their own New Year’s parties), so we headed out to meet them at the Bon Accord, near a highway leading into town. Sure enough, both Tom and Gareth were there, and proceeded to showering me and my companions with samples of ale and whisky. Party mode was still on, great! Two ales stood out, Kelburn’s Goldihops, which was a fine pint of honeyed cereal spiced with citrusy hops, and Fyne Ales 5.5 was a juicy, fruity caramel vehicle carrying loads of entertaining wooden and citrusy hops. Both appeasing Scottish hop soldiers. The place reminded me of Bow Bar in its setup and simplicity, although the added back room made it easier to find a place to be comfortable. Gareth had to leave for a family party (now, what kind of values are these?), and we had to find food somewhere as we were starving and the Bon Accord’s kitchen was closed for the day. Luckily, Tom was with us and (after generously paying for a cab ride to avoid the rain) was able to walk us to a beer bar whose cook had actually shown up that day. Tennent’s Bar, which happened to be within striking distance of The Three Judges, our “must” visit according to our local hosts. Honest pub food was gluttonously downed at Tennent’s (I could’ve eaten unspiced sheep’s innards) and a cask of Broughton’s Old Jock proved to be in brilliant form, as it displayed judicious black grapes roaming amongst luscious caramel, all leading to a delicate vinous finish. Tom too was impressed by its fine condition. Finally, satiated, we headed to The Three Judges, which boasted a fantastic real ale menu that day (which is not surprising, I’m told), over which Durham’s Temptation, a 10% abv imperial stout, throned proudly. Time was running out on us, as we had “wasted” time with that nasty food eating habit of ours, so Temptation had to be our only sample. But it did not disappoint. Endless segues of vanilla, chocolate, molasses, and grapey fruitiness, like the wagons of a malt train, took us to giddy satisfaction. Of course, Tom refused to let us pay for anything, but thankfully Ron (the passionate and personable landlord) let me win one round. With its great selection, this dark but welcoming boozer of a bar will hopefully be my first stop next time I’m in Glasgow.

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Ghost Town #2: Aberdeen

Apparently, the Scottish celebrate the New Year for more than a couple days as the streets of Aberdeen (and its suburbs) were vacant on this January 2nd. Not a big problem though, since we were mostly heading for Dunnottar Castle, about 25 kilometers south of Aberdeen, near the seaside town of Stonehaven. The muddy, slippery path leading to the castle was challenging, but the heavenly location of the castle was more than rewarding. Cromwell truly had no chance. A roll of film later, we sought sustenance in Stonehaven’s well-regarded Ship Inn, but were rebuffed. No food left on the menu, and no real ales pouring from the 2 pumps! Hogmanay casualties, no doubt. More insight on the importance of Hogmanay to the Scottish for us. A sign of things to come as well.

The fireplace was crackling at The Prince of Wales, Aberdeen’s premium beer bar. Lots of wood, well-organized rooms, a long bar, the place exuded warmth on this rainy winter evening. Lots of beer paraphernalia to gaze upon, of course. The selection was amazingly similar to Bon Accord’s yesterday, so we started with the only 3 beers unknown to us, the house Prince of Wales Ale, brewed by Inveralmond, Isle of Skye’s Black Cuillin, and Everard’s Tiger. The Prince of Wales ale was astonishingly similar to Inveralmond’s Ossian with its fine cereal punch and citrusy hoppiness, which was worth a few chin scratches. Moving on, while the Tiger had no teeth left whatsoever, the Black Cuillin bit back, but with an unexpected flavor profile. Black grape vinosity and roastiness were misled by soaring tartness. This near-sourness didn’t totally dislike the abundant fruitiness, but the worry seed was planted. A few days later, a bottle of Black Cuillin didn’t contain sourness. Maybe the cellar man was still recovering, like most of Aberdeen apparently, from delirious Hogmanay hootenannies.

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Dark Star’s Old Ale won hands down, and became my best of trip with its rich blackberry pie, toasted crust, and impressive leafy hop apport all in a truly seductive body which would put many barley wines to shame

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