The Plan

Travel light, explore, find, move on.

The world does not need more, it needs different.

It needs beers that constantly change, but where the old favourites can return occasionally.

The bigger the company the less flexible, the more you carry, the less you can explore.

Being small, not trapped by overheads, banks and shareholders means not being trapped in the cycle of safe beer; where no risks are allowed, because bills need paying, no overheads, no burdens and an eye firmly on the next summit.

And if the beers I produce, are loved and loathed in equal measure, then good. It means that I produced something, a thing of enough character to trigger opinion. To produce something neither liked nor disliked, that is not for me.

The Brewery

Not a microbrewery, not even a nano-brewery. Fifty litres per time and small through choice, because I don't believe people only want one beer day after day, time after time, rather I think there is a place for small runs of intriguing beer experiments, things that take my fancy, brewing that makes me happy.

Breweries do produce specials, but shouldn't everything be special? I am constantly finding new styles, new stories to tell, new ways of doing things or old ways rediscovered.

All of which make me want to rush into the workshop and create, but enthusiasm is for sharing, beer is social, to be enjoyed as part of a tribe.

Marginalia

Over the years in a huge wave of bland beer, the different, the complex, the intriguing has been pushed aside into the margins.

It is possible to find beers that have a story, that have been unfairly brushed aside and marginalised. I don't want to wade through countless, faceless, tasteless clones of the same threadbare styles, desperately trying to find one that stands out, like a pig snuffling for truffles in the undergrowth.

Instead I am heading for the sunlit uplands, where the entire history of beer awaits.

This is not about buzzwords, bandwagons and experimentation for the sake of it, it is about freedom and the enjoyment that comes with exploration.

Whistling

Whistling is important.

Making beer is about the only time I whistle in the garage.

But you should whistle, when making it, opening it or on your way to the pub.

Beer, music they are not stand alone experiences, which is why I carefully select the music I play when brewing.

California Common? Neil Young. JalapeƱo and Cucumber Saison? Mariachi.

Some brewers will think me mad, but I fail to see how else you can infuse the spirit of the music into the beer.

And what would happen if I made a German Pilsner without Kraftwerk's Trans Europe Express at full blast?

I don't know, I've not tried it.

Quantity has a quality all of its own

In the 1800's each pub was its own unique brewery, pint parlours where handfuls of drinker were served in the downstairs room of a house. Attention to detail was the key, now often lost in the rush to be ever bigger.

So whilst other brewers dream of becoming Heineken, I dream of becoming Fred Astaire, so I give fair warning;

"There may be trouble ahead,
but while there's moonlight and music,
and love and romance,
let face the music and dance."