THE CONSUMMATE eulogy to the English pub remains George Orwell’s 1946 essay, The Moon Under The Water. No, his fictitious hostelry was thankfully nothing like the cavernous converted cinema of that name run by JD Wetherspoon on Deansgate.
Where it does have the advantage is the sheer beer nous
Orwell’s ideal was a multi-room Victorian gem with all the original "solidly ugly" features intact, mirrors, cast-iron fireplaces, tobacco-stained ceilings, middle-aged barmaids who know each customer by name. Oh and, of course, in the Moon Under Water “it is always quiet enough to talk”.
Mind, you were often talking to Old Ned the stewed regular at the bar who, when asked by the glowering landlord his verdict on the stale ale you’d sent back, would opine: “A nice drop, that.” Mild, bitter, mixed, slops, whatever it was.
It all seems as distant as the Paleolithic Era as I sit at the bar in the booming (in both senses) Cafe Beermoth, a powerful newcomer in Manchester’s craft beer pantheon.
I’m reminded of ‘real pubs’ by my drinking mate who laments the absence here of a good old English session bitter, the likes of Thwaites Original or Black Sheep, amid the ranks of groundbreaking tipples we are presented with. He grimaces as he sips The Kernel Sour Raspberry and the Wild Beer Squashed Grape, palate challengers both, and laments the fact that the De Dolle Export Stout weighs in at 9% ABV and costs £6.40 a half, though he does actually like this one.
Me, I’m overcome by the glorious variety of what’s on offer at prices substantially lower than at rival establishments such as Port Street Beer House. A pint of lemon zesty Hop Tzarina (geek tip: late hopped with Chinook) from the hop-centric Mallinson brewster sisters of Huddersfield cost £2.95 and stalwart IPA Thornbridge Jaipur just £3.70, that compared with nearly a fiver in the Victoria Station bar.
The beers are dispensed from seven handpumps and ten keg beer lines along the long bar with the cellar visible behind through plate glass. We did work our way along (they handily do thirds for tasting) but there’s little point in cataloguing all the beautifully kept brews. They will have changed by the time you read this. The aim is obviously to showcase the best of contemporary British ales, often brimming with US and Kiwi hops, of course, while not neglecting the eclectic offerings from Europe and beyond. Step forward the likes of De Dolle, ‘The Mad Brewers’ cult micro from West Flanders.
Cafe Beermoth is a logical expansion for Scott, Simon and Jeremy, whose Beermoth bottle shop in Tib Street scooped Manchester Food and Drink Awards retailer of the year shortly after it opened in 2013.
That was a cosy Aladdin’s Cave for hopheads to congregate. Cafe Beermoth is quite different, straying outside of the Northern Quarter comfort zone. Open from 8am and serving coffee and snacks all-day Mitteleuropa style, it’s aiming for a wider clientele.
First impression was of a behemoth of a bar (to adapt their own pun). Softer than the industrial chic of the Dockyard pubs in Media City and Spinningfields Left Bank or the brutalist bunker that houses the Piccadilly Tap, definitely comfier than the chainlike Brewdog Bar in Peter Street, it probably needs time to settle in as a drinking destination. We found it over-loud and bustling, but then everywhere can be like that in the run-up to Christmas.
Certainly, the fit-out lacks the immediate appeal of fellow newcomers Albert’s Schloss and Cottonopolis, both dealing with bigger spaces in a quirkier way. Where it does have the advantage is the sheer beer nous. I’ll challenge you to find a better place to toast the brave new world of ale with likeminded souls. I feel an essay coming on.
Cafe Beermoth, 40 Spring Gardens, Manchester M2 1EN - 0161 835 2049
