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CASK ALE WHISPERER

Blog by Nigel Walsh

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It May be Mild

My dad used to call it wallop.

Whenever he would “go out for a pint of wallop” we knew where we would find him, if we needed to.

He would be down the Corner Pin (officially The Britannia) with his mates, supping down the Shepherd Neame dark mild; yep, they all wore their cloth caps, which they referred to as titfers (rhyming slang: Tit-for-Tats).

One of just two remaining Sheps pubs in Strood in the early seventies, the other being the physically nearby but socially remote Swamp (officially The Cricketers), both of which served Sheps mild and ordinary bitter on handpump.

My dad and his mates wouldn’t be seen dead in the Swamp; that pub was for the young ‘uns, was too noisy, too sporty (darts, cards and even bat and trap in the garden), and had a bit of a reputation, albeit a very distant one.

They preferred the peace and quiet of the Corner Pin where they could all hear and be heard by each other.

Nobody drank the mild in the Swamp, that was more of a bitter place, or worse, a rum and coke place.

Everybody drank the mild in the Corner Pin; you were taking your chances with the old “Shepherd Scream” in the morning, if you went for the bitter, even if you mixed it with the mild.

I drank the mild in the Corner Pin on those rare occasions when I would venture in, but also drank it all the time in the Railway Tavern (no alias) in the village of (Lower) Higham; I also drank both bitters, narfa-narfs, and the stock ale when it appeared on the bar.

The Railway was another Sheps pub, and it was the only one that I could persuade my mates to go into on a regular basis, some of them would even join me in drinking their impeccably kept cask ales, sometimes.

We used to meet up there after work, two of us coming down from London by train and the other two driving out from Strood; Higham station was right across the road, hence the pub name.

It was a lively place, usually very busy with all manner of patronage, which is surprising considering its location at the low end of the village, bordering on the Cliffe Marshes.

The beers were great and the payouts from the fruit machine were frequent and generous.

The Sheps dark mild was especially well conditioned, more of a deep reddish brown than an opaque black, thin scuzzy head (we are deep in no-sparkler country here), thin bodied but quite tasty all by itself, and even better when blended with the Sheps ordinary bitter, regulating the intense bitterness and adding notes of sweet hazelnut.

Was it a classic mild?

Probably not, but it was about as good as you could expect in the South.

Unlike the effort coming from the likes of Youngs; their Best Malt Ale was at best unobtrusive and at worst insipid, with the overall taste experience being caramel rather than malt.

The dark milds from Courage (London) and Charrington, were mostly harmless but not particularly inspiring either.

Fullers Hock wasn’t a bad drop though, if you could actually track some down.

I got mine in the Red Lion (aka the Goldfish Bowl) in Acton, a regular hangout in west London where I would go to meet college friends who were working at Heathrow.

It was a funny old place with a tree, a full-grown tree, poking up through the floor and up into the ceiling in the corner of the bar, and being a Fullers pub it had the full range (at that time) of Pride, ESB and Hock on cask.

The Hock was a good choice whenever I wasn’t up for a few pints of ESB; darker and more malty than the Sheps and with a fuller (ouch!) body and more rounded mouthfeel, it wasn’t a mild that cried out to be blended.

I had first tasted the Fuller’s Hock at the 1978 Great British Beer Festival in the Alexandra Palace, alongside Shipstone’s dark mild from Nottingham, and three light milds, from Burtonwood, Rayment, and Theakston.

The Rayment was their AK, which was labelled and recognized as a pale mild back in the late seventies, but has since been considered to be more of a light bitter; it tasted pretty mild to me, as did the McMullen AK which I could get my hands on in a couple of outlets in North London at the time.

I remember the other two light milds as standing out from the crowd of bitters at the GBBF; while they had some hoppy characteristics, they were so much more refreshing.

I was also very impressed with the Shipstone’s dark mild, it was my first taste of a “northern” dark mild and it was just a different beast than the stuff that I was used to; bigger body, earthy, malty, and a little roasty, but very well balanced overall.

I never did get to try the legendary Bank’s dark mild.

So what is a mild anyway?

I knew it as something that was lower in alcohol than a bitter (3.2% vs 3.8%), which wasn’t bitter like, well, a bitter, and was usually a very dark brown, so brown that if you decided to bottle it, you would call it a brown ale.

Oh, and it usually tasted like caramel or hazelnuts, or caramel and hazelnuts.

Unless it was a light mild, which apparently existed north of London and were designated as AK.

Pretty close, eh?

Not even.

The most succinct history of this beer ale beverage that we call mild can be found courtesy of beer historian Ron Pattinson, in his long-running “Shut Up About Barclay Perkins” blog.

Highly recommended reading.

While over at “Zythophile” Martyn Cornell will straighten you out about the color of mild, and has some thoughts and second thoughts about AK designated beers.

Don’t stop at the ends of the articles, the comments are just as illuminating.

Now we know what a mild is, and isn’t, let’s move along.

And that was pretty much it, for me and milds in the last millennium.

The nearest that the States could manage were the imported bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale, which is not one of the finest examples of “mild in a bottle”.

And then one day around eleven years ago, I was sat at the bar in Bluejacket Brewery in DC, and was offered a pour straight from the conditioning tank of a new as yet unnamed dark brew that was about to go on one of the handpumps.

It was a deep opaque brown/black that when held up to the light showed an internal garnet glow; the nose and taste was everything that you could expect from a “northern” dark mild, there was a gentle sweet maltiness, a gentle roastiness, and a gentle earthy bitterness.

The body was quite light; this was no stout or porter.

It was 4.9% and would officially be labelled as an English brown ale.

It entered production with the name Coaltown.

Over time, the ABV was reduced to 3.8%, the color and body were lightened a little, and it was reclassified as a dark mild.

It was my go-to beer for many years, and it was the first mild that I could, and did on many occasions, have a session with.

The mild scene in the US has continued to pick up, albeit incrementally, with a dark and sometimes a light mild in the portfolio of many breweries, at least here in the Northeast, particularly in those breweries that have an active cask program.

At last count, I reckon that I have personally had over eighty different mild or mild variants from almost sixty different breweries.

There are some incredible milds out there, and not just dark ones.

To name but a few that have been found in our part of the world:

  • Wild East Temperance Dark Mild (3.5% – 4%)
  • Wild East Prudence Light Mild (3.8%)
  • Strong Rope A Mild Journey Dark Mild (4.7%)
  • Fifth Hammer Richard Neverdick Dark Mild (3.8%)
  • Threes Theater of the Absurd Dark Mild (3.1%)
  • Old Glenham XXXX Dark Mild (5%)
  • Old Glenham Black Country Dark Mild (3.8%)
  • Wayward Lane Habitude Dark Mild (4.2%)
  • Seneca Lake Archies Dark Mild (3.8%)
  • OEC Dapple Dark Mild (4.2%)
  • Fox Farm Tiddly Dark Mild (3.8%)
  • Nod Hill Eynsham Dark Mild (3.5%)
  • Odd Bird Mome Rath Rye Mild (4.5%)

What they all have in common, is that they will usually be found on cask, and maybe occasionally on Nitro, or even side-pull (Wild East, really?).

I hear that things are still not so robust in the UK; the dwindling production of milds that started in the sixties, appears to have continued unabated despite the best efforts of CAMRA, which started the whole May Mild Month promotion over thirty years ago to try to reverse the trend.

I guess that they can claim some success as mild is still with us, but it appears that the trend will not reverse until we all start wearing our flat caps again.

Times and tastes have irreparably changed, and it is ironic that the very thing that has allowed milds to “flourish” in the US, namely the rise of craft breweries, is probably one of the major causes of the continued decline in sales and interest in the old country.

Over here, Mild in May is a promotional effort.

Over there, it is a thin tenuous lifeline.

They are all gone now.

My dad passed before I even moved to the States.

The Britannia (Corner Pin) ceased to be a pub in the mid-aughts and is now an Indian restaurant.

I don’t know when we lost the Cricketers (Swamp), but it was renamed as The Alma at some point (I bet it was still referred to locally as the Swamp), and now appears to be a hair salon.

The Railway Tavern is a private residence.

And even the Red Lion in London is not the same, it is now a Spoonies and has officially morphed into the Red Lion and Pineapple; no sign of the tree either.

Shepherd Neame does not even brew a mild these days.

Many UK breweries, traditional and craft, no longer brew a mild.

Although two or three UK milds (out of fifty beers) have managed to make it over here to NERAX each of the last three years.

We almost completely lost mild as a style, particularly in the UK.

Fortunately, we do seem to have a new-found appreciation for it in the United States.

So folks, get out there and try some mild, and I am not just talking to the punters on this side of the pond.

But if you do happen to be anywhere close to NYC, Prudence should be coming back into the cask rotation at Wild East shortly, and you can (hopefully) always find the Old Glenham Black Country Mild on at JWF (if I don’t get there first).

Both are brilliant beers.

The Wild East Prudence is reminiscent of Theakston’s light mild, and the Old Glenham Black Country Mild is as close as you are going to get to Bank’s dark mild these days.

And if you cannot make it soon, remember folks that Mild is not just for May.

Scorecard w/e 5/13/25

In the past week the Cask Whisperer has enjoyed the following casks:

Upcoming Cask Events (Festivals and Otherwise)

5/17/25: Das Bock! @ Plattduetsche Biergarten, Franklin Square NY

5/24/25: New York State British Real Ale Festival @ Seneca Lake Brewing, Rock Stream NY

6/7/25: Log Jammin’ V @ Human Robot Beer, Philadelphia PA

Upcoming Random NYC Casks

  • Not seeing anything out there this week so far.

NYC Cask Venues

Known Operational/Active Beer Engines

  • Jones Wood Foundry (x2)
  • Fifth Hammer
  • Wild East
  • The Shakespeare (x3)
  • Cask Bar & Kitchen
  • Drop-off Service

Occasional Pins (worth a follow on Instagram)

  • Strong Rope
  • KCBC
  • Tørst
  • Blind Tiger Ale House
  • Threes Brewing
  • Brouwerij Lane (First Friday Firkins)
  • The Owl Farm

Cask Venues Reachable from NYC by MTA Train

Metro-North Hudson Line

  • Draught Industries, Beacon NY (one handpump, Old Glenham beer range).
  • Coopers, Beacon NY (one handpump, Old Glenham beer range).
  • Happy Valley Arcade Bar, Beacon NY (one handpump, Old Glenham beer range).

Metro-North Harlem Line

  • The Ambleside Pub, Mt. Kisco NY (four handpumps, Old Glenham beer range).

Metro-North New Haven Line

  • Marlowe Artisanal Ales, Mamaroneck NY (one handpump tapped Thursdays, Marlowe beer range)
  • Nod Hill Brewing, Ridgefield CT (two handpumps, Nod Hill beer range).
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