Just Three Little Letters....

When a pub phones on a Saturday, wanting beer, and being willing to come & collect it, you know they are keen. The pub in question has a fairly slow beer trade, but recently had a firkin of our new beer, Highwayman IPA. Needless to say it sold very well - and whilst I'd like to think it was our beer that caused this, it seems the magic use of those 'Three Little Letters' - IPA - made the difference. Of course we knew they have that effect, which is why we used them. Once upon a time we were steadfast in not using IPA to describe any of our beers, but after much suggesting from the trade that we do, we gave in.

And so now we have attracted a wider audience it seems. The punter that will only drink an IPA. It matters not who brewed it, just that it calls itself an IPA. No doubt even a stout badged as IPA would sell. Of course, certain big brewers have known for years of this phenomena, and traded very well by using the letters instead of flavour to sell their beer. But the first bit of feedback we get first hand from a drinker? "I really liked all your beers that I have tried, but I don't like IPA, so I'm not going to drink this one". You really can't make it up, can you.


In other news, the annual battle amongst the Buzzards vs All The Other Birds has started. No doubt nesting season creates this seemingly staggering bravery in little birds, but every time one of the Buzzards comes down low, it is attacked. Now a crow I can see is a fair opponent - they are big with a beak that can no doubt remove an eyeball at 50 paces. But a sparrow? Perhaps the Sparrows don't understand odds? Either way, the sight of a Buzzard trying to flee a sparrow - or perhaps even more embarrassingly a pigeon - is quite a shameful sight.

The Buzzard is a large, if graceful, bird, that does not have the turn of speed or cornering ability of your average sparrow. And the sparrow knows it is probably safe. But when the buzzards have got high in the sky, the sparrow buggers off sharpish. And when you see the Buzzard swoop down from upon high, you see why. Suddenly, the speed and agility is all theirs, and very impressive it is to watch, not that you see much as it is done so quickly. High up is where the buzzards rule, gliding the air currents with ease & perfection, gracefully wheeling around all the long day. They do look daft when walking about on the ground looking for a snack though. But I won't tell them that. I'll leave that to those sparrows.

Much more down to earth are the lapwings, who spend their summer on the farm, walking around with their antennae proudly raised on their heads. When they are in flight, they do have a touch of the penguin about them (yes, I know penguins can't fly) in respect of their markings. And now, as I write this, a gaggle of them is picking on, yes, that's right, a buzzard. Still, if the buzzards do for the barn owls again I might just join in. At the least the pied wagtails in the barn opposite seem to getting with nesting, albeit somewhat noisily.

Of course whilst all this happening around us, beer is being brewed, fermented and sold on. Now that is what I call 'Beer From The Real Country'. What say you, my good marketing folk of Greene King Ruddles?