Saturday, March 8, 2008

Make Mine a Mackeson


Ena: Line 'em up Jack Walker and look sharp about it. Me and the girls are off down the Mission on the pull.

Martha: I do hope you don't get like last week, Ena.

Ena: What do you mean, Martha Longhurst?

Martha: You were running down Rosamund Street waving yer draws at Leonard Swindley.

Minnie: Oooh, Ena.

Jack: What's it to be then? Tequila slammers all round?

Ena: Milk stout, as well you know, Jack Walker.

Minnie: Ooh, Ena.


It's an enduring image for anyone of a certain age and for most, probably the only exposure they ever had to this near mythical drink. I remember asking my parents what a milk stout was but as neither of them have ever been drinkers there was never an answer forthcoming except for "Mackeson" . In the event, I forgot to find out for myself as other bits of growing up got in the way.

Of course, I should have known all about Mackeson because I grew up just south of Ashford in Kent, not too far from the seaside resort of Hythe and that was where the beer was first brewed in 1907 from an original recipe said to have been in the Mackeson family since the early 19th century, although other sources suggest they purchased the patent to the recipe. If anyone knows for sure, I'd like to know. Mackeson was one of the big local brewers in Kent until they disappeared into Whitbread, although Mackeson stout was brewed in Hythe until around the end of the 50s, maybe even a little bit later. During that time it became a very popular national drink.

Since then it's been shunted around the country, even more so since Whitbread flogged its brewing operation off to the InBev brewing behemoth in order to concentrate on making accountants happy. Youngs brewed it at the Ram for a while until the joint venture with Charles Wells moved Youngs brewing up to Bedford. I've lost track of it now. Before I actually found a sample of it to check, I contacted InBev to ask whether it was still one of theirs because I could see nothing about it on their website. They said it was but it's pretty obvious it's not yellow or fizzy enough to be featured in their advertising. I contacted Wells and Youngs to ask whether they were brewing it for InBev but as yet I've had no reply. When I actually managed to get a four pack of cans from Tesco they confirmed the InBev link but there was no other clue. I'll update this when I find out.

Otherwise the can bears much the same design as the original bottles did; the milk churn with the red "Original & Genuine" flash across it. No hint of "milk" though. Milk stout is so called because it's brewed with lactose, a sugar commonly found in milk. It remains unfermented, giving the beer a distinct complexity to its flavour, not sweet as is often claimed but a pleasant roundness. Mackeson lost the "milk" appellation after the war when twitchy yet remarkably prescient, considering some of the knee-jerk litigiousness that currently abounds, legislators decided it couldn't claim to involve milk when really it didn't. I don't think anyone took any notice. It's often called a sweet stout instead to distinguish it from the common stouts but sweet is a bit of a misnomer as it isn't. Stories also abound regarding Mackeson's supposed health-giving characteristics and the association with Weatherfield's old redoubtables is probably down to it having being prescribed to nursing mothers in some hospitals. It's also rumoured to have been offered as a post blood donation restorative on account of its high iron content. This is of no particular surprise, men have long known of the rehabilitative properties of beer.

It's not a strong drink by any stretch of the imagination. 3% abv although there are stronger versions of around 4.5% brewed abroad for the US and especially the West Indian market where it's touted as a young man's drink. Pour it out and it develops a thick coffee coloured foamy head but nothing like a Guinness head. It has a much more discernible smell to my nose than Guinness, too. Burnt toast, malt and a hint of chocolate, warm and friendly. In fact it reminds me of the malt beer you get in Denmark by the crate which is a non-alcoholic drink really aimed at children. It's fine chilled and because of its low alcohol content makes a fine summer drink when cold. I'm not a lover of Guinness, I can't see its attraction to be honest, but I'd have one of these any time.

It's tasty, a nice drink that's been forgotten because it doesn't immediately fit in with InBev's trendy demographic. You can't stuff a wedge of lime in the neck (although you could try a pickled egg), it's not yellow and it's not a drink to swill from a bottle (can you get bottles? I could only get a four pack of 330 ml cans). Moreover, binge on Mackeson and you won't need to be scraped off the pavement afterwards but you'll probably be crapping anvils for a week. They've decided it's not a young person's drink and that's more fool them. I can well imagine it becoming a casualty of some brand stocktaking unless somebody realises what a little masterpiece it really is. Go out and find some before it's too late.



5 comments:

Sharon J said...

I can remember the old girls up the club drinking stout. Can't say I've seen anybody drink it for years now, though.

Broke But Still Drinking said...

Maybe they should drink free beer.

Anonymous said...

Makeson is well remembered but I'm sure there was another sweet or milk stout around in the fifties . Anyone have any ideas. Makeson was always recommended for newly nursing mothers .

gordon Brown (no! not that one .)

Anonymous said...

tates of a pub ashtray

Eric Wilkens said...

Wow that beer was first brewed in 1907. I didn't know milk stouts have been around that long.

https://ericmwilkens.blogspot.com/