Late this March will see the opening of Brighton’s first specialist beer shop, Bison Beer Crafthouse, on East Street. The shop, situated just off the seafront, will be offering an eclectic range of beers with over 300 different varieties sourced from around the world.
Founders Nick Vardy and Jack Cregan want to enable Brighton beer drinkers to be able to sample the fruit of the recent craft beer revolution, in a shop furnished with reclaimed and recycled materials sourced from the local area. It’ll be a relaxed environment where customers will be given the opportunity to find their favourite beers, new beers and brew their own beers.
Bison Beer Crafthouse will be the first shop to bring draught growlers to Brighton.
The growlers, originating from the US, contain 64oz of beer (roughly three and a half pints in the UK), and using a counter-pressure filling system the good-looking growlers keep beer fresh for up to six weeks without any loss of carbonation. Customers will also be able to try before they buy and take away fresh beer in the containers.
Meet the Brewer evenings will be a regular feature at the shop, and an upcoming brew-school collaboration is in the pipeline. There will even be iPads available in store to enable you to match your beer with whatever you’re having for dinner.
Bison Beer Crafthouse will be opening its doors in late March for customers to explore, drink and discover. It is sure to generate a real buzz in and around Brighton and looks certain to add vibrancy to this already colourful city.
The InnSpectre reviews…
There’s a fine selection of books available at the King Lud on the Isle of Wight, although it’s going to take a certain kind of pubgoer to thumb through the weighty tome that is Active Server Pages 3.0. For those looking for a more free-flowing read there’s the Concise Oxford Dictionary.
The barmaid at the Railway in Cheam stared right through me as I ordered a pint. She then looked away when handing over my change with an expression of total and utter disgust. She looked hot, but I felt hideous. It was as if Kim Kardashian was pulling pints for the Elephant Man.
I risked life and limb by going for a wee at the Nell Gwynne, Covent Garden. The descent down the stairs to the toilets is akin to walking down a lift shaft. Bow your head and hold on tight to the handrails as you prepare for a journey to the centre of the pub. Resurfacing gives the drinker a real sense of achievement that I can only imagine was felt by Sir Edmund Hillary and Sherpa Tenzing when they conquered Everest back in 1953.
I edged towards the bar at the Zetland Arms in South Kensington, bumping my cheap old man bag into posh people who I suspect have names such as Tarquin, Octavia, Marmaduke and Cressida, all of whom had the obligatory quiff and smug smile you’d expect from polo-loving members of the aristocracy.