BV London Pub of the Year 2025-2026 - the results

It takes a lot of hard work and strenuous drinking to run this little Pub of the Year contest. 

Yes, there's travelling and making notes and taking the occasional photo'n'shit, but it mostly involves drinking beer, which is what I love about it. 

(Except when the beer isn't up to much, obviously, but that hardly ever happens because we're talking literally the best pubs in the area and even That London, for all its myriad faults and horrors, can still boast a fair few decent pubs if you know where to look. And if you don't, read on because I'll tell you!)

In part one we reassessed last year's finalists, and in the second part five new contenders and retreads joined the party, with the ultimate aim of picking out the best pub in Greater London.

Once again it's now time to pick out an overall winner, and, like so many of life's little experiential trinkets, it comes around faster and faster with every passing year, so let's get on with it, before it's next year or 2038 or the 14th segment of Advanced AI Supertime...

But is it beer?

One of the many things that irritates me these days - as an increasingly irritable middle-aged man who finds lots of stuff irritating as he gets older - is going into a pub and being confronted with lots of beers that are very similar to one another.

Sometimes I'll go for a long session consisting entirely of beers I've technically never had before, but which seem suspiciously familiar.

Drinking mostly cask, as I do, this will typically take the form of a 4.2% pale golden ale, moderately hopped with New World varieties. Accessible, easy to drink, and, to borrow a phrase from my late Grandmother, common as muck.

I don't dislike them - they're generally good beers from good brewers. But they really are hard to tell apart at times. Given a choice between sticking to a formula or taking bold risks, the brewers chose the option that involved minor tweaks to an existing recipe and possibly having to come up with a quirky name!

 

The case for low-alcohol cask

Last week, I drank a cask beer from Downton brewery at the Ealing Beer Festival. Secret Sobriety was the name.

There's nothing unusual about that in itself. I go to Ealing most years and drink a lot of cask ale when I'm there. Downton are a fairly well-established brewery and I've drunk 63 different cask beers from them. However...

It was a good beer. Dry. Hoppy. Easy to drink. What makes this beer so remarkably unusual is that it was only 0.5% ABV. And cask beers at that strength are incredibly rare.  

We are told that the Low Alcohol / Alcohol Free beer sector is absolutely booming. Apparently it has grown 870% since 2013, which is quite astonishing growth, given that the overall beer market has been in long-term gradual decline. AF Guinness has become one of the most popular beers in the country in next to no time (I find it too sweet and malty personally) and lots of big brands now have a low- or zero-alcohol variant available.

Heinekin, Becks, Peroni - all the mainstream lagers are at it, and Adnams has managed to take the alcohol out of Ghost Ship without losing too much else. A success story, definitely, and possibly even some sort of victory for the nation's health and wellbeing. And these beers are genuinely a world apart from the non-alcoholic beers of the past. Kaliber, anyone?

But it's always a bottle, a can, or sometimes keg. The one thing that LA/AF beer hasn't traditionally offered us is that authentic cask experience. The unique quality and mouthfeel of a cask beer is what marketing wankers might call a 'key product differentiator' or something. There's something about it that you don't get when you drink beer that comes out of a keg, can or bottle.

So why is Low Alcohol cask still so incredibly uncommon?

Thornbridge: Part of the Union

For the best part of 20 years, Thornbridge has been one of my favourite breweries. Quite possibly my favourite British brewery of all time. (And, just in case you hadn't heard, I drink a lot of different beers from a lot of different breweries!)

One of the things I like about Thornbridge is that they're not afraid to innovate, whether that means experimenting with contemporary ideas, or delving deep into brewing history. A couple of years ago, Thornbridge began an interesting project, very much in the latter category, when they acquired a 'Burton Union Set', and began a series of 'from the Union' beers - six of which I've now sampled.   

This unique method of fermentation is a fascinating part of brewing history, and one that almost died out altogether when Carlsberg-Britvic-Marstons (or whatever amalgamatory name they're calling themselves these days) stopped using their decades-old Union, and broke it up for scrap or salvage. Thornbridge salvaged some of it, as it happens, which is where this story begins.

Tu be or not tu be?

I've been toying with the idea of starting a Youtube channel. Specficially one that documents me visiting pubs, drinking new cask ales and steadily adding to my tally of around 13,000 different pints over the past 30 years.

Maybe called BV ticks beers. Or something. You'd see me in a pub getting excited because they have a new Red IPA from Siren on. I sup the beer, tell you a bit about it, and give it my considered verdict. The number 13,326 flashes up on the screen, along with the beer name, the ABV and a rating of 7/9. Then I move on to another pub in search of the next tick. Probably swearing quite a lot if it's my tenth of the day, then cutting the video short because I need a piss.

Would there be any demand for content such as this?

(I'm not assuming the answer is 'Yes', by the way. I know it's a niche thing. But then a lot of Youtube is niche. And still more of it is about making niche feel normal.)

Golden Pints: BV's best beers of 2025

Well, that's another year done and dusted. How was it for you? Did you drink some good beer? Excellent.

Personally, I was sat there all contendedly like, thinking that 2025 was probably fairly decent, ale-wise, but delving a tad more deeply into me records (for the purpose of this post) the past year actually appears far more underwhelming. Certainly less whelming. Quite disappointing, even, which is just what I needed at this time of year. Fuck you, you stupid year!

Unless the spreadsheets are telling lies, I managed 597 new cask beers during the year (about 100 down on 2024) and only five of them scored the 'effective maximum' of 8/9, which, I suppose, means they can all be detailed here without any need to shortlist them, so at least I won't have to remember which were slightly better than the others and perform tie-breakers in my head!

This takes my overall total up to 12,890 since I first starting keeping track, exactly 30 years ago. (Happy beer-ticking anniversary to me! Do I get a Pearl tankard or something?) 

I'll try and work out my absolute 'beer of the year' in a moment, but firstly, a few mentions of the - ahem - 'other' stuff...

So long, Old Mudgie

I noticed that my last two blog headers have been 'So long's - something that happened purely by accident and/or editorial laziness on my part. 

So I'm now going to 'complete the trilogy', as it were, but this is a farewell I really wish we didn't have to bid. RIP Peter Edwardson, aka The Pub Curmudgeon, who died unexpectedly a few days ago, at just 64.

This is a sad loss; To my knowledge, I only met Peter in person the one time, and that was a fair few years ago, possibly even before his beer blogging really took off, though he was already writing for local CAMRA publications.

I had contacted his local branch about the possibility of re-publishing some of his work down South, and as I happened to be in his neck of the woods for football, we met up for a few pints. Robinson's Unicorn, if I remember correctly. We chatted - slightly awkwardly, if I'm honest - about pubs, beer and the role of CAMRA newsletters/magazines. 

His blog famously promised 'a jaundiced view of life from the darkest recess of the saloon bar', but possibly more significantly, he also wrote from a perspective well outside of the 'beer bubble' and provided a refreshing counterpoint at a time when you'd be forgiven for thinking people who wrote about beer were woke hipsters who only drank craft keg.

He couldn't be persuaded into 'that world' and I acted as an intermediary for a while, with a foot in both camps. Indeed he rather relished being blocked on social media by some of the bigger names in the beer writing business for having 'the wrong opinions'! (Mentioning no names but it won't take a whole lot of guesswork...)  

We had very different tastes in beer, and indeed different views on many of the issues affecting beer, pubs and breweries, but we definitely shared a taste in music (Tull, Rush, Roxette, Thunder... though we disagreed slightly on 'Stop the Cavalry by Jonah Lewie') and broadly Libertarian politics. I wonder if we were the only two mostly non-smokers that were fiercely opposed to the smoking ban on the grounds of essential human freedom and choice?

He was a staunch defender of traditional British beer styles, bench seating, regional breweries and the tied house system. And of course Draught Bass. And, to some extent, Sam Smiths. He actively disliked a lot of the stuff I like, but we were always able to disagree amicably and have an intelligent discussion, from which we might all learn.

This is not a eulogy and I didn't know Peter well enough to say any more. Just go and read his blog. It was good. And have a pint in his memory. I did.

Rest in Peace and Rise in Glory. Or Bass.

So long, and thanks for all the beer?

Is this the end of the Great British Beer Festival?

When I visited GBBF 2025 last month, I had a few concerns about its future. My beloved special place, dislocated and poorly attended. Something not quite right. 

Talking to staff there, it was felt to be 'quiet', but there was no sense of absolute disaster. We all had a pretty good time, even if it didn't feel the same.

Then came the murmerings of disquiet and doom-mongery. 

It wasn't encouraging when some of US casks went untapped and had to be sent to other events and pubs in the area. That's right - beer from the USA bar which always sells out early hadn't found enough customers at the NEC. Suboptimal.

No queues, plenty of seating available - maybe a good thing for a customer, but not a good sign for CAMRA really. 

Then the news emerged that they had made a loss. A big loss. £320k apparently. That's not just 'disappointing', it's an excuse to legitimately wheel out terms like 'existential' and 'catastrophic'.

It's really not good news. 

BV London Pub of the Year 2024-25 - the results

Go on then, let's have a winner, shall we?!?

It's been a close contest this year, particularly deciding which of the ten pubs make my top five and which will have to sit out next years competition to make way for plucky young upstart newcomers, but thems the breaks...

Indeed, last year's winner, the Star & Garter in Bromley has narrowly failed to make the final this year and I do feel a slight pang of sadness, but I'm sure they'll be back. (If you haven't read parts one and two, this won't mean a whole lot of jack shit, so check those out first!)

Right...

GBBF - but not as we know it?

My relationship with the Great British Beer Festival goes back a long way - I've been attending it for over 30 years and have never missed one - so it was with a little trepidation that I attended GBBF 2025 last week.

Trepidation, because it was always going to be just that bit different this year; the first GBBF to be held outside London since 1990, and, consequently, my first GBBF not at Olympia (or its deceased sibling, Earl's Court) so I was prepared for unfamiliarity. And I don't always like unfamiliarity. 

But let's be thankful for small mercies; in three of the last five years, there hasn't been a GBBF at all, and the future of the festival was in doubt (maybe it still is?) Additionally, it's a huge undertaking involving a lot of wonderful volunteers (of which I wasn't one this year, but I feel like I probably should've been), so brilliant work from everyone involved in making it happen. Anything is better than GBBF not taking place, like last year.

On paper the NEC (which is technically in the Borough of Solihull, not Birmingham, but hey...) has long felt like a good potential festival location. The site is massive, it's more central (to the rest of the country) than London, and it has the necessary supporting infrastructure (so I'm told by an HGV driver!)

So, how was it?

Drink for Victory: BV's favourite cask beers of all time!

The VE Day celebrations last month, fairly subdued as they were, got me thinking about VE Day 1995, which was much more of 'a thing'. Perhaps understandably, because 50 years is a 'bigger' anniversary than 80 and, more poignantly, there were many more people alive back then for whom it actually meant something tangibly memorable.

Me being me, it got me thinking about Young's Victory Ale, and that, in turn, got me wondering if it would be possible to come up with a definitive list of my favourite cask beers ever. 

People do occasionally ask me 'which one was your favourite?' when they find out out many pints I've had, and it's really not a straightforward question to answer, precisely because I've had over 12,500 cask beers since I started keeping records in January 1996. 

I was drinking for a few years before that too, though the only beer from my 'bibens juvenilia' period that still stands out as a contender for this list would be the aforemented Victory Ale. That's how good it was.

Golden Pints: BV's best beers of 2024

It's that time again, when I cast an over-shouldered glance at all the new beer I got to drink over the past year and tell you which ones were best.

My drinking year was ultimately cut short by a few days due to the worst 'flu' I've ever suffered. Because I don't do hangovers, I'm not really used to having headaches. And it seemed to make the neuropathic pain in my toes many, many times more agonising, like being set on fire and hit repeatedly with sledgehammers and anvils. Then there was the concurrent shivering and fever sweats. Horrible.

But possibly the worst feature was what I call 'Hypnogogic Purgatory' - highly tedious and frustrating half-dreams that seem to go on forever in a state where I'm not fully asleep or awake; a sense of endlessly trying to shuffle arbitrary objects into an order and constantly failing to do so. (Maybe Hypnogogic Purgatory should be an Imperial Stout?!?)

BV London Pub of the Year 2023-24 - the results

What takes place once a year and involves me drinking large quantities of beer? 

Well, OK, it could be practically anything, admittedly, but, more specifically, it's the BV London Pub of the Year award. Yes, it's a painstaking process, visiting and revisiting pubs to determine which one is the best in the capital, but I've been doing it for well over a decade now and you can thank me later. With beer.

This is the big fuck-off final, so if you haven't read the first and second parts of the contest with all the important details'n'shit, you might want to do so now before the big reveal. 

(It's probably a bit like how you don't want to spoil your dinner by eating a Mars Bar, but it's OK to have olives or something.)

OK then...

 

Missing you

I don't know about you, but early August has felt very strange this year for me.

There's been no Great British Beer Festival. And my life doesn't really seem to make sense without it.

Where I belong...

I'm well known for my deep love for the GBBF, having first attended 30 years ago and I've never missed one since.

Yes, I know we went without it in 2020 and 2021 due to some silly pandemic nonsense, but it was great to welcome it back into my life in 2022 and last year I finally took the plunge and spent the week volunteering which gave me a whole new perspective on the event.

So I'm really missing it.

I've said many times before that there's just something about it that makes the experience unique among beer festivals. It's not just about getting loads of banging beers into my system; it's a part of my life and a tradition. 

Picking up rumours and tittle-tattle from various CAMRA sources has got me worried about the future of the GBBF. I don't doubt that it will return - after all, the main reason behind this years event being cancelled was due to the extensive ongoing renovations taking place at Olympia - but it may not be quite the same festival when it does come back.

I've heard that the festival has gone beyond being cost-ineffective and become quite seriously loss-making, which would make it unsustainable in its current form. Over the years staff perks have been cut back a bit in an attempt to offset this but fat can only be trimmed so much before one starts carving into muscle. 

A scaled-down half-hearted GBBF of compromises just wouldn't be the same. I'd go, of course, but would I still be in love?

Pull the other one!

In recent weeks there has been considerable debate about Carlsberg-Marston's launch of 'Fresh Beer', a controversial product that has garnered mostly negative coverage before it has even found its way onto the bar.

And I have to admit, I find myself feeling not unduly concerned about this. Yes, it's misleading and arguably the latest in a very long line of wrongs committed by wrong-un brewing conglomerates. But I don't think it's going to be a fundamental threat to the (cask) beers I like to drink.

It's controversial because it's essentially a keg beer, dispensed via a handpump - presumably a full-size one that looks more authentic than the miniature faux handpumps already used for keg dispense, and maybe even one that actually gets pulled rather than simply 'flicked' into the 'on' position. I get all that. But it's just not causing my hackles to rise in a visceral surge of physical disgust.

3.4 Children

It's now been a fair few months since changes to UK Duty legislation made it advantageous for breweries to produce beers at a strength of 3.4% or weaker, and we should be starting to see the effects of this at the bar counter as breweries seek to offer beers meeting this criteria.

Speculation at the time suggested that this could be the death knell for cask ales in the 3.5 to 3.7% range, with a host of new beer launches and reformulations of existing recipes hitting the market in order to comply. But to what extent has this actually happened?

Taste the difference?

Of course, it should be remembered that brewers do get some leeway with regards to deviation from the advertised strength. Cask ale, in particular, is a living, evolving, maturing product that can easily get stronger as it sits in a pub cellar. However, if breweries were to leave, say, a 3.8% beer unchanged and just write 3.4% on the pumpclip, they'd be cutting it very fine indeed, so by and large I'd expect them to be playing with a straight bat and brewing their revised beers 'down the middle' rather than trying taking unnecessary risks trying to get away with something that lurks in the margins. And, theoretically, a weaker beer should be cheaper for them to produce too, though this isn't always the case.

3.4% is something of an iconic ABV in certain quarters, mainly because of Brakspear's Bitter. Back when I was a youngster, before the brewery closed, this was considered an absolute classic session beer, and proof that great things can be done at this sort of strength.

Golden Pints: BV's best beers of 2023

Compliments of the festive season, everyone!

(Yes, whatever anybody tells you, it's still Christmas. My decorations are staying up at least until Twelfth Night, and quite possibly until Candlemas.)

It is, however, a 'new year' which means people like me can definitively announce our favourite beverages from the previous one. Which is exactly what I'm about to do, so strap yourselves in

BV London Pub of the Year 2022-23 - the results

What combines the anticipatory excitement of a gender-reveal party with the hoppy aroma of a cool, fresh pint, and the excited anticipation of a different gender-reveal party?

That's right - the BV London Pub of the Year contest. And the hour is hand for the winner to be revealed, so let's crack on with our top five for 2022-23.

So, here we go...

(Oh yeah, read the actual content of parts one and two first, otherwise none of this will make any sense.)

So, here we go. For real this time...

GBBF 2023: A Call to (Volunteer) Arms

I've been attending the Great British Beer Festival for 29 years now, and have long been a staunch supporter of the event. 

Typically I'd get a Season Ticket, attend most or even all of the sessions, and drink lots of beers during the week, which would be one of the highlights of my year. I've seen it grow in size from the mid-90s onwards; the evolution as it moved from Olympia to Earl's Court and then back again. And I sorely missed it in 2020 and 2021, when it didn't take place. Its return in 2022 brought a sense of purpose back to my life. Well, back to my first week in August, at any rate.

But despite being a GBBF Superfan, I'd never volunteered - until this year - and it's only right that I now give you my honest assessment of how I got on last week.

Happy Orval Day!

Today, 26 March, is apparently 'Orval Day', which is a happy coincidence as I'd been meaning to write a few words on the subject for a while.

Actually I've been meaning to drink some Orval for a while. It's been too long.

Now I've been a fan of Orval since I first sampled it on my 17th birthday, which was a worryingly long time ago. But here's the thing...

The greatest of all Trappist beers?

Beer aficionados tend to divide into two distinct camps. There are those who, like me, think Orval is the greatest of all the Belgian Trappist ales, but there are many who consider it second-rate in comparison to Chimay, Westmalle, Westvleteren; pretty much all the others. I've even heard it said that it's 'not really a proper Trappist beer'. And it's true that it's quite stylistically different to the others and a bit of an outlier.

I suspect that - amongst those informed enough to take a view - those of us who express a preference for Orval are in the minority, but there are a fair few of us.

And I think what it comes down to is whether one actually really likes the 'proper' Trappist ales or not. I have to admit that I don't, particularly. I've never enjoyed the spicy, herby, clovey, bananary sweetness of Dubbels, Tripels and Quads. I could happily get through life without ever having another bottle of Rochefort 8 or Chimay Gold. I can appreciate these beers being well made, while just not personally liking the features imparted by the yeast that helped make them.

But I like Orval because it has less of the characteristics of Trappst and Abbey beers that put me off. It's hoppier, livelier, more sessionable, more quenching and sports aromatics more in line with what you'd expect from the New World than an old monastery. 

I like that it's 'only' 6.2% ABV (though it's bottled-conditioned and may consequently strengthen over time). I like the freshness on the nose, like a subtle waft of incense. I like the dry hoppiness that comes through in the finish.

So that's an explanation of sorts - Orval is the Trappist beer for those who don't especially enjoy Trappist beers. Which sounds like damnage with faint praise, though that's really not my intention.

If you've never tried Orval, give it a go - particularly if you think you don't like Belgian strong ales. It's lighter and weaker and drier and less classically Belgian.

And it has possibly the coolest glass of any beer ever!