Friday Five: Sydney Breweries

I found these old pictures from way back in 2016 when we had a weekend of sporting, cultural and outdoor activities in Sydney going to football matches, art galleries and coastal walks. Naturally, we also went to cafes, restaurants, pubs and microbreweries. Here are five of the latter.

5 Sydney Microbreweries

1. Paddy's Brewery, Homebush - we walked for hours to get to this strange little place on Parramatta Road, down back streets and under railway bridges. The brewery has apparently been going since 2001 and it is tucked away in an inauspicious-looking hotel. The beer was fine, although I'm not sure it was worth searching out, and I suspect that the craft brewing scene has moved on since this enterprise began. 



Him Outdoors with his judgy face on




2. Sydney Brewery, Sydney - We actually went to the Cidery Bar & Kitchen, which is an odd little place in the middle of the Rydges World Square in the Sydney CBD, looking out over a shopping centre. It was a hot day and the Sydney Cider was perfectly crisp and refreshing - it's brewed on site and has a great name.



Sydney Cider




3. Young Henrys, Newtown - This is more like what I expect from the craft brewing scene - a busy little hub down a back street surrounded by industrial buildings and young folk with black t-shirts and hipster beards. There was a small selection of well-brewed ales on offer with lots of hops and freshness. 



Shiny new bling at Young Henry's

4. Willie the Boatman, Marrickville - an absolute favourite for service and variety. The owners and brewers are so friendly and all they want to do is share their wares. There's not a lot of space to sit, so it's best to stand at the bar to talk to the staff, try out all the beers, and consider taking a few home for later. If you can grab a stool when one becomes available, the tasting paddles are a fine way to work through a few different styles. 

5. Batch Brewing, Marrickville - There are so many options to try here that it's hard to move on anywhere else. The brewers at Batch are always experimenting and you sit right among the tanks to taste the beers which range from sours and sessions to browns and stouts. The tasting notes are complied with attention to detail, to answer any questions, and there really is something for everyone! The place has a friendly and social vibe, and a food cart is parked up outside to cater for the peckish. More beer!

That's a happy face

Cosy Cotswolds Crime: A Season for Murder

A Season for Murder by Ann Granger

Headline

Pp. 310

This novel is subtitled A Mitchell and Markby Village Whodunnit, implying there are more. A quick Google search reveals there are fifteen and this is the second. I would happily read them, as I found this to be what is somewhat dismissively termed, a ‘cosy murder’ novel, but it is perfect for reading on a rainy weekend, and as comforting as a bowl of chicken soup. It is set in a world of village life, country lanes, cosy pubs, and the Boxing Day Hunt where do-gooders attempt to help with varying degrees of success, and men are cruel to women. It was published in 1991 before mobile phones and internet searches – crime was different then; a plot point relies upon bin men collecting the rubbish bags personally. The moors are spooky, the lanes can be too quiet, and myths and superstitions abound along with ancient and pagan rituals. It’s all wonderfully atmospheric.

As usual, a young, attractive independent woman (Harriet) is the murder victim, but there is blame apportioned to her and her behaviour: she had many gentleman callers; she was a harpy and a whore; she had no one special to look after her; “But I wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t driven me to it… It was entirely her own fault, her doing, not mine… She was the cause, she started it all.” Men can’t be trusted apparently, and they certainly can’t be friends with women. Harriet, and women in general, suffer from this dichotomy.

The novel follows typical crime tropes and we are aware that due process must be followed; in law as in literature. “I’m not a barrister, Markby thought, nor judge nor jury. But he was the first step on the path to those persons and he had to get this right! If he didn’t, some clever lawyer would get the boy off on a technicality.” Another of these tropes is that there must be chemistry and tension between the male and female detectives, and so, of course, there is. Meredith is a happily single woman, yet still feels she has to prove herself to others and stake her place in the world, especially at Christmas; a very lonely time.

At thirty-five, Meredith has always “looked after herself”, and now she considers, “It was too late to change and tie herself to someone else. But she knew that was untrue. Of course it could be done. People married or entered into permanent relationships later in life and thrived on them. But it would turn her world upside down.” The perspective often changes from Meredith to Marky as the novel follows the thoughts of one and then the other. At one point they are singing carols (badly) in church, and the focus switches like a harmony in song. This is nicely done, and the style of writing complements the delightful Cotswold setting to make this an enjoyable addition to the genre.