How we all became beer drinkers

Meet beer sommelier and our new drinks writer Marverine Cole, who will be sharing her knowledge to equip you with all you need to enjoy Britain’s most popular drink, whether you’re after a pint to sip in the garden or a beer to serve to guests at a dinner

Last year, beer was Britain’s most popular national drink. Eight million pints of it were sold in pubs, supermarkets and convenience stores

The number of women who said they enjoyed real ale as part of their regular drinking repertoire had doubled from one year to the next

When I was about seven years old, pubs made me mad. It was a pub that exploded any additional chances for me – the youngest and the only girl – to persuade my eldest brother to play just one more game of chess. He usually won – unless he conceded once or twice to prevent another sulk. As his horizons grew from education into work, his friendship circle grew, and that rite of passage – going to the pub – came into view.

When I was about 22, I liked them even less. It was a pub where halfway through a second date, he nipped to the loo. I nursed my cocktail for about an hour, waiting for him to come back, furtively spying the corridor towards the toilets, before eventually summoning the courage to ask the barman, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen that guy I came in with earlier, have you? You know, the one with the black hair in a “Relax” t-shirt? His pint is getting really warm now.’ I finished up my drink and called a taxi.

My mid-twenties heralded graduation, work, money and a bunch of mad friends. Pubs suddenly became intoxicating

– the thrill of meeting the girls and discussing the marriage suitability of the men we’d met there the week before, the flirty glances over the top of my vodka and Coke at the new specimens striding in ordering pints of lager.

It was a pub where, after every Saturday late shift at the local radio station, I’d meet and grow to know a handsome, clever, witty man who liked to order real ale, savoured it and actually laughed at my jokes, while I sipped rioja. Years after those soirées, guests reminisce about his home-brewed wedding ale as the best beer they’ve ever tasted.

Beer, to me, was for men only. It was a strong, usually brown, boring liquid, that no sensible woman I knew was in the least bit interested in. And, I never read or saw anything that challenged that view in my PBE days (that’s Pre-beer Epiphany).

But, 10 years ago, I returned to sunny Birmingham after a long contract presenting with Sky

News. My nose hung over a newspaper article that I was convinced was a work of fiction. It hailed the fact that the number of women who said they enjoyed real ale as part of their regular drinking repertoire had doubled from one year to the next. Doubled? Surely it was a misprint. My journalist’s nose starting twitching, and I was determined to see if that was true. I jumped in my car and drove about the Midlands tasting beers, chatting to pub owners, brewers and the author of that report to see if those figures were true. I remember filming in a Nottingham pub for a TV feature about the history of women and beer, when I spotted the pump clip for Peach Melbear by Beartown Brewery. A beer with a corny name was as good a reason as any to try it. My nose dipped into the glass as I went in for my first sip – a hint of peach danced across my nose, then hit my taste buds, with a slightly sweet, bitter finish. That was it, I was hooked. If beer could taste like this, then where the heck were the rest of them for me to try?

My epiphany became something of a rebirth. Someone hit my fast-forward button, and I threw beer-tasting parties for hundreds of wine- and champagne-loving women, deflecting questions like, do I have to drink pints of it? (No.) Can I add lemonade to a beer to sweeten it? (You should avoid that.) How did you know that beer was going to taste so good with that chocolate cake? And how many beers are out there? (At least 6,000 are brewed in the UK.) My ‘beer life’ threw me headlong into TV beer tastings on ITV’S This

Morning, awards for my work, and me taking various tests to become an accredited beer sommelier.

Last year, beer was Britain’s most popular national drink, with eight million pints sold in pubs, supermarkets and convenience stores. This year, like many other industries, it’s changed due to the pandemic – 47,000 pubs were forced to close during lockdown, and 70 million pints (or the equivalent of 16 Olympic-sized swimming pools) had to be thrown away. It’s been a huge shock for an industry that contributes £22million to the economy, and provides around 900,00 jobs.

But, now that putting the world to rights with friends down the pub is back on our agendas, I’ll help you navigate the glorious world of beer as your resident beer sommelier. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to let me show you the beers that will set your senses and taste buds alight.

In this column, I’ll showcase the best beers around. Some will be the ‘relaxing in the garden’-type sippables, while others will be perfect complements to delicious home-cooked meals.

Marverine Cole is an accredited beer sommelier, broadcaster and journalist who’s won several awards. She’s a member of the British Guild of Beer Writers, and has collaborated with breweries on her own beers. She’s conducted tastings on ITV’S This Morning, and extolled the virtues of Britain’s national drink on various BBC shows. She can usually be found in a pub somewhere in the West Midlands. marverinecole.co.uk

@Beerbeauty @Tvmarv