Micro-maestro

Dave Porter has fulfilled his dream of setting up a micro-brewery - now he helps others turn visions into reality. Steve Hobman meets a controversial legend.

Many of us admire single-handed record-breakers - the intrepid round-the-world yacht boys and girls, brave Atlantic rowers or even amazing egg-eaters such as "Cool Hand Luke" Newman. Now the beer world has produced its own candidate for a Guinness World Record - step forward, brewing maestro Dave Porter.

This irrepressible, ex-engineering-company-accountant-turned-publican and brewer isn't a big brewer, nor does he head a huge pub company. But he's fast becoming a legend in his own brew-time.

From his base camp in Lancashire's Pennine foothills, Porter has been in the forefront of the new model army of micro-brewers expanding across the country. In brew-pubs, converted cowsheds, old chicken huts, industrial units and domestic garages, he has built more than 40 micros since his mission began in 2002. Last year Porter was responsible for 15 of the 80 new breweries coming on stream. Having completed three this April, he expects to bring his total to 20 by the end of this year.

And Porter doesn't intend to stop there - he aims to supply about one in four of all new starts over the next 18 months.

Benign Svengali​Reaching as far as Scandinavia, Porter reckons he has already set up a brewing capacity equal to that of a decent-sized regional. He has received enquiries from Spain and France and recently accepted an order to ship a brewery to South Africa. And incidentally, he organises his own annual brewing conference featuring international guests.

A benign Svengali of the brewing industry, Porter answers the prayers of would-be micro-brewers by helping them to make their dreams come true. Their ambitions are reminiscent of his own days as an accountant, when he was well-heeled but found himself yearning for new horizons.

As a self-confessed "pretty good" home brewer, Porter's breakthrough followed his redundancy from an engineering firm in 1991, when he decided to try larger-scale brewing.

Emerging from a steep learning curve, which he describes as "soaking up as much as I could about brewing" he was ready to move on to purchasing the Griffin Inn at Haslingden, in Lancashire, in 1994.

Eventually Porter acquired five pubs, supplying them from his eight-barrel brewhouse which he built himself for £12,000:"It would have cost £40,000 otherwise,"​ he says. Now he's reverted to just the Griffin and the Camra (Campaign for Real Ale) award-winning Railway in Stockport, while he designs and makes new micros. He boasts that "you won't find anyone else on the planet who can fit a brewery for less"​, whether he's working with a budget of £7,000 or £70,000.

Anyone researching new launches couldn't fail to notice that the Porter Brewing Co is mentioned in dispatches time after time - one website, with a hint of tongue-in-cheek, refers to Porter as "the genius". But only a personal encounter could confirm the truth.

In characteristically straight-talking and ebullient style, Porter was half-way through a presentation to two potential brewers from Manchester and the North-East when I arrived at his brewery, buried beneath his Griffin Inn. The new boys had already been there for over an hour, but Svengali hadn't finished wth them yet. His evangelistic preaching maintains that creating craft beer is a tremendous experience, and that brewing "virgins" can see success - with the right coaching.

But he lays it on the line: "Budget to earn nothing in your first year,"​ he warns the two virginal micro-men. "You have to sell beer at a profit. With 10-15 barrels, you can make a reasonable living if you're selling at the right margins and your costs are OK. The tax in-centive has given you the chance to do it,"​ he proclaims.

Military-style campaign​It was that tax incentive - the controversial Progressive Beer Duty (PBD)- created by chancellor Gordon Brown in 2002, in response to SIBA's (Small Independent Brewers' Association) demands for concessions to smaller brewers, that motivated Porter to pursue his dream. Camra claims PBD has "contributed to a 29% increase in the number of independent brewers since 2002". Porter has played a huge role in this expansion.

Although he recalls a slow start to his installation business, a glance at his pin-studded military-style campaign map on his brew-house wall reveals an array of conquests: from the Isle of Islay up to Haandbryggeriet in Norway and back down to the organic Atlantic brewery in Newquay, Cornwall, the pins are placed far and wide.

Significantly, as well as engineering the plant, he has also taken a hand in creating more than 100 different beers - "in every style within the British real ale category" from luscious dark stouts to light blonde winners.

Not bad for an ex-home brewer.

Beer duty wrangle​The flipside of his image as a benign evangelist is Porter's devilish incarnation, which appears to those who fear the potential of micros to undermine the cask-ale market for the regional brewers by - allegedly - offering huge discounts on the back of PBD.

This view, expressed by Union Pub Company managing director Stephen Oliver at SIBA's annual conference, reflects the feelings of many independent regional brewers and even some members of SIBA.

Oliver warned that what he called "Johnny-come-lately" micro-brewers had the potential to inflict lasting damage on the industry, hastening the take-over of regional brewers.

He said: "I believe PBD is damaging the consumer's perception and experience of quality beer, creating a false market and lining the pockets of hobby-brewers... undermining the very future of committed and long-standing regional brewers of cask ale."​

Other voices echo those fears, urging reform of the PBD to help those regional brewers producing above the annual 60,000 hectolitre ceiling for relief.

Whether he deserves the pejorative title or not, Porter is dismissive, pointing out that many micro-owners have enjoyed successful careers and have devoted plenty of blood, sweat and tears to the process of launching their breweries.

"Many micro-brewers join the trade as a result of classic mid-life crises - brewing is their dream. If regional brewers can't stand the heat... perhaps they should... sell a Range Rover or two,"​ he suggests, perhaps unusually tempering a more robust thought.

For himself he makes no apology: "I'm just a businessman who spotted an opportunity. I knew I could supply brewing plants at a very viable rate because I think about the process and minimise on-site time."​

Porter regards a 2½-barrel brew-length plant as the entry level - small enough to fit into most buildings - including a domestic garage - but large enough to be commercial.

Other options escalate to a 20-barrel capacity, but Porter reckons a six barrel plant doing two batches a week can produce enough income to support one person full-time. Whatever the size, he is adamant that quality beers are brewed using skill and the quality of raw ingredients rather than the amount spent on the brewing plant. Lack of brewing knowledge is no barrier to entry, he claims.

"I have worked with many (brewing) virgins whose only understanding of quality ale has been how to drink the stuff, and gently helped them towards an understanding of the mysteries of ale production. Now they are happy brewers, unleashing quality products on a grateful world,"​ is Porter's rather less-than-self-effacing claim.

Sorry Mr Oliver - it's time to pass the Guinness Book.

Inspirational approach

Porter's hands-on, no-nonsense approach is certainly affirmed by some of his customers. Former industrial relations guru Bob Douglas, of Nottingham's newly-opened six-barrel Magpie Brewery, agrees. "Dave Porter is a bit of a whirlwind,"​ he says. "It only took him a day to install our plant. And he help​