Skip to main content

Credit Where Credit is Due - Mossley Organics & Fine Foods


I feel I have done a disservice to a good old friend of mine and it would be prudent to put that right when possible. You see, I recently wrote a blog post praising the opening of Beermoth in Manchester, I even wrote an e-mail to Beers of Europe giving them praise after they did me a particular favour. But I have neglected to give the required veneration to one particular shop that I probably frequent for beer more than any other.

For Christmas 2011 my Father bought me a bottle of Millstone Tiger Rut. This in itself may seem unimpressive to you, despite my praise of Millstone’s beers in various blogposts, however the significance of this purchase was not lost on me. Where the hell did he find it? Although Millstone are the most local of local breweries to me, I had never seen them in bottles. Mossley Organics he said he had found it and vowed we’d go up together soon.

Now, Mossley Organic Shop is less than 3 miles away from my house but, not visiting the town centre often myself, it was not somewhere I had visited prior to that Christmas. However, it was February 2012, after a dentist appointment that happens to be just around the corner from this shop, that I first got my chance to visit Mossley Organics. I expected a few Millstone beers and probably a selection from Greenfield Brewery in their small beer section. I had been unprepared for just how good it was going to be

I find it strange when I see other bloggers mentioning the good beer range in their local supermarkets. Some have mentioned BrewDog in Tesco, Oakham in Waitrose, any decent beer at all in Asda – either these people have “Bigged up” a very average assortment or they have a much bigger choice in their local brand supermarkets than I do. Because quite frankly, apart from a few measly offerings in Sainsbury’s, my local supermarkets have nothing worth bothering with.

So my local shop for food and beer has now become Mossley Organic & Fine Foods. The beer range, for a non-specialist shop, is particularly impressive. It only comprises of two shelving units, but a lot of quality is piled in. From my first visit they’ve always stocked the full core range from Buxton, Thornbridge and Red Willow. Mallinsons, Marble and Liverpool Organic have all joined in since, amongst many others, and on my last visit I was pleased to see the welcome addition of beers from the new (and local) TicketyBrew as well as OffBeat Brewery.

There is certainly a push towards local breweries here and no brewery further south than Crewe – or further north than Tadcaster (aside from North Yorkshire Brewing, stocked because of the 'Organic' label) – seems to make the shelf. This doesn’t bother me. I love that approach and am pleased to see the shop branch away from only those beers listed as “organic.” You may be unlikely to catch a Tsar Bomba or Pond Hopper here, but for very reasonably priced Axe Edge and Halcyon, I can think of nowhere better. They certainly do beers like that much cheaper than the specialist beer shops I’ve visited.

I do buy a lot of food here too, and my spice cupboard and cooking essentials are all the more improved since I came here. There are plenty of odd speciality foods and it is the first place I go to when trying a new recipe with ingredients that are either not in Tesco or that the big supermarkets feel is deserving of a ridiculous mark-up.

But for beer alone, this is definitely worth a visit if it’s accessible to you. Shop Local, as the WI frequently campaign, and I will whilst it's this impressive.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Pubs of Stalybridge Part One: The Stalybridge Seven.

And a touch more ...  Rififi Nightclub - once the town's cinema - has stood empty and unused for four and a half years This is the continuation of my posts of regular pub crawls to try and get myself in more pubs and discover more. Whilst I grew up in an old hamlet that most were quick to distance themselves from, my address clearly stated that we belonged to Stalybridge. However distant the town centre felt I was a Stalybridger, a Stalybridgian, a Stalyian: you know I don’t think I’ve ever heard us given a name before. I’m going with Stalyian. After a few moves around the country and through various relationships, I didn’t expect to find myself still local to the town in 2017. Whilst my address hasn’t stated Stalybridge for 3 years, I still spend plenty of time in the town – not least as it houses my “local.” To many in the north-west, it is famous for its nickname of Staly Vegas , that came about (as far as I’m aware) through its late Nighties-through-to-N...

LIVERPOOL - the City that Craft Beer Forgot Part II (and found...)

After visiting Liverpool, one of my favourite cities, in February this year, and not impressing people with my rather hasty but honest verdict on the city’s lack of craft beer, I jumped at the chance to return last week and hoped to come out with a more attractive judgement. A couple of friends and I visited on a day out, with neither of them having been drinking in the city before. It was left to me – or rather, I volunteered – to plan the day’s itinerary and places to visit. I had a couple of new or unvisited places in mind myself, but knew it would be unfair to miss out on some of the city’s famous gems. With around 10-12 hours in which to fit in an entire city, I opted to concentrate on the famous Georgian Quarter and see if we had time for the Dale Street end later on.    We planned to arrive in the city for around 11a.m. just in time to walk up Mount Pleasant to the new-on-me, though I believe it has been opened three years, Clove Hitch on Hope Street f...

WHEN CELEBRITIES DIE - THE INFINITY OF PUBS

    Recently I was stood outside Huddersfield Railway Station waiting for my Replacement Bus Service. I was eating much needed food from a nearby fast food outlet and contemplating my next move. Other match-goers had gone home but I had over 50 minutes to wait for my bus. We’d already been to a few of our post-match regular spots and so I was contemplating somewhere new or different to pass the time now.   I stood in St George’s Square, behind the statue of Harold Wilson, and pondered where I should waste my next hour. And pondered and pondered. After deliberation that ate into much of my allotted time, I walked down to the familiar setting of The Sportsman, realising that there wasn’t anywhere different to go at all.   But whilst I deliberated, I cast my eye over the currently scaffold-covered George hotel opposite the station; a place I had been in once with my Dad. It’s downstairs public bar had stood as a firm and available option to match-goers fo...