The home

brew crew After years of decline the brew-pub is undergoing something of a revival, finds Adrian Tierney-Jones.

And although producing your own beer is not a sure-fire way of making money, it does pull in the punters in search of an authentic pint It's a busy Friday night at the New Inn in Halse, outside Taunton in Somerset.

Pints are being pulled amid a reassuring hum of conversation.

The New Inn is in the Good Beer Guide and has won a local Campaign for Real Ale award.

"So what?" you might ask.

Look closer in the compact bar and you will see that two out of three of the real ales offered are brewed on the premises.

Some nights you will meet landlord Mark Leadeham as he lugs bags of malt in preparation for a mash.

The Somerset Electric Brewery began producing beer last winter and Leadeham divides his time between running the pub and producing enough beer.

"The brewery has been very positive for the pub in terms of profitability," he says, "I'm selling greater barrelage than before.

I believe that I also have a larger customer base, due to positive word-of-mouth.

People do genuinely seek out what they hear is a really nice beer."

There are now more than 70 pubs nationwide that, like the New Inn, have a brewing kit in an old stable block, garage or even inside the pub.

These breweries are part and parcel of the pub's business.

The beers are available on draught and often bottled; some solely sell their own beers, others have them alongside guests.

If brewing takes place during opening hours, drinkers can see their pint come into being.

And the list is growing.

Since Gordon Brown cut the duty rates I've met several landlords who plan to set up a brewery.

When the traditional pub is under so much pressure from red tape, people's changed leisure habits and the new panic of binge-drinking, an in-house brewery seems like a good hook to bring punters in.

For the discerning licensee brewing your own beer is also a sign of passion and pride in your product.

It's up there with home-cooked dishes (as opposed to microwave-pinged lasagne), freshly-made smoothies, home-baked bread and meat from your own herd.

Very River Cottage.

That's the romantic view, but reality intrudes in the form of hard work, long hours, failed electrics, yeast infections and punters who plump for a national brand as opposed to one lovingly nutured by the person behind the bar.

The brew-pub has a long history.

During the 19th century thousands of licensees made their own beer.

Most of these pubs vanished when devoured by growing family brewers, hungry for outlets.

The decline continued throughout the 20th century and, by the early 1970s, only four were left.

The real-ale revival and the microbrewery boom turned things around.

In the pioneering 1980s, free houses such as the Beer Engine in Devon, Sarah Hughes Brewery in the West Midlands and Hop Back in Wiltshire set up shop.

The latter was formed by John Gilbert at a corner pub in Salisbury and has been the most successful of all the brew-pubs in the last 20 years.

Let us also salute the late Firkin chain, which was started in London by entrepreneur David Bruce.

More recent arrivals have plumped for the stainless steel, in-your-face approach of the American bistro/restaurant, complete with food and beer suggestions.

Finally, there's the Gribble Inn in Oving, near Chichester, a rarity in that it is owned by Hall & Woodhouse, the Dorset-based regional brewer of Badger beers.

Beers from the independent Gribble Brewery are sold in the West Sussex pub and one of its brews, Fursty Ferret, has been taken up by H&W and is now a bartop regular alongside Tanglefoot.

Lots of licensees, however, probably look aghast at the thought of adding brewing to their busy lives.

It's physical work and takes up a fair bit of time, a commodity that is precious to your average pub operator.

What if there's a fault in the system and brew after brew is substandard?

One landlord set up a one-barrel micro at the back of his bar and started producing excellent beer.

Then he had all sorts of problems with the equipment and the finings, which led to rumours that he had stopped brewing for good.

He finally solved the problem and restarted brewing but failed to resolve the issues and has subsequently left the licensed trade altogether.

For Mark Leadeham, his Somerset brewery shows both good business sense and a sign of his passion for beer.

"Pub breweries are still rather novel," he says, "and you can create a niche product with your own on-site brewery.

I also found that my customers would welcome such a venture.

The beer has to be good though.

In the mid '80s I went to a brew-pub in Essex and sampled two different beers.

Both were awful."

Another answer for some publicans is to get in a brewer.

This is what Stephen and Jill Nixon did at the Lade Inn, Kilmahog in Perthshire, Scotland, when they set up the Trossachs Craft Brewery last year.

"We were approach-ed by the chap who is now our brewer," says Jill.

"He said that our garage space was being wasted and could be used for a brewery.

It seemed like a good idea.

It has added an extra dimension.

We're a food-led pub and people eat and then go along to see the brewery.

The beers go down really well."

Back over the border in the Shropshire town of Bishop's Castle, the Six Bells' brewer and landlord Neville Richards agrees about the cachet a brewery has added to his trade.

"It definitely attracts people into the pub," he says.

"My opinion is that these days a pub has to have its own angle, which for me is the brewery."

Maybe this is why some landlords are queueing to set up their mash tuns at the back of the pub and bore regulars about the diastatic quality of their malt.

At the Culm Valley Inn in Culmstock, east Devon, Richard Hartley still clings to the dream of producing his own beers.

"I want to have a brewery because it's reverting to how many pubs were in the 19th century," he says.

"Undoubtedly it will add something to the pub.

For me it will be a labour of love."

Another brave soul eager to get mashing is Pete Elvin, at the Star Inn at Crowlas, just outside Penzance.

He has a head start in that he used to be at Cotleigh Brewery in Somerset.

Elvin has bought the plant and at the moment is waiting for the kitchen to be finished before the kit can be set up in a stable block at the back.

Elvin hopes to be operational by Christmas and has no doubt that brewing his own beer will add something to the Star, which has a reputation as a beer drinkers' paradise.

"We already have a loyal customer base," he says, "but I am hoping that the brewery will bring in more holiday and passing trade.

With the kitchen open I will have everything together as one package.

Beer, home-cooked food and a good atmosphere."

Setting up a brewery may not be a licence to print money but it will certainly put your pub on the map and beer-hunters will converge there from miles around.

But Peter Hawksley of the Beer Engine in Newton St Cyres, Devon, warns about solely catering for them: "When we started up we spoke to David Bruce who told us that a brew-pub is a total business: one item is not enough, you have to get the right music, food and the rest."

Hawksley adds: "We don't do music anymore and now we stick to a simple set of principles that works for all our customers: that everything is real ­ from the flowers we put on the tables to the food and the beer.