Oh Pilot! My Pilot!
We catch up with one of Edinburgh’s most beloved brewery Pilot to talk about lager, life post-COVID, and preserving the love of making beer
Robyn Gilmour
Saturday 21 September 2024
This article is from
Scotland
issue 109
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“There's a lot of people who like the branding of Leith today who wouldn’t have liked it 20 or 30 years ago. Sure, Leith is different now, but I don’t think it’ll ever fully change. I saw a man spit in a seagull's face the other day.” Patrick Jones, co-founder of Pilot brewing, speaks to me from a comfortable meeting room, just off the busy brewery floor. It’s August, and Pilot isn’t immune to the chaos of the Edinburgh Fringe. If anything, 11 summers of practice has taught Pat to flow with it, instead of trying to order, or fight the festival’s indomitable force. “Every year it comes, and every year it catches me by surprise.”
For years, mention of my living in Edinburgh would ignite conversation about “the guys at Pilot”, and how large a presence this little brewery has in Leith, a suburb colloquially described as a city within the city. Pat jokes dryly that the brewery probably spearheaded the gentrification of the area when it first opened its doors on nearby Jane Street, 11 years ago now, but he’s quick to point out that “while we’re on the wanky side of small business, there’s no money in it and it’s hard work.”
Of course, “hard work” doesn’t do justice to the severity of challenges that have plagued the industry since the pandemic. Pilot moved into its current facility, on the Stewartfield Industrial estate in 2019, and Pat says the brewery is just now where it thought it would be a year after moving in.
“Things haven’t been easy, for years we’ve been in and out of recession periods, and that’s been really hard,” Pat says. “We’re still slaves to whatever’s affecting the hospitality industry, so if hospitality is suffering, we’re suffering. Edinburgh is a wealthy city with lots of tourism, so we probably exist in more of a bubble than the rest of the country. We have the Fringe every year, and that’s massive for us, we can turn over about 30% more than we do in a normal month, so losing that during COVID was really difficult.”
Adding insult to injury, Edinburgh Council hasn't created the most welcoming environment for small businesses already doing their best to beat back the tide of economic instability, prioritising residential development across swathes of the city, the Stewartfield Industrial Estate included. “Official plans exist which state that if a developer wants to build flats on this land, it’s pre-approved,” says Pat. “We’ve got 10 years left on the lease so we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, but you know, it’s not great news for little businesses. What is the place without businesses and industry?”
This question seems especially pertinent in Edinburgh right now, which has earned the status of beer city in recent years, thanks to the industry created by Pilot, and its nearest neighbours Campervan, Mookwake, Newbarns and, until recently, Donkozo, and that’s not to mention the work of Stewarts, Barney’s, Bellfield and Vault City, on the other side of the city. In fact, Edinburgh has more recently been referred to as a budding lager town, a coveted suggestion, given the technical skill required to make a lager, and the reputation required to sell one for what it’s worth.
Things haven’t been easy, for years we’ve been in and out of recession periods, and that’s been really hard
“I think it's just the industry growing up,” says Pat, when asked about this transition. “Plus, nowadays, with Newbarns on your doorstep, if you’re going to do a lager, you have to do it well. We’re not competitive about it, so much as it’s just logical that if you’re going to release a lager in a neighbourhood known for lagers, it has to be able to hold its own. We started brewing lager four or five years ago, and looking back on it now, it probably wasn’t amazing at first, but we took on a new brewer, Laurie, a couple of years ago now and he's brilliant. He, along with Jezz and Jonny, have just made it their mission to make great lager and now I’d back them against anyone.”
Mention of the Pilot team brings out a whole new side to Pat; he’s earnest and convicted, where he might previously have been sardonic, and self-effacing. “There are ten of us here, and you know what’s going on in everyone’s lives,” he begins. “We're at a point now where we've got people who started with us, got married, had kids, and now have other kids on the way. Payroll isn’t just numbers on a spreadsheet, and that’s kind of what this is all really about. I think people can have a wrong idea of what success is.”
A part of me always feels guilty for asking a brewery about its plans for the future, like getting through another day in this economy isn’t miraculous enough, but in this instance, I’m glad I did. “We've always moved slowly,” Pat begins. “We only got the canning line up and running in April 2019, that was five years after we started. I think the hope is that things that are slow to build up, are slow to go down too. You know, we have a lot of really good customers who we’ve known for years. The goal for so many people is to always grow and grow, but then, you have to think about, how far removed do you want to be from the thing you love doing and the things you want to be?
“I’d like to be big enough to feel stable, because you never do, but we don't have that kind of Dragon's Den view of growth, it just doesn’t appeal to us. Ten years ago, I might have pushed more for growth, but now I think it’s more important to have a nice life and enjoy what you do.”
You can blame breweries for gentrifying an area all you want, but I conclude my conversation with Pat feeling that Pilot hasn’t shaped Leith as much as it’s been shaped by Leith. I’d even go as far as to say that people love Pilot for the same reasons they are proud of Leith, a still rough-and-ready corner of the city, populated with people ranging from eccentric to mad, but who are also innovative, creative and kind, in their own no nonsense way. I leave the brewery with a keen sense of it having its priorities straight; namely that now is more precious than later, doing what you love is as important as doing it with good people, and sometimes, the seagull deserves it.
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