The National Winter Ales Festival (often shortened to NWAF) is a yearly event organised by the Campaign for Real Ale (CAMRA). The purpose of the event is to showcase the best winter ales (for example stouts and porters) in the UK. It was started in 1997 to give more exposure to these styles of beer as they are often not available during the summer when its sister festival, the larger Great British Beer Festival, is held. NWAF is home to the Champion Winter Beer of Britain awards.
The festival is generally held in January of each year; however there were two festivals in 1997, one at each end of the year. The first one gave the awards for 1996/7 and the second for 1997/8; there was no festival in 1998. The 2011 festival was held January 19–22.
Read more about National Winter Ales Festival: Venues
Famous quotes containing the words national, winter and/or festival:
“The religion of England is part of good-breeding. When you see on the continent the well-dressed Englishman come into his ambassador’s chapel and put his face for silent prayer into his smooth-brushed hat, you cannot help feeling how much national pride prays with him, and the religion of a gentleman.”
—Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803–1882)
“Every winter the liquid and trembling surface of the pond, which was so sensitive to every breath, and reflected every light and shadow, becomes solid to the depth of a foot or a foot and a half, so that it will support the heaviest teams, and perchance the snow covers it to an equal depth, and it is not to be distinguished from any level field. Like the marmots in the surrounding hills, it closes its eyelids and becomes dormant for three months or more.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“Don’t you know there are 200 temperance women in this county who control 200 votes. Why does a woman work for temperance? Because she’s tired of liftin’ that besotted mate of hers off the floor every Saturday night and puttin’ him on the sofa so he won’t catch cold. Tonight we’re for temperance. Help yourself to them cloves and chew them, chew them hard. We’re goin’ to that festival tonight smelling like a hot mince pie.”
—Laurence Stallings (1894–1968)