The internet’s most famous beer drinker gave this SF bar top marks

A hush fell over the mural-covered patio at Casements on Tuesday evening as the beer world’s newest social media megastar took a sip of Guinness. 

Speaking into his phone and with his back turned to the crowd, Jason Hackett, the portly British beer guru known as Prime Mutton, pronounced his verdict on the Mission bar’s pour of cascading Irish stout. “It’s a really good one, Muttonistas,” he said, addressing his cult of 164,000 transatlantic followers. “It’s an absolute creamer!”

The patio broke into a roar of laughter and approving cheers. A 55-year-old professional bridge player from Manchester, Prime Mutton has endeared himself to his laddish YouTube audience through approachable, suspender-clad enthusiasm for excellent pints of stout. In Muttonista parlance, “absolute creamer” is the equivalent of a gold medal.

It’s a deliberative business. When adjudicating Guinness, Prime Mutton adheres to the same ritual. He purchases one pint for YouTube, one for Instagram, and sometimes, one for him to enjoy privately. (Only then does he greet the fans.) He doesn’t drink at home, nor does he freely dole out absolute creamers. 

His American tour kicked off in early June and has included stops in Atlanta, New York, Boston, Chicago, and Orlando. On the San Francisco leg, only one other bar out of six or seven, Danny Coyle’s in the Haight, received the top honor. Barebottle Brewing’s St. Nitro Stout got a nod for its quality, however.

For Casements, this attests to the fact that the bar’s keg of Guinness shipped from Ireland was treated with care, stored at the proper temperature, and expertly poured into a 20-ounce, harp-branded glass. (British pints are, of course, a little bigger than their 16-ounce stateside pints.) And considering how quickly the mustachioed influencer has vaulted to the stout stratosphere, it’s become a coveted seal of approval across the U.K. and at Irish bars from Dublin to Bangkok. 

Co-owner Gillian Fitzgerald, who presented the Guinness to Prime Mutton with an anxious reverence, likened the moment to winning the Gaelic football championship. “This is the scariest thing that’s happened to me since my dad came in two years ago,” Fitzgerald said, adding that she’d texted her parents even though it was about 4:30 a.m. in Ireland. 

Prime Mutton offered some insight into his decision. Casements’ Guinness was slightly more bitter than what you get in Ireland, he said, but not excessively so, “like some pints I’ve been getting in some parts of the U.S.” A further testament to its excellence was in how fast he finished his first one. “So instead of having two pints, I’m going to have three.” 

Balance, he said, is key. Too much bitterness will crowd out Guinness’ coffee and chocolate flavors. It’s also what makes stout a poor companion to a Mission burrito, something Prime Mutton ate on several previous trips to SF. This time out, he was craving cioppino and a glass of California chardonnay, but didn’t think there was time for such an indulgence.

In a world of sculpted influencers with perfect smiles, Hackett stands distinctly apart, with his floppy hats and prodigious paunch. And unlike so much of the manosphere, with its reactionary politics and air of grievance, he strikes many fans as a decent guy.

“He just seems like a genuine soul,” said Cam Streeter, who was waiting with members of his rugby team to take pictures with their hero. “How can you not want to drink a beer with him?”

The name of their group chat? “Absolute Creamers,” he said.