Hullaguffaw,
Bottle Conditioned Beers, eh? What are they?
As someone who worked in a specialist off licence in the nineties and early noughties, I have to say my opinion of the same is not very high. As I mentioned in early posts, I was aware then and still, perhaps to a lesser extent, now, about a kind of "if it's got yeast in it the beer will be fine" approach, in what I have to say in too many occasions, were beers which seemed like they were produced by hobby bottlers.
Don't get me wrong - there were breweries, such as Marstons, the now long gone Eldridge Pope and King & Barnes, Harveys, Theakstons and surprisingly, the early noughties productions of White Shield, who managed to do perfectly and often admirably well at the style. But through perhaps a lack of knowledge about yeast and hand bottling and length of excellent flavours, storage, pourage and batch testing, I have to admit that eventually, I got fed up with trying bottle conditioned ales, or BCA's. Even recently when WF last went up to Scotland, as well as on his every trip down south, he still came back with small batch BCA's from everywhere - leading to unintentionally cloudy, exploding, unintentionally sour, lumpy and often piss pooer brews. Strange then, that I bought a BCA from Dronfield Beer Stop recently. Stranger too, that I enjoyed it.
I had seen on Faceache much mention of Eyam brewery beers, mainly at the Joiners arms (I think) in Bakewell. I still haven't been drinking in Bakewell since that place opened, and likewise I haven't tried any Eyam beers. I ordered a number of cans and two bottled German beers along with a single Eyam bottle of All Fall Down, described as a "Full boddied IPA". Since it was 6.5%, my usual starting strength, I figured it should be worth a try. And then I read the ingredients.
Its interesting to make this point, because as well as some breweries suggesting, either clearly or implicitly, that they don't list the hops yeast and malts used because they don't want other people to copy their output, that also I had come to appreciate the new outcomes of describing the flavour and aroma and appearance of their beers now I was used to it, so that a simple list of the same should cause me to worry. However, as with when I tried a selection of Lidl or Adi craft style beers almost all containing Crystal malt, and the predominence of the same, which stirred up some poor memories of beers tried in the nineties, I therefore have to admit that I still worry about the reliance upon and perhaps the usage of certain hops, and at the end of the day, all types of ingredient. So I found the list quite disappointing....
Solely for the purpose of this article, the beer featured the following:
Pacific Jade, Fuggles, Cascade, and Styrian Wolf hops. Now I don't possess any fear of Pacific jade, but I am not aware that its renowned for it's fruity bitterness. Fuggles, whilst good in green hop beers (I kid you not) is a very traditional flavour, Cascade can be good, but that often depends on whether its British or American, and Styrian Wolf reminds me of Styrian Goldings - see all of the above. I did note further down that it mentioned yeast, and I did appreciate this, and although there was what I can describe as a BCA aroma, there was definite bitterness in there, and on tasting it, quite a good blend of the same, along with mildly citrussy flavours.
Whats more, despite it's high gravity amongst similar styles of more traditional beers, I have to admit, it went down like pop. And actually, as I continued, neither of these two crucial aspects diminished, meaning I finished the glass a pleased and pleasantly surprised chap.
I should point out by the way, as people who know me should already be aware, that I started bowze drinking on traditional beer - Castle Eden Ale and Whitbread Trophy no less. And as current drinking companions will also know, I do like to start on cask from the past and later move onto kegs and cans of DIPAs and the like, thereafter. Its a number of decades since I have walked into a pub and thought - ooooh, a nice 3.6% traditional bitter would suit me lovely thanks - but whilst of course not the same, there are connections to that same beer style in this.
The final point to make is that as a result of the ongoing horror of non pubbing in which we currently flail, I wouldn't otherwise order such products from Sheffield or nearby beer establishments. And I can point out that every other of the number of beers I have thus far had, almost entirely in can (bar a mini keg of Abbeydale Voyager IPA) have likewise been absolutely wonderful.
So don't worry all - this self isolation has not changed my tastes and appreciation of all beers. Instead it has simply reminded me that features of the beer styles I usually avoid at all costs can also be combined with more modern ingredients, to produce excellent beer.
Well done to Eyam Brewery for this excellent brew. - the first bottle conditioned beer I have enjoyed for many a year!
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
Showing posts with label Bottle conditioned ale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bottle conditioned ale. Show all posts
Thursday, 9 April 2020
Sunday, 5 August 2018
Remember when beer was bottle conditioned?
Evenin,
I wondered if many of the readers of this blog under the age of 30 know of or less likely still have tried, and even less likely still, have enjoyed, a bottle conditioned ale?
I had a chat back in March with one of the brewers from Northern Monk (it may have been April) about putting bottle conditioned beers in the fridge to reduce its liveliness, and then opening it cold and allowing it to return to room temperature. He seemed concerned. What bottle conditioned beer are you drinking nowadays? I had to think.....Durham Temptation I replied. He seemed to think that was the only one likely to be any good. He is probably right. And its three years since I last had one. I may have met them in May. These are just months after all....
In 1995 I started working at Archer Road Beer Stop, Sheffield's first real ale off license, then just changed from Small Beer, as Davefromtshop had taken over. In 1995 I believed that bottle conditioning was the future of beer. I know. Don't judge me. And this was despite a horror show of evidence to the contrary. If putting live yeast in a cask and expecting strangers in multiple venues to know how to keep it and to avoid multitudinous naturally occurring happenstances that may ruin a beer is risky, then doing the same with a bottle is surely madness.
Then there were the rules. Chill it first, open it col.d Certain beers, such as Burton Bridge Empire Pale Ale, needed chilling for a day, and then to be poured into two steins to hold the froth. Much beer had issues with the yeast used (who chooses to put yeast in a beer that you can't drink?) which would either die, go rank through other issues such as light or temperature, and then needed to be poured away. Usually with the rest of the contents of the bottle. Apart from King and Barnes and Marstons, and the ever so lively Burton Bridge, oh, and Durham, most bottle conditioned ale, or BCA, was to be avoided at all costs.
Although the Belgians seem to know what they are doing with it.....
This realisation of the pooernes of BCA in part prompted me to write the following post here. All the way back in 2012. Having thought carefully about it I reckon there may only have been a handful of bottled beers, all aged, and very few purchased, that were BCAs, thereafter. And that isn't all down to the horrors of the Corvedale or Litton brewery bottled beers, all of which were senselessly bad.
Its mainly because, as of 2014 or 2015 when I first tried "modern" beer in a can, I have recognised that the type of beer I like to drink tastes better in a can. Nobody wants a BCA soupy IPA. Some such beers are bottled but very clearly implore you to drink fresh - spot on advice. I want to drink the freshest beer with the hops at their prime. And the likes of Citra, Mosaic and Centennial do seem to have extra citrus bitterness when freshly mashed. So gerrit supped!
I do still have couple of old beers that I intend to drink, and some that, unlike most of my collection, may in fact be worth something so won't be opened, although that is a narrow market am sure. My 1994 Thomas Hardy Ale is reaching maturity next year and will be shared. The difference there is, the style is suited to ageing, and the yeast also. Its a work of art. It may not have a whole bagful of zesty hops but it will still be an interesting and hopefully enjoyable drop.
Apart from Durham, am struggling to think of breweries whose beers I like that I know still produce BCAs. Are BCAs dead? No. And for different reasons, not all positive. They don't however end up in my monthly beer shop nowadays, with far far better potations on offer in can.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy.
I wondered if many of the readers of this blog under the age of 30 know of or less likely still have tried, and even less likely still, have enjoyed, a bottle conditioned ale?
I had a chat back in March with one of the brewers from Northern Monk (it may have been April) about putting bottle conditioned beers in the fridge to reduce its liveliness, and then opening it cold and allowing it to return to room temperature. He seemed concerned. What bottle conditioned beer are you drinking nowadays? I had to think.....Durham Temptation I replied. He seemed to think that was the only one likely to be any good. He is probably right. And its three years since I last had one. I may have met them in May. These are just months after all....
In 1995 I started working at Archer Road Beer Stop, Sheffield's first real ale off license, then just changed from Small Beer, as Davefromtshop had taken over. In 1995 I believed that bottle conditioning was the future of beer. I know. Don't judge me. And this was despite a horror show of evidence to the contrary. If putting live yeast in a cask and expecting strangers in multiple venues to know how to keep it and to avoid multitudinous naturally occurring happenstances that may ruin a beer is risky, then doing the same with a bottle is surely madness.
Then there were the rules. Chill it first, open it col.d Certain beers, such as Burton Bridge Empire Pale Ale, needed chilling for a day, and then to be poured into two steins to hold the froth. Much beer had issues with the yeast used (who chooses to put yeast in a beer that you can't drink?) which would either die, go rank through other issues such as light or temperature, and then needed to be poured away. Usually with the rest of the contents of the bottle. Apart from King and Barnes and Marstons, and the ever so lively Burton Bridge, oh, and Durham, most bottle conditioned ale, or BCA, was to be avoided at all costs.
Although the Belgians seem to know what they are doing with it.....
This realisation of the pooernes of BCA in part prompted me to write the following post here. All the way back in 2012. Having thought carefully about it I reckon there may only have been a handful of bottled beers, all aged, and very few purchased, that were BCAs, thereafter. And that isn't all down to the horrors of the Corvedale or Litton brewery bottled beers, all of which were senselessly bad.
Its mainly because, as of 2014 or 2015 when I first tried "modern" beer in a can, I have recognised that the type of beer I like to drink tastes better in a can. Nobody wants a BCA soupy IPA. Some such beers are bottled but very clearly implore you to drink fresh - spot on advice. I want to drink the freshest beer with the hops at their prime. And the likes of Citra, Mosaic and Centennial do seem to have extra citrus bitterness when freshly mashed. So gerrit supped!
I do still have couple of old beers that I intend to drink, and some that, unlike most of my collection, may in fact be worth something so won't be opened, although that is a narrow market am sure. My 1994 Thomas Hardy Ale is reaching maturity next year and will be shared. The difference there is, the style is suited to ageing, and the yeast also. Its a work of art. It may not have a whole bagful of zesty hops but it will still be an interesting and hopefully enjoyable drop.
Apart from Durham, am struggling to think of breweries whose beers I like that I know still produce BCAs. Are BCAs dead? No. And for different reasons, not all positive. They don't however end up in my monthly beer shop nowadays, with far far better potations on offer in can.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy.
Tuesday, 28 January 2014
Drinking what I said I'd drink, and what happened.
Hello,
as reward for her covering my stint at the NGH I decided to treat Miss N, and lets face it, Mi Sen, to a trio of aged or otherwise interesting beers that I had around the house. In the end, we tried 4. The weakest was 8% and all of them came with the weight of expectation upon them. There were contrasts, conundrums and contention. And, as is only right, there was a winner.
The first beer we tried was Durham Brewery Something Blue. This was a 10% bottle conditioned beer brewed to celebrate someone's wedding or something. I had bought it and laboured for a few years under the delusion that keeping it, with its noteworthy provenance, may make it a sought after item in years to come. In the end, after a frank and searching exploration of the merits of such an undertaking, I couldn't be arsed.
The beer had a lovely ruby colour to it and an aroma of marmalade and something vaguely but not unpleasantly woody. Miss N considered the malt predominated, and described it as a great big malt comfort blanket. There was quite a lot of carbonation, and taste wise it had a noticeable bitter aftertaste, some malt flavours that reminded me of a Belgian yeast influence, and an initial sweetness that gave way to quite a dry finish. It said on the label that there were fuggles hops in the brew, and there was something of that pungency that comes to the fore when you drink green hop fuggles beers ,but crucially all these tastes combined perfectly. And it didn't really taste or drink like it was 10%.
Next up was the wild card. The Something Blue had a couple of years on its best before date but our next beer didn't even have one. Nor, indeed, did it have anything so superfluous as a description. Or even an ABV.
Courage 1977 Jubilee Ale was a bit of a gamble to say the least. Beer rarely excels after more than 25 years in the bottle, less so 30 years, but this was asking for trouble, having likely been brewed around the beginning of 1977 in time for the jubilee some months later. Would it even be beer?
In terms of appearance it had a very pleasing silver foil cover over the cap and had purple coronets printed on the foil on the neck, and there was 275ml of it. Taking the top off the bottle there was no carbonation whatsoever - a hardly unforgivable state of affairs, given its age. What there was aroma wise didn't disappoint however. A huge blast of sherry. Sweetness, but crucially no off aromas.
Storage is the key with aged bottled beers. I once bought a 26 year old bottle of Charles and Diana Royal Wedding Ale form Greenwich market and should have paid attention to where it was stored - since all the vendors wares appeared to be locked in a metal container and the bottle itself was standing in a metal drawer. As it was, the beer had plenty of suggestions of what it should have tasted like but predominantly tasted of metal. In this case, bearing in mind I was sacrificing this as I had two bottles, I probably opened the well kept one - because it didn't taste of anything but sherry, malt and, if you tried really hard, hops.
One interesting feature, and I don't know what the proper term is, was that it seemed to have "split". After the strong alcoholic punch of sweet malt and other flavours, there appeared to be water at the end. Almost as if the beer was 90% of the content and the rest of the bottle was water. As we drank more there also appeared to be a caramel flavour which I associate with aged or out of date bottled beers, and once you got past the waft of sherry there was an interesting aroma of leather - again, unlikely to be a positive feature, but interesting nonetheless. Miss N thought its basic flavour characteristics, bottle label design and gentlemen's club mustiness made it seem very much of the age in which it was brewed. Overall though, it was fascinating to try.
Our third beer was to have been the last. We let bias and the gaunt spectre of expectation trick us into thinking we'd need to pour the jubilee ale away and that our saviour would be the Ilkley Brewery Worlds End, an 18 year old whisky barrel aged version of the Mayan Chipotle chocolate porter. All the ingredients were there - Ilkley's pedigree, chilli, chocolate, dark beer and whisky. This had to be the winner. Except it wasn't.
I really enjoyed the Mayan and just as much appreciated the Magic Rock Chipotle Punchline earlier last week. So imagine my disappointment at encountering a lack of fire, and a distinct lack of any balance. Things didn't start that well with an aroma of wood, burnt malt and phenols from the whisky. The first taste was promisingly peaty, earthy as well, and then I expected the chocolate to balance it out and the bite of the chipotle to zip on the tongue with the malt and hop flavours, but that didn't happen. The peat was actually quite harsh and the chocolate non existent, and even after adding the yeast it was still difficult to drink. The aftertaste was almost acrid and the longer the drink went on the more we could smell peat. We had made a crucial error in assuming that this would be the winner before we started. So now we needed another beer.
Its fair to say that the quandary of shall I shan't I regarding keeping bottled beers of strength crops up quite a lot - over the last 18 months the stunning Thornbridge and Brooklyn Alliance bottles I'd kept since 2007 rewarded me richly, suggesting that there were benefits to the aging process. So surely I could dip into another from my collection...
One of the bottles I'd kept had a surprisingly short best before date on given its 10% strength. And having been impressed over the years by their Temptation and since we enjoyed the Something Blue, it seemed like a good idea to drink a bottle of Durham Brewery Decade, brewed to celebrate their 10th anniversary. Presumably before 2006, since that was its best before date. I was going to prove them wrong - it was going to be ace.
Lessons that go unlearned are a matter for some frustration I find and the Decade was no different. Initially the signs were very promising - even though the beer was 8 years out of date the lovely sweet malt aromas that escaped from the bottle suggested a hugely satisfying beer. However, the proof of the matter was in the difference between the aroma and the taste. There wasn't a difference. It tasted exactly as it smelled, and although it smelled inviting, you can't identify all of the complex flavours that go to make up and ultimately balance a beer in the aroma alone.
A reflection of the lack of complexity is the brevity of my notes. My notes are quite concise. "Smells sweet. Tastes very sweet. Strange aftertaste. Reminds me of the sweetness of De Dolle Stille Nacht without the soft Belgian yeast". That was it.
So, what we learned is, being out of date is no reason to write a bottled beer off. Neither is it a reason to hope to enjoy drinking it. Meanwhile, reputations count for nothing, because even the best make mistakes, and sometimes you can't get better than what you started with. So Durham's accomplished Something Blue was the winner.
Now don't get me started on expectation again....
Cheers!
Wee Beefy.
as reward for her covering my stint at the NGH I decided to treat Miss N, and lets face it, Mi Sen, to a trio of aged or otherwise interesting beers that I had around the house. In the end, we tried 4. The weakest was 8% and all of them came with the weight of expectation upon them. There were contrasts, conundrums and contention. And, as is only right, there was a winner.
The first beer we tried was Durham Brewery Something Blue. This was a 10% bottle conditioned beer brewed to celebrate someone's wedding or something. I had bought it and laboured for a few years under the delusion that keeping it, with its noteworthy provenance, may make it a sought after item in years to come. In the end, after a frank and searching exploration of the merits of such an undertaking, I couldn't be arsed.
The beer had a lovely ruby colour to it and an aroma of marmalade and something vaguely but not unpleasantly woody. Miss N considered the malt predominated, and described it as a great big malt comfort blanket. There was quite a lot of carbonation, and taste wise it had a noticeable bitter aftertaste, some malt flavours that reminded me of a Belgian yeast influence, and an initial sweetness that gave way to quite a dry finish. It said on the label that there were fuggles hops in the brew, and there was something of that pungency that comes to the fore when you drink green hop fuggles beers ,but crucially all these tastes combined perfectly. And it didn't really taste or drink like it was 10%.
Next up was the wild card. The Something Blue had a couple of years on its best before date but our next beer didn't even have one. Nor, indeed, did it have anything so superfluous as a description. Or even an ABV.
Courage 1977 Jubilee Ale was a bit of a gamble to say the least. Beer rarely excels after more than 25 years in the bottle, less so 30 years, but this was asking for trouble, having likely been brewed around the beginning of 1977 in time for the jubilee some months later. Would it even be beer?
In terms of appearance it had a very pleasing silver foil cover over the cap and had purple coronets printed on the foil on the neck, and there was 275ml of it. Taking the top off the bottle there was no carbonation whatsoever - a hardly unforgivable state of affairs, given its age. What there was aroma wise didn't disappoint however. A huge blast of sherry. Sweetness, but crucially no off aromas.
Storage is the key with aged bottled beers. I once bought a 26 year old bottle of Charles and Diana Royal Wedding Ale form Greenwich market and should have paid attention to where it was stored - since all the vendors wares appeared to be locked in a metal container and the bottle itself was standing in a metal drawer. As it was, the beer had plenty of suggestions of what it should have tasted like but predominantly tasted of metal. In this case, bearing in mind I was sacrificing this as I had two bottles, I probably opened the well kept one - because it didn't taste of anything but sherry, malt and, if you tried really hard, hops.
One interesting feature, and I don't know what the proper term is, was that it seemed to have "split". After the strong alcoholic punch of sweet malt and other flavours, there appeared to be water at the end. Almost as if the beer was 90% of the content and the rest of the bottle was water. As we drank more there also appeared to be a caramel flavour which I associate with aged or out of date bottled beers, and once you got past the waft of sherry there was an interesting aroma of leather - again, unlikely to be a positive feature, but interesting nonetheless. Miss N thought its basic flavour characteristics, bottle label design and gentlemen's club mustiness made it seem very much of the age in which it was brewed. Overall though, it was fascinating to try.
Our third beer was to have been the last. We let bias and the gaunt spectre of expectation trick us into thinking we'd need to pour the jubilee ale away and that our saviour would be the Ilkley Brewery Worlds End, an 18 year old whisky barrel aged version of the Mayan Chipotle chocolate porter. All the ingredients were there - Ilkley's pedigree, chilli, chocolate, dark beer and whisky. This had to be the winner. Except it wasn't.
I really enjoyed the Mayan and just as much appreciated the Magic Rock Chipotle Punchline earlier last week. So imagine my disappointment at encountering a lack of fire, and a distinct lack of any balance. Things didn't start that well with an aroma of wood, burnt malt and phenols from the whisky. The first taste was promisingly peaty, earthy as well, and then I expected the chocolate to balance it out and the bite of the chipotle to zip on the tongue with the malt and hop flavours, but that didn't happen. The peat was actually quite harsh and the chocolate non existent, and even after adding the yeast it was still difficult to drink. The aftertaste was almost acrid and the longer the drink went on the more we could smell peat. We had made a crucial error in assuming that this would be the winner before we started. So now we needed another beer.
Its fair to say that the quandary of shall I shan't I regarding keeping bottled beers of strength crops up quite a lot - over the last 18 months the stunning Thornbridge and Brooklyn Alliance bottles I'd kept since 2007 rewarded me richly, suggesting that there were benefits to the aging process. So surely I could dip into another from my collection...
One of the bottles I'd kept had a surprisingly short best before date on given its 10% strength. And having been impressed over the years by their Temptation and since we enjoyed the Something Blue, it seemed like a good idea to drink a bottle of Durham Brewery Decade, brewed to celebrate their 10th anniversary. Presumably before 2006, since that was its best before date. I was going to prove them wrong - it was going to be ace.
Lessons that go unlearned are a matter for some frustration I find and the Decade was no different. Initially the signs were very promising - even though the beer was 8 years out of date the lovely sweet malt aromas that escaped from the bottle suggested a hugely satisfying beer. However, the proof of the matter was in the difference between the aroma and the taste. There wasn't a difference. It tasted exactly as it smelled, and although it smelled inviting, you can't identify all of the complex flavours that go to make up and ultimately balance a beer in the aroma alone.
A reflection of the lack of complexity is the brevity of my notes. My notes are quite concise. "Smells sweet. Tastes very sweet. Strange aftertaste. Reminds me of the sweetness of De Dolle Stille Nacht without the soft Belgian yeast". That was it.
So, what we learned is, being out of date is no reason to write a bottled beer off. Neither is it a reason to hope to enjoy drinking it. Meanwhile, reputations count for nothing, because even the best make mistakes, and sometimes you can't get better than what you started with. So Durham's accomplished Something Blue was the winner.
Now don't get me started on expectation again....
Cheers!
Wee Beefy.
Saturday, 18 January 2014
Subtle heavyweights
Now then,
over the last couple of weeks, as befits the cold wet slog of January, I've treated myself to one or two "luxuries" in the way of beers. Somehow the grim reality of coming back to work, the constantly wet feet and the dank wet washing aromas in your house, combine to persuade you that actually, you've bloody well earned a bottle - or more expensively a pint - of something strong. And recently, two such examples have particularly stood out.
The other night I was going home like a good boy to make some warming food and get an early night. No frol would pass my lips, no bar would see my money, and I'd be rested for another day pushing the dead-weight round the horse gin of failure. Or working for the civil services, as ts otherwise known. Despite these noble abstentions plans, I discovered Miss N and Matty were in the Sheffield Tap and it was suggested I might join them for one, on my way home. The Sheffield Tap is not on my way home. And one wasn't an option.
Matty had ordered me a delicious pint of Magic Rock High Wire NZ on cask so this was a pretty good start, and formed part of another night ending line up, like you see now and again at the Tap. The High Wire didn't hang around, and with my eye on the Dark Arts I was contemplating a slow, careful clamber up the ABVs to the Tapped Brew Co's excellent Roulette Imperial Stout. However, despite being able to have independent thoughts and make rational choices all of my own, when Matty asked me what I thought about the idea of having an imperial double vanilla stout at about a million percent. and despite my brain saying "No! That's madness!" my lips made other shapes and I seemed to have agreed.
I may have mentioned before that my initial opinion on Hardknott brewery was that, for whatever reason, they were weighed down by a lot of hype. I reckoned I ought to love their brews based on their excellent label designs, innovative brews and, well, I admit, their repute among my peers, but it wasn't until last year when I tried their Infra Red that I started to "get them". That night, I done gone and got completely got. Because Hardknott Vitesse Noir, perhaps absurdly, is already looking like the beer of 2014. Nurse - the screens!
If I'm right, having read a few reviews and Hardknott's website I think that Vitesse Noir is a triple imperial stout with vanilla chocolate and coffee. Now, initially there were numerous aspects to this beer that made me cautious. Not least its 11% strength, and the fact I was buying it in the Sheffield Tap, but also the prospect of the vanilla or chocolate being too overpowering and making it syrupy or cloying, or there being a burnt coffee bitterness that would wipe out the subtle sweeter and softer flavours. Luckily, with the exception of the price. none of these concerns were realised.
It was an incredibly smooth well balanced beer. Not a jarring roast malt or an overly sugary vanilla or chocolate hint to be found, this was just layers of perfectly balanced flavours enjoying each other's company in a glass. A precision crafted beer jigsaw where every piece had been made with care and passion. It was very very good indeed. Even considering that it was £152.96 a third at the Sheffield Tap*
Having assumed that the bar had been set well beyond the reach of any other beer I was quickly reminded that in an ever evolving and in my opinion improving beer scene, bars don't stay at one height forever. This week, after a lovely meal, cracking red wine and some admirable dark beers, I decided to open my bottle of Spire brewery Xtinguisher, a 12% barley wine.
One of the interesting observations about barley wine is that its a beer that never seems to sound as tempting as an imperial IPA or an imperial brown or a triple stout. This is not just a language or aesthetic consideration, I think this is a refection of the fact that when I first started drinking beer, stronger beers were, if I recall correctly, a bit, erm. Dumb? Huge sledgehammer morasses of lumbering malt and overwhelmed hops with sugar obliterating any flavour in the desperate chase for alcohol. Barley wine came in nip bottles, was inexpensive and therefore the choice tipple of wannabee outdoor lager enthusiasts, and had usually undergone a label revamp in 1975. In short it was so-o-o-o-not cool. So what would a brewery proud of producing some fairly traditional styles in it's range, do with a barley wine?
Well, the answer is succeed. With some aplomb. Despite being a few years old and starting off at a mere 12% the beer was disconcertingly easy to drink. Instead of the teeth tingling sweet honey flavours of other barley wines, there was a subtle Fullers like marmalade in the background which mingled perfectly with a sweet yet subtle mix of malts. Bottle conditioned, the beer was a great advert for why, when done right (must. not. discuss...crap...B.C.A.s.....) the conditioning can improve the beer brilliantly. The yeast added even greater complexity, and made the beer even easier to sup, and the carbonation was just right, creating a head the same size as you'd expect from a hand pulled pint.
The alcohol was also a factor, it was after all probably a smidgen above it's starting ABV, but the almost whisky punch was so delicate and sat so well with the marmalade and malt flavours in the body that not only did you feel like you were getting a treat, but you were able to tell that it was a strong beer commanding respect.
The above shows that even when you have a new beer at every turn and even when you have compiled a list of what you consider to be reliable breweries and beers, there are still surprises to be had, and expectations to be exceeded. There might not be huge similarities in terms of beer styles and online presence or even label designs to link Hardknott and Spire but both have created beers of exceptional quality which have illuminated nights where some very high quality beer was already being consumed.
Lets hope I encounter Vitesse Noir in a pub again soon - and that I can somehow get hold of another bottle of Xtinguisher to put away for a grim January night in 2018....
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
*Of course that would be ridiculous. The Sheffield Tap don't sell beer in thirds.....
over the last couple of weeks, as befits the cold wet slog of January, I've treated myself to one or two "luxuries" in the way of beers. Somehow the grim reality of coming back to work, the constantly wet feet and the dank wet washing aromas in your house, combine to persuade you that actually, you've bloody well earned a bottle - or more expensively a pint - of something strong. And recently, two such examples have particularly stood out.
The other night I was going home like a good boy to make some warming food and get an early night. No frol would pass my lips, no bar would see my money, and I'd be rested for another day pushing the dead-weight round the horse gin of failure. Or working for the civil services, as ts otherwise known. Despite these noble abstentions plans, I discovered Miss N and Matty were in the Sheffield Tap and it was suggested I might join them for one, on my way home. The Sheffield Tap is not on my way home. And one wasn't an option.
Matty had ordered me a delicious pint of Magic Rock High Wire NZ on cask so this was a pretty good start, and formed part of another night ending line up, like you see now and again at the Tap. The High Wire didn't hang around, and with my eye on the Dark Arts I was contemplating a slow, careful clamber up the ABVs to the Tapped Brew Co's excellent Roulette Imperial Stout. However, despite being able to have independent thoughts and make rational choices all of my own, when Matty asked me what I thought about the idea of having an imperial double vanilla stout at about a million percent. and despite my brain saying "No! That's madness!" my lips made other shapes and I seemed to have agreed.
I may have mentioned before that my initial opinion on Hardknott brewery was that, for whatever reason, they were weighed down by a lot of hype. I reckoned I ought to love their brews based on their excellent label designs, innovative brews and, well, I admit, their repute among my peers, but it wasn't until last year when I tried their Infra Red that I started to "get them". That night, I done gone and got completely got. Because Hardknott Vitesse Noir, perhaps absurdly, is already looking like the beer of 2014. Nurse - the screens!
If I'm right, having read a few reviews and Hardknott's website I think that Vitesse Noir is a triple imperial stout with vanilla chocolate and coffee. Now, initially there were numerous aspects to this beer that made me cautious. Not least its 11% strength, and the fact I was buying it in the Sheffield Tap, but also the prospect of the vanilla or chocolate being too overpowering and making it syrupy or cloying, or there being a burnt coffee bitterness that would wipe out the subtle sweeter and softer flavours. Luckily, with the exception of the price. none of these concerns were realised.
It was an incredibly smooth well balanced beer. Not a jarring roast malt or an overly sugary vanilla or chocolate hint to be found, this was just layers of perfectly balanced flavours enjoying each other's company in a glass. A precision crafted beer jigsaw where every piece had been made with care and passion. It was very very good indeed. Even considering that it was £152.96 a third at the Sheffield Tap*
Having assumed that the bar had been set well beyond the reach of any other beer I was quickly reminded that in an ever evolving and in my opinion improving beer scene, bars don't stay at one height forever. This week, after a lovely meal, cracking red wine and some admirable dark beers, I decided to open my bottle of Spire brewery Xtinguisher, a 12% barley wine.
One of the interesting observations about barley wine is that its a beer that never seems to sound as tempting as an imperial IPA or an imperial brown or a triple stout. This is not just a language or aesthetic consideration, I think this is a refection of the fact that when I first started drinking beer, stronger beers were, if I recall correctly, a bit, erm. Dumb? Huge sledgehammer morasses of lumbering malt and overwhelmed hops with sugar obliterating any flavour in the desperate chase for alcohol. Barley wine came in nip bottles, was inexpensive and therefore the choice tipple of wannabee outdoor lager enthusiasts, and had usually undergone a label revamp in 1975. In short it was so-o-o-o-not cool. So what would a brewery proud of producing some fairly traditional styles in it's range, do with a barley wine?
Well, the answer is succeed. With some aplomb. Despite being a few years old and starting off at a mere 12% the beer was disconcertingly easy to drink. Instead of the teeth tingling sweet honey flavours of other barley wines, there was a subtle Fullers like marmalade in the background which mingled perfectly with a sweet yet subtle mix of malts. Bottle conditioned, the beer was a great advert for why, when done right (must. not. discuss...crap...B.C.A.s.....) the conditioning can improve the beer brilliantly. The yeast added even greater complexity, and made the beer even easier to sup, and the carbonation was just right, creating a head the same size as you'd expect from a hand pulled pint.
The alcohol was also a factor, it was after all probably a smidgen above it's starting ABV, but the almost whisky punch was so delicate and sat so well with the marmalade and malt flavours in the body that not only did you feel like you were getting a treat, but you were able to tell that it was a strong beer commanding respect.
The above shows that even when you have a new beer at every turn and even when you have compiled a list of what you consider to be reliable breweries and beers, there are still surprises to be had, and expectations to be exceeded. There might not be huge similarities in terms of beer styles and online presence or even label designs to link Hardknott and Spire but both have created beers of exceptional quality which have illuminated nights where some very high quality beer was already being consumed.
Lets hope I encounter Vitesse Noir in a pub again soon - and that I can somehow get hold of another bottle of Xtinguisher to put away for a grim January night in 2018....
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
*Of course that would be ridiculous. The Sheffield Tap don't sell beer in thirds.....
Thursday, 24 January 2013
Oh dear. It seems CAMRA doesn't say this is real ale....
Hello,
the subject of the CAMRA campaign to, in essence, endorse a bottle conditioned beer as being just that is widely recognised to be a well meant disaster that is unhelpful and counterproductive. A slightly negative outlook perhaps, but as someone who has drunk and sold Bottle Conditioned Beers (BCA's) for years, I've had first hand experience of the toxic stock of affirming that something you can't hope to know the taste of is how you define real ale.
Not being a member of the CAMRA (you've seen the CAMRA) I decided to look at their website regarding the above subject here. To be fair, assuming you can get over the sloppiness that leads to them writing "bottle beers" instead of bottled beers, there is a lot more information and useful clarification than I was expecting.
It all sounds very positive and there are good reasons listed for supping a BCA. Disappointingly though, there is no mention of how a brewer gets their product stamped with the logo, and therefore no suggestion of a quality processes. And more damning is reason number 10 for drinking real ale in a bottle - that it tastes better.
To avoid going over old ground lets just remember that a lot of BCA, or, if you must, RAIB, tastes like drek. Sour, soupy, frothing, blobbing, earthy, tart murkiness that usually ends up making its final journey down your sink.
Against that backdrop its notable just how many breweries stick the logo on their bottle labels. What I hadn't thought about was, quite a lot don't. Why?
As you know, on Sunday I held a beer tasting at Beefy Towers (not sure about this moniker...) and we drank some stupendously good beer. What struck me today putting the empty bottles in the recycle bin (ooh get me!) was that only 2 of them carried the CAMRA logo. That, despite the fact that 9 of the 16 beers we drunk were bottle conditioned. Worse, but almost predictably so, the 2 that carried the logo were the least enjoyable of the night.
Admittedly I don't know when the logo started to be used so perhaps the 2006,2007 and 2008 Thornbridge and Fullers beers did not have it to use but Kernel's beers were all BCA as was Ilkley's. Fullers continue to produce their Vintage ale and I don't think I've spotted the CAMRA logo on it.
All sorts of contributory factors can lead to a BCA being a disappointment but in this line up the BCA's sporting the logo were the poor cousins of some impeccable bottled royalty.
Given the huge number of dire producers and products proudly informing the consumer that this is what CAMRA thinks beer should taste like (because its not immediately obvious that its an indicator of secondary fermentation) is it possible perhaps that Ilkley, Kernel and Thornbridge don't think the logo is necessary?
Or do they just not want to be associated with a white elephant concept synonymous with hobby bottlers and undrinkable beer?
Wee Beefy
the subject of the CAMRA campaign to, in essence, endorse a bottle conditioned beer as being just that is widely recognised to be a well meant disaster that is unhelpful and counterproductive. A slightly negative outlook perhaps, but as someone who has drunk and sold Bottle Conditioned Beers (BCA's) for years, I've had first hand experience of the toxic stock of affirming that something you can't hope to know the taste of is how you define real ale.
Not being a member of the CAMRA (you've seen the CAMRA) I decided to look at their website regarding the above subject here. To be fair, assuming you can get over the sloppiness that leads to them writing "bottle beers" instead of bottled beers, there is a lot more information and useful clarification than I was expecting.
It all sounds very positive and there are good reasons listed for supping a BCA. Disappointingly though, there is no mention of how a brewer gets their product stamped with the logo, and therefore no suggestion of a quality processes. And more damning is reason number 10 for drinking real ale in a bottle - that it tastes better.
To avoid going over old ground lets just remember that a lot of BCA, or, if you must, RAIB, tastes like drek. Sour, soupy, frothing, blobbing, earthy, tart murkiness that usually ends up making its final journey down your sink.
Against that backdrop its notable just how many breweries stick the logo on their bottle labels. What I hadn't thought about was, quite a lot don't. Why?
As you know, on Sunday I held a beer tasting at Beefy Towers (not sure about this moniker...) and we drank some stupendously good beer. What struck me today putting the empty bottles in the recycle bin (ooh get me!) was that only 2 of them carried the CAMRA logo. That, despite the fact that 9 of the 16 beers we drunk were bottle conditioned. Worse, but almost predictably so, the 2 that carried the logo were the least enjoyable of the night.
Admittedly I don't know when the logo started to be used so perhaps the 2006,2007 and 2008 Thornbridge and Fullers beers did not have it to use but Kernel's beers were all BCA as was Ilkley's. Fullers continue to produce their Vintage ale and I don't think I've spotted the CAMRA logo on it.
All sorts of contributory factors can lead to a BCA being a disappointment but in this line up the BCA's sporting the logo were the poor cousins of some impeccable bottled royalty.
Given the huge number of dire producers and products proudly informing the consumer that this is what CAMRA thinks beer should taste like (because its not immediately obvious that its an indicator of secondary fermentation) is it possible perhaps that Ilkley, Kernel and Thornbridge don't think the logo is necessary?
Or do they just not want to be associated with a white elephant concept synonymous with hobby bottlers and undrinkable beer?
Wee Beefy
Thursday, 4 October 2012
Hardy companions
Hello,
as you may know already from my post on Sunday, on Friday I got to try a bottle of aged Thomas Hardy Ale which was a fantastic privilege and a great experience. However, you don't just wander aimlessly into a plus 12% matured beer, there needs to be a bibulous pre amble. And so it was; Davefromtshop had carefully selected a few bottles, as had I, to try before and after the main event, the details of which are below.
We started low, as is always the best plan, with a beer I had lovingly carted back from Crete, Craft Black lager. I knew what to expect as I'd had a few bottles in On the Rocks but it was a first for Dave. The beer is, as you would expect, black, with a nice head of neat white bubbles and an incredibly intense sweetness that takes you back a bit at first. However, whilst its not subtle, and initially you could be forgiven for worrying that it would be too sweet, the flavours mellow out as you drink and it turns out to be an interesting, enjoyable, if unsophisticated drop.
Up next was Belfast Blues, from Birrificio Indipendente Elav. This is described as a bitter, which seems strange coming from Italy. I recognise, of course, that there is much new in the Italian beer scene so am not going to suggest that I expected a lager, but what we got was something really surprising and interesting. The beer is bottle conditioned (I think it certainly retains a yeast sediment) and was difficult to pour clear. Its also lively, although it would have probably benefited from being a little chilled on both flavour and carbonation fronts.
It was bitter, yes, but in a dry hoppy way, more pale ale rather than trad bitter, with a a wonderful herby aftertaste. Adding the yeast makes the beer easier to quaff and balances the bitterness better leaving a fantastic beer. A great introduction to the brewery's beer.
Next up was the Chiltern 30th anniversary ale. We tried it last time and were fairly underwhelmed, this time it was nearer its best before date and so had longer to mature. On opening it, despite my having taken it all the way from home on the bus, it didn't explode, although there was a fair champagne sounding pop, and it immediately smelt incredibly rich and strong in alcohol.
The aroma reminded me of a strong stout in some ways, but maybe a Fullers Vintage. Either way it was confusing, because the copper brown beer in fact had no such taste. Interestingly though, this older bottle had a very subtle edge to it that the younger one didn't, a kind of pleasant cherry flavour which worked really well with the dry bitterness and warming mouthfeel. Quite a puzzle of a beer, but much nearer to the excellence we had anticipated in the bottle we tried earlier in the year.
The Birrificio Indipendente Elav Indie Ale was up next, an "independent beer" which also carried a sediment but which we had no problem leaving in the bottle. Initial tastes were harsh - incredibly dry bitterness, not matched by much other flavours, almost metallic, and quite thin. So we added the yeast. It only heightened the ascorbic taste! It was strange, and not obvious what was being aimed for, the bitterness was impressive but it was neither an IPA or a indeed any other identifiable style, and its independent taste didn't help it to shine. A hop too far I think.
A totally different beer next, the last that I brought from home, Thornbridge Evenlode Brown Porter. This is a beer I remember trying on draught at the Hallamshire House and enjoying. It was a while ago, and to be honest I was quite surprised to read on the label that it was matured on blackberries, but it was too long ago to say for definite that I hadn't picked up on that from the cask.
I needn't have worried though. The blackberry taste came through well, not too strong or overpowering, and melded with and complemented the brown malty porter brilliantly. Its certainly an unusual taste, but incredibly well balanced, a really subtle blend of flavours that gives an interesting new angle to the porter style - especially with an interest developing in sour stouts. After a few bum offerings from Thornbridge on cask of late this as a reminder of what they do well.
On the night our next beer was the coveted Thomas hardy Ale, after which we needed something at the exact opposite end of the flavour spectrum to compete with its strong tasting signature. Dave had been given a very large bottle of Hop-Ruiter, described as a blonde hoppy beer, and brewed in Belgium by Dutch brewers Scheldebrouwerij, so we shared that. It was suggested that they brewed the beer in Belgium because it would attract more praise as Belgium is well regarded as a brewing country. I'm not sure I could attach too much reliability either to the claim that this formed part of their thinking, or the insinuation that Dutch beer isn't well regarded, but either way, maybe one of those factors has influenced the unevenness of this rather puzzling ensemble.
Hop-Ruiter uses Belgian yeast and that is noticeable in the aroma and taste, its not particularly blonde, but Jesus wept its hoppy. Here though is s similar problem to the Indie Ale - its so dry and ascorbic you can't really get the benefit of the Belgian yeast or indeed any of the other flavours, such as the fruity notes that such yeast helps to showcase. Its just a big dry hoppy bitter beer, with little that stands out apart from the nagging questions it begs about what they may have intended.
That said, its quite hard following an even slightly past its best Thomas Hardy Ale, so maybe I need to try this one again. We both agreed that the fact it was a much larger bottle than is normally on sale also didn't help, so I reserve judgement on this one.
The last beer of the night was selected to stand up to any previous flavours and aromas and indeed, expectations we might have encountered. Birrificio Indipendente Elav Techno double hopped IPA was exactly as we had expected, but perhaps in a better way than with their Indie Ale. Yes there was massive "assertive" hops, as label writers seem to like to say, but there were some subtleties in the overall flavour that brought out the best parts of the bite in the hops used.
It was a really satisfying, perhaps slightly challenging hop monster, but if I had a complaint it was that it maybe didn't have staying power - the initial thrill of tingly zesty hop was amazing but it didn't lead anywhere. Even the addition of yeast failed to make much impact.
Overall this was a night of great beers, some really interesting ones from new (or at least new to us) breweries and some rather incredible ones from those well established. Given that the Hardy's suffered from a minor but forgivable yeast malfunction, I think I would say that the joint best beers were the Belfast Blues and the Evenlode Porter on the night.
All I need to do now is start planning my festive treats by cracking a few examples from my collection. I'm very much looking forward to the return trip beer tasting at Chez Beefy in January 2013....
Wee Beefy
as you may know already from my post on Sunday, on Friday I got to try a bottle of aged Thomas Hardy Ale which was a fantastic privilege and a great experience. However, you don't just wander aimlessly into a plus 12% matured beer, there needs to be a bibulous pre amble. And so it was; Davefromtshop had carefully selected a few bottles, as had I, to try before and after the main event, the details of which are below.
We started low, as is always the best plan, with a beer I had lovingly carted back from Crete, Craft Black lager. I knew what to expect as I'd had a few bottles in On the Rocks but it was a first for Dave. The beer is, as you would expect, black, with a nice head of neat white bubbles and an incredibly intense sweetness that takes you back a bit at first. However, whilst its not subtle, and initially you could be forgiven for worrying that it would be too sweet, the flavours mellow out as you drink and it turns out to be an interesting, enjoyable, if unsophisticated drop.
Up next was Belfast Blues, from Birrificio Indipendente Elav. This is described as a bitter, which seems strange coming from Italy. I recognise, of course, that there is much new in the Italian beer scene so am not going to suggest that I expected a lager, but what we got was something really surprising and interesting. The beer is bottle conditioned (I think it certainly retains a yeast sediment) and was difficult to pour clear. Its also lively, although it would have probably benefited from being a little chilled on both flavour and carbonation fronts.
It was bitter, yes, but in a dry hoppy way, more pale ale rather than trad bitter, with a a wonderful herby aftertaste. Adding the yeast makes the beer easier to quaff and balances the bitterness better leaving a fantastic beer. A great introduction to the brewery's beer.
Next up was the Chiltern 30th anniversary ale. We tried it last time and were fairly underwhelmed, this time it was nearer its best before date and so had longer to mature. On opening it, despite my having taken it all the way from home on the bus, it didn't explode, although there was a fair champagne sounding pop, and it immediately smelt incredibly rich and strong in alcohol.
The aroma reminded me of a strong stout in some ways, but maybe a Fullers Vintage. Either way it was confusing, because the copper brown beer in fact had no such taste. Interestingly though, this older bottle had a very subtle edge to it that the younger one didn't, a kind of pleasant cherry flavour which worked really well with the dry bitterness and warming mouthfeel. Quite a puzzle of a beer, but much nearer to the excellence we had anticipated in the bottle we tried earlier in the year.
The Birrificio Indipendente Elav Indie Ale was up next, an "independent beer" which also carried a sediment but which we had no problem leaving in the bottle. Initial tastes were harsh - incredibly dry bitterness, not matched by much other flavours, almost metallic, and quite thin. So we added the yeast. It only heightened the ascorbic taste! It was strange, and not obvious what was being aimed for, the bitterness was impressive but it was neither an IPA or a indeed any other identifiable style, and its independent taste didn't help it to shine. A hop too far I think.
A totally different beer next, the last that I brought from home, Thornbridge Evenlode Brown Porter. This is a beer I remember trying on draught at the Hallamshire House and enjoying. It was a while ago, and to be honest I was quite surprised to read on the label that it was matured on blackberries, but it was too long ago to say for definite that I hadn't picked up on that from the cask.
I needn't have worried though. The blackberry taste came through well, not too strong or overpowering, and melded with and complemented the brown malty porter brilliantly. Its certainly an unusual taste, but incredibly well balanced, a really subtle blend of flavours that gives an interesting new angle to the porter style - especially with an interest developing in sour stouts. After a few bum offerings from Thornbridge on cask of late this as a reminder of what they do well.
On the night our next beer was the coveted Thomas hardy Ale, after which we needed something at the exact opposite end of the flavour spectrum to compete with its strong tasting signature. Dave had been given a very large bottle of Hop-Ruiter, described as a blonde hoppy beer, and brewed in Belgium by Dutch brewers Scheldebrouwerij, so we shared that. It was suggested that they brewed the beer in Belgium because it would attract more praise as Belgium is well regarded as a brewing country. I'm not sure I could attach too much reliability either to the claim that this formed part of their thinking, or the insinuation that Dutch beer isn't well regarded, but either way, maybe one of those factors has influenced the unevenness of this rather puzzling ensemble.
Hop-Ruiter uses Belgian yeast and that is noticeable in the aroma and taste, its not particularly blonde, but Jesus wept its hoppy. Here though is s similar problem to the Indie Ale - its so dry and ascorbic you can't really get the benefit of the Belgian yeast or indeed any of the other flavours, such as the fruity notes that such yeast helps to showcase. Its just a big dry hoppy bitter beer, with little that stands out apart from the nagging questions it begs about what they may have intended.
That said, its quite hard following an even slightly past its best Thomas Hardy Ale, so maybe I need to try this one again. We both agreed that the fact it was a much larger bottle than is normally on sale also didn't help, so I reserve judgement on this one.
The last beer of the night was selected to stand up to any previous flavours and aromas and indeed, expectations we might have encountered. Birrificio Indipendente Elav Techno double hopped IPA was exactly as we had expected, but perhaps in a better way than with their Indie Ale. Yes there was massive "assertive" hops, as label writers seem to like to say, but there were some subtleties in the overall flavour that brought out the best parts of the bite in the hops used.
It was a really satisfying, perhaps slightly challenging hop monster, but if I had a complaint it was that it maybe didn't have staying power - the initial thrill of tingly zesty hop was amazing but it didn't lead anywhere. Even the addition of yeast failed to make much impact.
Overall this was a night of great beers, some really interesting ones from new (or at least new to us) breweries and some rather incredible ones from those well established. Given that the Hardy's suffered from a minor but forgivable yeast malfunction, I think I would say that the joint best beers were the Belfast Blues and the Evenlode Porter on the night.
All I need to do now is start planning my festive treats by cracking a few examples from my collection. I'm very much looking forward to the return trip beer tasting at Chez Beefy in January 2013....
Wee Beefy
Sunday, 30 September 2012
Genius in a bottle?
Good evening,
Wednesday 1st July 1981 was a good day. I was 7 years old, probably doing something carefree in the garden, most likely involving a hosepipe or climbing frame, and it was probably sunny. It always was. That's a fact, using rose tinted glasses. To be fair, even if it wasn't sunny, it was certainly a good day for me because Davefromtshop graduanded in Bournemouth and purchased at least 2 bottles of Eldridge Pope Thomas hardy Ale, brewed on that date. We tried one in 2006 and it was astonishingly good. Kept for 25 years, as the bottle promised you could, the beer was in amazing condition.
One bottle remained, and it was getting to the point where Eldridge Pope'/s claims about it still being drinkable were seeming less likely. Dave mentioned to me a while back that he as looking forward to opening it and kindly asked if I'd like to partake of half the bottles contents. Unsurprisingly I said yes, and have been looking forward to the prospect ever since.
So 11,412 days after it was brewed, we hoped to find out if 01 July 1981 is still a date worth remembering, as we opened the second bottle.
I wasn't writing a blog in 2006, which is a shame because I don't have any written details about the taste or even appearance of the 25 year vintage, in order to make a clear comparison. All I can do is fossick through my obfuscate cupboard of beer memories to note a few things - like its colour, which was a beautiful chestnut orange (memories don't seem to wheedle out absurd sounding colour combinations it seems), that it was incredibly strong, that you could still taste the hops in amongst the overpowering alcoholic punch and that crucially the yeast was still alive, and doing its job.
We opened this one with trepidation. It fizzed, but it was more like a tiny cough and straight away we could tell the bottle was not carbonated as the brewer had intended. It smelled very similar to the last bottle, if that's even possible, with a huge sherry and slightly musty aroma in amongst an unsubtle blast of alcohol and , I swear this is true, leather. However, here the similarities with the 25 years old version ended.
It was a far darker colour. It tasted sharper, and there was no hint of hops. It even managed to taste slightly musty, and also had the sherry flavour that was present in the George Gales Prize Old Ale. It was better than that though, really much more fruity and the strong alcohol flavour was faintly reminiscent of port. There wa also just enough sweeteness to balance it out, similar to the taste of barley sugar sweets
One really interesting feature was the bubbles. We had poured the beer quickly into each glass to teases some otherwise missing carbonation from the brew. They were a really beautiful white, really large in size and they didn't seem to disappear as we drank. Taking a close up in the glass, with the bubbles grouped round teh sides, the image below nicely shows the beer with a deep russet red colour, flanked by the sparkling pearl like bubbles.
We kept aside a small amount of the yeast, and we did actually add it at the very end. It was clear from the less harmonious flavours that the yeast had died. This was disappointing, but I think the yeast does pretty bloody well to last 25 years, which our previous bottle demonstrated it had.
There are, as with all live bottled beers, numerous factors that could have contributed to the yeasts demise and the slight spoiling of what is a truly incredible beer. I have tasted a 1 year old, 8 years old, 15 year old and a 25 year old prior to this. And I still can't say what the best age is to drink it given the myriad of possibilities that there are for how the beer could turn out. The 25 year old was amazing, but Dave mentioned that this bottle had been mistreated over the years, kept at different and unsuitable temperatures amongst other things, so perhaps the beer is drinkable aged 31, but only if its kept at a constant suitable temperature?
Who knows, but if you see a vintage for sale I would still recommend shelling out for it. I am still taken aback by how brilliant the 25 year old was, and the slightly off flavours in amongst the overwhelming vinous qualifies reminded me that this was probably only a random event away from being one of the best beers I ever tasted. So near, yet maybe a year or two too far.
Next year my oldest bottle turns 20. I only have two left now, and both are different vintages so I'm going to have them both at 25 years and hope for the best. Despite this minor upset, I am really looking forward to it.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
Wednesday 1st July 1981 was a good day. I was 7 years old, probably doing something carefree in the garden, most likely involving a hosepipe or climbing frame, and it was probably sunny. It always was. That's a fact, using rose tinted glasses. To be fair, even if it wasn't sunny, it was certainly a good day for me because Davefromtshop graduanded in Bournemouth and purchased at least 2 bottles of Eldridge Pope Thomas hardy Ale, brewed on that date. We tried one in 2006 and it was astonishingly good. Kept for 25 years, as the bottle promised you could, the beer was in amazing condition.
One bottle remained, and it was getting to the point where Eldridge Pope'/s claims about it still being drinkable were seeming less likely. Dave mentioned to me a while back that he as looking forward to opening it and kindly asked if I'd like to partake of half the bottles contents. Unsurprisingly I said yes, and have been looking forward to the prospect ever since.
So 11,412 days after it was brewed, we hoped to find out if 01 July 1981 is still a date worth remembering, as we opened the second bottle.
I wasn't writing a blog in 2006, which is a shame because I don't have any written details about the taste or even appearance of the 25 year vintage, in order to make a clear comparison. All I can do is fossick through my obfuscate cupboard of beer memories to note a few things - like its colour, which was a beautiful chestnut orange (memories don't seem to wheedle out absurd sounding colour combinations it seems), that it was incredibly strong, that you could still taste the hops in amongst the overpowering alcoholic punch and that crucially the yeast was still alive, and doing its job.
We opened this one with trepidation. It fizzed, but it was more like a tiny cough and straight away we could tell the bottle was not carbonated as the brewer had intended. It smelled very similar to the last bottle, if that's even possible, with a huge sherry and slightly musty aroma in amongst an unsubtle blast of alcohol and , I swear this is true, leather. However, here the similarities with the 25 years old version ended.
It was a far darker colour. It tasted sharper, and there was no hint of hops. It even managed to taste slightly musty, and also had the sherry flavour that was present in the George Gales Prize Old Ale. It was better than that though, really much more fruity and the strong alcohol flavour was faintly reminiscent of port. There wa also just enough sweeteness to balance it out, similar to the taste of barley sugar sweets
One really interesting feature was the bubbles. We had poured the beer quickly into each glass to teases some otherwise missing carbonation from the brew. They were a really beautiful white, really large in size and they didn't seem to disappear as we drank. Taking a close up in the glass, with the bubbles grouped round teh sides, the image below nicely shows the beer with a deep russet red colour, flanked by the sparkling pearl like bubbles.
We kept aside a small amount of the yeast, and we did actually add it at the very end. It was clear from the less harmonious flavours that the yeast had died. This was disappointing, but I think the yeast does pretty bloody well to last 25 years, which our previous bottle demonstrated it had.
There are, as with all live bottled beers, numerous factors that could have contributed to the yeasts demise and the slight spoiling of what is a truly incredible beer. I have tasted a 1 year old, 8 years old, 15 year old and a 25 year old prior to this. And I still can't say what the best age is to drink it given the myriad of possibilities that there are for how the beer could turn out. The 25 year old was amazing, but Dave mentioned that this bottle had been mistreated over the years, kept at different and unsuitable temperatures amongst other things, so perhaps the beer is drinkable aged 31, but only if its kept at a constant suitable temperature?
Who knows, but if you see a vintage for sale I would still recommend shelling out for it. I am still taken aback by how brilliant the 25 year old was, and the slightly off flavours in amongst the overwhelming vinous qualifies reminded me that this was probably only a random event away from being one of the best beers I ever tasted. So near, yet maybe a year or two too far.
Next year my oldest bottle turns 20. I only have two left now, and both are different vintages so I'm going to have them both at 25 years and hope for the best. Despite this minor upset, I am really looking forward to it.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
Tuesday, 11 September 2012
The Devil's in the detail
Morning,
I have to stifle a snigger when I read the phrase of the title because its one of many I have attributed to "management" at my employer, and is therefore, of course, to be used sarcastically, and to mock the inconsistencies of messages received from such people.
How apt then, that this cliche applies to bottle conditioned beer labelling, what I see plenty of.
I know from years of experience of Bottle Conditioned Beers (BCA), that there's a tried and tested formula to avoiding fountains, fobbing, foam and frustration. Admittedly this formula relies on the product being drinkable, and Christ, that's a whole other story, but for now I am concentrating on beers you can, or at least could, drink.
I usually chill the BCA in the fridge for half an hour, then let it come back to room temperature. That way its less lively on opening but can still be drunk less chilled if desired. Yet only recently have I noticed any suggestion on BCA bottle labels that the beer should be served cool, or that it could be lively. Here is a range of advice found across a number of excellent bottles, giving mixed messages to the consumer:
Brampton Winter Bock, one of the best bottled beers I tried this year, simply advises that for best results the beer should be "served cooled but not cold, at between 12 and 14 degrees Centigrade".
The Durham Jubilate India Pale Ale advises "Serve at 10 degrees C. This beer may be lively so have a glass to hand when opening". Their 2010 vintage of Temptation advises only "do not serve below 8 degrees C.", and the May 2007 vintage advises that to enjoy the full complexity of flavour it is "best not to chill".
Thornbridge Islay cask reserve stout, bottled 2006, advises only that you "store upright in a dark cool place and pour carefully". Their Alliance sherry cask strong ale, confirms that the bottle contains champagne yeast, and instructs the drinker to "age upright in a cool dark place and pour slowly to allow the natural sediment to remain in the bottle".
Dunham Massey Porter is significantly less verbose and states only that the beer should be served between 12-13 C.
Meanwhile Blue Anchor Spingo advises to "serve slightly chilled and pour with care".
George Gales Prize Old Ale advises "stand for some hours at room temperature" and then, "carefully withdraw the cork and pour slowly"
And finally, Penlon Stock Ram Stout, advises you put the bottle in the fridge for 30 minutes before opening as it is lively! Hurrah! Some decent advice at last! *
The problem with these mixed messages comes when a lack of info results in a poor drinking experience for the consumer. Because the only consistent message seems to be to drink at 8-14 degrees C., and to pour carefully. Only the Spingo (which is an unfailingly dire BCA) suggests chilling to any extent, along with the Penlon beers. The Gales advice is quite detailed, which is ironic, considering how unsophisticated their sherry like offering was, but crucially none of the stronger ales including those you are positively encouraged to age, make any proviso for the obvious result of natural carbonation from the live yeast. Why?
BCA is already a seriously maligned concept suffering from terrible practitioners and poor retailer knowledge. As this shows, a lack of useful labelling advice potentially exacerbates the problem. The label is the producers last chance to influence the consumer's drinking experience, so, whilst label space is limited, maybe include words along the lines of "this beer is conditioned naturally in the bottle and can be lively on opening. For best results please open the bottle chilled to reduce the carbonation. The beer can then be left to reach room temperature, allowing you to fully appreciate the flavours."?
OK, so there's no career for me writing succinct bottle instructions, but the label content is a manageable factor for producers in their products journey to the glass, and easier to control than elements such as the vagaries of staff and retailer knowledge.
Some BCA's don't need chilling. Very few. If chilling reduces the likelihood of more indefensible fountains of failure, then surely that's good advice to impart?
Wee Beefy
*amusingly, Wee Fatha keeps all his BCA's in his "chilled" hallway (non scientific, not always accurate). Without reading the Penlon label I went to open the bottle from the hall at the table, since, last time, there had been a war of attrition between me and Wee Keefy and Wee Fatha to persuade him to refrigerate a wheat beer, which he vehemently opposed as beer "shouldn't need to go in the fridge". And when the Penlon escaped in foam all over his table? He said " you should have put that in the fridge". Thanks for that. The Devil's in the detail it seems....
I have to stifle a snigger when I read the phrase of the title because its one of many I have attributed to "management" at my employer, and is therefore, of course, to be used sarcastically, and to mock the inconsistencies of messages received from such people.
How apt then, that this cliche applies to bottle conditioned beer labelling, what I see plenty of.
I know from years of experience of Bottle Conditioned Beers (BCA), that there's a tried and tested formula to avoiding fountains, fobbing, foam and frustration. Admittedly this formula relies on the product being drinkable, and Christ, that's a whole other story, but for now I am concentrating on beers you can, or at least could, drink.
I usually chill the BCA in the fridge for half an hour, then let it come back to room temperature. That way its less lively on opening but can still be drunk less chilled if desired. Yet only recently have I noticed any suggestion on BCA bottle labels that the beer should be served cool, or that it could be lively. Here is a range of advice found across a number of excellent bottles, giving mixed messages to the consumer:
Brampton Winter Bock, one of the best bottled beers I tried this year, simply advises that for best results the beer should be "served cooled but not cold, at between 12 and 14 degrees Centigrade".
The Durham Jubilate India Pale Ale advises "Serve at 10 degrees C. This beer may be lively so have a glass to hand when opening". Their 2010 vintage of Temptation advises only "do not serve below 8 degrees C.", and the May 2007 vintage advises that to enjoy the full complexity of flavour it is "best not to chill".
Thornbridge Islay cask reserve stout, bottled 2006, advises only that you "store upright in a dark cool place and pour carefully". Their Alliance sherry cask strong ale, confirms that the bottle contains champagne yeast, and instructs the drinker to "age upright in a cool dark place and pour slowly to allow the natural sediment to remain in the bottle".
Dunham Massey Porter is significantly less verbose and states only that the beer should be served between 12-13 C.
Meanwhile Blue Anchor Spingo advises to "serve slightly chilled and pour with care".
George Gales Prize Old Ale advises "stand for some hours at room temperature" and then, "carefully withdraw the cork and pour slowly"
And finally, Penlon Stock Ram Stout, advises you put the bottle in the fridge for 30 minutes before opening as it is lively! Hurrah! Some decent advice at last! *
The problem with these mixed messages comes when a lack of info results in a poor drinking experience for the consumer. Because the only consistent message seems to be to drink at 8-14 degrees C., and to pour carefully. Only the Spingo (which is an unfailingly dire BCA) suggests chilling to any extent, along with the Penlon beers. The Gales advice is quite detailed, which is ironic, considering how unsophisticated their sherry like offering was, but crucially none of the stronger ales including those you are positively encouraged to age, make any proviso for the obvious result of natural carbonation from the live yeast. Why?
BCA is already a seriously maligned concept suffering from terrible practitioners and poor retailer knowledge. As this shows, a lack of useful labelling advice potentially exacerbates the problem. The label is the producers last chance to influence the consumer's drinking experience, so, whilst label space is limited, maybe include words along the lines of "this beer is conditioned naturally in the bottle and can be lively on opening. For best results please open the bottle chilled to reduce the carbonation. The beer can then be left to reach room temperature, allowing you to fully appreciate the flavours."?
OK, so there's no career for me writing succinct bottle instructions, but the label content is a manageable factor for producers in their products journey to the glass, and easier to control than elements such as the vagaries of staff and retailer knowledge.
Some BCA's don't need chilling. Very few. If chilling reduces the likelihood of more indefensible fountains of failure, then surely that's good advice to impart?
Wee Beefy
*amusingly, Wee Fatha keeps all his BCA's in his "chilled" hallway (non scientific, not always accurate). Without reading the Penlon label I went to open the bottle from the hall at the table, since, last time, there had been a war of attrition between me and Wee Keefy and Wee Fatha to persuade him to refrigerate a wheat beer, which he vehemently opposed as beer "shouldn't need to go in the fridge". And when the Penlon escaped in foam all over his table? He said " you should have put that in the fridge". Thanks for that. The Devil's in the detail it seems....
Thursday, 16 August 2012
George Gales Prize Old Ale (corked)
Now then,
the Olympics finished on Sunday and in a moment of heady excitement I decided it would be good to celebrate the event with one of my "stash" - a cavalcade of bottled beers from 1971 (yes, long before I was old enough to drink, or even born) til the present day, amassed since 1993.
One such bottle was a Gales Prize Old Ale from the last batch brewed in Horndean and thus corked. I had two so figured one could be sacrificed, having had them laid on their side (as per the label instructions) since 2005. A cursory glance at the label proclaimed it had been brewed that year and was best before March 2010. Well, I thought, its 9% for chrissakes. Surely it had the balls for the journey? And besides, whenever I caved in after 3 years and drank one it was invariably unbalanced and too "young". So this seemed a perfect chance to try a good one.
With the roar and razzmatazz of the Olympics blaring out of the TV behind me I set about opening the chilled beer. Not rate chilled you understand, but I had concerns that it might be fizzy. I broke the pinkish red plastic seal round the top and slightly indelicately removed the cork. There was little sound. Hmmm..
The aroma was predominantly sherry. As I breathed n a bit more there was a sharper stronger aroma like whisky, plus the sweetness, reminiscent faintly of cane sugar, and for a mad moment fruit salad sweets.
I poured it out flat as a millpond. Some carbonation was caused towards the end of the pour, although not knowing what to expect from the yeast it was eked out slowly so no gravity pushed the bubbles into the glass. I still don't think throwing it in would have created much bubbles, if that is even grammatically correct.
The colour was, well, sherry to be honest! Maybe brandy depending on the light. But with a darker brown shade more reminiscent of the beer it was supposed to be, with some attractive reddish hints.
The first taste was something of a slow motion slap across the face. I could see it coming, but couldn't avoid the massive sherry, tart fruit and residual alcohol smashing into me in one angry wave of tipsy bravado. Further tastes allowed the sugar to increase, or rather its sweetness to come through, and I detected candy, lavender sugar, treacle, and fighting unconvincingly at the back, some hops.
Later tastes revealed lemon sherbet and a taste I can only describe as the smell of leather (just trust me) and, regrettably, cardboard. I added the yeast half way down which only served to increase the sweetness but it was also mildly acidic and there seemed to be even more alcohol - certainly my complexion was telling me that this was no longer 9.0%.
The body was thin, there even seemed to be a little suggestion of water, almost like I hadn't dried the glass after rinsing, except I had. It was strange having a thin beer with such incredibly strong flavours.
So in conclusion, not a subtle beer, and not really a beer at all in terms of taste. More a sherry with a suggestion of malt and hops with sweet tart fruit and alcoholic flavours.
This is interesting since I don't think I've ever had a really good Gales corked beer. They've always been a bit muddled or eccentric or unbalanced, usually with only one prominent characteristic on display - I am thinking of 5 examples over the past 18 years. The best one was a celebration beer at around 7.0% which had a bit more subtlety to its flavours and was a bit more, well, beer.
That the Harveys Imperial Russian Stout that was brewed in the mid nineties and was undrinkable was blamed by the brewery on their contracting bottling to Gales says a lot, although perhaps more about Harveys, since it was their yeast which died in the bottle. It makes you wonder whether the passage of time clouds our memories of what was good beer, I mean, does it all have odd flavours and no carbonation? And it also begs the question, can we make good corked ale in Britain?
Wissey Valley managed it , at least I think they did! But really its not a British strongpoint - its got to ne Chimay who nailed it. So perhaps we once again have to look at how the Belgians do things.
In defence of the "old stagers" of brewing though, I'd like to try a bottle conditioned new world hopped IPA or Black IPA, or heavy hopped stout after 7 years to see how the more popular ingredients fared over time in the bottle. It would be really interesting to see if they could match classics like Thomas Hardy Ale.
To which end, I am, co-incidentally as it happens, hoping to try what I think is a 29 year old vintage next month. The 25 year was still carbonated and you could taste the hops. So already better than Gales, but might 29 years be a step too far?
Wee Beefy
the Olympics finished on Sunday and in a moment of heady excitement I decided it would be good to celebrate the event with one of my "stash" - a cavalcade of bottled beers from 1971 (yes, long before I was old enough to drink, or even born) til the present day, amassed since 1993.
One such bottle was a Gales Prize Old Ale from the last batch brewed in Horndean and thus corked. I had two so figured one could be sacrificed, having had them laid on their side (as per the label instructions) since 2005. A cursory glance at the label proclaimed it had been brewed that year and was best before March 2010. Well, I thought, its 9% for chrissakes. Surely it had the balls for the journey? And besides, whenever I caved in after 3 years and drank one it was invariably unbalanced and too "young". So this seemed a perfect chance to try a good one.
With the roar and razzmatazz of the Olympics blaring out of the TV behind me I set about opening the chilled beer. Not rate chilled you understand, but I had concerns that it might be fizzy. I broke the pinkish red plastic seal round the top and slightly indelicately removed the cork. There was little sound. Hmmm..
The aroma was predominantly sherry. As I breathed n a bit more there was a sharper stronger aroma like whisky, plus the sweetness, reminiscent faintly of cane sugar, and for a mad moment fruit salad sweets.
I poured it out flat as a millpond. Some carbonation was caused towards the end of the pour, although not knowing what to expect from the yeast it was eked out slowly so no gravity pushed the bubbles into the glass. I still don't think throwing it in would have created much bubbles, if that is even grammatically correct.
The colour was, well, sherry to be honest! Maybe brandy depending on the light. But with a darker brown shade more reminiscent of the beer it was supposed to be, with some attractive reddish hints.
The first taste was something of a slow motion slap across the face. I could see it coming, but couldn't avoid the massive sherry, tart fruit and residual alcohol smashing into me in one angry wave of tipsy bravado. Further tastes allowed the sugar to increase, or rather its sweetness to come through, and I detected candy, lavender sugar, treacle, and fighting unconvincingly at the back, some hops.
Later tastes revealed lemon sherbet and a taste I can only describe as the smell of leather (just trust me) and, regrettably, cardboard. I added the yeast half way down which only served to increase the sweetness but it was also mildly acidic and there seemed to be even more alcohol - certainly my complexion was telling me that this was no longer 9.0%.
The body was thin, there even seemed to be a little suggestion of water, almost like I hadn't dried the glass after rinsing, except I had. It was strange having a thin beer with such incredibly strong flavours.
So in conclusion, not a subtle beer, and not really a beer at all in terms of taste. More a sherry with a suggestion of malt and hops with sweet tart fruit and alcoholic flavours.
This is interesting since I don't think I've ever had a really good Gales corked beer. They've always been a bit muddled or eccentric or unbalanced, usually with only one prominent characteristic on display - I am thinking of 5 examples over the past 18 years. The best one was a celebration beer at around 7.0% which had a bit more subtlety to its flavours and was a bit more, well, beer.
That the Harveys Imperial Russian Stout that was brewed in the mid nineties and was undrinkable was blamed by the brewery on their contracting bottling to Gales says a lot, although perhaps more about Harveys, since it was their yeast which died in the bottle. It makes you wonder whether the passage of time clouds our memories of what was good beer, I mean, does it all have odd flavours and no carbonation? And it also begs the question, can we make good corked ale in Britain?
Wissey Valley managed it , at least I think they did! But really its not a British strongpoint - its got to ne Chimay who nailed it. So perhaps we once again have to look at how the Belgians do things.
In defence of the "old stagers" of brewing though, I'd like to try a bottle conditioned new world hopped IPA or Black IPA, or heavy hopped stout after 7 years to see how the more popular ingredients fared over time in the bottle. It would be really interesting to see if they could match classics like Thomas Hardy Ale.
To which end, I am, co-incidentally as it happens, hoping to try what I think is a 29 year old vintage next month. The 25 year was still carbonated and you could taste the hops. So already better than Gales, but might 29 years be a step too far?
Wee Beefy
Sunday, 10 June 2012
Bottle conditioned beer - doom put on hold temporarily
Hello,
back in February I wrote about my experience of a bottle of Durham Temptation Stout, perhaps my favourite bottle conditioned beer, that I had tried, and found to be orf. This was an incredibly disappointing outcome for me, since I rated Durham and this beer so highly. As I said though, the only thing when you have a fall is to get back on the horse - so seeking suitable reward for my exhausting endeavours today, I decided to open another bottle.
Please4 accept my apologies for a lack of pics - my phone camera decided to refuse to recharge, and Chala has taken hers to bed with my pics on it!
Here's what I found :
Brewery : Durham, in Durham
Name : Temptation ( May 2007 vintage, BBE September 2012)
Strength : 10.0%
BCA/none BCA? : BCA.
Purchased : Archer Road Beer Stop Sheffield.
Colour : "Black! Black! (No Johnnyy...) All black! Like the procession of night that leads us into the valley of despair " (apologies to the Fast Show for borrowing this, here's a cursory link by way of recognition) . Anyhoo, also a thin, white-ish but gently fizzing layer of bubbles sits atop the dark chasm of drinkability.
Style win I say.
Carbonation/Pouring : Loud and reassuring fizz on opening - pours silky smooth with a lot of beer coming out before we hit the yeast.
Aroma : Alcohol! Plenty of it, its five years old and clearly not an old ladies drink. There's roast malt, molasses, tar and coffee fighting through in there as well.
Taste : There is an enormous initial mouthfeel of molasses, burnt toffee, massive alcohol, following to an incredible intense sweetish creamy malt finish, with a further bitter burnt aftertaste, which simply increases the desire for more. Even after that lingering wave of taste sensations has left there is still a hint of malt and maybe currants in alcohol? (am struggling for the drunken fruit here).
On the second taste you get more molasses and once again that initial burst of alcohol and warming roast and burnt malt, with that joyous creamy malted aftertaste, as the beer pushes you from creamy to bitter to burnt to toffee and back again over and over again with every swig.
I added the yeast to a small amount of the clear (as far as that's possible!) beer about 10 gulps in, because I noticed a very minor imbalance which I felt the addition of the bottling yeast might remedy. Straight away, the barely 50ml of sediment caused a massive head to form, with a striking yellow brown toffee colour, before receding back into the glass. The result is an even better beer - less burnt, more toffee notes, and and an even longer lingering creamy finish which makes the beer dangerously moreish (note, drinking 500ml of 10% beer is quite tiring, even if it is incredibly enjoyable!).
Head retention - its not really appreciably a head after a bit. The bubbles disperse after about 20 minutes leaving a luscious tar black sea of roasted creamy goodness with enough alcohol in it to confuse a rhino. .
WBrating : 9.0.
Sorry but this is beervana. Perhaps this score is skewed slightly by my disappointment last time but this is an amazingly well rounded tasty, vinous behemoth of a stout.
So, it seems that all is not lost. I have my faith partly restored, and I am happy about that.
I do have a 2010 and 2011 vintage in storage so five years from now I hope to be enjoying one of them, but in the meantime they'll have to wait (hopefully) with the Durham yeast doing its job and taking the coarse strands of the strong stout and melding them together into the ultimate beer, which if you'll forgive my somewhat muddle headed hyperbole, is precisely what the 2007 vintage is.
Wee Beefy
back in February I wrote about my experience of a bottle of Durham Temptation Stout, perhaps my favourite bottle conditioned beer, that I had tried, and found to be orf. This was an incredibly disappointing outcome for me, since I rated Durham and this beer so highly. As I said though, the only thing when you have a fall is to get back on the horse - so seeking suitable reward for my exhausting endeavours today, I decided to open another bottle.
Please4 accept my apologies for a lack of pics - my phone camera decided to refuse to recharge, and Chala has taken hers to bed with my pics on it!
Here's what I found :
Brewery : Durham, in Durham
Name : Temptation ( May 2007 vintage, BBE September 2012)
Strength : 10.0%
BCA/none BCA? : BCA.
Purchased : Archer Road Beer Stop Sheffield.
Colour : "Black! Black! (No Johnnyy...) All black! Like the procession of night that leads us into the valley of despair " (apologies to the Fast Show for borrowing this, here's a cursory link by way of recognition) . Anyhoo, also a thin, white-ish but gently fizzing layer of bubbles sits atop the dark chasm of drinkability.
Style win I say.
Carbonation/Pouring : Loud and reassuring fizz on opening - pours silky smooth with a lot of beer coming out before we hit the yeast.
Aroma : Alcohol! Plenty of it, its five years old and clearly not an old ladies drink. There's roast malt, molasses, tar and coffee fighting through in there as well.
Taste : There is an enormous initial mouthfeel of molasses, burnt toffee, massive alcohol, following to an incredible intense sweetish creamy malt finish, with a further bitter burnt aftertaste, which simply increases the desire for more. Even after that lingering wave of taste sensations has left there is still a hint of malt and maybe currants in alcohol? (am struggling for the drunken fruit here).
On the second taste you get more molasses and once again that initial burst of alcohol and warming roast and burnt malt, with that joyous creamy malted aftertaste, as the beer pushes you from creamy to bitter to burnt to toffee and back again over and over again with every swig.
I added the yeast to a small amount of the clear (as far as that's possible!) beer about 10 gulps in, because I noticed a very minor imbalance which I felt the addition of the bottling yeast might remedy. Straight away, the barely 50ml of sediment caused a massive head to form, with a striking yellow brown toffee colour, before receding back into the glass. The result is an even better beer - less burnt, more toffee notes, and and an even longer lingering creamy finish which makes the beer dangerously moreish (note, drinking 500ml of 10% beer is quite tiring, even if it is incredibly enjoyable!).
Head retention - its not really appreciably a head after a bit. The bubbles disperse after about 20 minutes leaving a luscious tar black sea of roasted creamy goodness with enough alcohol in it to confuse a rhino. .
WBrating : 9.0.
Sorry but this is beervana. Perhaps this score is skewed slightly by my disappointment last time but this is an amazingly well rounded tasty, vinous behemoth of a stout.
So, it seems that all is not lost. I have my faith partly restored, and I am happy about that.
I do have a 2010 and 2011 vintage in storage so five years from now I hope to be enjoying one of them, but in the meantime they'll have to wait (hopefully) with the Durham yeast doing its job and taking the coarse strands of the strong stout and melding them together into the ultimate beer, which if you'll forgive my somewhat muddle headed hyperbole, is precisely what the 2007 vintage is.
Wee Beefy
Sunday, 13 May 2012
Telling them straight?
Lunchtime greetings,
I noticed a lot of "blog" has been uploaded about the thorny issue of naming and shaming brewers of crap beer. Boak and Bailey (for it is them) kindly recapped some of the responses from the blogosphere in this post and it seems everyone has their own approach. The impetus for this debate was some Bottle Conditioned Ales (BCA's) of vinegrous qualities.
I can assure you that waving goodbye to a foaming mass of BCA isn't unusual. I have been picking up BCA's in pubs or shops since about 1993 and I have yet to find a corner of the country that hasn't spawned a hideous swamp ale, with too many breweries to remember being involved. In terms of identifying them, I, almost always, name and shame. However that's not to say there isn't an alternative.
Lets just make it clear that I love good, well made BCA's. They bring a whole new angle to the taste of the beer as it matures and often refines its character in the bottle. Having been lucky enough to drink a few vintages of Eldridge Pope Thomas Hardy Ale I can assure you that the wonder of in-bottle fermentation is quite real, and can be truly awe inspiring.
When its crap though, I am unhappy. I feel let down. And now I have a blog, I find myself bitching about it on here. Which is fine, blogs are after all solely the embodiment of the authors comment and opinion, but before I had this mouthpiece I used to write to the brewer and express my dismay.
I wonder if, as I have commented on the Boak and Bailey post, doing so might remove the thorny question of whether one names or shames? I know that blogging, and more so Twatter, is meant to be up to date and virtually instantaneous, but if you correspond with said producer (this applies more to BCA's than cask) and they reply you can decide then whether or not to mention it. If they are unapologetic or indeed don't reply at all, you can present a fuller picture. Better still, if they take on board your comments, then I would suggest that is a full story with a positive ending. Positivity on blogs! Whatever next...
Well, perhaps this idea of consumer/producer interaction may already be underway. The Pub Curmudgeon has set an interesting challenge on his blog here. The BCA challenge is a request to brewers to send him a bottle of their BCA which he promises to nurture and look after properly in the prime of conditions and then open, drink (hopefully) and review. I haven't seen any reviews yet, so I must drop him an email to find out how things are going, but if we assume no or very few brewers are interested, this poses an interesting question.
Why are so few brewers willing to put their BCA's up for close inspection or review?
As I commented on Boak and Bailey before, there seems a deafening silence from the smaller producers (although some welcome comments on this post ) about BCA, so one wonders if this is a tacit acceptance that their products aren't up to scratch?
Perhaps the best solution is if producers and consumers are equally vocal - with each other. Then everyone knows where they stand.
Wee Beefy
I noticed a lot of "blog" has been uploaded about the thorny issue of naming and shaming brewers of crap beer. Boak and Bailey (for it is them) kindly recapped some of the responses from the blogosphere in this post and it seems everyone has their own approach. The impetus for this debate was some Bottle Conditioned Ales (BCA's) of vinegrous qualities.
I can assure you that waving goodbye to a foaming mass of BCA isn't unusual. I have been picking up BCA's in pubs or shops since about 1993 and I have yet to find a corner of the country that hasn't spawned a hideous swamp ale, with too many breweries to remember being involved. In terms of identifying them, I, almost always, name and shame. However that's not to say there isn't an alternative.
Lets just make it clear that I love good, well made BCA's. They bring a whole new angle to the taste of the beer as it matures and often refines its character in the bottle. Having been lucky enough to drink a few vintages of Eldridge Pope Thomas Hardy Ale I can assure you that the wonder of in-bottle fermentation is quite real, and can be truly awe inspiring.
When its crap though, I am unhappy. I feel let down. And now I have a blog, I find myself bitching about it on here. Which is fine, blogs are after all solely the embodiment of the authors comment and opinion, but before I had this mouthpiece I used to write to the brewer and express my dismay.
 |
| Actually, this is wheat beer, very good wheat beer... |
I wonder if, as I have commented on the Boak and Bailey post, doing so might remove the thorny question of whether one names or shames? I know that blogging, and more so Twatter, is meant to be up to date and virtually instantaneous, but if you correspond with said producer (this applies more to BCA's than cask) and they reply you can decide then whether or not to mention it. If they are unapologetic or indeed don't reply at all, you can present a fuller picture. Better still, if they take on board your comments, then I would suggest that is a full story with a positive ending. Positivity on blogs! Whatever next...
Well, perhaps this idea of consumer/producer interaction may already be underway. The Pub Curmudgeon has set an interesting challenge on his blog here. The BCA challenge is a request to brewers to send him a bottle of their BCA which he promises to nurture and look after properly in the prime of conditions and then open, drink (hopefully) and review. I haven't seen any reviews yet, so I must drop him an email to find out how things are going, but if we assume no or very few brewers are interested, this poses an interesting question.
Why are so few brewers willing to put their BCA's up for close inspection or review?
As I commented on Boak and Bailey before, there seems a deafening silence from the smaller producers (although some welcome comments on this post ) about BCA, so one wonders if this is a tacit acceptance that their products aren't up to scratch?
Perhaps the best solution is if producers and consumers are equally vocal - with each other. Then everyone knows where they stand.
Wee Beefy
Sunday, 22 April 2012
A Premier Cru bottled beer
Afternoon,
the title, you will be relieved to discover, is not a reference to some dreadful over-concept "craft"(?) bottled beer made with wine, instead, its simply a wine term used to afford compliment to an excellent British bottled beer, from an excellent local brewery.
Brampton Brewery in Chesterfield produce a regular range of really very good beers. Impy dark is a classic, and a personal favourite of mine, and the Stout and session bitter "Best" are worthy features in a commendable portfolio. Interestingly though, it seems like they haven't branched out much into stronger beers yet, or at least, not until the end of last year.
Winter Bock
When I went to buy my Christmas beers from Archer Road Beer Stop, Davefromtshop told me that, despite its rather exclusive price tag, Brampton Winter Bock was one of the best beers he'd tried for a long time. Curiously, seeing its tempting livery of mucky white and black in a flip top 750ml bottle I assumed it was really strong. I was actually a little disappointed to discover that it was "only" 6%, so accustomed had I become to stouts being of imperial strength when packaged so well. Dave reassured me that despite its strength, it was still a brilliant beer. And then, I was bought one for Christmas.
I was going to patiently store it until my birthday in June but caved in last night and offered to share it with Chala - after all, at the sharp end of a refreshing night, the last thing you want is to munch your way through a wine bottle sized slab of beer, no matter how delicious it is. As it turned out, it was so good that I could easily have sunk the lot on my own. A good job then that it wasn't a gorilla baffler.
I should confess now that I didn't make notes. I couldn't be arsed to be quite honest! I didn't want to impinge on the event by thinking carefully about what flavours I could pick out, so here are some rambling vaguely useful notes about this wonderful bottled beer that I have managed to more or less remember.
Brampton Winter Bock is 6.0%, numbered 063 from a limited edition of am not sure how many and, possibly due to an identified degree of refreshment last night, I thought it was bottle conditioned, whereas the label makes no such claim. No spine chilling "CAMRA says this is real ale" vinegar portent to be seen. The label also proudly proclaims that its a barley wine. This is in fact, the only thing that I could find fault with - I think barley wine does it a disservice, since its much more drinkable and well balanced than most barley wine offerings. And really, at 6.0%, its too weak to be a barley wine. But I digress....
It pours a glorious black and smells straight away like a a Belgian Dubbel, but that is quickly knocked into touch by a familiar Brampton dark beer aroma. Aside from this, Brampton do three dark beers - Impy, Mild and Stout. I swear if you tried every one of them one after another you'd soon recognise that Brampton waft. Is it the yeast they use perhaps, or do they always prefer to use specific malts in their dark beers? I don't know, but why change something that works - if they continue to all have that appealing sweet and roast malt aroma I'll continue to enjoy drinking them.
The taste is the same as the aroma, in that there is a definite dark Belgian or possibly German, perhaps Andechs Dopplebock taste, giving way to a glorious blend of roast malts. This is a surprisingly refreshing drink for a strong beer - the label describes it as dangerously drinkable and I think that's spot on. There is some bitterness, it kind of appears with the malt in the second part of the taste, and lingers subtly in the background when you finish each mouthful.
The primary feature though is its lustrous creaminess, the sort of smooth palate caressing warm satisfaction that could never be achieved by filling beer with Nitrogen or other crap. Its smooth in a good way. And tremendously enjoyable.
Labouring under the illusion it was a BCA I actually poured it in to 4 glasses - a near full pint for me, a small measure for Chala who also loved it, another small measure leaving what I thought would be yeast in the bottom, and then a mug containing the last of the bottle contents. In the end this interesting but needless exercise served me very well as it drew out the drinking experience that little longer. Its just a shame that mild befuddlement means I am not 100% certain it wasn't bottle conditioned, and so will now have to buy another to find out - which depending on its limited edition numbers, will either be extremely expensive or impossible.
Overall this was an example of a recommendation deserved. It was fantastic. If you find one buy it; if you own one, drink it.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
the title, you will be relieved to discover, is not a reference to some dreadful over-concept "craft"(?) bottled beer made with wine, instead, its simply a wine term used to afford compliment to an excellent British bottled beer, from an excellent local brewery.
Brampton Brewery in Chesterfield produce a regular range of really very good beers. Impy dark is a classic, and a personal favourite of mine, and the Stout and session bitter "Best" are worthy features in a commendable portfolio. Interestingly though, it seems like they haven't branched out much into stronger beers yet, or at least, not until the end of last year.
Winter Bock
When I went to buy my Christmas beers from Archer Road Beer Stop, Davefromtshop told me that, despite its rather exclusive price tag, Brampton Winter Bock was one of the best beers he'd tried for a long time. Curiously, seeing its tempting livery of mucky white and black in a flip top 750ml bottle I assumed it was really strong. I was actually a little disappointed to discover that it was "only" 6%, so accustomed had I become to stouts being of imperial strength when packaged so well. Dave reassured me that despite its strength, it was still a brilliant beer. And then, I was bought one for Christmas.
I was going to patiently store it until my birthday in June but caved in last night and offered to share it with Chala - after all, at the sharp end of a refreshing night, the last thing you want is to munch your way through a wine bottle sized slab of beer, no matter how delicious it is. As it turned out, it was so good that I could easily have sunk the lot on my own. A good job then that it wasn't a gorilla baffler.
I should confess now that I didn't make notes. I couldn't be arsed to be quite honest! I didn't want to impinge on the event by thinking carefully about what flavours I could pick out, so here are some rambling vaguely useful notes about this wonderful bottled beer that I have managed to more or less remember.
Brampton Winter Bock is 6.0%, numbered 063 from a limited edition of am not sure how many and, possibly due to an identified degree of refreshment last night, I thought it was bottle conditioned, whereas the label makes no such claim. No spine chilling "CAMRA says this is real ale" vinegar portent to be seen. The label also proudly proclaims that its a barley wine. This is in fact, the only thing that I could find fault with - I think barley wine does it a disservice, since its much more drinkable and well balanced than most barley wine offerings. And really, at 6.0%, its too weak to be a barley wine. But I digress....
It pours a glorious black and smells straight away like a a Belgian Dubbel, but that is quickly knocked into touch by a familiar Brampton dark beer aroma. Aside from this, Brampton do three dark beers - Impy, Mild and Stout. I swear if you tried every one of them one after another you'd soon recognise that Brampton waft. Is it the yeast they use perhaps, or do they always prefer to use specific malts in their dark beers? I don't know, but why change something that works - if they continue to all have that appealing sweet and roast malt aroma I'll continue to enjoy drinking them.
The taste is the same as the aroma, in that there is a definite dark Belgian or possibly German, perhaps Andechs Dopplebock taste, giving way to a glorious blend of roast malts. This is a surprisingly refreshing drink for a strong beer - the label describes it as dangerously drinkable and I think that's spot on. There is some bitterness, it kind of appears with the malt in the second part of the taste, and lingers subtly in the background when you finish each mouthful.
The primary feature though is its lustrous creaminess, the sort of smooth palate caressing warm satisfaction that could never be achieved by filling beer with Nitrogen or other crap. Its smooth in a good way. And tremendously enjoyable.
Labouring under the illusion it was a BCA I actually poured it in to 4 glasses - a near full pint for me, a small measure for Chala who also loved it, another small measure leaving what I thought would be yeast in the bottom, and then a mug containing the last of the bottle contents. In the end this interesting but needless exercise served me very well as it drew out the drinking experience that little longer. Its just a shame that mild befuddlement means I am not 100% certain it wasn't bottle conditioned, and so will now have to buy another to find out - which depending on its limited edition numbers, will either be extremely expensive or impossible.
Overall this was an example of a recommendation deserved. It was fantastic. If you find one buy it; if you own one, drink it.
Cheers!
Wee Beefy
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
Open It Big Lad! Open it man!
Good evening,
there I was Saturday night, preparing myself for a very important early kick off in the realm of association football the very next day, and I decided to unleash the wild exotic flavours of one of my old stored beers, maybe as an emboldening of will, or a pre-emptive soother of hurt feelings. As it turned out, this random unplanned decision seemed to accidentally tie in with an event on that Twitter.
Despite not being a Tweetoid, I noted from reading a couple of beer blogs (the first two both in dear old Sheff) that something was on the cards, or rather, that it had been and was now finished. Over the next few days I noticed that a lot of prominent bloggers had partook. The event? #Open It!
Now, putting aside my pickiness about the hash key* (!*=x#!) I perceived that this event was recklessly encouraging the despoiling of a treasured collection of ales. My collection is nearing 20 years old now and is continuously added to. The above justification for opening my bottle reflects the daunting magnitude of the coming event, but I was a little uneasy about the idea that all of a sudden half of the world's aged beers would be lost in a drunken tweet induced haze.
That said, this is not the root cause of my lack or partaking, that lies expressly in my lack of Twitter registration. But it still serves as a rubbish excuse for my being out of the loop, and reporting on something almost a week late....
Anyhoo, to clarify, Open It saw lots of folks across Twitter opening their saved bottles of beer. For more details and a handy logo see the article at the excellent Barl Fire blog (Open it at Barl Fire ). Now I was clear what the idea was, I could rejoice in the random happenstance of my opening an aged beer at the very same time as bloggers and tweeters the world over were accessing their hoards of special occasion bottles. And now I had a beer to tell you about into the bargain. Happy days.
My first offering was Abbaye Des Rocs Speciale Noel, 9.0% from Belgium. I bought it at ARBS yonks ago, and it may be from 2007. Maybe 2008.
It pours dark chestnut brown, almost black, with a thick consistency. It smells like all good aged beer does, but there are a lot of complex alcohol hints in there, particularly brandy, and sherry. There is also marmalade, orange zest and malt. It says "sit down fat boy. You 'll need a rest".
The taste is almost overpowering but quickly becomes sensational with tangerine, sweet alcoholic bite and sherry tones. This initial burst peters out a little and balance comes from the strengthened malt overtones, and a complimentary yeasty taste, which seems to make the mouthfeel warmer and somehow, more alcoholic. As you continue drinking the alcohol is most detectable in the nose.... and the legs. The overall might of flavours is simultaneously enjoyable, but lets you know you have had a strong beer.
There is no head retention until you add the yeast - arguably the yeast perhaps ought to be added in the first instance.
Overall - 8.8 - a scintillating lesson in layered flavours and complimentary ageing of an ale, in the redoubtable Belgian style.
After that joyous experiment I decided to find out what others had experienced whilst joining in. Reading some of the beers that other bloggers have dispatched in the name of Open It, its clearly been a celebration of some of the best and alas, the worst, of beer bottling from around the world. This made me think that I should perhaps open a second of my collection..... So, next up is a beer that I bought from the Dram Shop, Commonside.
I bought 3 bottles of Old Bear brewery beer at the same time. I have had two (both Bruin mild, and WF had one; they have all been rank, undrinkable caskets of cack). So, I thought, I had nothing to lose. I knew Dave had opened his (bottle of this) and poured that away as well, so all I was doing in opening this beer was saving myself disappointment later on.
So the beer chosen was Old Bear Capstan F.S 12.5 %.
My concern was immediately roused by the Best Before date. Given that a 12.5% BCA beer should last about 4 to 20 years with the right yeast, September 2011 seemed a little cautious - granted I don't know when it was bottled, but I only bought it in 2009 or 2010. What could explain such reticence?
Well, all too quickly, my trepidation was justified.
Firstly, there was no carbonation. It poured, clear, and I was able to leave the yeast in the bottle, bar a few clumps of odd coloured detritus that sunk to the bottom of the glass. The smell, whilst I was (essentially) photographing the brew, was initially pleasing. A whole surge of aged alcohol and malt came to the fore but all too quickly was tinged with yeasty badness.
The colour however, was a revelation - a vibrant chestnut brown, with dark amber notes, but with almost no head, except for a microfiine Disprin tidemark as you drank.
In reality Disprin would have been a delicious addition to this one dimensional morass of grim features.
The aroma has quickly shifted form friend to foe. The strong alcohol waft does not dissipate but too soon the yeasty sour fruits arrive and you are left wondering where the hints of balanced malt and bitter in the initial aroma have gone. All these jarring grimace inducing pongs assemble in the first taste. And worse is to come.
Once sips two and three pass your lips you're moustache deep in a trough of sharp yeast. Now the subtle hints of orange and remaining alcohol notes give way to a more prevalent off beer hum. Fruit flavours become soured and apart form a suggestion of peach preserved in alcohol, its yeast in the driving seat from now on.
Its neither as good as it looks or originally smelt. Its unsubtle and utterly one dimensional. As I offered the beer to Chala to get a fresh palate assessment, she refused even to taste it, but said the smell reminded her or sour cherry - I thought of rotting plums when you tip them in the compost bin. Adding the yeast in a desperate attempt to coax some balance from the tangy soup only serves to exacerbate the problem. Its simply an unpleasant beer, half of which I pour away...
So there you have it.
Storing beer for a special occasion (or social media experiment) is a joyous and disappointing experience, depending on which beers you try. Its been encouraging to see good reviews of beers I still have stored, as well as evidence that some beers don't age, or that the yeast is not up to scratch.
The major downsides are pertinent though.
Who says this is real ale?
Firstly, people usually buy strong bottled beer at a premium price, and many years before they intend to open it. Receipts are tricky in such cases, especially if you get them off a market stall or when on holiday.
Worst of all though, this dreadful offering proudly proclaims "CAMRA says this is real ale!". Once more, the folly of encouraging brewers to pour beer and yeast into a bottle and allowing the label to pronounce that this is how beer should taste is writ large. This bizarre promotional claim is either misguided, arrogant or stupid. If I didn't drink real ale and tasted that beer, what conclusion would I draw? That real ale was a nice drink?
Of course not. Its the most damaging idea CAMRA have had since they pursued taking pubs out of the GBG that sold fake-pump Addlestones. And in the end, they get to share the shame of the brewer for producing a product not fit for sale.
Lets try a new scheme instead - "The brewer of this beer wants you to tell them what you think".
To avoid the prevarication and timely efforts of finding the brewers address and wording your letter to suit, just bang some brief comments on a specially set up website or postal address, for all brewers foisting BCA's on us to see, and let them read (or hear) just how crap their offerings so often are - and then publish the results each month. Soon put off the hobby bottlers and novelty short run brewers.....
Humph.
Wee Beefy.
*(surely any title starting with a hash symbol or octothorpe means its a measurement of something - in America it can relate to the cost, I see it as a number in a series, but the twitosphere intend it to mean a keyword or phrase about something. In my day (etc).....)
there I was Saturday night, preparing myself for a very important early kick off in the realm of association football the very next day, and I decided to unleash the wild exotic flavours of one of my old stored beers, maybe as an emboldening of will, or a pre-emptive soother of hurt feelings. As it turned out, this random unplanned decision seemed to accidentally tie in with an event on that Twitter.
Despite not being a Tweetoid, I noted from reading a couple of beer blogs (the first two both in dear old Sheff) that something was on the cards, or rather, that it had been and was now finished. Over the next few days I noticed that a lot of prominent bloggers had partook. The event? #Open It!
Now, putting aside my pickiness about the hash key* (!*=x#!) I perceived that this event was recklessly encouraging the despoiling of a treasured collection of ales. My collection is nearing 20 years old now and is continuously added to. The above justification for opening my bottle reflects the daunting magnitude of the coming event, but I was a little uneasy about the idea that all of a sudden half of the world's aged beers would be lost in a drunken tweet induced haze.
That said, this is not the root cause of my lack or partaking, that lies expressly in my lack of Twitter registration. But it still serves as a rubbish excuse for my being out of the loop, and reporting on something almost a week late....
Anyhoo, to clarify, Open It saw lots of folks across Twitter opening their saved bottles of beer. For more details and a handy logo see the article at the excellent Barl Fire blog (Open it at Barl Fire ). Now I was clear what the idea was, I could rejoice in the random happenstance of my opening an aged beer at the very same time as bloggers and tweeters the world over were accessing their hoards of special occasion bottles. And now I had a beer to tell you about into the bargain. Happy days.
My first offering was Abbaye Des Rocs Speciale Noel, 9.0% from Belgium. I bought it at ARBS yonks ago, and it may be from 2007. Maybe 2008.
It pours dark chestnut brown, almost black, with a thick consistency. It smells like all good aged beer does, but there are a lot of complex alcohol hints in there, particularly brandy, and sherry. There is also marmalade, orange zest and malt. It says "sit down fat boy. You 'll need a rest".
The taste is almost overpowering but quickly becomes sensational with tangerine, sweet alcoholic bite and sherry tones. This initial burst peters out a little and balance comes from the strengthened malt overtones, and a complimentary yeasty taste, which seems to make the mouthfeel warmer and somehow, more alcoholic. As you continue drinking the alcohol is most detectable in the nose.... and the legs. The overall might of flavours is simultaneously enjoyable, but lets you know you have had a strong beer.
There is no head retention until you add the yeast - arguably the yeast perhaps ought to be added in the first instance.
Overall - 8.8 - a scintillating lesson in layered flavours and complimentary ageing of an ale, in the redoubtable Belgian style.
After that joyous experiment I decided to find out what others had experienced whilst joining in. Reading some of the beers that other bloggers have dispatched in the name of Open It, its clearly been a celebration of some of the best and alas, the worst, of beer bottling from around the world. This made me think that I should perhaps open a second of my collection..... So, next up is a beer that I bought from the Dram Shop, Commonside.
I bought 3 bottles of Old Bear brewery beer at the same time. I have had two (both Bruin mild, and WF had one; they have all been rank, undrinkable caskets of cack). So, I thought, I had nothing to lose. I knew Dave had opened his (bottle of this) and poured that away as well, so all I was doing in opening this beer was saving myself disappointment later on.
So the beer chosen was Old Bear Capstan F.S 12.5 %.
My concern was immediately roused by the Best Before date. Given that a 12.5% BCA beer should last about 4 to 20 years with the right yeast, September 2011 seemed a little cautious - granted I don't know when it was bottled, but I only bought it in 2009 or 2010. What could explain such reticence?
Well, all too quickly, my trepidation was justified.
Firstly, there was no carbonation. It poured, clear, and I was able to leave the yeast in the bottle, bar a few clumps of odd coloured detritus that sunk to the bottom of the glass. The smell, whilst I was (essentially) photographing the brew, was initially pleasing. A whole surge of aged alcohol and malt came to the fore but all too quickly was tinged with yeasty badness.
The colour however, was a revelation - a vibrant chestnut brown, with dark amber notes, but with almost no head, except for a microfiine Disprin tidemark as you drank.
In reality Disprin would have been a delicious addition to this one dimensional morass of grim features.
The aroma has quickly shifted form friend to foe. The strong alcohol waft does not dissipate but too soon the yeasty sour fruits arrive and you are left wondering where the hints of balanced malt and bitter in the initial aroma have gone. All these jarring grimace inducing pongs assemble in the first taste. And worse is to come.
Once sips two and three pass your lips you're moustache deep in a trough of sharp yeast. Now the subtle hints of orange and remaining alcohol notes give way to a more prevalent off beer hum. Fruit flavours become soured and apart form a suggestion of peach preserved in alcohol, its yeast in the driving seat from now on.
Its neither as good as it looks or originally smelt. Its unsubtle and utterly one dimensional. As I offered the beer to Chala to get a fresh palate assessment, she refused even to taste it, but said the smell reminded her or sour cherry - I thought of rotting plums when you tip them in the compost bin. Adding the yeast in a desperate attempt to coax some balance from the tangy soup only serves to exacerbate the problem. Its simply an unpleasant beer, half of which I pour away...
So there you have it.
Storing beer for a special occasion (or social media experiment) is a joyous and disappointing experience, depending on which beers you try. Its been encouraging to see good reviews of beers I still have stored, as well as evidence that some beers don't age, or that the yeast is not up to scratch.
The major downsides are pertinent though.
Who says this is real ale?
Firstly, people usually buy strong bottled beer at a premium price, and many years before they intend to open it. Receipts are tricky in such cases, especially if you get them off a market stall or when on holiday.
Worst of all though, this dreadful offering proudly proclaims "CAMRA says this is real ale!". Once more, the folly of encouraging brewers to pour beer and yeast into a bottle and allowing the label to pronounce that this is how beer should taste is writ large. This bizarre promotional claim is either misguided, arrogant or stupid. If I didn't drink real ale and tasted that beer, what conclusion would I draw? That real ale was a nice drink?
Of course not. Its the most damaging idea CAMRA have had since they pursued taking pubs out of the GBG that sold fake-pump Addlestones. And in the end, they get to share the shame of the brewer for producing a product not fit for sale.
Lets try a new scheme instead - "The brewer of this beer wants you to tell them what you think".
To avoid the prevarication and timely efforts of finding the brewers address and wording your letter to suit, just bang some brief comments on a specially set up website or postal address, for all brewers foisting BCA's on us to see, and let them read (or hear) just how crap their offerings so often are - and then publish the results each month. Soon put off the hobby bottlers and novelty short run brewers.....
Humph.
Wee Beefy.
*(surely any title starting with a hash symbol or octothorpe means its a measurement of something - in America it can relate to the cost, I see it as a number in a series, but the twitosphere intend it to mean a keyword or phrase about something. In my day (etc).....)
Monday, 13 February 2012
Bottle conditioned beer - we're all doomed!
Hello,
I have made many references to the purveyors of good bottle conditioned beer. I have also alluded to some of the more rubbish ones, but rarely have I mentioned quality bottle conditioned beers or ales (BCA) without mentioning Durham Brewery. I think they are shit hot at the old BCA. Along with Dunham Massey, strangely, Thwaites and Coors (only one BCA each but never lets me down) I consider that they are the sort of brewery who's beers you should give a BCA doubter to try - let them see for themselves that BCA does not need to be sour piss like (insert name of almost any small brewery who's bottle conditioning experiment consists of bravado, guesswork, and hand bottling without any prior knowledge or later product testing)
So, against this paean to Durham's merits, what do you expect would happen then if I tried a crap Durham bottle conditioned beer?
Well, put simply, the world would end.
It went a little like this :
Brewery : Durham, in Durham
Name : Temptation (2008 or 2009 vintage, whichever was the first batch to not confirm the year of brewing)
Strength : 10.0%
BCA/none BCA? : BCA.
Purchased : Archer Road Beer Stop Sheffield.
Pictured below is the beer with the bottle, helpfully demonstrating the noticeable lack of any head, although also its jet black colour, and a few white bubbles have formed at the beer's edge.
Colour : as above, black. Absolutely black. No fannying about with "hues" or nuances of colour shades, this is black as coal and proud of it.
Carbonation/Pouring : no sound on opening - quite worrying since its a good three years in the bottle so you would expect a bit of carbonation. Pours silky smooth but ultimately flat.
Aroma : This is the 5th or 6th Temptation I have had, of varying vintages, and everyone carries a strong chocolate coffee malt aroma and sweet nose that tells you its rounded and alcoholic. This hints at that, but there is yeast. And molasses. I am concerned.
Taste : There is an enormous initial mouthfeel but its not well balanced. Yes, there are roast malts, smoked chocolate hints and warming alcohol in there but there is a niggly piquant bite of yeast, and a big dumb lumbering brute of molasses in the aftertaste. I am starting to worry that this has not been a successful bottling.
On the second taste you get more molasses and despite the pleasing strong alcohol and aged beer flavours which light the beer up its very one dimensional and worse still, slightly sour. There is a strong coffee and roast malt flavour struggling to the front again but all too soon its lost in the sledgehammer of thick vinous and unsavoury malt and yeast in the aftertaste.. As we get further down the glass the aftertaste becomes more prevalent. Below is a pic which shows the enticing velvety black ocean of tempting stout loveliness. If you didn't read this review, and just looked at the picture, you'd probably fall in love with the beer at once...
At this point I assume its just my keeping the yeast aside which has caused the problem so taste it separately. Doing so immediately confirms my fears and explains the problem. In essence, the yeast has died, not activated in the bottle. Its the yeast that has created and generated the off flavours as well as the beer stagnating rather than living since it was bottled. Its nasty enough, when it should be drinkable, to leave in the bottle.
Head retention - its not really appreciably a head at all. There are some game white bubbles that pop up now and again but its like a tar lake, and this is not how Temptation should pour. The fact that none of the strong flavours are lost in the head is a detriment on this occasion.
WBrating : 3.5.
Alas this is a BCA fail. The yeast should be the main player in the ageing and conditioning process and it has not managed to do that. As a result, the remaining beer gets to go off and slowly lose any of its redeeming flavours in the face of the sour molasses hit of the yeast.
In all honesty, I poured half of the bottle away. I could see that no temperature change or yeast addition would save this brew. It only manages to muster 3.5 because even though the beer is dead it is still from a recipe good enough to demonstrate what the real flavours should have been.
So what does this matter you may ask?
Well, its gutting for me, because I always tell people that not only are Durham Brewery the best bottle conditioned ale purveyors in the UK but that Temptation is their showcase. Its like my signature BCA argument - " I think its a shame that the bottle conditioned beer you tried was crap, but you really need to try something great instead like a Durham" The thing is, really, who is going to have this same experience? Will it be everyone I have proffered that advice to?
Well, I guess not, but this is genuinely the first bad Durham BCA I have ever had, and the fact that I kept it carefully for 3 years prior to opening (I considered in light of recent events I was entitled to a reward) just makes it all the more difficult to swallow. Literally.
I'll go out and buy a white stout instead. The only lingering gripe I have, is that I do still have 4 different Temptation vintages in my beer cupboard. So I will need to be open minded when anticipating sampling one.
Sigh.
Wee Beefy.
I have made many references to the purveyors of good bottle conditioned beer. I have also alluded to some of the more rubbish ones, but rarely have I mentioned quality bottle conditioned beers or ales (BCA) without mentioning Durham Brewery. I think they are shit hot at the old BCA. Along with Dunham Massey, strangely, Thwaites and Coors (only one BCA each but never lets me down) I consider that they are the sort of brewery who's beers you should give a BCA doubter to try - let them see for themselves that BCA does not need to be sour piss like (insert name of almost any small brewery who's bottle conditioning experiment consists of bravado, guesswork, and hand bottling without any prior knowledge or later product testing)
So, against this paean to Durham's merits, what do you expect would happen then if I tried a crap Durham bottle conditioned beer?
Well, put simply, the world would end.
Brewery : Durham, in Durham
Name : Temptation (2008 or 2009 vintage, whichever was the first batch to not confirm the year of brewing)
Strength : 10.0%
BCA/none BCA? : BCA.
Purchased : Archer Road Beer Stop Sheffield.
Pictured below is the beer with the bottle, helpfully demonstrating the noticeable lack of any head, although also its jet black colour, and a few white bubbles have formed at the beer's edge.
Colour : as above, black. Absolutely black. No fannying about with "hues" or nuances of colour shades, this is black as coal and proud of it.
Carbonation/Pouring : no sound on opening - quite worrying since its a good three years in the bottle so you would expect a bit of carbonation. Pours silky smooth but ultimately flat.
Aroma : This is the 5th or 6th Temptation I have had, of varying vintages, and everyone carries a strong chocolate coffee malt aroma and sweet nose that tells you its rounded and alcoholic. This hints at that, but there is yeast. And molasses. I am concerned.
Taste : There is an enormous initial mouthfeel but its not well balanced. Yes, there are roast malts, smoked chocolate hints and warming alcohol in there but there is a niggly piquant bite of yeast, and a big dumb lumbering brute of molasses in the aftertaste. I am starting to worry that this has not been a successful bottling.
On the second taste you get more molasses and despite the pleasing strong alcohol and aged beer flavours which light the beer up its very one dimensional and worse still, slightly sour. There is a strong coffee and roast malt flavour struggling to the front again but all too soon its lost in the sledgehammer of thick vinous and unsavoury malt and yeast in the aftertaste.. As we get further down the glass the aftertaste becomes more prevalent. Below is a pic which shows the enticing velvety black ocean of tempting stout loveliness. If you didn't read this review, and just looked at the picture, you'd probably fall in love with the beer at once...
At this point I assume its just my keeping the yeast aside which has caused the problem so taste it separately. Doing so immediately confirms my fears and explains the problem. In essence, the yeast has died, not activated in the bottle. Its the yeast that has created and generated the off flavours as well as the beer stagnating rather than living since it was bottled. Its nasty enough, when it should be drinkable, to leave in the bottle.
Head retention - its not really appreciably a head at all. There are some game white bubbles that pop up now and again but its like a tar lake, and this is not how Temptation should pour. The fact that none of the strong flavours are lost in the head is a detriment on this occasion.
WBrating : 3.5.
Alas this is a BCA fail. The yeast should be the main player in the ageing and conditioning process and it has not managed to do that. As a result, the remaining beer gets to go off and slowly lose any of its redeeming flavours in the face of the sour molasses hit of the yeast.
In all honesty, I poured half of the bottle away. I could see that no temperature change or yeast addition would save this brew. It only manages to muster 3.5 because even though the beer is dead it is still from a recipe good enough to demonstrate what the real flavours should have been.
So what does this matter you may ask?
Well, its gutting for me, because I always tell people that not only are Durham Brewery the best bottle conditioned ale purveyors in the UK but that Temptation is their showcase. Its like my signature BCA argument - " I think its a shame that the bottle conditioned beer you tried was crap, but you really need to try something great instead like a Durham" The thing is, really, who is going to have this same experience? Will it be everyone I have proffered that advice to?
Well, I guess not, but this is genuinely the first bad Durham BCA I have ever had, and the fact that I kept it carefully for 3 years prior to opening (I considered in light of recent events I was entitled to a reward) just makes it all the more difficult to swallow. Literally.
I'll go out and buy a white stout instead. The only lingering gripe I have, is that I do still have 4 different Temptation vintages in my beer cupboard. So I will need to be open minded when anticipating sampling one.
Sigh.
Wee Beefy.
Monday, 23 January 2012
Wee Beefy's beer bites : old hairy man tells you what some beer tastes like
Now then.
I have had a bottle of beer, and so here, using an oft used template, are the details of that experience, for your delectation.
Brewery : Dunham Massey, Cheshire
Name : Porter
Strength : 5.2%
BCA/none BCA? : BCA.
Purchased : Dunham Massey brewery shop.
Pictured below is the beer and its gloriously death metal inspired bottle, pictured in my evil fakir receptacle which I only last night learned was a beer housing imposter. Looks orate in it mind...
Colour : dark brown, nearly black, muddy with orangey red hints in the light, with a thick, white coffee coloured, bubbly head. (note, the exposure used makes it seem jet black, but the label is more so...)
Carbonation/Pouring : quite highly carbonated, although this may be because it wasn't artificially chilled at all, only cooled naturally from being in front of the empty fireplace. The beer is slow to settle but looks very appetising with its frothy milkshake coronet.
Aroma : surprisingly light; having troughed a few of their bottles I can now identify their signature scent, but apart from strong malt and the feintest roasted hint on the nose I couldn't smell anything else.
Taste : Strong malted milk and an incredible smooth creamy mouthfeel, a trace of white chocolate is suggested before all is washed over with a wave of bitterness which resides in the aftertaste. As you take the second swig and following on as the beer continues to settle and warm, the bitterness becomes more prevalent and some of the creamy malt fades away, which is a shame.
See the pic below with helpful sugar tin to provide perspective, lest you should think the bottle was the size of an oil drum, and a homely angle that makes it seem like I might like sweet tea or breakfast cereal.
At this point, I started to detect a coffee flavour, which was not entirely pleasant, like a mug of coffee made with viscous granules from an ancient jar in a holiday cottage where the granules haven't separated in the mug. I'd earlier retained the yeast in the bottle to get as clear a dark beer as possible, and had added that to see what difference it made.
Dunham Massey beers are great because you can almost always drink the yeast, which I always consider a good sign, given the grim astringent bite of some bottling yeast which I always think puts the beer in perilous danger of turning sour.
This additional impetus releases the creamy balance once more and straight away tempers the harsher ends of the roast bitterness, whilst adding none of the sharpness that sometimes can occur. Both the head and the aftertaste now remind me of milky coffee and the sweeter malt is coming through more.
Head retention - the head is very airy and bubbly and slides oozily down the sides throughout, resting on the beer and depositing thick trails all the way, perhaps its density is its downfall as it settles irregularly on the sides and splits toward the end.
WBrating : 7.9
Am afraid I have succumbed to my strongly held view that this is the best Dunham Massey bottled beer, so I may have cranked up the score a little to reflect that. Definitely only able to get this score with the yeast added, and served a little warm which avoids an imbalance in flavours. Having followed that advice, a lovely creamy finish contrasting with the roast malt is perhaps its star turn.
More bottle reviews to come as I try the last remaining offerings from my large selection of Christmas beers.
Wee Beefy
I have had a bottle of beer, and so here, using an oft used template, are the details of that experience, for your delectation.
Brewery : Dunham Massey, Cheshire
Name : Porter
Strength : 5.2%
BCA/none BCA? : BCA.
Purchased : Dunham Massey brewery shop.
Pictured below is the beer and its gloriously death metal inspired bottle, pictured in my evil fakir receptacle which I only last night learned was a beer housing imposter. Looks orate in it mind...
Colour : dark brown, nearly black, muddy with orangey red hints in the light, with a thick, white coffee coloured, bubbly head. (note, the exposure used makes it seem jet black, but the label is more so...)
Carbonation/Pouring : quite highly carbonated, although this may be because it wasn't artificially chilled at all, only cooled naturally from being in front of the empty fireplace. The beer is slow to settle but looks very appetising with its frothy milkshake coronet.
Aroma : surprisingly light; having troughed a few of their bottles I can now identify their signature scent, but apart from strong malt and the feintest roasted hint on the nose I couldn't smell anything else.
Taste : Strong malted milk and an incredible smooth creamy mouthfeel, a trace of white chocolate is suggested before all is washed over with a wave of bitterness which resides in the aftertaste. As you take the second swig and following on as the beer continues to settle and warm, the bitterness becomes more prevalent and some of the creamy malt fades away, which is a shame.
See the pic below with helpful sugar tin to provide perspective, lest you should think the bottle was the size of an oil drum, and a homely angle that makes it seem like I might like sweet tea or breakfast cereal.
At this point, I started to detect a coffee flavour, which was not entirely pleasant, like a mug of coffee made with viscous granules from an ancient jar in a holiday cottage where the granules haven't separated in the mug. I'd earlier retained the yeast in the bottle to get as clear a dark beer as possible, and had added that to see what difference it made. Dunham Massey beers are great because you can almost always drink the yeast, which I always consider a good sign, given the grim astringent bite of some bottling yeast which I always think puts the beer in perilous danger of turning sour.
This additional impetus releases the creamy balance once more and straight away tempers the harsher ends of the roast bitterness, whilst adding none of the sharpness that sometimes can occur. Both the head and the aftertaste now remind me of milky coffee and the sweeter malt is coming through more.
Head retention - the head is very airy and bubbly and slides oozily down the sides throughout, resting on the beer and depositing thick trails all the way, perhaps its density is its downfall as it settles irregularly on the sides and splits toward the end.
WBrating : 7.9
Am afraid I have succumbed to my strongly held view that this is the best Dunham Massey bottled beer, so I may have cranked up the score a little to reflect that. Definitely only able to get this score with the yeast added, and served a little warm which avoids an imbalance in flavours. Having followed that advice, a lovely creamy finish contrasting with the roast malt is perhaps its star turn.
More bottle reviews to come as I try the last remaining offerings from my large selection of Christmas beers.
Wee Beefy
Wednesday, 4 January 2012
Wee Beefy's beer tasting bites.
Hello again,
last night me and Davefromtshop did our inaugural 2012 beer tasting in my salubrious abode. Here are the details of that epic festival of the taste buds and the salient points rescued from the nonsense we came out with in rating said drinks.
The line up.
Its worth pointing out that optimism had decreed that a much lengthier roll call of beers were to be supped. We only had about 4 pints on our crawl first but I have to concede that really a beer tasting should be done an empty bloodstream (not literally of course).
In light of that here is the original line up, including the ones we didn't get round to - any beers not marked BCA are assumed to be not bottle conditioned beers :
1. Dark Mild, Dunham Massey Brewery 4.0% BCA
2. Evensong, Durham Brewery 5.0% BCA
3. Stout, Dunham Massey Brewery 4.2% BCA
4. Ape Ale, Blue Monkey Brewery 5.5% (BCA? need to find the bottle again!)
5. Yeti, Tatton Brewery 4.5%
6. 300 Ale, Chiltern Brewery 5.0% BCA
7. Pils, Flensburger Brauerei 4.8%
8. Kahuna NZ IPA, Summer Wine Brewery, 6.0%
9. Traditional Porter, Harviestoun 6.0% NOT TRIED
10. Torpedo, Sierra Nevada Brewery 7.2% NOT TRIED
11. Vintage Ale, (2004) Fullers Brewery 8.5% BCA
12. Temptation, (2007) Durham Brewery 10.0% NOT TRIED (much to do with the previous beer's magnificence)
As you can see there was a hint of optimism in my choice of taste overloads, and we finally gave up after the Fullers around 01.30 AM, having truly run out of steam.
This time we didn't worry ourselves about scoring, more entering into a detailed review of each beer and an overall assessment. Alas, the passage of time and accumulation of alcohol meant I can't honestly say that we picked a winner! The Fullers Vintage was seven years of wonderful perfection, however, interestingly, it was slightly flawed. Not only did it take about 45 (albeit heavenly) minutes to drink, but somehow in the maturation process, almost all trace of hops had disappeared.
By way of comparison, last year we had tried a bottle that was less than 2 years old and it was perhaps the finest bottled beer I ever tasted. However, picking the best time to open one is complicated further by the fact that the hops and malts and recipe change every year. So, given the above, and mindful of the authority afforded to me by this being my blog, I would have to say that after careful consideration the winner was the Chiltern Brewery 300's Old Ale.
We attended a tasting (by accident, just by turning up at their shop) in September 2011 and the insights into the beers and the knowledgeable staff showed what a slick operation Chiltern Brewery are. For more details see Chiltern Brewery bottled beers. I'd hate you to think that this swayed my decision, so I will attempt to validate my choice by explaining that the 300's wins because it was 5.0% and yet tasted a little bit like a beer double that, or one that had been aged at length. I think the fact that it punched so high above its weight, and had all the constituent ingredients of a strong but balanced English old ale means it outshone the Fullers. Although if there had been a "wow factor" to judge, Fullers would have easily walked away with first prize.
Other highlights were the Dunham Porter, The Ape Ale and the Durham Evensong. Interestingly though, there was no top accolade for the much anticipated Summer Wine Brewery Kahuna NZ IPA. I had expected to be bitten by ferocious hops and I wasn't disappointed, but, having tried and loved their draught offerings on numerous occasions now, what did disappoint me was the over reliance on the massive hop flavour, with seemingly not much else in the mix.
Both me and Dave were fairly certain that the hop in question was nelson sauvin, although it could have been green bullet as well. Either way there seemed a lack of balancing flavours. Having decided on the hop's identity we couldn't shake ourselves from the thought that this was a nelson sauvin attack more than it was a celebration. Yes, it was worthy of a buzz brewing descriptiopn like unapologetic, but that could be applied to BrewDog Hardcore IPA (in fact, I worry it may actually already be so) for example, a classic of its style. Kahuna, I concede, was more a bold experiment that didn't quite work. Which was a shame.
Overall, this was one of a couple of beers that fell short of expectations (those old chestnuts!) - perhaps a few less dry hops and some more balancing malt would have made this IPA an incredible beer. The only other disappointment was the Tatton Yeti, mainly because it did not live up to the promise of the blurb on the label (a fireside copper ale needs a bigger flavour and more lasting finish if its to work) and, against the quality of the Tatton Ale I tried the night before. Having said that, even though I can admit to a certain, ahem "tiredness" starting to befall us, there honestly wan't a bad beer.
Finally, for a snippet of the mumbling chaos of beer reviewing at gone midnight, I was going to have attached a short video, however the only one short enough to upload in under 25 minutes is very late on when, erm, clarity of thought and clear pronunciation of words has become more challenging. Instead I have posted the above picture of a glass of beer. This will have to do am afraid! You can rest assured however, in the absence of video evidence, that a robust assessment of each beer was carried out, to our very great enjoyment!
Happy beer tasting,
Wee Beefy
last night me and Davefromtshop did our inaugural 2012 beer tasting in my salubrious abode. Here are the details of that epic festival of the taste buds and the salient points rescued from the nonsense we came out with in rating said drinks.
The line up.
Its worth pointing out that optimism had decreed that a much lengthier roll call of beers were to be supped. We only had about 4 pints on our crawl first but I have to concede that really a beer tasting should be done an empty bloodstream (not literally of course).
In light of that here is the original line up, including the ones we didn't get round to - any beers not marked BCA are assumed to be not bottle conditioned beers :
1. Dark Mild, Dunham Massey Brewery 4.0% BCA
2. Evensong, Durham Brewery 5.0% BCA
3. Stout, Dunham Massey Brewery 4.2% BCA
4. Ape Ale, Blue Monkey Brewery 5.5% (BCA? need to find the bottle again!)
5. Yeti, Tatton Brewery 4.5%
6. 300 Ale, Chiltern Brewery 5.0% BCA
7. Pils, Flensburger Brauerei 4.8%
8. Kahuna NZ IPA, Summer Wine Brewery, 6.0%
9. Traditional Porter, Harviestoun 6.0% NOT TRIED
10. Torpedo, Sierra Nevada Brewery 7.2% NOT TRIED
11. Vintage Ale, (2004) Fullers Brewery 8.5% BCA
12. Temptation, (2007) Durham Brewery 10.0% NOT TRIED (much to do with the previous beer's magnificence)
As you can see there was a hint of optimism in my choice of taste overloads, and we finally gave up after the Fullers around 01.30 AM, having truly run out of steam.
This time we didn't worry ourselves about scoring, more entering into a detailed review of each beer and an overall assessment. Alas, the passage of time and accumulation of alcohol meant I can't honestly say that we picked a winner! The Fullers Vintage was seven years of wonderful perfection, however, interestingly, it was slightly flawed. Not only did it take about 45 (albeit heavenly) minutes to drink, but somehow in the maturation process, almost all trace of hops had disappeared.
By way of comparison, last year we had tried a bottle that was less than 2 years old and it was perhaps the finest bottled beer I ever tasted. However, picking the best time to open one is complicated further by the fact that the hops and malts and recipe change every year. So, given the above, and mindful of the authority afforded to me by this being my blog, I would have to say that after careful consideration the winner was the Chiltern Brewery 300's Old Ale.
We attended a tasting (by accident, just by turning up at their shop) in September 2011 and the insights into the beers and the knowledgeable staff showed what a slick operation Chiltern Brewery are. For more details see Chiltern Brewery bottled beers. I'd hate you to think that this swayed my decision, so I will attempt to validate my choice by explaining that the 300's wins because it was 5.0% and yet tasted a little bit like a beer double that, or one that had been aged at length. I think the fact that it punched so high above its weight, and had all the constituent ingredients of a strong but balanced English old ale means it outshone the Fullers. Although if there had been a "wow factor" to judge, Fullers would have easily walked away with first prize.
Other highlights were the Dunham Porter, The Ape Ale and the Durham Evensong. Interestingly though, there was no top accolade for the much anticipated Summer Wine Brewery Kahuna NZ IPA. I had expected to be bitten by ferocious hops and I wasn't disappointed, but, having tried and loved their draught offerings on numerous occasions now, what did disappoint me was the over reliance on the massive hop flavour, with seemingly not much else in the mix.
Both me and Dave were fairly certain that the hop in question was nelson sauvin, although it could have been green bullet as well. Either way there seemed a lack of balancing flavours. Having decided on the hop's identity we couldn't shake ourselves from the thought that this was a nelson sauvin attack more than it was a celebration. Yes, it was worthy of a buzz brewing descriptiopn like unapologetic, but that could be applied to BrewDog Hardcore IPA (in fact, I worry it may actually already be so) for example, a classic of its style. Kahuna, I concede, was more a bold experiment that didn't quite work. Which was a shame.
Overall, this was one of a couple of beers that fell short of expectations (those old chestnuts!) - perhaps a few less dry hops and some more balancing malt would have made this IPA an incredible beer. The only other disappointment was the Tatton Yeti, mainly because it did not live up to the promise of the blurb on the label (a fireside copper ale needs a bigger flavour and more lasting finish if its to work) and, against the quality of the Tatton Ale I tried the night before. Having said that, even though I can admit to a certain, ahem "tiredness" starting to befall us, there honestly wan't a bad beer.
Finally, for a snippet of the mumbling chaos of beer reviewing at gone midnight, I was going to have attached a short video, however the only one short enough to upload in under 25 minutes is very late on when, erm, clarity of thought and clear pronunciation of words has become more challenging. Instead I have posted the above picture of a glass of beer. This will have to do am afraid! You can rest assured however, in the absence of video evidence, that a robust assessment of each beer was carried out, to our very great enjoyment!
Happy beer tasting,
Wee Beefy
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