Back to School

So far have focused a lot...ok I lie... exclusively on beer from Belgium in these passages. It wasn't something I intended to do always but something that I thought I'd start with because a) I feel I know most about the region and b) I think it's the best. Or thought. It's not that I have now wholeheartedly changed my mind, it's that I have a much higher regard for beer brewed on my doorstep.


It's hard to ignore the impressive heritage of England (or more specifically London and Burton) as a brewing powerhouse and pioneer and I have drunk many a pint of English ale. I'd even say that I'm very familiar with London's foremost independent brew house (in my opinion), Meantime. I mention Meantime because on Friday I was at their 'Beer Masterclass' and was given, basically, the 101 of brewing and beer history. This is by the by; I know a lot about how beer is made already and a fair bit about its history. That it was well presented by the staff and my knowledge improved by some practical examples and well-rehearsed anecdotes is great, but not ground-shaking and certainly not enough for me to start tapping on the way home. What gets me really tapping is one thing: beer. More specifically, excellent beer.


I'm sure many of you will have tried Meantime's Pale Ale or London Porter at your local well-stocked pub or supermarket. But have you been to the 'Old Brewery' bar and restaurant on the site of the Naval College? Me neither until Friday. I've never been knocked out by Meantime's wares. Sure, they know how to package and present a beer. Their Chocolate Stout is very good but I've always found their Pale and Wheat ales more of a solid choice, a benchmark for an establishment deciding to expand their choice of drinks rather than really swinging the fist of choice right at your chops. Until I visited the Old Brewery.

There's a chap there called Rod who runs a Micro Brewery of pretty small proportions in association with Meantime. I say in association because he doesn't brew any of the beers the main house brew and you can't buy any if his beers anywhere other than that pub. Meantime's bottled and cask stuff is brewed down the road in a Micro Brewery which is fairly on the large side and expanding. I'm not cynical of the union but in the cold light of day I'm struggling to see the link between the two.

But down to business. What does he brew? Well, I can't tell you in great detail as a lot of the day was (perfectly enjoyable) chat about aforementioned stuff and even over lunch, with beer/food matching, we drank their standard stuff. But in the afternoon, over some history, we sampled two of his beers.


The first was 'Saaz Gold', made with Saaz hops, something I (incorrectly) associate with thin, pale pilsners devoid of strong flavours. How very wrong I was. The appearance of the beer was a thick gold brew with a nice cloudiness to it, not dissimilar to their standard wheat beer, with a fairly quickly fading head. No dramas yet. Until you smelled it. Now it's fair to say that the smell of a beer is something very important to me and I'm not shy about saying that I think that this is probably the best smelling beer I've ever encountered. It smelled of mango yoghurt, but in a really, really good way. And of excellent beer, of course! I really couldn't stop smelling it. I felt like a bit of a wally in that room, just snorting away, trying to listen to historical anecdotes as we went along. Mango, of all things! But not like the usual tropical fruit aromas. In a way that if I shut my eyes and you gave me a spoon I'd scoop away and be in for a real surprise when I didn't find yoghurt.

Taste-wise, the fruitiness is present, but in a much more subtle way. The main event here is light biscuit malt and a nice body to the beer. Unfortunately I can't really remember the aftertaste because I was too busy trying to be polite and listening to the class I was in. I accept full responsibility but hope that it will just encourage you to go and visit and complete the taste notes yourself.

The next beer we drank, which was once again presented without much context (but still very welcome) was their October beer, or Märzen (beer brewed in March to drink in October). You all know the October tradition in Germany. Once again there was prodigious aroma. Earlier on in the day we had a good whiff of some malted barley and in its raw state it's pretty pungent. Not many beers retain that smell but Rod's Märzen had bags of it and it continued in the flavour in the mouth. Once again, I'm afraid I don't have extensive notes but I think I've taken away something better than that: inspiration.


So much so that I'll be travelling to Greenwich again at the weekend to sample more of Rod's smashing beer. If you can, I strongly advise you do too.


Meantime Saaz Gold - 10
Meantime October Beer - 9

Monky Business

Brewer: Hey, you should try my beer!

Drinker: Ooh what's it called?

Brewer: Adelardus.

Drinker: I'll never remember that. What's the label look like?

Brewer: There's a picture of a cheery monk on the front holding a glass of frothing beer.

Drinker: Oh, isn't that Petrus?

Brewer: Um...

Drinker: And St Bernadus?

Brewer: He's next to his abbey.

Drinker: Like St Benoit.

Brewer: The type-face is kind of old-fashioned.

Drinker: ...

For an industry swamped by choice, it amazes me how so many decide against sticking out from the crowd. As a consumer it can be quite difficult to remember which ones you've tried; which 'Saint So-and-So'; which 'Abbey des Whatsit'. I suppose in Scotland you might have the problem of "Have you tried Glenthingamig 12-year old?" I shouldn't grumble. It gives geeks like me an opportunity to really KnowMyShit. But I guess that it proves that many of the breweries really do 'brew to live'. Funnily enough, the Kerkom brewery's official philosophy is

"we brew it here, we drink it here and sell what's left".

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised since the Belgian beer industry is so intrinsically linked with the history of Trappist monasteries. (Maybe British ale should have images of people having a real knees-up in their local, or a good old-fashioned bar brawl on the higher strength stuff.) There is still a brewery in Belgium which won't sell it's beer to bars, shops etc. To sample its wares you'll have to take a trip to the monastery and buy a crate of the stuff. Anyway, Westvleteren beer is for another (happy) day.

Today we're drinking Adelardus Tripel, a dark gold, fairly cloudy affair reminiscent of Hoegaarden Grand Cru and Chimay White so I thought that perhaps there's a little bit of wheat involved. However, the excellent Kerkom website http://www.brouwerijkerkom.be/en/ includes ingredients for all their beers. Guess what? No wheat in this beer! Shows what I know! Other than the usual malt, hops etc. there is 'candy' and 'sweet gale', which is a blend of local spices.

The 'candy' (presumably some sugar variant) is definitely present in its sweet, slightly fruity aroma (a touch of banana) but there is an iron-like whiff that unfortunately builds to a point where it overwhelms the scent. It's not a beer that you can sit sniffing for a while before drinking, so drank I did.

As you'd expect, its got a nice smooth fizziness but contrary to the thick, cloudy appearance it's fairly thin in the mouth. The sweetness that was there in the nose is present in an initial caramel flavour but changes quite quickly to a bitter aftertaste. On further drinking (and after some grub) this develops into quite a characterful tanginess. However there's not an awful lot for your saliva to play with afterwards. The sensation in the mouth is a touch insipid and is a result of the lack of body in the beer.

So unfortunately that leaves me wanting a little. The taste is lacking the sparkle needed to lift it from the pack and its label blends in to a mush of monk-age (although he is particularly cheery). However, I will be going back to the Kerkom brewery, not just because I love their website, but because their other beers are called 'Bink'. Now there's a name you can remember.

Adelardus Tripel - 6.5

Bear Beer/Beer Bear

Aaah, it's a photo of a bear! No, I don't mean 'Aaagh, it's a photo of a bear!', I mean it's kind of sweet and charming. I'm not phobic of photos of our ursine chums. Hmm, there's a fine line between 'Aaah' and 'Aagh' isn't there, for such opposite feelings. Anyhoo...

Why would La Binchoise choose the name Biere des Ours (Beer of Bears) for this drink? Well, they describe it as 'Belgian Honey Beer' and, as everyone knows, bears love honey! And salmon. But I think honey goes best with beer.

Once again, I chose this beer blind; I was in La Binchoise section on my favourite beer site (www.beersofeurope.com) and decided to go for something other than the Blonde or Dubbel. I was hoping that perhaps 'Ours' beer was a specific type, not having done the extensive Googling that I've just done to find out it simply means bear. I'm trying to be as indiscriminate as possible in my choice to get as wide a selection as possible, so I hope you'll let me off here. We live and learn.

Funnily enough, I was expecting a dark beer (I'd not yet read the bit about honey on the label). The dark red label on the dark brown bottle reminded me of Chimay Red, Westmalle Dubbel and Bocq Christmas. It is a particularly wintry shade of red, so once again the label works against me. But I like a surprise, and what a golden shade of surprise it was. I imagine it's only brewers who get excited about the colour of beers, but this is one to be proud of. 

Once in the glass, it was time to get the schnoz involved. Instead of the honey I was expecting, there was a definite smell of clean straw. Well, at least that's what I reckon... maybe I shouldn't have said definite... I suppose I'd better stick with it now. Moreover, it was the lack of honey which surprised me more, as opposed to the presence of straw. It is a honey beer after all, not a straw beer, so points lost here I'm afraid. The aroma was much gentler than one would expect, considering its 8% strength, there was no alcoholic smack in the face and just the faintest hint of flowery hops. So, all in all, pleasant, but not outstanding.

The fizziness which you generally find in Belgian beers is not the type you get in lagers, there's a lot more sophistication to it, and Biere des Ours is a fine example of this. I guess I can compare it more to champagne; the bubbles are smaller but greater in number, giving your mouth a smoother massage than the coarse lager/fizzy pop bubbles. That's what becomes of artificial carbonation, I suppose.

As I drunk more and more it got better and better, which is possibly the holy grail to which all beers (and drinks) should aspire to. I know I favour the maltier, darker beer but if I had to have one criticism of them overall, it would be that they can occasionally become a little too rich in the final third, moreso with the stronger variants. Lighter beers don't have the inital impact that is so easy to get excited about. Shame on me for being so fickle.

When finished my tongue was coated in that comforting thick saliva that one associates with quality beer, with plenty of sweetness and the over-riding taste of clean, fresh straw. It's as if the brewers had thiefed a load of straw from a beautiful nativity display and steeped the beer in it before bottling. Perhaps that's why they used that festive red on the bottle.

La Binchoise Biere des Ours - 7.5

http://www.labinchoise.be/

Highland Scotch

I'd seen Gordon's Finest Scotch Ale round and about for years. In fact, about ten years ago I was in an off-licence in Bristol, Corks of Cotham (I hope it's still there) with some mates and found it in the Belgian section. We asked the very helpful chap in the shop what is was doing there, and he told us that it was a marketing tactic. Just like here in Britain, we get sold 'real Australian lager' and 'India's finest' blah blah, what we really get is the type of mass produced lager that millions of Brits guzzle weekend after weekend, i.e. they've made a beer specifically for the market but given it an international appeal. He supposed that Belgians love that quaint Highland, tartan appeal so quite fancy drinking a bottle with a tartan label.

Now, I reckon that he's probably right about Scotland's quaint, historic appeal, but Scotch Ale is in itself a 'type' of beer. Now, without getting too much into beer types, because in my opinion there are far too many of which there's little to discern between, Scotch ale was typically very strong (around 8%) and malty, and we know the Scots know what they're doing with that stuff!

So, class, can anyone think of a 8%, dark and malty beer? Abbey-style Dubbel springs to my mind! So, it seems that it would make perfect sense to make beer in Belgium and whack a tartan sticker on it and the Belgian's would lap it up. (Or maybe they'd prefer the branded thistle-shaped glass!).

So, what's it like? Well, having pretty much answered my question already, you could convince me that this was a standard Abbey Dubbel. There's not heaps of hops on the nose and just a hint of sourness behind the sweet malt. In fact, it's that sourness which gives it the character that is necessary from stopping it being a very average, if not perfectly drinkable, dark, strong beer. That and the fact that it's a Scottish beer in a Belgian glass.

It struck me as almost identical to a beer I'd drunk a month or so ago, called Ename Dubbel, which left me struggling to come up with more than 50 words to say about it. Gordon's has only made its appearance here because if its odd identity. That reminds me, I'll soon make a round up of all other beers that have either failed to inspire me or I've failed to finish recently so as to truly have as comprehensive record of everything I've drunk along with my baseless opinion.

Uninspiring as Gordon's beer was, it's ironically inspired me to go and search out some original Scotch Ale to see if it's anything like this one, or indeed Gordon's have Belgianified the drink and the bloke at 'Corks' was indeed right.

Gordon's Highland Scotch - 7.5
http://www.anthonymartin.be/en/our-beers/gordon-finest-beers/gordon-finest-scotch.aspx

Hercule!

Swing tops. Why don't all beers have them? The Ellezelloise brewery certainly agree with me. All of their beers are capped with a lovely, swingy lid that goes "phopp!" which, translated to English, shouts "Yeeahh!". What other noise could possibly prepare you more for a tasty beverage? "Pfst"? Not on your nelly. Plus, there's always that giddy feeling after it makes you jump a little, like a five-year-old when a balloon pops.


Not content with having fancy lids, Ellezelloise furnish you with a handsome bottle and some smart Art Nouveau labels. What's that you say, "who's that there on the label?". It's only ruddy well Hercule Poirot, curly 'tache and all. The coffee shades on the label prepare us all well for the rich drink inside and are effortlessly cool. They haven't tried too hard, they've just got it spot on.


Ok, on to what's inside and the theme of effortless excellence is continued here. Hercule Stout's colour is rich brown and the head stays at a centimetre for at least halfway down the glass. These guys aren't messing around. My first sniff gave rich, fruity, hoppiness and it gives the impression of a beefy Dubbel, which is surprising as when you pop in your mouth there's one thing and one thing only: smoke. Smoke and more smoke; the dying embers of a fireplace in a stately home. But then you get the rich maltiness and sweet caramel that you'd find in a quality stout, with a modest helping of Belgian flavour. As you carry on, and particularly if drank with food, the smoke fades gently away to just a suggestion.


On drinking this glass I happened to come back to the last few fingers in the bottom after short interlude. When sniffing again I found that the smoke was more present in the smell than the taste this time. There's not much better than a beer which gives you different things on different visits (provided they're good things, mind).


If it came down to quantitative praise, you've guessed it, I'd give it ten out of ten. The only downside is its price; at £3.69 from a reasonably priced online retailer it's very dear, but worth it in my book. Saying that, if you don't like your beer tasting like someone's left a spent cigar in it, you might want to think twice, but I'd advise you take a risk.

Ellezelloise Hercule Stout - 10
http://www.brasserie-ellezelloise.be/bieres-uk.shtml#L'Hercule

Anticipation's Retribution

A Bisto advert once told me “save the best for last” so I diligently tucked away my bottle of Zatte Bie from De Bie brewery at the back of my fridge. Unfortunately, whilst I know what to expect from the generic beefy soup in the famous red tub, Zatte Bie gave me no clues.

If you’ve read my other posts you’ll know when it comes to beer bottles, I judge a book by its cover (and of course judge books on their bottle labels). I know I had a real dig at De Dulle Teve for having a label that looks like a child’s drawing, but for some inconsistent reason, that’s where this beer’s bottle has its appeal. There’s a silly picture of a snoozing farmer under a beehive which gives it a quaint ‘small brewery’ appeal. De Dolle’s label was plain weird. De Bie are making no attempt to be arty here, that’s for sure.

So, light humour; small, independent brewery and a funky name: sign me up!

I didn’t know what to expect in terms of style but I like a nice surprise. I had an inkling that it might be on the dark side and perhaps a little murky and I wasn’t far off.  Dark, amber, approaching stout-esque colouring with a handsome portion of sediment at the bottom of the bottle, for those who like that kind of grit. Top that off (literally) with a creamy, rich head staying put at the top of my glass. Things were looking good.

My wife poured her glass first and I had a sneaky sniff and for a second I thought she’d not rinsed her glass out properly. So I made sure I did with mine (like the nice chaps on De Bie’s website tell you to).  But I got the same, washing-up liquid smell that you sometimes can get. My heart sank. I took another waft to try and find something else, but alas, nothing if not more metallic aromas.

So I sipped through the handsome head to get a taste, hoping things would get better. Unfortunately it didn’t; it was so metallic I felt I was supping it straight from a tap. Big shame. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not talking about a beer that is so hideous I can’t stomach the whole bottle but it wasn’t offering much in terms of character on top of the iron tang.  Dinner soon followed, and with a tasty meal the iron filings soon became more subdued.

I’m a sucker for character though, and whilst the beer is definitely distinctly lacking it, the brewery’s charms have won me over and I’ve got a feeling I’ll be going back to try another one of their beers. Hopefully my expectations will be a little lower and they’ll have hit the mark next time.

De Bie Zatte Bie - 5

http://www.brijdebie.be/eng/products/p/3-zatte-bie