A big, busty, boozy babe

I haven't had much luck with strong Italian beer. Most of the time it is merely a stronger version of a bland thirst slaker that curiously manages to taste of just as little.

I picked up this 'Birra Artiganale' in a fabulous Roman shop richly stocked with a truly mind boggling selection of wine, olive oil, pasta, meat, cheese and chocolate. Predictably the beer selection was limited, but it gave an inkling of the small yet tenacious craft brewing industry that is taking shape in Italy.

The marketing is crass (this is but one of the beers I bought. The others included a busty red head and curvaceous brunette) but it is not entirely surprising coming from the land of Silvio Berlusconi. I can't imagine that the matronly woman on the label would be invited to one of Berlusconi's infamous 'bunga bunga' parties. He likes his women younger and slimmer if the tabloids are to be believed.

La Tabachera is a big hitting beer - the 10% abv is evident on the nose and on the tongue, but is surprisingly light for such a big beer. It is warming with whipped cream foam that faded all to quickly. The colour is an attractive copper, something not very often seen in Italian beer and more surprisingly it throws a chill haze demonstrating the brewer's commitment to unflitered ale. There's plenty of sweet honey malt to keep up the interest without any cloying, no hops to speak of but a slight chemical note bordering on industrial makes it hard to fully enjoy things.

This beer certainly stands out from all other Italian beer, even the handful of craft ales available. You can't help but think that the future of Italian craft beer rests on the ample shoulders of this woman and her equally well endowed friends.

Three in a row

Lidl often have a few Shepheard Neame bottles about the place but I tend to shy from them because of the clear glass and homogeneity of hue. This time I decided to grab all three on offer and taste them all at once.

They share a lot in common; all are 4% abv, all require a degree of scrutiny to distinguish a difference in colour and all are faintly light struck. How do they differ? By quite a bit thankfully. When tasted sequentially they prove to be an interesting waltz through the world of Kentish ale. Autumn Blaze is perhaps most quintessentially English giving toffee, a full body, lovely Goldings hops up front and some cold tea tannins. Tapping the Admiral is a lighter affair - sweetish with a marshmallow like sensation on the tongue, little on the nose and worst afflicted by light strike. Can't say I tasted too much of the brandy mentioned on the label,  but the sweetness got to me after a while. Thumping in last of all came Rudolph's Revenge, a seasonal offering packed full of earthy hops and a lingering bitterness resting on reassuring malt. There was something festive in there that I couldn't quite place, but it added a little something to an already solid ale and made it the best of them for my money.

Dog Beer

I've been a away a while. Partly taking a break from the world of the internet and also because I was busy working on other things. This is not the best beer to give my blog the kick start it badly needs, but it'll do. Gimmicky doesn't begin to cover this stuff but I was unashamedly drawn right in. I bought it for the hound dog that patrols the land around my in-laws farm in Mayo. He loved the stuff, as well he might because there is a healthy does of beef extract in it. Along with the beef there is lactic acid and malt extract. I can't give you any tasting notes because I was reluctant to drink it. Also the ingredients don't inspire confidence, even for our canine friends; 'crude protein, crude fat, crude fibre and crude ash' are the main constituents, so I'm thinking snouts, trotters and tripe as the source. The glaring exception in the make up of the 'beer' is of course hops. None to be had, which is probably just as well because I more than likely would have tasted it if there had been. Wouldn't you?

Doppelgänger

Does this label look a lot like Pilsner Urquell, or is it just me? It provoked a double take on my part when I spotted it out of the corner of my eye in the local Spar. For a moment I thought it was some manner of re-branding by the big Czech brewer, but soon realised it was a lookalike attempting to piggy back on hard won marketing of Pilsner Urquell. Interestingly this beer is brewed in Slovakia by a no doubt once proud independent brewer that is now owned by Heineken. I wonder if Slovak brewers are at all jealous of the huge success enjoyed by their once countrymen in the Czech Republic? Zlaty Bazant isn't quite as enjoyable as Pilsner Urquell; it is harsher without the effortless mellow character that I like in latter, but the nose is similar with wonder floral hops and the body has the same satisfying and distinctive malt found in lager from around those parts. Overall it's a heavier, boozier affair with a bit more DMS too, giving a slight veggie note that I don't particularly care for.


I suppose I have fallen into an inevitable comparison with Pilsner Urquell, but that's what you get when you market your beer in a perilously similar way to one of the most enjoyable lagers in the world. Sadly it was also inevitable that the comparison would be unfavourable.

Just Peachy

One of the finest aspects of the many hop varieties available to brewers is the myriad fruit flavours and aromas that these little green leaves add to beer. Citrus notes are very pleasant, as are tropical fruit flavours such as mango. Golden Glory from Badger has a 'floral blend of aromatic and bitter hops', but there is no way that these hops alone can account for the fruity smell and flavour. The beer reeks of peaches and melon - surely the result of the addition of some fresh fruit or essence. I have never come across an ale with such a fruity aroma and flavour and find it hard to believe that it stems from hops alone. There is no mention on the label of fruit being added during the brew but the 'unmistakable peach aroma' is acknowledged.

Despite the fruity kick in the face, this beer is quite pleasant. It is sweet but not in the sickly way that Blandford Fly assaulted the palate. The body and bitterness blend well with the sweetness and make this an enjoyable experience. Summer is undoubtedly the time to fully appreciate this beer - it is refreshing, but the pong from the glass really takes some getting over.

It looks good, tastes good and, by golly, it does you good!

I'm doing well in the low alcohol beer stakes. Manns Brown Ale satisfied me earlier and now a few cans of Mackeson Stout picked up during a trip to Northern Ireland are doing the job just as well. I've had an interest in Mackeson stout ever since my father declared that one of my first attempts at a home brewed stout tasted like it, and recited with gusto the now defunked Mackeson advertising slogan: "It Looks good, tastes good and, by golly, it does you good!" He remembered clearly the days when this stout was recommended to nursing mothers and anyone else in need of nourishment. Nowadays such statements fall foul of all kinds of advertising standards political correctness insanity despite the obvious truth to the statement. It is nutritional, and taken in moderation is a valid and welcome part of anyone's diet.

Looking back it is no surprise he drew the comparison between my stout and this one. Mine was made from heavy, sickly bitter sweet dark liquid malt extract and finished up with a high final gravity, providing plenty of residual sweetness. That's what Mackeson stout gives up too - a sweet/bitter mix with plenty of body. The full body and sweetness comes from the addition of lactose, a sugar that brewers' yeast cannot metabolise, leaving it in the finished beer. Once again, like Manns this little beer is satisfying and full despite the wee 3% abv. I must admit to having more respect for Manns because the brewers have made the beer satisfying through skilful use of malts and mashing, while brewers of Mackeson stout use lactose to pad things out, which let's face it, is cheating. It is a shame that Inbev now produce this lovely little beer because it is the very antithesis of big industry, in its little can that provides all of one unit of alcohol.

Beer, but not as we know it

Ginger is featuring a lot in my beer drinking. This time it's a bit different. This is ginger beer in the true sense of the word - an alcoholic version of the stuff bought in the local shop. I suppose it's a viable form of beer - it's all too easy to get trapped into the restricted thinking of beer being composed solely of malt and hops, but ginger beer has neither. Most of us can live with our beer being spiced with vegetative items other than hops, and can also countenance grains other than barley, but is this stuff beer in the sense we understand it? I don't really care to be honest.

The ginger leaps from the glass and pulls the hair from your nostrils, making the eyes almost water. I love this in decent ginger beer. The heat on the tongue matches the zing in the nose, but it's sweet - too much for me, but to make things worse there is an unpleasant after taste that is the unmistakable faintly bitter note of artificial sweetener, which is a shame. Perhaps a dose of hops might fix that...

Recognition

M&S can always be relied upon to provide some of the tastiest nibbles on the high street. Sadly the beer selection often does not match the quality of the food on offer. In Ireland we generally don't get the beer that is on sale in the UK. I do not know who decides which of the available M&S beers make their way to Irish shelves, but he/she must be influenced by sales alone because until recently only the blandest of English ale made it. I imagine their thought processes were along the lines of the Irish not being interested in English ale, what with all the Guinness we have to drink over here. In part they are correct - except that the Irish are in fact much like the British in that the beer of choice is lager, every bit as cold and bland as that on sale in the UK. Being persistently disappointed by the beer on offer has curtailed my trips to M&S, but last weekend I hit pay dirt in one of the larger stores in west Dublin. I was greeted with a wide range of beers from around Europe, not to mention some promising English ale. I grabbed a few and headed for the till.

Another strange aspect of the beer from M&S is the mysterious nature of it. Rarely is the brewery listed on the bottle - we merely have to accept that M&S source only the very best of food and drink. This practise left Irish beer lovers trying to figure out who was brewing the M&S Irish Stout that was on sale all over the UK. It turned out to be The Carlow Brewing Company, and true to their selection strategy, they couldn't have picked a better stout. Another example of this was their Cornish IPA, which turned out to be St Austell's hop packed Proper Job  - a beer not made available in Ireland.

The guessing games are over now. On these most recent bottles full recognition is given to the brewery, and not before time. As a result we now know that their solid Norfolk Bitter comes from Woodeforde's. While the silky sweet Cheshire Chocolate Porter comes from Unicorn Brewery of Stockport, and their rich malty Southwold Winter Beer can be attributed to Adnams and is likely a derivation of their Broadside recipe.

It is important to know who brews the beer we drink so we might give recognition for great achievement, or know to steer clear in the future.

Sweet Fire Fly

My last run in with an ale spiced with ginger was a hit and miss affair. The colour was great, as was the dry warmth the ginger added, but it was gassy and thin. Blandford Fly from Badger is an eqully mixed bag, but for different reasons. Once again the colour is alluring, as is the distinct ginger whiff from the rich foam. On the tongue the ginger asserts itself as a none too subtle heat that lingers on the roof of the mouth. The carbonation is just about right, and this, coupled with full body makes for satisfying drinking. Something didn't quite sit right though. The mild bitterness seems to fight against a distinct sweetness that grew more unpalatable with each return to the glass, until, with half the bottle gone, I declared myself sick of it. Where does this sweetness come from? Maple syrup. I hadn't given the label my full attention and did not notice it on the blurb, so was quite surprised when I scrutinised the bottle more carefully. I don't see the need for it. The ginger addition was well balanced adding a nice zing, but the sweetness overpowered my ailing palate. Perhaps the beer would not be the same at all without the maple syrup - it is very likely responsible for the full body I enjoyed. It seems like a strange combo too, making the beer like some manner of dessert. Perhaps a small glass, just after dinner is the way to enjoy this strange ale.

No better Mann

Brewing beer with low alcohol content and therefore utilising small quantities of malt during the brew, but still managing to make the beer satisfying is quite a challenge. English brewers are rather good at it, knocking out any number of moreish ales at 3.5% abv. However most of these beers are at their best on cask and do not take well to being captured in a bottle. Young's Bitter comes to mind - gorgeous on cask but thin and gassy in the bottle. So, how have brewers of Manns Brown Ale managed to produce an ale of a mere 2.8% abv that is very satisfying despite being shoved in  a bottle? It's a trick I would like to learn. I don't like the way that the label seems to push the beer as a mere cooking ingredient because it holds its own very well as a stand alone drink. There is surprisingly rich roasted notes, but more importantly the malt satisfies, and this is often the big let down in beer of this strength. What am I saying, 'this strength'? This stuff is far weaker than the average pint of session ale on offer in Britain which makes its drinkability all the more surprising.

Surprise delivery

I've been away awhile. Haven't much to write amount in truth. I had the privilege of working Christmas day in the lab, which proved to be more depressing than I thought it would be. I was kept busy with incidents of gastroenteritis, no doubt a result of poorly prepared Christmas dinners. I didn't get out to a single pub over the holiday season either. A couple of days before a roaring open fire in the windswept West of Ireland did my heart good as did a lively wedding just after New Year. There was little in the way of interesting beer to be had until a surprise delivery from the nice people at CAMRA arrived. It seems the lads at Realale.com fixed their delivery issues by using a courier that I suggested to them. So bottled real ale is flowing in my house once again. I grazed on the delivery over the last week or so and declare myself quite happy with it.

Hobson's Choice proved to be a golden ale I could really get on with. I have griped about English golden ale in the past, with good reason, but this one really bucked the trend with lip smacking bitterness, full body and rounded malt.

Cheddar Ale's Totty Pot started a little weak wristed but soon gave up the goods upon warming - treacle like roasted notes were the reward for not rushing.  

Grumpling Old Ale was a solid, if uneventful ruby ale. Plenty of malt and fullness but fairly typical of many other ales. There are a lot of these ales in CAMRA deliveries, but it doesn't stop me from enjoying them.

Palmerston's Folly was unusual for a winter selection - a sweet ale with a decent dose of wheat made for refreshing drinking, but seemed incongruous among the heavier ales.

The most striking ale came from Wiltshire in the shape of Chimera IPA - heftily hopped with English fare and authentic at 7% abv. A fine beer with uncompromising bitterness and malt to match.

Deliveries are bimonthly now, instead of quarterly so I can look forward to even more tasty beer this year than last. True, there are quite often a dud beer or two to be had but on the whole my CAMRA beer instalment is well worth anticipating.

Run for the Border

It's not really lager weather but I seem to have stumbled upon quite a few over the last few weeks. Some were very good while others missed the mark by a country mile. A trip to Newry a few weeks ago brought some lager to my attention that generally I wouldn't bother with, but the cost of alcohol in the North of Ireland is dramatically cheaper than the south, partly due to the British government's policy of effectively devaluing the pound against the Euro through various means, but also the VAT rate is lower up North. Excise is lower too. All this makes for dirt cheap consumer goods and explains why shoppers from the South of Ireland have spent over half a billion Euro in the north over the last twelve months.

My main beer objective up north was to put a dent in the selection of British ales on offer in Sainsburys. I bagged a number of ales but couldn't help picking up four cans of Basic Lager for 99p. I wouldn't have bought the stuff if it was regular strength, it was the 2% abv that got me. I had to try it, but got exactly what I anticipated - the wateriest beer I have ever tasted. There was a twinge of malt at the end and the overall flavour wasn't unpleasant, perhaps if the flavour was twice as strong it would have passed for a half decent lager. The second lager tangent was Biere des Moulon Continental, a first for me in that it came in a green plastic screw top bottle. The beer was awful, - nothing to do with the packaging, it was just a musty, bland lager, which isn't typical of most French lagers, though most can hardly be accused of a strong, distinctive flavour.

Frankfurter Premium Pils surprised me during a brief stop off at my local Aldi. Nothing new had turned up for a while on their shelves so it was nice to see a new beer on special offer. In my experience the lager in Aldi is generally good. Sure it's hop extract laden and somewhat industrial feeling, but the purity law in Germany, though not strictly binding any more, means that most brewers do not water their grist down with adjuncts. Therefore I am always hopeful that the malt aspect will satisfy. Frankfurter Pils hits the spot in this regard along with crisp bitterness and a whiff of hops. Great stuff and just as cheap as anything available up North.