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.

Out with the old...

Some American wheat beers do not measure up at all. The very worst of them seem to use the requisite measure of wheat that might be anticipated in the more traditional wheat beers found around Europe, but then neglect to use a suitable strain of yeast. Often a standard ale strain is used that contributes little to the flavour and leaves a beer with an insipid palate, lacking any of the usual wheat beer flavour. Speakeasy's White Lightning springs to mind in this category and Sierra Nevada's wheat beer was guilty of this to a degree, but it wasn't the worst of them by a long stretch. The brewers a Chico must have become a little self conscious about the poorer quality of their wheat beer when compared to the rest of their generally outstanding work because the SN standard wheat was replaced with a Kellerweis.

This one ticks most of the wheat beer boxes when it comes to aroma and flavour. It looks the part too, holding on to rich foam and pouring a hazy gold. Plenty of banana and cloves along with a pronounced phenolic note suggesting that a very flavoursome yeast was put to work. Initially the phenol was so strong it bordered on the sort of intensity I suffered in home brew that went bad. But this passes after a few sips leaving a more authentic Bavarian style wheat beer, a cut above most other American attempts.

I suppose the question has to be asked if American brewers actually want their wheat beers to taste like Bavarian clones. The lack of spicy character in most suggests that this was a deliberate attempt to make a beer style all of their own. This seems to be the case to me because experienced American brewers know exactly why Bavarian wheat beer tastes as it does; the yeast strain is key to it, yet many American brewers deliberately neglected to use these strains resulting in a beer with a very different, and for my money, far less satisfying flavour. Sierra Nevada saw fit to change the profile of their wheat beer. It is a change for the better, but it makes me wonder what was key to their decision. Sales I imagine, but perhaps the previous incarnation is just an unsustainable style of beer.

Ginger nut

I can't recall having a ginger ale before. Of course I've had the alcohol free version many times - it's a favourite of mine, especially Fentimans interpretation. (Their cola is pretty damn good too, and something of a curiosity to me because I find it tastes exactly like cola bottles, which is great, but I would never have considered cola bottles to be a very authentic cola containing foodstuff, but Fentimans cola is definitely more natural than other of the major producers, so perhaps the humble cola bottle deserves more respect).

Anyway, back to the alcoholic version. In Keystone Brewery Gold Spice the ginger is  vaguely present in the form of a mild, yet pleasant dry heat in the back of the throat. Even without the ginger this would be a dry beer; it has little residual body and an irrepressible stream of bubble sustaining frothy foam throughout. The bottled yeast were clearly hard at work during the conditioning of this beer. There is English hop character in there somewhere too, both aroma and a distinct bitterness, but the intense condition makes the carbon dioxide burn a little and a metallic note creeps in with it. The best part in the colour of the beer; it really lives up to its name, sporting a stunning golden hue with brilliant clarity.

This beer arrived with my last CAMRA beer club delivery, but disaster has struck. CAMRA recently outsourced the distribution and selection of their beer club to realale.com  - a company I recently visited in London and were very impressed with, however they claim to have had bad luck with deliveries to Ireland in the past, with missing boxes and broken bottles occurring all too regularly. One or two of my deliveries suffered this fate, so realale.com are struggling to find a more reliable courier firm. The problem is that most couriers want to charge a fortune for delivery to Ireland. The cost isn't much of a surprise -  the average box of goodies from CAMRA weighs in excess of  20 kilograms. So it looks likes no more deliveries for me in the near future until they broker a better deal. I must confess to being a little irritated.

Light surprise

It's always nice to see a new beer on the shelves, especially when it turn turns up in an unlikely place. I spotted Wolters Pilsener in my local Spar convenience store while wandering around on mundane domestic duties. The green bottle frightened me right off, as all victims of noxious light struck beers will no doubt understand. But on closer inspection of the stock I spied six packs of the beer, with the bottles huddled tightly inside, shielding themselves timidly from the skunk inducing light. I grabbed a pack and made off home.

It is very light for a traditional pilsner - only 4% abv and sadly this comes through in the palate. While the classic lager malt and slight DMS are present it has none of the malt fullness usually found in such beers and all flavour is rinsed from the mouth far too quickly.

Perhaps I am scrutinising this beer to closely. In different conditions, a long, cold draught of this stuff would hit the spot nicely and the low alcohol content might tempt you to try another. It sure beats most of the other light flavoured lagers that we all turn to on holiday in sunny climates, but knowledge of its country of origin sets you up for a fall. Perhaps it would make a good mystery beer.