Friday, 30 September 2016

Schwaben Brau- Clearer by the End of the Week

Blue skies herald the beginning of the weekend. Today September is dying hard, burning away into October with a summery curse on its lips. Friday night rolls into town beneath a retreating sun, wide eyed and thirsty.

This week I have been drinking beers from German brewery Schwaben Brau, which are currently on sale at Aldi branches throughout the UK. It's time for the final beer, a bright and clear Pilsner called Das Helle, to come chip away at the hangover that its cloudy sibling Das Naturtrub started up last night.

Thursday, 29 September 2016

Schwaben Brau- the Haze Comes Down

A hazy beer for a hazy day, with a low Autumn sun cracking its knuckles and preparing to cause countless rush hour fender benders, Das Naturtrub from Schwaben Brau sits smug and cloudy in its half litre swing-top. The fourth of the five German imports currently carried by Aldi UK, and the second last in this little series. 

Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Schwaben Brau- Festivities Continue!

In Stuttgart they are making merry. The Canstatter Volksfest is in full swing. An Autumn festival which happens to include a huge amount of beer drinking is probably the best kind of festival there is, and while it absolutely sucks that I'm missing it, as well as the Oktoberfest in Munich because of course I could make myself appear in two places at the same time if beer was involved, a bottle of Schwaben Brau's VolksfestBier sits before me, glistening with perspiration like a prize-winning dray horse.

Aldi UK is stocking five of Schwaben Brau's beers at the moment for £1.79 a bottle, and I'm drinking them every night of the week for you all. Tonight is the turn of the beer brewed specially for the festival that I'm missing.

Tuesday, 27 September 2016

Schwaben Brau- Darkness and Light

"I'll have my own Oktoberfest", I say to the ghosts of dead beers that float through my little house. "I'll have my own Oktoberfest", I say to the moths in my bank account. "I'll have my own Oktoberfest", I transmit psychically to the Aldi cashier as I pack my bag with bottles of Schwaben Brau beer. None of them hear me and I go home clanking and thirsty.

Wednesday, 7 September 2016

Sixpoint Resin

There is hype, and then there's anticipation. There's the machinations of a slick hype machine, a "GABBO IS COMING" sign on every corner, and then there is the internal clamouring for a beer that seems just out of reach, just a short hop over the Bastard Atlantic.

For two years this reporter has tormented himself with hopes of Sixpoint Brewery's Resin Double IPA crossing that damned ocean and arriving in his sticky and noisy Wetherspoon's, to the extent that any hype there might have been from the brewery has slipped by him.

The slender can with the all-caps word that promises dank and cannibinoid scents, the alcoholic volume that threatened sweet obliteration and the Beeradvocate scores that promised I would either be extremely let down or very much in agreement, all of this has crossed the sea. 

Two cans of Resin are on the table in front of me, in John the Clerk of Cramlington, along with a smiling-faced rubber beanbag toy abandoned at the table by its prior occupants. Resin is here and I'm opening the can up right now. 

Thursday, 25 August 2016

Cramlington Festival Triple Threat

The universe creaks as the stars align. The August Bank Holiday looms and beer festivals are once more uncaged from their prison in the Shadow Zone and roam the Earth with impunity. Ravenous, they are, and legion.

The Plough is a public house in my home town of Cramlington (although I do have a bit of a laugh, off and on, about how I live across the road in East Hartford now) and this weekend a beer festival is happening there. For maybe two weeks Jamie, a friend of mine who works there (ring the nepotism alarm!) has been texting me updates on the increasingly "craft" roster of beers she's been putting together.

Into my hands, tonight, went three bottles from this list, a teamsheet of excellent beers both home and away, which puts Cramlington- a town remarkable for appearing in a Biggles book, and for Sting once working here- in an excellent beery light.

Eskimo Joe, from Fierce Beer, looks like a double hard bastard. For a start, the Fierce logo- a pissed-off looking hop, looks it's just about reached its limit for this shit. More obvious than this, though, is the fact that the label art features a polar bear in Inuit garb that is just straight up screaming, You know you're in for a good time when there's a polar bear on the bottle. 

Friday, 19 August 2016

Live Beer Blogging From EBBC16

This was a live event, in which I and about 75 other beer bloggers and writers took part in live beer blogging from the European Beer Bloggers Conference in Amsterdam. I have tidied up a few grammatical errors and placed a couple of links I couldn't place at the time. Photographs were taken as I wrote but added later. 

Kompaan Brewery, the second beer I encountered this morning, are first at our table. We're to have five minutes with each brewery, and there are ten in total.

Caps are cracked on bottles of their double IPA, Handlanger. At 8.2% this beer's name translates to "accomplice"- a dangerous companion, the brewers say.

It pours hazy and the colour of dry and dead grass, if grass could blush. This is a good thing. On the nose, bright and pointed fruit. Bitter orange rules over the taste.

Oersoep Microbrewery  are at our table now. They labour over bottle openers as they uncork bottles of Brettalicious. Sour lime, mint, gooseberry and grapefruit scents levitate above the beer, a colour somewhere close to gold dust. Hazy and full of promise. The taste, subtle, refreshing and shimmering bright. Sourness is there, but a relaxed sourness Floral. The aftertaste puckers the mouth. I forgot to photograph this one.

Our next sample is from Maximus Brewery, a number named Saison 5. I'm feeling a little buzzed by this point, these delicious products lying comfortable on my breakfast beers. The requisite farmhouse taste is there but subdued, comforting and low in hop notes.

It is the colour of the early stages of a sunset over East Hartford; my home, and a village I suddenly miss terribly.

White Label from Brouwerij Emelisse appears at our table with an Imperial Russian stout and it's probably time to start living like a Tsar. Chocolate mated with whisk(e)y, or the former slammed into the latter, are the overpowering scents. Looking like an ancient biker jacket that has been liquidised, and tasting of smoky, bitter and ashen coffee, the black coffee of a hangover morning. There are torched caramel elements to the taste that suggest nothing less than an utterly evil Mars Bar.

Brouweirij Kees Barrel Project #05/2016 arrives. It pours beautiful petroleum for a glass filled with cassock-black beer. They leave the bottle. It's an oatmeal stout, lightly spicy and thick on the tongue. They leave the bottle. It's 10% ABV. This is the beginning of the descent, as I dive into a pool of smoky black milk.

It's time to revisit the work of Oedipus Brewery, whose Thai Thai Saison I experienced last night. This beer is called Swingers. a Gose beer (brewed with salt and way nicer than it sounds), soured with lactobacillus (what's up, chemistry nerds) and instantly both thirst and hunger inducing. Someone chopper out a Papa Johns to me right (Amster)damn now.

It hits the senses hard with bitter and bright premium flavours of gummi. Imagine craft gummi and you'e nailed it.

Brouwerij De Prael are another team that leave us the bottle. Their IPA lands on our table. It pours a filthily gorgeous conglomerate of dirty brass and peach in the shadows. The scent is grapefruit. It smells like the few months when, aged 19, I read a book about the Rat Pack and thought I was Frank Sinatra. There is wonderful grapefruit bitterness that crackles like lighting through the mouth.

In T-shirts that seep rockabilly sleaze, the Brouwerij T'IJ team arrive at this boozy speed dating event. They drop upon us their IPA. Dry hopped with citra and mosaic hops, I launch myself at it and pour out too much, vexing Mrs Beer Snob but making amends with a pour-out of mine to hers. The gold of sailor's buttons, again a scent of grapefruit, sharper than the last. Piercing. The taste crashes banana, citrus and more banana against the tongue


Number nine arrives! With a smoked porter called Koud Vuir (cold fire, how metal is that?) Bax Bier make their entrance. Tamer than the unhinged rauchbiers from Germany, it's sessionable if you can get away with the smoky flavour (and this reporter can, and so can you if you dig smoked meat of any kind, I GUARANTEE IT

Duits and Laurent Brewery, hailing from Utrecht, throw the final ball of the match with a wood-aged doppelbock, liquid bread for fasting monks as legend has it. It hits at 7.5%, the taste of the wood obvious, cozy, warming and wonderfully meaty. This medium rare beer has the aspect of well-loved leather, wingbacked and patrician. It really does feel like a meal in a glass, which is pretty good for this thirsty and now quite lit beer scrivener who hasn't eaten since he forced half a sandwich into himself at breakfast.

And with that, the beery speed date is over. A bus leaves at 17:45 to take us on a suicide mission to Jopen Brewery in Haarlem. Those of us who are about to drink (even more) salute you.