As-Live Tasting: BrewDog/Mikkeller I Hardcore You

8.10pm: Cap popped off and a routine sniff down the bottle neck gets the olfactory gland’s excited attention. This is an As-Live Tasting of BrewDog and Mikkeller's I Hardcore You.

8.12pm: Poured out and photographed, the beer is beside me at the computer and it’s billowing out aromas capable of inducing intense nosegasms.

8.15pm: Swirl, sniff and slurp. A massive pine attack, hop-overload; a jammy depth to it, something like strawberry chewy sweets; a peppery-ness, herbaceous like a forest during the summer after a flash thunderstorm rocks the earth and trees. It’s good looking, red like the very edge of a lick of flame, a thick head slipping down to a lasting lace.  

8.20pm: It should be noted that there’s a programme about Cheryl Cole on in the background so I’m liable to be heavily distracted during this as-live posting.

8.20pm: Somehow the bottle is half-finished. The mega dry-hopped aroma leads the way into the velvety body which bursts of summer fruit and even a hint of vanilla ice cream, then out with a bitterness not too big to clear your sinuses but big enough to claw to your tongue until the next eager mouthful. The balance in this beer rocks. The hops kick off but the sweetness beneath that is enough to calm it down.

8.30pm: The Cheryl programme reaches the adverts so time for a burst of typing... It’s diving down my beer hole in no time at all, dangerously fast in fact, as my head is feeling the distant buzz of booze. At 9.5% this beer is a monster, but it’s a cuddly, lovely monster that makes you want to play with it all afternoon, not run away screaming at its hideousness. Talking of hideous, the label is far from it, and is one of the nicest looking I’ve seen this year – a simple spearmint green, a girl and a boy (the boy looking at a chalice of beer, or perhaps the girl’s boobs; the girl looking into the boy’s eyes – go figure), a tree with an etched I Hardcore You. It’s printed in Danish but it’s somehow understandable to this English-only reader.

8.36pm: I just stood up and the button of my shorts burst off. Seriously. I naturally wailed like a small boy and Lauren promised to sow it back on for me (I’m only writing this as proof to remind Lauren of what she said).

8.40pm: It’s now pertinent to mention Zak Avery. He had this beer last week (I’m behind the times, I know, but I had the beer delivered to my parents house, where, incidentally, my little nephew took a keen interest in the lively box) and reported how to get the best out of this beer, which involves buying a case and burying most of them to stop you drinking them all in one ruinous attempt. It’s pertinent to mention it now because I’ve just opened another bottle (just as my fingers begin to miss the intended targets on the keyboard).

8.47pm: As is the zeitgeist, I’ve asked the internet what they think of this beer. @ThornbridgeKel called it “sublime”, @BeerReviewsAndy says “I love IHY I’ve not got much left”, @swbrewery says “I was really impressed with IHY like a rolling wave of hop heaven-pithy, piney perfection!”

8.50pm: I’m getting a bit dizzy. It’s 9.5% but somehow drinks like a devilish 5.9%-er.

8.53pm: When I first started blogging I got a bit BrewDog-heavy. I felt an affinity to what they were doing and the beers they were making. In the last few months I’ve barely mentioned them because they seem to have released nothing but expensive one-offs of the next strongest beer in the world. What I initially feel in love with with BrewDog was that they were regularly producing new beers, different beers, and interesting beers. I remember my first taste of Chaos Theory and was blown away. I remember my first zeitgeist, Zephyr, 5am Saint. I loved that they got me excited about new beers in the UK. Tokyo* rocked my world, I love Tactical Nuclear Penguin, Sink the Bismark was insane, End of History took it a lot further, maybe too far, certainly too far for my dusty wallet. The thing is, even if I’ve felt a little dispirited with them, I’ve still loved what they’ve done and they’ve kept the UK beer scene interesting in an outrageous kind of way.

9.07pm: That last bit took a long time to write. FYI, for context: The Cheryl programme has finished. Now Big Brother is on (Lauren is in charge of the remote).

9.09pm: I should probably explain what this beer is... It’s a blend of BrewDog’s Hardcore IPA and Mikkeller’s I Beat yoU plus extra dry hopping. It’s a mix of two beers with a little extra. I’ve never had I Beat yoU but I want it now. Hardcore IPA is an intense beast of an IPA so I imagine IBU has an underlying sweetness which somehow seems to balance everything out in this beer: two becoming greater than the sum of their parts.

9.10pm: I just shoved the glass under Lauren’s nose and demanded she provided an opinion: “It smells nice. It smells like summer. Does it smell like summer? I’m not very good at this... There’s a deep flavour I just can’t put my finger on. Is it quite high in alcohol? [I nod while typing]. Yeah. Smells like it. It’s got a lovely thick, rich... Isn’t it? Like, umm, tropical fruits. There’s something else there... Quite fruity. Here, take it back, I’m watching Big Brother.”

9.14pm: The 9.5% is kicking in. I’ve largely lost feeling in my face. It’s a wonder that I’m still typing with relative accuracy and speed.

9.15pm: @BGRTRob just tweeted: “It's a truly wonderful beer.” Touché my friend!

9.25pm: Holy shit, @ThornbridgeKel just said something big: “I think IHY is the new benchmark IIPA for Europe. It rules!” BOOM!

9.26pm: I’m being distracted by Big Brother. There are men dressed as tacos eating chilli which isn’t cool... One of them just hurled almightily.

9.31pm: The beer’s almost done. I’ve got four more bottles left. I might need to bury some of them à la Avery to stop me drinking them all in one go.

9.34pm: I Hardcore You is dangerously brilliant. It’s an arse-kicking IPA, a tongue-numbing assault on the senses, a face-slapping beer that just makes you want to drink more and more. I think it’s better than Hardcore IPA but I don’t know what makes it so complete; whatever it is, I like it (I think the combination of sexy, smooth body and dominant bitterness without overpowering is probably the winner here, plus the intoxicating aroma). Away from the high-impact thrashing of the boozy arms race, this beer puts BrewDog back on track. To BrewDog I offer a thankful man hug. To Mikkeller I offer the highest praise: a high five.

9.41pm: I’m done. In many ways.

10.07pm: Post script: Just said goodnight to Lauren. She said: “You were drunk Friday, Saturday and now Sunday.” I said: “A hat trick.” And now I’m going to read my book, which is currently Chuck Palahnuik’s Snuff. I will post this tomorrow, which, in the correct tense shall be today.

FABPOW! Jerk Chicken and Founder's Centennial IPA

Sitting at work on a Friday afternoon, having just finished what is always my busiest and most stressful period, and watching the Brazil-Portugal game on iplayer, my thoughts turn to my soon-to-be-growling gut. I’d already filled the fridge with the beers that I wanted to drink but I had no designs on the dinner yet. The beer was Founder’s Centennial IPA so I worked back from there.

Jerk chicken is something I’ve never cooked before but it’s easy: blitz up spices, marinate chicken, cook. Classic jerk contains allspice and scotch bonnet chillis, wikipedia tells me. In my marinade I used: fresh thyme, lots of garlic, thumb-sized lump of fresh ginger, a couple of chillis (I’m not brave enough for scotch bonnet), juice of a lime, paprika and smoked paprika (I love paprika and the smoked one is there to reenact the BBQ’d quality of classic jerk), fresh coriander, all spice, salt and loads of black pepper, oil. An hour to marinade left plenty of time to make coleslaw, something else I’d never made before – grated carrots, cabbage and onion mixed with mayo, mustard and lemon juice. Easy. I fried the chicken to get it going and then put it in the over for 30-40 minutes. When it was done, as I left it to cool for 10 minutes, I sorted myself some corn on the cob to make my dinner as close to a Nandos as possible.

Founders’ Centennial IPA is 7.2% and 65IBU, so it was primed to stand up to the heat of the chicken. It’s overflowing with floral aroma, the orange blossom, a little caramel, sherbet and some over-ripe strawberries but it’s the body which makes this FABPOW work – it’s full and smooth, mouth-filling but not sticky – it carries the hops all the way through with plenty of pithy orange and floral fudge. With the chicken it set off in a new direction: the caramel body loved the charred, crispy chicken skin, the hops and the spice were pitched right at the same level and the floral, herby quality in the beer was emphasised by the earthy hops in the rub (the coleslaw acted as a cooling extinguisher to the heat, while the charred, nutty sweetness of the corn makes it a great beer snack). It’s messy, it’s finger-licking, it’s spicy, it’s delicious, it's food and beer at its simple best, it’s a FABPOW!

Anyone had any good food and beer combos recently?

After this I had a Captain Lawrence Captain’s Reserve IIPA and it probably would have been even better with the chicken. It stands out as one of the best IPAs I’ve had this year: peaches, apricots and mango bursting out in all directions, it’s never too bitter nor too sweet nor too floral nor too citrus, just dangerously, wonderfully drinkable - I didn’t want the bottle to end. I bought it from beermerchants and I’ve just checked the website – sold out. The Centennial is still there though, for now.

THORNBRIDGE HALCYON IS FUCKING AWESOME!

Excuse the tabloid hyperbole and screamy capital letters, but I don’t think enough people have said just how good Thornbridge Halcyon 2009 is yet (only Zak Avery, Hopzine, Reet Good Leeds, Real Ale Reviews 'an Innocent smoothie on acid', and The Ormskirk Baron [baron rating of 5/5]). It’s a beer blogger’s dream: limited release, once a year, hotly anticipated; green-hopped with new season UK Targets (forget the US C-hop, it’s all about the UK Ts on this display); a dangerously beautiful 7.7%; a sexy new label (featuring a sneaky peak of bust); a stream of updates - promises - from the brewery on its progress: we’re brewing it soon, it’s been brewed, it’s in the conditioning tank, it’ll be a few months yet, it’s almost ready, it’s tasting great, we’re almost there, bottling Halcyon soon, bottling Halcyon now, so close, just a little longer, it tastes amazing, it’s ready to go, YOU CAN BUY THEM NOW... it’s beergasm territory, get ‘em while they’re HOT.

Remember Fruit Salad sweets? That’s what it smells like first, then pineapple, then mango, then a little grassy and floral, then a tangy, pithy, resinous bitterness stomps on through. One line of the notes has both “Mmm” and “Yum” on. The hops are super fruity and unexpected; juicy and delicious. It could threaten to get a bit sweet but the bitterness rips through and it’s all backed up with a stiff malty backbone to keep it in shape. A knife-edge balance, perfectly executed.  

It’s hyped-up and laden with heavy sacks of expectation, but the beer smashes through that (I imagine it does so with a look to the skies, an impassioned roar, a paw at the chest). Big green hops, super fruity, full-on bitterness, but always just lip-smackingly good. It’s up there with the best IPAs this year (and I’ve had some shit hot IPAs this year).

I’ve got a mixed 12-pack of this and St Petersburg (another great beer, deserving of its own upper case exclamation, no doubt – imagine you BBQ’d a bar of dark chocolate and then blitzed it up with some coffee, and loads of earthy hops, it’s real goood, in a dirrrty kind of way, like eating in bed) but I’m seriously tempted to go back to myBrewerytap and order some more (especially as they’re now selling Marble, too).

The Hop Press: Dangerously Bitter

I’ve been lazy with my Hop Press blog recently but I’m back on it this week. Essentially it’s a re-hashing of a blog which I wrote early last year (an important post which made me realise that beer was more than just a taste experience) with a few tweaks. It’s about how bitterness is innately a warning of poison and how this increases the enjoyment of hoppy beers.

Here’s the full post.

What do you think? Am I a bit crazy here or is there something addictive about big hops that keeps you going back for more? That smack of bitterness which craves sweetness - the unending cycle of drinking for pleasure and ‘pain’ that makes a great IPA.

Fuller's Bengal Lancer

I had this at the London Drinker beer festival on Thursday and I loved it. I saw a bottle in Waitrose and I bought it. The bottle is open now. The aroma is deliciously enticing: citrus, spice, marmalade, grapefruit, sweet bread. It's very, very good, better than I expected it to be. Smooth, big, full, peppery marmalade, toast, bitter at the side of the mouth, a quenching, dry finish, come-drink-me-now good. I will buy some more bottles this week, you should too.

IPA Night

Last time we had Stout Night, before that were two general Beer Nights, this time it was an evening dedicated to IPAs. Pete, Brad, Chunk and Matt (who is pretty much my only mate who doesn't have a blog or can't be reached by putting @ in front of his name - but he does feature 47 seconds into this video) came to my place last Friday with the promise of a fridge filled with hops and orders for them to bring pizza, snacks, and cheese, plus any IPAs they find.

The evening revolved around the IPAs I brought back from America, which I wanted to share with friends. These bottles had been in the fridge since then, teasing me every time I went in there. I also picked up a few bottles from the supermarket or beer shops to add to the collection. We did the usual thing of rating the beer out of 10 for a little interesting competition. Almost all the beers were IPAs, although a couple slipped in which weren’t, but we can excuse that. Here’s what we had, in the order we had it, and all scores are out of 50.

1. Green King IPA (3.5%)

Why the hell not. We usually like to start with something middle of the road to set the benchmark score but Pete was driving over and we figured he wouldn’t mind missing this one. It’s an IPA because it says so in the name. It’s just not IPA as we know it to be now. Frankly, it was horrible. My scribbled notes say ‘it smells like a baby’s bib that’s got sick on’. Still, it was a fun start and made us all laugh. We saved some for Pete so he didn’t miss out. Score: 10.5.

2. BrewDog Punk IPA (6%)

This was an obvious one to use as we all know it so well. I have had indifferent bottles recently but this one was absolutely spot-on and perhaps the best I’ve had it in the bottle. It seemed slightly more honeyed than usual, less dry-bitter in the finish and better balanced. Score: 37.5.

3. Thornbridge Jaipur (5.9%)

We wanted a Punk/Jaipur-off but as soon as we poured them we noticed that something wasn’t right... when we checked we saw that the Jaipur had a best before date of November 2009 (despite the fact that I only bought it the weekend before – I also got an out of date Orval then, but that was a good thing... if you visit the Bitter End in Bromley, check the dates). It had suggestions of Jaipur but the hops had fallen in and the malt was pushing out. We stopped the side-by-side and didn’t give this a score as it wasn’t a fair representation (that same day a box of Jaipur and Kipling arrived from myBrewerytap, it just went to my parents' house, not mine).

4. Bear Republic Racer 5 (7%)

Pete arrived, put beers in the fridge, caught up with the previous three and then we started straight on the big ones. Racer was my favourite beer in California so I was eager to see how well it bottled and lasted. Straight away, with that aroma of tropical fruit, mango and tangerine, I had a Proustian flashback of the Toad in the Hole on my last night in Santa Rosa. There’s so much fruit, a great long, dry finish and wonderful balance and drinkability. I need more Racer 5, I love it. Score: 43.5.

5. Russian River Pliny the Elder (8%)

No messing around, straight from Racer to Pliny. This is a new Californian classic brewed a few towns away from Bear Republic. It was the first and the penultimate beer of my US trip and there were many in between. Bottled on the 2nd February, it was five weeks old. Pliny is full of pine and grapefruit, resinous and fruity with a long, dry, almost-herby finish. There’s less sweetness than the Racer and less ‘balance’ but that doesn’t matter, it’s a wonderful beer and that aroma-finish book-end is so inticing. Score: 42.5.

6. Marston’s Old Empire IPA (5.7%)

We jumped around between US and UK beers all evening. Old Empire may have suffered from coming after Pliny... although I was surprised as I didn’t expect much - it had a crisp, bitter finish which would work well with spicy food. This is more of an Old School IPA, compared to the US New Skool. It was perfectly drinkable, I just can’t imagine buying more and keeping them in the fridge. Score: 26.

7. Pitfield 1837 IPA (7%)

This one left us divided with some hating it and others not minding it. It poured a murky gold and had a sweet, doughy nose of fresh bread which carried through into the taste. It’s big and warming, a little tannic and dry with a bitter finish and hints of slightly sour fruit. This was probably the most authentic IPA we had and I thought it was really interesting in a not-quite-right, sort of way. The initial taste reminded me of Pete Brown’s Calcutta IPA and if you left this long enough I think it would develop similarly. Score: 21.

8. Troegs Nugget Nectar (7.5%)

This is a once-yearly release which I was given by Ken Weaver in California. This is also not an IPA, instead it’s an Imperial Amber. We can overlook that as it’s got shit loads of hops in it and was the same colour as all the others anyway. This was very good. Lots of caramel and c-hops to begin, fruity, piny and perfumed with a big hit of floral and orange in the quenching finish. The floral quality and extra sweetness marks this apart from the West Coast IPAs. Score: 41.

9. Ballast Point Sculpin IPA (7%)

Another famous US IPA, this one from Ballast Point, a great Californian brewery. This one had a nose-full of oranges, peaches, apricots and sweet floral. Taste-wise it’s spot-on, clean and smooth and bitter-sweet and delicious. Score: 41.5.

10. Bells HopSlam (10%)

Like Nugget Nectar, this is a once-a-year release, which came a few weeks before I flew out. The bottle is another courtesy of Ken. This is a biggie. The image on the front says it all: a man squashed by a giant hop. It starts with citrus and pine and then opens into mango and tropical fruit. I didn’t write much down because I was too busy falling in love. It’s just a wonderful beer and my personal favourite of the evening. Score: 43.5.

11. BrewDog/Stone Bashah (8.6%)

Last week I wrote about Black IPAs so it seemed fitting to have one in for the evening. This one is a Double Black Belgian IPA, a typically renegade style, given its brewers. Whenever I’ve had this it has tasted different and others agreed that they’ve experienced the same thing. This was nice, smooth, a good level of roastiness and estery, tropical fruit. Score: 33.5.

12. Hopdaemon Skrimshander (4.5%)

Pete is the brewer at Hopdaemon so of course he brought a few of his beers around. This is the bottle-conditioned version of their IPA and it’s straight from the brewery. It’s the first time I’ve had it bottle-conditioned and it makes a big difference. The flavour was fresher, smoother and had a delicious underlying bready-fruity quality. It wasn’t big-hitting like the others but it’s still a very nice beer and one that I will always serve with a curry. Score: 37.

13. Gadds’ India (8.3%)

As we are all from Kent (except Brad but he lives close enough now) we needed some Gadds in there. This is a fairly old bottle but it’s holding up well; the hops are integrating and adding lots of flavour without bitterness, a sweet yeasty quality comes through, it’s mellow with hints of sour fruit. This got mixed reactions. It’s another old school-style IPA and it’s interesting to see how they all develop in similar ways with the hops retreating, the body filling out, a doughy sweetness and stone fruits – if that’s how all the traditional IPAs developed then I imagine I would’ve liked them too. Score: 33.5.

14. Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA (6%)

I was looking forward to this one but left a bit flat and disappointed. There’s nothing wrong with it, I just wanted more. It has a simple aroma of earthy-citrusy hops, it has a base of caramel flavours and a little bite at the end, it just didn’t wow. Score: 35.

15. Odell IPA (7%)

Lovely, cheeky nose of peaches and apricots, fruity and inviting, floral. It’s very drinkable, very tasty and very nice. We liked it a lot and it’s one of those beers to keep in the fridge, if you can find it. Score: 40.5.

16. Flying Dog Raging Bitch (8.3%)

There’s a lot of hype around this beer but I’m not sure I get it. It’s an IPA with Belgian yeast and it’s fruity, estery, interesting, but something in it doesn’t work. I want to like it more than I do and there’s something about the hops and the yeast which seems to clash. We split two bottles between us and talked about the beer the whole time, which added something to the enjoyment, even if we were trying to work out what didn’t quite work. Score: 36.

17. BrewDog Punk Monk (6%)

I had this in the fridge so we decided to try it directly after the Bitch to see a comparison between IPAs made with Belgian yeasts. This one was much better and I really like what BrewDog have done (I’ve written about it here). It works perfectly well and the spicy, fruity character from the yeast adds a lot to the final beer. Score: 39.

18. Avery The Maharaja Imperial IPA (10.5%)

A big bomber of year-old IPA. This is a big beer all around: big malt, big hops, big bitterness, big flavour. You can taste that it’s old and we felt that it either needed to be drunk fresh or a couple of years old, as it was it was in a bit of a transition, but it was still very good. Score: 38.5.

19. Hopdaemon Green Daemon (5%)

Not an IPA but it’s an ale and it’s pale so it’s okay. I didn’t write anything down for this one so it must’ve either been very good or very bad. Judging by the scores we all liked it. Score: 38.

20. Mikkeller/De Molen Mikkel & Menno (7.2%)

Bottle 191 of 1080. Matt brought this around because he’d never seen it before and we both love Mikkeller and De Molen. This is definitely not an IPA and it’s not even very pale and possibly not even an ale - it’s a wheatbock with US hops. It’s smooth and malty, spicy, and then big c-hops come through, fresh and juicy and then leave a long, dry bitterness. We couldn’t quite work it out (style-wise) but enjoyed it (we did have to rush this a bit as it was time for everyone to dash down the High Street to catch the last train home). A good end to the evening. Score: 36.

Not bad going – 20 beers between five of us in under four hours, and great fun it was too. Pete stayed over on the sofa and we enjoyed a Leviathon after the others had left. I haven’t liked this much in the past but (I think) he’s made some tweaks and this has a great dry finish to balance the sweet, malty body. It’s also worth mentioning the other stars of the evening: the pizzas. Brad was in charge of these and he spared no expense by going to Iceland. The classic flavours he chose were Bolognese, Fajita, Hot Dog and Cheese & Onion (just in case we had a veggie). It may have been the beer talking but the pizzas were disgustingly good. I can still remember cracking into laughter as I bit into the Bolognese pizza and it tasting exactly like Bolognese! The other revelation was squeezing French’s mustard onto the Hot Dog pizza before cooking. Incredible. We decided to rate the pizza too: Bolognese scored 39, Fajita scored 30.5, Hot Dog scored 40.5 and Cheese & Onion 31. If you have a spare pound go to Iceland, buy the Hot Dog pizza, put mustard on it, cook and eat with a smile on your face.

IPA is such an interesting and varied style. All these beers were different and shone in their own way. Some were big-hitting on the bitterness, some were full of tropical fruit, some were floral, some were earthy, some were fragrant, some were malt-dominant, some were imperial and some were not. The best beers were seriously good, the worst were totally forgettable. The overall winners according to our ratings were Racer 5 and HopSlam, which is a good result, I think. Now I just need to work out a plan of how to get some more of them...

Black IPA, India Brown, Imperial Brown, Cascadian Dark Ale...

It feels like every time I’ve read through the American beer blogs or looked at twitter this week I’ve been faced with the term Cascadian Dark Ale. Adrian Tierney-Jones wrote about it this week, linking back to a Hop Press post by Lisa Morrison, since then it’s popped up repeatedly (including another Hop Press post from Josh Oakes) with the name slipping casually into place as if everyone accepts, knows and understands what it is already... but I don’t like it.

I’ve grown to like ‘Black IPA’ as the name for a dark beer lustily bittered and flavoured with US hops. Yes, it’s an oxymoron if you look at it as being an India Pale Ale, but I’d sit down opposite you in the pub and happily argue the point (which I’ve written about here) that ‘IPA’ and ‘India Pale Ale’ are terms which can be used separately and that ‘IPA’ has become its own noun with different meanings to ‘India Pale Ale’ to today’s drinker. I’d argue this because the evolution of an IPA, in nearly all modern examples, separates it from its historical connotations in many ways: different hop varieties used; different mentality behind the brewing; the now-redundant use of ships and barrel-aging; the necessity to drink these beers super fresh rather than brewing them to taste one way and appreciating that it will change into a more drinkable beer. New-skool IPAs are not Pale Ales brewed to be exported to the Indian market in the 19th century, they are something completely new.

IPA has become the staple of US brewing and it’s almost a benchmark of how good a brewery is – if your IPA isn’t up to it then neither is the rest of it. Black IPA is a US thing, which is now being picked up by British brewers. As it’s a US thing, you need to look at the US understanding of an IPA, which for me, when suffixed onto a beer name, tells me I’ll be getting something pale in colour (usually golden, through caramels and into an orange hue) with a lot of vibrant, fruity, citrusy, piny hops and a bold bitterness. There is no link to a beer which has made a long sea journey to be enjoyed in India. A Black IPA tells me I’m getting a dark beer with the hop quality of a ‘regular’ IPA and I think it works. Plus the oxymoronic quality of the name somehow adds something, as if this style were a little bit naughty and rule breaking, which transfers into the taste.

But some people don’t like ‘Black IPA’, hence the push for Cascadian Dark Ale to be the style name. I would guess that this push is mainly coming from the Pacific Northwest, specifically in the Cascade region... To me, CDA means nothing. Sure that’s where most of the hops grow, but that’s not enough and the area is too specific for a ‘world style’. Lisa Morrison lists four reasons why she likes the name Cascadian Dark Ale. I’d argue against all of them. One, Black IPA and Dark IPA are oxymoronic, but I’m fine with that, as I’ve said, because the style is challenging and different, so the name fits. Two, she thinks CDA is a great bar call, as in “Two CDAs please”. I think it’s a terrible bar call. It sounds like a drug or an illness. Three, the story and history behind a beer style endear people to it, which is true, but you can’t magic up history in a couple of months, slap a new name on it and expect people to be interested. That’s called marketing and I don’t think the story behind it is interesting enough (‘Oh, that’s just where a lot of hops grow, then?’ I can hear them saying, but engage them in a discussion of Black/Dark IPA, the history of IPA, the evolution of style and the use of the Black/Dark misnomer and that’s interesting). Four, it celebrates an appellation, but would this stop hops grown outside of the Cascade area from going into a CDA? Does the water and barley need to be from there too? I will also add that Cascadian Dark Ale sounds like the name of a brew, not a style.

If the term Black IPA isn’t liked, and Cascadian Dark Ale doesn’t do it for me, then what about alternatives? Dark IPA is a gentler version of Black IPA, and I like that. ‘Dark’ doesn’t crash in like ‘Black’, instead it suggests that the beer is just a little darker than usual. What about India Brown? Or is this just a strange linking of styles between an IPA and a Brown Ale? Does the addition of ‘India’ to a name immediately suggest that lots of hops have been added? If so, why? What about Imperial Brown Ale, just like red ales have been Imperialised (and they taste like Red IPAs...), why not just intensify the Brown Ale?

I do think we need to have a name for this emerging style of beer but I hope Cascadian Dark Ale doesn’t stick. It seems to me that Black IPA is working so far, so I don’t see a need to change it, but if it’s going to change then my vote goes with Dark IPA or Imperial/India Brown Ale (IBA).

What do you think works as a name? And as a side note, which dark IPAs are good? I haven’t found Thornbridge’s Raven, which sounds like a winner, but I’m not a huge fan of the style yet as for me there’s something which collides somewhere between the heavy roasted bitterness and the citrusy hop bitterness...

I've Sunk the Bismarck

Maybe the hoppiest beer I've ever had, earthy, citrus, floral, imperial. So thick and full bodied, like syrup, like honey. It smells like a hop sack, so fresh, uniquely fresh, like hop resin, hop oil on the finger tips. It's sweet like candy but hot like bourbon, it's smooth but jagged, it's bitter, it's intense, it's astonishing. Five months in the making, this is insane US Extreme IPA meets Scottish whisky, an unimaginable blend.

I've bought a bottle and I'm glad. Sink the Bismarck, whatever you think about the name and the marketing approach (it's a bit of fun, nothing more - initially the name is shocking but it's more of a jovial up yours than a vicious fuck you), is a special beer. It might not be to everyone's taste - in all senses - but it's a remarkable achievement.

Hoppy and Roasty

Double IPA festival yesterday. It was pretty nuts. Most beers were around 9% and bragged tongue-wrecking IBU levels. Everything was served in 4oz pours; enough to enjoy it but not enough to pickle you too quickly (though there were a few stumbling around early afternoon - that's another thing, it started at 11am).

Pliny the Younger was the big one (in many ways). An 11% triple IPA released once a year (the Friday of SF Beer Week) by Russian River. But this came alongside an overwhelming list of big beers. Of course, I had Younger as soon as I arrived (it's good but I need some more of it now). Ballast Point's Dorado was excellent, Bear Republic's Five Zero and 11 were very good, a couple from Drakes were superb (Drakes are a very good brewery, one I didn't know about until the trip), Moylans' Hopsickle (140 IBU!) and Triple Rock's IIMAXX were hop bombs.

The interesting thing was the difference between these beers of the same style. Some were sickly sweet and jaggedly hoppy; some were citrus and fruit; some were floral and herbal and dry; some just drop-kicked your face; some were a confusing mix of the above. Drinking just one style is a great way to pick out the subtle differences in each brew (although these beers are not especially subtle...), even if towards the end they did start to converge towards just 'hoppy'.

After the DIPA fest I went to an Alesmith event at City Beer Store (that's an awesomely cool bar). The Alesmith IPA was spectacular but I was there for Speedway Stout - the regular one and barrel aged. They are both sexy looking beers, darkest brown with one of those chocolate milkshake heads. Regular is silky smooth and rammed with roasty coffee flavour and dark chocolate; the barrel aged is an incredible oaky, vanilla, bourbon, chocolate monster with subdued coffee and great depth. Amazing beers.

After this I went to the Toronado where New Belgium's La Folie tasted like a bloody mary and then I nearly fell asleep at the table (jet lag sucks).

That was a good day drinking. I met and got to drink with so many cool people, which is the best thing about this trip. And a lot of people there are brewers from the area, proudly pouring their stuff while also happily drinking other breweries beers. It's good to have that in the beer scene.

I've had some great beer recently

I’ve had a lot to drink in the last few weekends with the Old Ale Festival, some London drinking, the Pigs Ear and some bottles at home. Here are some of the highlights...

Birra del Borgo’s Re Ale Extra (cask). Italian IPA, hoppy, fruity, bready, toffee, bitter, easy drinking. Just a perfect example of crisp, cool and delicious Italian beer.

Bear Republic’s Racer 5 in The Rake (keg). As above with MORE. Tropical fruits, mangoes and oranges, bitterness, body – just more American-ness. I’d been waiting to try this one for ages and managed to drink in on Thursday and Friday last week. Fantastic. More beer should be like this (most beer should be like this).

De Molen’s Amarillo (cask, I think – definitely draught). The colour of peach flesh, bright and so incredibly fruity with peaches, apricots and mango, full bodied and sweetly delicious, punching bitterness adds an easy drinking and more-ish quality. After we’d left The Rake earlier in the day I had a string of disappointing beers and probably sounded like a broken record repeating the words ‘I want a Racer 5’ but then I had the Amarillo and Oh My it’s awesome (and like a completely different beer to the bottle).

De Molen’s Lood & Oud IJzer (bottle). A Pigs Ear festival special mixing Rasputin and Amarillo in a black-and-tan-in-a-bottle. My mate Matt bought this for us. Just an awesomely good beer. You know, one of those beers that you want to bathe in, that you want to drink for hours just to keep tasting it and experiencing it’s fruity hops, the roasted malt, it's stunning balance. It’s understated considering it’s mixing two big beers and it’s constantly interesting. I probably should’ve bought a bottle for myself to take home.

Durham Temptation (bottle). A brewery and a beer I’ve heard lots about. This was great. Dark fruits, bitter chocolate, vanilla sweetness, smooth, big (this was late in the day after starting at 11.30am so I can’t offer more than Gordon Ramsay-style brevity with my notes).

And a bottle of Goose Island IPA (bottle) on the Saturday with a takeaway curry because I couldn’t be bothered to cook. I forgot just how good this beer is. I need to buy more of it. So easy drinking, fresh, vibrant, fruity, delicious. I will never fully understand why anyone buys and drinks bottles of lager when they can have something like this.

I'm thirsty now and it's early in the morning. I'm craving the fruity hops in the Amarillo and Racer 5 (my on-going hop love affair is showing no signs of abating, even in this cold weather). Bear Republic is on my list of places to visit next year. I guess De Molen is too. And Birra del Borgo... It's a long list. A long, expensive list...

As-Live Tasting: BrewDog's Punk Monk

7.47pm: Hello all. It’s Sunday 13th September. The beer is poured. I’m sitting comfortably, staring at the super minimal label that is BrewDog’s Punk Monk - Punk IPA brewed with Belgian yeast.

7.49pm: It looks like Punk, that familiar gold. And it smells like Punk too, fruity with lycees and strawberries and caramel, but then beneath that there’s a little something extra, something cheeky and naughty, a little estery sweetness, banana, pineapple and passion fruit. It smells goooood.

7.50pm: And it tastes goooood too. Yup, I like this. It’s Punk, it’s still fruity and bitter but it has that cool Belgian twist at the end. What’s strange is that it’s very similar to the standard Punk – and I drink a lot of it, in fact I can’t remember a time in the last nine months when Punk hasn’t been in the fridge – but it just goes a little sideways, kind of like kissing your other half and they throw in a nibble of the bottom lip to surprise you.

7.52pm: Talking of surprises, has anyone noticed that BrewDog’s Punk recipe has changed? The original hop line-up was Chinook, Crystal and Motoeka but now it uses Chinook, Ahtanum and Nelson Sauvin. I don’t think I’ve noticed a change in taste so it’s been a smooth transition, I guess.

7.56pm: There isn’t an ABV listed on the label, so I guess it’s 6% still, although it doesn’t taste it… And while we’re on ABV, have you read about BrewDog’s newest beer, Nanny State? Their ‘response’ to the Tokyo* hysteria is to brew a 1.1%ABV beer (savvy and inevitable, really). I like this idea a lot, at least I did until I read that it has a projected IBU of 225, using 60kg of hops in a 20hl brew. To me this sounds mental. How to Disappear Completely is a brilliantly brutal beer but it’s really at the limit of drinkability for me, and it’s made drinkable by the astonishing body that the beer has. A 1.1% beer with that many hops is surely going to be like drinking over-stewed, killer hop tea? I appreciate how they are sticking to their esoteric guns and playing up to the braying crowd, but if BrewDog were to have brewed a 2% beer, pale and a little hoppy (a baby version of Punk, say), then I would’ve stood up and applauded and been first in line to drink a few pints of what could be an important step in low-ABV British brewing. Instead I’m left a little uncomfortable with the fact that this is going to be an all-out attack (on ‘the man’ and on the palate) using their full arsenal of hop grenades. Still, I shall wait until I try the beer…

8.04pm: Back to this fantabulous Punk Monk. I really am enjoying it. The bottle compares favourably with the cask stuff I drank in The Bull (now officially the best pub in Kent!) a few weeks ago, and if I ever see it on cask again then I will dive straight for it. Now I’m just waiting for a Wild Punk seeded with wild yeast and a Baby Punk (see previous comment).

8.08.pm: The beer is going down like a voracious fluffer and I want more. I have another bottle but it isn’t chilled. There’s something about the Belgian yeast and the fruity hops which makes for a really great beer, all gooseberries and pineapple and berries. In fact, I’m tempted to open a normal Punk now to compare…

8.12pm: I couldn’t resist: a bottle of Punk is now in front of me. A side-by-side was the only logical way of doing this, I guess. The Punk has a little less fruitiness in the aroma, but the lycee, strawberry, passion fruit and caramel are still there. Tasting it I can pick out the similarities but the differences are there too: more biscuity malt and a more potently dry bitter finish in the Punk compared to the Monk, and a greater range of flavour in the Monk, different fruits, more depth. Punk IPA is such a familiar taste to me that I could recognise it in seconds yet I’m drawn towards the Monk right now and I want more of it. I really do.

8.17pm: Right, that’ll do. I’m off to finish this Punk Off and read some blogs and talk some shit on twitter. If, and when, Punk Monk is for sale on the BrewDog website then I urge you to buy it. It’s really very good.

What the hell is an IPA?

I wrote this ages ago and have been tweaking it trying to work out if there’s any ‘story’ in it or if I’m just being pedantic and geeky. Reading Pete Brown’s Hops & Glory told me so much about IPA but it didn’t answer some of my specific thoughts about what IPA means to me right now (maybe that’s the next beer book – taking a massive, citrusy IPA on a rock band’s tour bus around the US to try and find out what IPA means to drinkers now?! Hops & Glory meets Almost Famous). Thankfully, my queries were partly confirmed in a post from Zak Avery last week, saying that IPA has become ‘a catch-all term for anything from a pale hoppy session ale to a profound, rasping hop-led assault on the senses’. It’s this that I’ve been trying to get to grips with.

We know the history of the IPA right? A pale ale brewed in England and transported to India, pale in colour and heartily hopped. The exact etymological difference between an IPA and a PA seems to simply be that the ‘I’ stands for India and that this ‘I’ has now come to mean more hops than a regular pale ale. But what does IPA really mean now?
If I see that a beer is an IPA then I generally expect that I’ll be getting something pale with a decent punch of bitterness in it, but the difference between some IPAs are incomparable. I’ve had some where hops barely seem to have dabbed their green leaves into the brews, while others have stripped my teeth. I’ve used the terms ‘old-school’ and ‘new-skool’ before in referring to IPAs and I think they work: the hops in the ‘old’ are English and earthy and spicy with berry fruits and grassy, herby, floral notes and a moderate bitterness (think White Shield, Meantime IPA), whereas the ‘new’ have got the citrus peel and pith, tropical fruits or the pine of super high-Alpha American hops (think Punk IPA, Stone IPA). They are very different. My feeling is that the essence of a new-skool IPA is very different to the essence of an old-school IPA: old-schoolers were brewed for purpose as much as it was for flavour; new-skool are brewed to smack you in the face with a citrus fist and then be wonderfully drinkable. One has history and the other is the in-your-face, hot young upstart.
There are so many IPAs in the market but what I want to know is: Has the term IPA evolved into something way different to what it began as or have the boundaries just been stretched to be all-encompassing and include sub-styles and off-shoots of what was once known as an IPA? Should the use of ‘points’ where an 'I.P.A.' is the old-school India Pale Ale while an 'IPA' denotes the new-skool? Is it even necessary to know that it’s an abbreviation? Does IPA have its own unique connotations that are separate from India Pale Ale now? New-skool IPAs have ABVs which generally range from 5.5-7% and their IBUs stretch anywhere from 40-100+). Then there are double and imperial IPAs with ABVs up to 20% and IBUs up to levels where the body thinks it might actually be killed by this bitter poison. Old-schoolers are anywhere from 4-7% (I’d argue that a lot of the sub-5%ers are not technically IPAs but are just using the term to stick a fashionable label on their beer, plus these sub-5%ers are modern incarnations which are probably not worthy of the name they give themselves) but you don’t get many English-style double IPAs (Halcyon is a rare and delicious exception and I want to say JJJ too but I think it's a bit of an old-school-new-skool mash-up), and why is this? Perhaps the earthy hop bitterness doesn’t do so well when it’s used to monster-up a beer, maybe you just don’t get the easy drinking quality that the US hops give. And maybe now’s the time to point out the new Belgian style IPAs too? A collusion of English, Belgian and American.
Let’s take an example: BrewDog. I count that they have eight IPAs. Punk IPA is their postmodern classic new skool style beer (nine if you count Punk Monk, which is Punk brewed with a Belgian yeast, and flipping fantastic it is too). Chaos Theory is 7.1%, copper coloured and hopped with the new-skool beau that is the Nelson Sauvin. Storm is an 8% IPA aged old-school style in new-skool Islay whisky casks. Atlantic IPA is an earthy 8% brew made from a 200-year old recipe and aged in oak at sea (old-school at its roots, albeit with a new-skool twist). Hardcore IPA is 9% and proper in-your-face hop bomb. Zephyr is a 12.5% IPA aged in a whisky barrel with fresh strawberries. A Black IPA is on its way soon (we won’t even get started on that one!). And finally, although not technically called an IPA by the brewery, How To Disappear Completely, a 3.5% pale ale/imperial mild with 198IBUs. They are IPAs but they are all vastly different. It doesn’t seem logical that an IPA is now just a pale and hoppy beer because that is such a generic way of describing it, plus not all that many are even all that pale (I won’t start on the colour scale).
Maybe it’s just a British reserve verses an American super-sizing. Maybe I’m trying to make something out of nothing. Maybe I’m just writing this to spark off some questions about style. Maybe there are no answers. Maybe that’s just how it is now. The Brewers Association this year listed over 130 beer styles, including a few different IPAs. They differentiate between US and English and qualify it by saying this: ‘English and citrus-like American hops are considered enough of a distinction justifying separate American-style IPA and English-style IPA categories or subcategories.’ Does this answer any questions?

An ‘IPA’ is a vast and wide area, encompassing so much that it's hard to know what to expect from anything labeled this way anymore, particularly when it comes to UK beers (how many pump clips have I seen with IPA on recently?!). But is this just the nature of brewing developments and the natural branching and progression that comes with any style? Or does it show a change in taste and mentality? Is it something else? What the hell is an IPA? And, out of interest, what are your favourite IPAs?

A Glourious Weekend

The sun has been high, bright and hot for ages now and it’s bloody lovely. This weekend has been especially glourious. Thursday it was The Bull for their West Kent Pub of the Year celebration. The cask line-up was superb, as promised, but I was taught me a valuable lesson by the English IPAs: I am not immune to hop bitterness. It was the combination of Pictish Simcoe (wonderful, bitter, fruity) and (a one-off cask of) Marble’s Tawny 3 (seriously one of the most bitter beers I’ve had) plus the jerk chicken which saw my soporific, hoporific demise and left me all hopped out (but it was well worthy it as all the beers were wonderful, including, of course, Marble Pint). Cask Worthington White Shield was a rare and glourious treat of a scoop. Friday I visited an old favourite: The Man of Kent in Rochester. This place sells up to eight cask beers from Kent plus German lagers, Meantime keg, Fruli, cider and a fridge of bottles. All my cask beers were great (Gadds No.5, Gadds’ Seasider and Whitstable East India Pale Ale) and a bottle of Rochefort 10 went down a glourious treat in the garden after sunset, playing board games with a couple of old mates. Saturday I went to see Tarantino’s new film, Inglourious Basterds, and it’s honestly one of the best films I’ve ever seen. It’s a complete love letter to cinema and the power of film and reminded me so much of Jean-Luc Godard’s films of the early 1960s. There’s so much that I want to write about this film and I attempted to do so but it started sounding like an essay I’d write at university (I studied the French New Wave and Godard…) so I stopped. It’s tight, sharp, funny, tense, beautiful (Melanie Laurent), well acted, mesmerizing (those long takes, the sweeping shots, the perfect cutting), brutal… Seriously, this film is a complete masterpiece and the final line of the film is utter, glourious perfection. And then Sunday. Sunny Sunday when England won the ashes. It was a very proud day to be an Englishman and I celebrated with a bottle of Cantillon Kriek and then a Speakeasy Big Daddy IPA from San Francisco, which I will freely admit is terrible planning on my part. I should’ve cracked a Gadds’ Reserve or maybe a JJJ. Still, what a result, and what a glourious weekend. The ashes picture is from here. The beer picture is from my phone. It shows the line-up of beers at The Bull, plus there were a few in the cellar or on the other side of the bar – Darkstar APA, Whim Flower Power. The movie poster is from here. I have no picture of the Man of Kent, but that's glourious too, or glorious, whatever.

GBBF Take 1

It started early, being woken by the blare of Balham High Street and the head-thumping effects of the British Guild of Beer Writers 21st Anniversary bash the night before. From there came a fry-up and a detoured tube journey to Earls Court where I met Brad outside. Like most I went with the vague and vain plan of starting on a few moderately alcholed brews – something in the 4s, perhaps – but that was immediately forgotten as I ordered a cask Stone IPA to start the day. This was a wise and important choice. The first beer of the day is incredibly important: choose wrongly and the whole day can be ruined in a game of catch-up and no one wants that. The Stone IPA was C-hop-eautiful.

Next I had a Bridgeport IPA which I found uninteresting, but Pete Brown loved the stuff. Then I went for a Victory HopDevil, having been disappointed with the bottles. The cask was much better and I’m sure I got that tangy smack of Nelson Sauvins with even a hint of chocolate orange. Solid stuff but not spot on. Then I threw caution to the wind plumped for Allagash’s Interlude, a 10.5% beer with Brett and aged in wine barrels. Astonishing stuff. Impy Malting – who I was really excited to finally meet! - loved it. Lemony, brett, boozy and big, spicy, woody and just pretty damn cool, although I found it a challenge to get through, to be honest, but that may have been because it was barely the afternoon and I was eager for more, more, more hops!
Sierra Nevada Torpedo Extra IPA followed and I attempted some gonzo food and beer pairing with a chicken balti pie. The beer, for me, was lacking pizzazz and was better bottled. Then I had the Sierra Nevada Stout which I found uninspiring and was eclipsed by Rogue’s Chocolate Stout which is hard to describe without saying awesome. It was a glassful of pure cocoa, so full bodied, so much fun to drink. My olfactory gland was pointing to twelve.

Fearing a vicious backlash anytime around three, I dropped down to some weaker beers to attempt to plateau my buzz. I find dark beers with cherries almost irresistible and the Dunham Massey Cherry Chocolate Mild was really interesting and easy drinking. Vanilla chocolate covered cherry drops. I enjoyed this one at the Irish table with Ally, Boak, Laura, Thom and the ever-smiling Beer Nut; a whole bunch of people I’d been wanting to meet. That was a fun table!

Next I went Italian with Montegioco Mummia, a 4.8% sour with a wine character and a smooth, balanced, almost-savoury middle after the tart beginnings. One of the best beers I tried. Keeping on the same lines I went with The Tap’s Beerstand Berlinner Weisse a 3% cloudy, pale beer with a lemon grove nose and a crisp, biscuity flavour. A proper palate cleanser.

We were sitting with Jeff and Jo, a couple of regulars from The Bull (Garrett and Lynne, the landlord and lady were also there), and each beer run returned four third-pints so there was plenty to try. The best was White Shield Czars Imperial Stout which had one of the best noses of the day and a great, thick body of roast malt. Then came another star: Portsmouth’s Milk Coffee Stout which was smooth, sweet, roasty, chocolatey and then flows into a wonderful orangey finish that was just gorgeous. More beers should taste like this!

And next was the star of the day for me: Captain Lawrence’s Captain’s Reserve IPA, a 9%er overflowing with the green grenades and peaches and apricots and a marvelously fresh and bitter finish. If there hadn’t have been 450 other beers to drink I would’ve sat down with quite a few glasses of this. Then another star: a bottle of Dogfish Head’s 90 Minute IPA. I’ve had this before and was disappointed because it totally lacked bitterness but this was totally excellent and lived up to its hype. More US hops next (would you believe?!): Lagunitas IPA which was caramel, piney, pithy hops, pineapple, peach and tropical fruits - yum o’clock.
Then some more dark stuff. De Molen had two giant casks handsomely standing behind the bar. I had no idea what was in them but there was no way I was going to miss out on whatever it was! They were special beers. And while we’re on barrel-aged big ones I tried some Cambridge Brewing Company's YouEnjoyMyStout which was like liking the inside of a bourbon barrel that’s been painted with dark chocolate. If you like that kind of thing then it’s wicked. I like that kind of thing.

Finally I grabbed a Galway Hooker right at the end to raise my glass to the then-departed Irish folk. I think my enjoyment of this suffered thanks to a too-hot Cornish pasty scorching my tongue, a fatigued palate and a day on big hops. I did enjoy the beer though and can imagine sinking a few of them on a hot day.

So the beers were good but all of these beers would’ve meant nothing if it hadn’t been for the people I was drinking with. It’s been mentioned here, here, here and here but it’s massively important - it’s the beauty and the soul of these festivals. The joy is in sharing beers and hearing what is good and what can be missed and for all those offering their glass my way and saying those wonderful words: try this!

I either mention everyone or no-one and I’ve decided to go with everyone… here goes (I hope I remembered everyone!). Beer writers on Monday and Tuesday: Zak Avery, Pete Brown and his lovely wife Liz, Jeff Pickthall, Adrian Tierney-Jones, Phil Lowry and Colin from Beermerchants, Melissa Cole, Jeff Bell and Dave who I shared a few fantastic bottles of Harvey’s Imperial Stout with on Monday; also at the BGOWB do was Greg Koch, Steve Williams, Roger Protz (just a handshake and a hello), Jeff Evans and Podge (the Hairy Bikers were also there but I didn’t speak with them). Then at GBBF with Simon who didn’t seem reluctant in his scooping, Barm, Maeib and too-briefly there was Tandleman, along with the other bloggers already mentioned. And then some brewers - Kelly Ryan and Dave from Thornbridge, Justin from Moor Beer, Stu from Crown Brewery (I need to try some of your beers!), Tonie from Hopdaemon (Skrimshander IPA is a local favourite of mine) and Steve from Ramsgate Brewery and Saintsandsinners.

If it wasn’t for the people, for new friends and old ones, then the GBBF would be nothing but a vacuous shell full of casks of beer and solemn faces. Thankfully it was beaming smiles, belly laughs and talking shit in between swigs of some really great beers. If only all beer festivals could be like Trade Day at the GBBF.

Oh, and I bought some bottles home too.

FYI: Adding all those links took for-bloody-ever!! I need a beer after that. And this post is called Take 1 because I'm going back to GBBF for seconds/leftovers on Saturday!

Please, Sir, I Want Some Moor?

Moor Beer’s JJJ IPA is a beer that I’ve heard a lot about; it’s got one of those reputations that pushed it up high up my must-try list. It’s an elusive brew unless you live in Somerset (I don’t live in Somerset) and as UK beers go a 9.5% triple IPA (albeit brewed by an American) is a terribly rare thing. So when I heard that beermerchants were getting a pallet-load up from the West Country I rubbed my grubby little hands together in preparation of an order. The beer finally arrived at mine last week after a voracious wait with nights of wild thirst (ooh, if you’ve read Oliver Twist you’ll now see that the title of this is not a totally tenuous allusion after all!). The first thing to know: everything about JJJ is BIG. This is not a pussy-footing, pretend imperial IPA. This beer is balls-out and in your face and it’s not scared of what it is; to be honest I think it revels in the fact that it’s harder than every other beer. The big bomber bottle is a good looking thing to start and who can resist a handsome looking beer? Out of the bottle it pours a deep copper red with a thick and creamy head. Sometimes you can look at a beer and know that it’s going to be something special; this beer looks like that. Dip your nose in but don’t expect it to be an olfactory hop-festival, no, that surprise is hidden away. You get the big malt, the toffee, some nuts and almonds, a boozy warmth as it grazes the nasal passage and a distant spicy whiff of those green grenades. And then you drink. For me the greatest joy of a beer like this is the mystery of it. There are moments during a gulp of beer when you don’t quite know where it is or where it’s going next and there’s a thrill to that see-sawing balance. JJJ’s body is huge and strong, creamy and smooth and mouth-filling. It’s huge caramel sweetness first and then comes one of those ‘moments’ where what happens next is a mystery. It’s a split second. It could go too sweet, it could flip-over and shrivel out or it could take off. This takes off. But it takes off slowly, gradually building up, wrapping itself around your tongue; bitter, floral, earthy, spicy and then more bitter and sweeter again with over-ripe tangerines, pine forests and roasted fruits and more bitterness, growing all the time, then the swallow leaves behind the dryness which grips tightly and hangs and pulls you up back for more sweetness; it’s that essential kiss-on-the-cheek, slap-on-the-bum of big malt and big hops that makes very bitter beers so drinkable (you get a malt kiss then you get the slap, but you want another kiss, but the kiss is attached to another slap, then the slap starts to get fun…). And it drinks so well too; I finished a bottle in no time and loved every sip. I had a Stone IPA before it which I chugged with dinner and the combination of that and JJJ left me with the stupefied, hop-stoned beer buzz. And I love that feeling; it’s just totally relaxed and chilled out and happy; it’s the ‘ahhh’ of finishing a beer followed by the calm afterburn. But don’t expect an IPA as you know it. It’s not one of those 9% American hop bombs; this is more of a super-hopped barley wine given the fullness of the body, the roasted caramel maltiness and the fruit. It’s really very good, you know, and there isn’t much like this being brewed in the UK right now either.

You can also get two other Moor beers from beermerchants: Somerland Gold and Old Freddy Walker. I’ve just finished a Somerland Gold (5.5%) now and I’m impressed again. Here’s the important stuff: it’s golden in colour, but you’d expect that given the name; the nose has a sweet, cakey creaminess to it topped off with citrus, tangy apricot skins and very distant pine; the taste is superb, a big mouthful of clean pale malt, smooth and crisp and sweet and then the tropical fruit bitterness rolls up and attaches itself to the insides of your mouth, clinging on for dear life as you swallow. It reminds me of Thornbridge’s Jaipur in many ways and it’s fantastically drinkable. JJJ IPA is a triumph of a beer, Somerland Gold is a classic-in-waiting and beermerchants is the only place you can buy these bottles. You really should drink Moor beer.