Wednesday, 28 May 2014

Let Google Do The School Run.





The folks at Google get a lot of things right.

For a start, they don't work for Facebook – which is possibly the single best idea any technically-minded humanoid could ever have.

Other good things they've done include the inexplicably legal snooping tool 'Google Earth', their search engine is clearly reasonably popular too, and personally I also prefer their web browser Chrome which, thanks to its 'Incognito' setting, allows me to indulge my passion for Barry Manilow videos without a single other person in my household ever having a clue.

But like all successful companies from this (third) 3D Age, even the mighty Google can make the odd catastrophic blunder, and the Self Driving Car (further details of which were announced today) is just the latest turkey to jump the fence of Google's funny farm.

As someone who likes to keep the door ajar for all things sci-fi, you might have thought I would welcome such futuristic vision, especially when it comes from a company with a proven track record in technology development. The problem here is that Google clearly never sent out the memo reminding their staff that certain 'futuristic visions' are supposed to remain as precisely that. They are not meant to actually happen. I mean, we're not really meant to go on holiday with robots, it's just a handy way of making movies feel edgy and dark. What today's announcement shows is that some overexcited puppies at Google see the likes of Skynet from the Terminator franchise as some sort of corporate goal - as opposed to the nightmarish cautionary tale that the screenwriters intended - and these same little wag-tailed dogs are actively endeavouring to make sure all that horrible scary stuff really does happen.

Basically, today's news update from Google's Attention Seeking Division tells us that (contrary to earlier news updates) Google are not going to adapt previously built vehicles, but are to build their own child maimers right from scratch.

Let's be clear. These cars will have no pedals, no steering wheels, and no other controls whatsoever except for a single 'Stop/Go' button.

Read that sentence again and then imagine tomorrow's school run.

Now, safety is obviously paramount in the minds of these Google pups, but that shouldn't be a problem because computers never go wrong. Especially not one's running software created by Google.

Stop laughing and consider this.

You get into cars without controls all the time. You've been doing it throughout your entire life.

It's called being a passenger.

Almost every week of our lives we entrust our destiny into the hands of ultra-fallable human beings, many of whom will have crashed a car at least once before you settle yourself into the seat beside them.

Wouldn't it feel just a little bit safer to be entrusting your life into the hands of a series of massively powerful, state-of-the-art microchips, all working in tandem to achieve what for them is an infinitely simple task – and each of them doing this whilst simultaneously monitoring each other's efficiency and performance every inch of the way?

Well, if you think that scenario might appeal more, let me run a quick scenario...

You are driving along (being driven along?) in your Self Drive Google Car, which is incapable of error. Suddenly, up ahead, a human-driven car veers onto your side of the road – driving the wrong way on a collision course directly toward you. The driver of the vehicle seems unconscious and is unlikely to take steps to avoid the collision with your car, which will happen in seconds.

What does your Google car do?

Burdened with the extra imperative 'never to make a mistake', does it move to the left and mount the pavement – on which pedestrians are walking? Does it veer to the right – into the path of oncoming traffic? Or does it make neither of these two risky choices and elect instead for the only option which leaves it blameless at the subsequent enquiry – namely to make an emergency stop.

By choosing the least 'wrong' option – the result is that you die, so do your two kids and the driver of the oncoming car – but the Google car did absolutely nothing wrong and Google's reputation is safe.

A genuine human tragedy, and an absolute triumph of tech.

Putting an error proof car onto roads with cars which make mistakes all the time is simply not going to work. To me, that's obvious.

The only thing Google can be thinking is that one day only their cars will be on our roads. This, I agree, would hugely reduce the number of accidents on those roads – possibly to zero – but taking a seat in a car without controls is going to be a giant leap for humankind, way more of a leap than it took this turkey to fly the fence of Google's funny farm, and can any of us really picture ourselves letting Google take our kids to school any time soon?

I just can't see it happening. And frankly I don't even mean 'yet'. I mean ever.

Ultimately though, amongst all the horror that lurks beneath the surface of today's announcement from Google, one aspect above all really got me fighting to keep my breakfast down.

They are going to give these non-controllable self-driving cars 'smiley faces' in order to “help people accept the technology”.

Genius.

Amazing that nobody ever thought to paint smiles on electric chairs.







Thursday, 15 May 2014

There's More To Life Than Great Beer. (Right?)






The last time I posted something here was in the late 17th century, during the latter days of the reign of King Charles II.

Or at least that's how it feels... and lately I've started to wonder why.

Having enthusiastically churned out around 160 reviews of beers from across the world, why would I suddenly lose the will?

It's not as though I've stopped getting excited about beer. After all, it's arguable that things have never been so exciting in the ever-widening world of brewing - as my three most recent acquisitions (pictured above) demonstrate with mouth-watering panache.

And it's not as though I've grown tired of writing either. During this period of blog silence I've been tinkering away with screenplays, revisiting old novel manuscripts (pretty decent one of them is, too) as well as knocking out the odd beer descriptor for any breweries which ask me to do so.

So what's my problem?

Well, after a lot of thought, I suspect I may have found the answer...

I think there may be more to life than beer.

I won't blame you for reading that last sentence three or four times, I know it's hard to compute.

But I have reason to believe it must be true because very often, when I sit down to extrapolate my views on yet another golden beer from the South East of England, I find I'm actually suppressing a more urgent need to talk about something else entirely. This suppressed 'something' comes in many forms, depending on what's going on in the world, it really could be anything, even something which - just imagine - hasn't the merest connection with beer at all.

So, having had this realisation - I've decided to shake things up and make some changes to this site. I'm going to break free from the shackles of my own design concept and use this quiet corner of the Webosphere to bleat on about whatever the heck happens to be on my mind. Who knows, maybe that other side of my life - that which involves prancing around in front of film cameras - might find a voice here. It seems that my rather odd profession can sometimes be of mild interest to many of you humanoids, so maybe it wouldn't hurt to share some of my 'on-set' experiences.

Maybe something will make me laugh or get me raging and I'll feel sufficiently compelled to share it. I don't really know how this will go, to be honest.

Beer will continue to feature, that's a given. Some beers are just too good to ignore. As things stand, the hyper intensity of creative energy, the abundant raw talent, and the sheer hard graft going on within the brewing industry will guarantee that I continue to get vocal from time to time.

But the unfortunate flipside of these unprecedented levels of brewing endeavour is that there is now way too much beer out there, and a lot of it simply doesn't inspire. So from now on only the brews that genuinely raise my spirits will be given air time here. Expect to find brews from Mikkeller, Avery, Evil Twin, Magic Rock, Kernel, Thornbridge, BrewDog, Russian River, Marble, Angel City, Cigar City, Beavertown, Sly Fox, Bear Republic and plenty more firms that fit comfortably onto this "kind" of list.

(You know what "kind" I'm talking about. Some like to call it "Craft Beer". Others then demand a more detailed explanation of what "craft" means. Then someone fetches a shotgun because they're so sick and tired of all this aimless, soul-destroying infighting.)

Anyway, there you have it. It's official. The Bottled Beer Year is back in action, replete with fancy new bells and whistles, and henceforth it will be - rather like life itself - about much more than pleasant tasting liquid.

I hope you'll stay tuned, and maybe you'll even enjoy it.

In the meantime, I'm going back on set.


(N.B. - The beers pictured are 'Gamma Ray' American Pale Ale from Beavertown, '113 IPA' India Pale Ale from Sly Fox and 'I Beat You' Imperial IPA from Mikkeller.  Each can now be found on the High Score Chart.)


Tuesday, 16 April 2013

Day 159, Beer 159 - Salopian's "Vertigo"


Today's Beer




Name – Vertigo

Brewer – Salopian

Classification – Black IPA

Strength – 7.2% ABV



Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – The very deepest, darkest brown currently known to humankind. Monumentally appealing.

On the nose – Sweet, razor sharp citrus. Impossible. Delightful.

On the tongue – Off the scale. Every scale, and in every sense.

On the subjectSalopian sent Vertigo over to me with a bonus bottle of their Darwin's Origin, one of the more established beers on their roster but one which I'd also never tried before. Needless to say I have tried it now, and it ranks among the greatest bitters I've tried in a very long time. I figured that was worth mentioning.

On the marketVertigo is hideously rare at this early stage in its existence  If you live near a specialist beer shop you might be in luck – providing you can dodge the long range missiles launched at you almost constantly by jealous folk like me who don't live anywhere near a specialist beer shop. Alternatively, you could avoid harm by going online.

On the
whole9.5/10



Full Review

I've never sniffed a fluid so much.

There was a peculiar moment early on in this review session when I wondered if it might be better if I didn't transfer any of this beer into my mouth – as the only possible outcome was sure to be a relative reduction in the amount of pleasure the substance was already bringing into my sorry little life. After all, handing over responsibility from one sense organ to the next can so often result in a joy-sapping anti-climax – especially in these days of ever more fevered hop-centric experimentation wherein pungent 'whiffs' can often be followed by oddly lacklustre tastes. (I still don't really understand how high fragrance and low flavour can so easily coincide.)

Anyway, having eventually reminded myself that beer reviews traditionally require at least a rudimentary flavour assessment, I took the plunge and had a sip.

Well, I'm happy to report that the nose-to-mouth progression in Vertigo's case was not at all anti-climactic. Indeed, by some miraculous means, what rapidly became one of the best smelling beers I've ever encountered also turned out to be one of the best tasting. Who'd have thunk!

As you can imagine then, what we're dealing with here is a drink of exemplary all-round quality, but oddly enough that's not the best thing about it.

It's not just a good beer – it's also a useful one.

I think this could be the perfect beverage to bridge the gap between those who are keen to remain within the hallowed walls of Traditional Beersville, and those who have flown that particular nest and feel determined never to return.

Ingeniously, Vertigo sums-up in one delicious glass the last half decade or so of creativity which has all but transformed the beer industry, whilst also being a beer imbued with a super clear sense of tradition. It's unquestionably a 'funky modern', but it's also one of those ever-familiar fine ales we've all grown to love at some point in our beer-supping lives. In effect, this is a brew that drinks like a concise appraisal of beer's entire story, starting right back from ale's humble beginnings, and zooming right the way through to the current outer margins of contemporary ingenuity and innovation.

Very often I find myself thinking how glad I am that I'm a beer drinker at this particular point in time. Lovers of the brewer's art today have such a wealth of options available to them, there are almost no limits to the variety of flavours, textures and aromas, notwithstanding the boundless range of colours, strengths and even recommended serving temperatures to constantly leave us with exciting new territory to explore. And for those not wishing to leap too far from tradition, there are obviously still an abundance of well known, 'classic style' beers being produced and enjoyed. But just to have the option of switching back and forth from our old favourites to the new breed of flavour-forward concoctions makes us a very lucky bunch in my estimation.

And what beers like Vertigo give us – is the chance to do both all at once.

Beers like Vertigo shrink the gap between old and new beer styles with effortless grace, and they are pretty much guaranteed to leave members of all three camps (the trads, the mods and the go-betweens) with nothing but smiles on their satisfied faces.

When I say beers 'like' Vertigo, I don't mean Black IPA's, necessarily. Some of these beers can feel distinctly 'edgy' and contemporary (which is fine by me),whilst others can feel like someone has simply applied 'new funky jargon' onto the label of a watery stout.

Vertigo is an excellent drink in its own right, which happens to wear the Black IPA name (with strong justification), but which takes the concept of 'style fusion' back to its essential roots. Consequently, you have a beer which feels fresh, modern and dynamic, but which is also appropriately aware of the back-story to its own existence.

As I started writing this, I felt that listing the many flavours at work within this beer was much less important than stressing just how enjoyable and how downright 'important' I believe this brew is, as well as how the assembly of Vertigo's flavours is every bit as key as the nature of them. But as I know that such an omission would (rightfully) annoy most of you, I'll now pull out just a few of the major flavour players -

Tropical tree fruit, hedgerow berries, rich molasses, dark roast coffee, star anise, kiwi, gooseberry, burnt toast, licorice, traditional 'fruit salad' chews, black forest gateaux, wild grass, giant lorry loads more.... are you getting the picture?

Let me re-emphasise, though, that this beer is about so much more than taste. It's an education. A comprehensive lesson in beer's history, starting at the very beginning, and showing us all just how far we have come.

A modern beer with a classic soul.

It is simply magnificent.

Find it, buy it, drink it.

Whatever beers you love, you will love this beer.



Monday, 4 March 2013

My 'Top 5' Craft Beers in LA






Over the last twelve months I spent a total of six weeks in and around Los Angeles, sampling contemporary American beer whenever I deemed it appropriate to do so. (Nearly always.)

A beer-loving statistician might argue that this is not possibly enough time to get a full perspective on the US craft beer scene and I'd usually be among the first to agree, but by the end of my most recent trip over there, I reckon I've been sufficiently exposed (and sufficiently well advised before any exposure) to feel confident enough to list the best five brews I have come across on American soil.

As a bottled beer themed website, I wanted to limited the list to those beers which can be bought in bottled form, but some of these are either too new or too 'niche' to have made it onto the bottling line, but assurances were given to me that most of these will be both 'on tap' and 'under cap' within the very near future.

And so, in no particular order...


Avery - 'Maharaja' (Imperial IPA)





The undisputed talk of the town in Hollywood and its near neighbours, I first tried this at the marvellous Stout Burgers & Beer on Cahuenga Boulevard shortly after seeing a burst of frenetic activity behind the bar which (it turned out) had been triggered by a fresh consignment of this beer finally being hooked up to a tap. Moments before this excitement began I'd ordered something else entirely, but the bartender brought me Maharaja instead because "This is something you just have to try..."

She was right. With this beer, Avery have probably elevated the IPA to a point beyond which it will simply have to be called something else. Technically an 'Imperial' IPA, which loosely means it's had a multi-stage ramping up of strength, flavour and general awesomeness, and weighing in at a fairly hospitalising 10.4 ABV, this is quite simply the mothership of all other beers wearing those three ubiquitous capital letters. Of all the double, triple, quadruple or bigger India Pale Ale's in the known universe, there is none better than this masterwork of creativity.


Angel City - 'Angelino IPA'





Just arriving in the bars of Los Angeles, this beer is about as enjoyable a drink as I've tasted in recent times. With shades of Thornbridge's sublime 'Kipling' and BrewDog's 'Punk IPA' this is an exquisitely crafted highly hopped beer which is impossibly easy drinking and comes imbued with a sense of freshness which is peerless in my experience. Without doubt, Angel City will be a dominant craft brewery in two years time. No question.


Dogfish '90 Minute IPA'





This brew is already a big fish having recently been voted Best Craft Beer In America (I forget who by, but whoever they are I can't really argue with them). It's another of those US IPA's that can only really be enjoyed in small amounts due to the crazy levels of alcohol they come armed with, but the bewildering array of flavours at work here make that small amount truly memorable. It's not a one-trick-(hop)-pony like some modern IPA's can justifiably be accused of being - there are dynamic spices, funky herbs and all kinds of malt-derived deeper flavours that add up to a mind-bending showcase of brewing ingenuity.


North Coast 'Old Rasputin' (Imperial Stout)





They might not win as many headlines, but it's worth pointing out that the 'dark' beers in the US craft movement are every bit as impressive as the hop bombs. Some of my most pleasant surprises on the Pacific Coast have been in reaction to stouts and porters, many of which could give anything I've ever tried in Dublin or London a decent run for its money. However, I won't try to pretend might that I paid as close attention to the darks on either recent trip - although this is a state of affairs I intend never to repeat! Of the relatively few 'roasty toasty' brews I sampled Old Rasputin was a stand out, and it had me nodding my head sagaciously right from the off. Everything you'd want from a stout with a whole load of elements you never dreamed you'd want. A very clever beer.


Bear Republic - 'Cafe Racer 15' (Double IPA)





Most often found at The Blue Palms Brewhouse on Hollywood Boulevard, this beer is every bit the challenger for Maharaja's reputation as the best Imperial/Double IPA around. What we have here is essentially the big sister to Racer 5 - the much lauded brew which careered around the globe winning the hearts of relentless hop-fiends everywhere. In short, if you enjoyed Racer 5, imagine a beer that's almost exactly three times as good. Nuff said.


Notable others -


Russian River 'Blind Pig' (IPA)

A lower ABV India Pale Ale which sacrifices little in terms of flavour impact but comes with the advantage of being drinkable in amounts greater than two smallish glasses per evening. (A concept still largely ignored by most US craft breweries, who continue to focus almost entirely on high-alcohol brews!)



Stone 'Ruination' (IPA)

A beer which emphasises my previous point rather beautifully!

Famously powerful, and supposedly every bit as rare. Nonsense! It's available in singles or in four packs in Los Angeles if you take a while to find the right supermarket.





Wednesday, 16 January 2013

Day 158, Beer 158 - Titanic's "Plum Porter"


Today's Beer




Name – Plum Porter

Brewer – Titanic

Classification – Porter. With plums. Naturally.

Strength – 4.9% ABV



Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Rosewood tinged translucent black. Alarmingly attractive.

On the nose – A certain tree fruit dominates the aromas. You'll never guess which.

On the tongue – A novel, but by no means a 'novelty' beer. Rich, fruity, beautifully engineered and impossible to drink without smiling. (See below.)

On the subject – Sinking sea vessels aside, it's taken me far too long to get around to Titanic. Appropriately, this Stoke-based brewery has an increasingly 'big' reputation among ale aficionados (beer geeks), and although it may not the most ubiquitous brand on a national level, it's certainly among the fastest growing.

On the market – You might not find this particular beer in supermarkets, but many of Titanic's core beers are popping up more and more frequently these days. Otherwise, try a specialist retailer to sample some of their more avant-garde products such as today's. I got this one from Newark's Real Ale Store.

On the
whole8/10



Full Review

Rarely has the first sip of a beer produced such a wide and enduring smile.

I should quickly add that around fifty percent of that grin was induced by a profound sense of relief, as I'd fully convinced myself there was little or no chance of me genuinely enjoying this brew.

That prior fear, based on years of crushing disappointment, is a sensation I experience whenever I crack the lid on a drink which claims to be an established beer style (a porter, in today's case) that has been somehow 'enhanced' with use of an extra, supposedly 'bonus' ingredient. In these days of evermore feverish innovation this additional item could be anything from chocolate or ginger, vanilla, horseradish, caramelised church bench, or the ground bones of the head-brewer's former boss.

(Those latter two may be fictional at the time of writing, but it's surely now only a matter of months...)

Plum, then, could actually be regarded as a reassuringly conservative choice, and in many ways its easy to imagine why the rich, deep roasted character of a stout or porter might benefit from the sweet, tangy sharpness of any number of dark skinned tree or hedge fruits.

My problem is that these 'special' beers can all too often wind up tasting like the kind of tinned confectionery we only ever receive from that elderly lady across the street at Christmas.

Basically, they have a tendency to taste exactly like what the breweries will never admit they actually are. Public relations tools. Firms feel obligated to churn these 'creations' out every once in a while to remind the world that their businesses are populated by warm blooded human beings as well as dispassionate machines, and to remind their rivals that they can be every bit as innovative (bonkers) as they can. It can often feel like companies brew the occasional quirky beer purely to demonstrate that they can, not because they particularly should.

Personally, I don't drink beers in order to marvel that they're possible, I usually just drink them because they're nice.

However, very occasionally, these brewery muscle-flexing sessions will result in something which is not only ground breaking, unique and hugely painstaking to achieve (blah blah blah), but which also happens to be genuinely delicious.

Mercifully, Plum Porter is very much among these beautiful anomalies.

Sumptuous swirling suggestions of liquorice, smoked bacon, cocoa, fresh picked herbs and soft spice – all very much in the porter tradition – combine wonderfully with the guest star of the show, the unmistakable presence of that ultra-juicy, perfectly ripened plum, which imposes itself determinedly upon the overall flavour without ever overstepping that fine line and heading off toward brutal domination. It does get close to that line at times, but if anything that adds a welcome 'tension' to the experience which might otherwise be perfectly pleasant but much less dynamic. There's also a lovely little cameo performance from rhubarb which, in my estimation at least, comes dangerously close to stealing the show at various stages during a full glass.

The body has substance, but there's also an agreeable lightness to it, making the instinct to pour an immediate second glass pretty darned compelling, and the complex aromas have that 'please let me have just one more sniff' quality which is all but guaranteed to earn you a police caution.

There's little doubt that this an extremely successful foray into the potentially hazardous realms of recipe experimentation, and I really needn't have wasted any time at all worrying about it.

Sometimes, 'funking' a beer up can prove to be nothing less than a typo.

With this though, Titanic have brewed a very classy porter and given it a distinctive edge with restrained use of creative ingenuity.

In truth, I image that's what all breweries are really aiming for whenever they have a go at a 'special'.

Few ever get it as right as this.





Tuesday, 18 December 2012

Day 157, Beer 157 - Wye Valley's "Butty Bach"


Today's Beer




Name – Butty Bach

Brewer – Wye Valley

Classification – Premium Ale

Strength – 4.5% ABV



Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Caramelised, honeyed apricot.

On the nose – A whole world of malted buttery loveliness.

On the tongue – A proper classic-style bitter. Nutty, fruity, and laced with pleasing hints of British woodland foliage. Sounds great doesn't it, so why am I sobbing in the corner? (Read on...)

On the subject – Herefordshire's Wye Valley Brewery have, courtesy of this beer, brought my entire life to a crucial moment. (Read on...)

On the market – This company's reach has been increasing of late, with various supermarkets now getting the message which, obviously, is great for them. If only this could be said of so many other fabulous British breweries of similar size. I weep. Anyway, contact the brewery direct for sales info.

On the
whole8/10



Full Review


There ain't nothing wrong with this beer.

Now, it could be argued that opening lines such as the one you have just read are deliberately ambiguous. Sometimes, sentences of this kind in beer reviews are significant purely in terms of what they don't say.

After all, just because a brew is largely free of faults, it doesn't necessarily follow that it's overrun with plus points.

Personally, I'd say I must have imbibed hundreds of 'faultless' beers which I'd completely forgotten about seconds after they've been swallowed.

An awful beer, on the other hand, will almost never leave you alone, even if you only took a couple of sips from it over twenty years ago. This is a devastating reality which ruins not only individual evenings, but can also set back careers, break up families and end worlds.

I'm exaggerating only very slightly there, as anyone who's ever had to politely sit through an entire glassful of their mate's rubbish home-brew will know only too well.

But the far more widely experienced reality here on Earth comes in the form of that extensive bunch of beers which fall into the rather curious category of 'being perfectly pleasant.'

In fact, probably the majority of the beers we'll ever taste will fall within that catchment.

Now, given that I'm talking in these terms here today, you would be forgiven for suspecting I'm going to include Butty Bach in this pretty enormous group of ales.

Well, for a while, that's exactly what I thought was going to happen, until I took a moment to put the sampling of this beer into context, and what happened next was rather profound.

Before this beer, I had reviewed several beers which represent (in stunning fashion) the very best of what is increasingly referred to as either 'contemporary', 'new wave' or perhaps most commonly 'craft' beer.

I'm talking about beers such as Oakham's 'Green Devil IPA', Odell's '5Barrel Pale Ale', Moor's 'Revival' and Thornbridge's 'Chiron' – each of which is quite simply 'big' in its impact upon your body and soul. As is arguably the defining characteristic of craft beer, 'more is always more' with these creations, whether it be in terms of flavour, process, or the sheer amount of ingredients.

As my reviews of these beers make clear, I happen to like these brews a heck of a lot. I've welcomed all beers of 'this kind' to the party and I sincerely hope they stay until the very end.

But my response to these beers has triggered an unfortunate side effect.

When I subsequently sit back down with a beer like today's – which faithfully represents the sort of drink which got me interested in 'beer' in the first place – the closest I can get to a full-on positive reaction is nearly always the same...

“There's nothing wrong with this.”

For someone who has loved beer for so long, this is a pretty grim experience to find yourself having.

I'd really like to hear from anyone else who has faced this situation head on, either now or previously, because I'd very much like to know what can be done about it.

In the meantime, let me just say that Butty Bach, for all I know, is probably an exceptional example of a beer style I'm a little bit indifferent to right at this moment. It's got some excellent malt elements – rich and buttery, nutty, with soft caramel and granary loaf undertones – it also has a good range of fruit notes, it's woody and herbal in just the right places, it's bitter but not harsh, it's sweet but not syrupy... it really sounds like I'm talking about a very good beer here.

And I probably am.

Maybe Wye Valley could take everything this drink is already doing and simply 'ramp it up' a little, and make it come at me with a bit more conviction, perhaps even with a little bit of a swagger. But wouldn't that just be inviting the beer to cross over into the 'other' camp, thereby depriving it of the very identity it always intended to have?

I think I'm a bit confused.

I think my allegiance to all my 'old favourite' beers is probably now officially in question.

I think perhaps 'craft beer' has lot of bloody explaining to do.

For now, though, let me end like this...

Butty Bach is a very good example of a classic style English premium ale – and the significance of that conclusion is very different today to what it would have been 157 beer reviews ago.

And I honestly don't know how I feel about that...



Tuesday, 11 December 2012

Day 156, Beer 156 - Odell's "5 Barrel Pale Ale"


Today's Beer




Name – 5 Barrel Pale Ale

Brewer – Odell

Classification – Yup, you guessed it, this is a pale ale!

Strength – 5.2% ABV



Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Lustrous beeswax amber. Utter glory.

On the nose – Massive orange, massive dark rum-infused malt, massive smiles.

On the tongue – Boundless complexity and dynamism. Tangerine, black treacle, ginger, wildgrasses, exotic herbs and spices, and a further list of flavours as long as your arm. (Assuming your arm is around seventy miles in length.)

On the subject – Colorado based Odell's have been central players in the US 'craft beer' movement from the onset having started out long before any such concept was conceived way back in the mid 1990's. The beers they produce are among the best examples of what 'craft' really is. If you haven't yet been introduced to this distinctive new world of beer creation, I can think of few better places to start.

On the market – Tragic UK availability. I'm not kidding, it's seriously upsetting. It's hard enough finding great contemporary British beers here in Britain, but finding a great American version is about as easy as discovering Atlantis, or Valhalla, or a trustworthy car dealership. I got this sample from The Real Ale Store, and only similar specialist outlets can sell this brew to you at the present time. To those of you who currently reside in the US, I hereby transmit relentless waves of jealous rage.

On the
whole9.5/10



Full Review

Some reviews are harder to write than others.

Even for the most passionate beer aficionados (shameless geeks) it can be tricky to appear enthusiastic about a beer you found more or less coma-inducing, when perhaps the only redeeming feature of the brew was how delicious it looked in the moments before you tasted it and learned otherwise.

Fortunately, such beers are rare, making the challenge of having to write about them equally uncommon.

Terrible beers are easy to write about because they tend to make you angry, and anger has a canny knack of assisting with writing, as any sports journalists assigned to Nottingham Forest over recent years will testify.

Excellent beers, similarly, tend to stir the soul sufficiently to ensure the compilation of any subsequent appraisal is a fairly straightforward task.

However, in addition to dull beers, awful beers and generally marvellous beers, there's a certain other kind of brew which comes along only very infrequently, which can drag your mind and spirit into unpredictable territory, and transform the task of sitting down and writing into a particularly daunting task.

I'm talking about the beers you love.

Yes... those beers.

I'm talking about beers which generate primal reactions of such intensity that they can render otherwise competent brains utterly redundant.

I'm talking about beers which leave tongues tied, minds empty, typing-hands clammy, and which can lead to sentences like this one being rephrased up to twenty times before being completely deleted, only to be retyped all over again.

I'm talking about the instant favourite beers. Those which steal your heart in a single moment and never give it back to you.

Specifically, in today's case, I'm talking about a beer named '5 Barrel Pale Ale.'

Oh boy...

(Weighty pause...)

The experience of drinking this beer is so profoundly enjoyable that – even if I possessed the necessary talent to do so – I would not be fully able to share it with you here today without risking arrest on various charges of gross indecency.

I'm not even kidding.

The only reason I didn't weep with joy throughout this tasting was because my tear-ducts physically removed themselves midway through and ran off to buy a bottle of their own. These are the unbridled extremes of pleasure that we're dealing with here.

So, given the (presumed) legal limitations imposed upon me, and given that I'm actually finding it increasingly hard to see anything due to my eyeballs being without moisture (my tear-ducts have been gone a while now), I'm going to make a brief attempt to outline the key elements of this modern-day miracle.

Ridiculously vivid tropical/citrus/intergalactic fruits – chiefly mango, apricot, blood orange, grapefruit – have been perfectly aligned with soft wildgrasses, exotic spices and fresh herbs, and then let loose upon a malt base infused with the deep restrained sweetness of honey roasted nuts, French toast and molasses, which complements all those hop-derived higher notes every bit as well as wide open sea does to wide open sky. It really is on that level of 'made-to-measure' perfection that these elements are coexisting. The flavours in this beer fundamentally belong together – is the overriding impression throughout. And for this many flavours to have been so intricately and successfully assembled, reveals beyond any doubt that there are people with unusual levels of ingenuity, vision and plain old skill currently at work in the Odell's brewhouse.

The body has that quintessentially 'US craft' feel to it - with simultaneous firmness and lightness defying the laws of science and vying deliciously for your attention, the aromas are staggering in their unrelenting complexity, and the stuff even manages to look amazing.

This beer is quite simply vast.

It's a genuine craft beer beacon, illuminating the full extent of the possibilities here in this super-exciting age of contemporary beer creation.

Frustratingly though, I'll never be able to properly convey the true nature of it's impact to you because, try as I might, I just can't find the words.

That's what love can do to you.