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 whole – 8/10

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...

Day 148, Beer 148 - Windsor & Eton's "Canberra"

Today's Beer

Name – Canberra

Brewer – Windsor & Eton

Classification – Commonwealth Ale (Confused? Read on...)

Strength – 4.0% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Deep, lustrous chestnut. Like some gloriously implausible rum and molasses cocktail.

On the nose – Good God! Big hops with equal treacle (which should be a band name) underscored with delicious smoky liquorice (which definitely should not be a band name).

On the tongue – Rich, rewarding and complex with fabulously zesty hops, all kinds of complimentary sub-flavours and an overall punch far greater than its strength ought to allow.

On the subject – This is the final beer of three brewed by Windsor & Eton to commemorate ‘Jubilee 2012’, and it’s arguable they've saved the very best for last. (See one of them reviewed here, and trust me that the other was totally ace.)

On the market – Another ‘grab it while you can’ beer arrives on The Bottled Beer Year, with the safest bet of doing so being to purchase from the brewery direct.

On the whole – 9/10

Full Review

As the inevitable 'end of year reviews' begin to clog up every last media outlet over the coming weeks, much will be said about what has been (in any UK-linked territory at least) the 50^th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth’s time spent having to shake hands with unwell, poorly paid taxpayers – otherwise known as The Diamond Jubilee.

What might not be mentioned during all this dewy-eyed hullabaloo – not nearly as much as it should be, at least – is the relatively small contribution made to these festivities by a certain UK brewery, in the form of three enormously lovely (and even more enormously diverse) commemorative beers.

Long before this year-long national party had started, the magicians at Windsor & Eton had been quietly impressing me and thousands of other ale fundamentalists with an ever growing roster of astonishing beers, each of which manages to combine cutting edge characteristics and flavour themes with an equally immediate sense of tradition – an elusive little trick which few other breweries ever quite manage to pull off.

Uniquely, Canberra is called a ‘Commonwealth Ale’, and whilst that’s probably just the brewery entering into the spirit of their own idea and having a bit of fun with the royal theme, it’s also perfectly fitting that they should essentially invent an entirely new beer style for this brew because in my experience there just ain’t nothing like it currently available on the open market.

From the moment of contact with the lips this stuff begins racing around the full flavour spectrum like the proverbial bat out of Berkshire, and before you can properly identify any specific notes – it’s already begun firing barrages of new tastes at you as though it genuinely intends to kill you.

And this pleasantly aggressive characteristic is one of the things that most impresses about Canberra. After you remind yourself of the relatively benign alcohol content (4.0% ABV),  you realise it beggars belief how they've managed to empower this drink with such a wealth of robust flavours as well as its almost menacing sense of inner might.

Specifically, the flavours at play here are spiced orange citrus, ginger cake, green figs, fennel, restrained cocoa, delicate traces of maple syrup – and the malts underpin all of this with a super-unique roasted nut, char-grilled tree sap kind of a twang which, frankly, leaves you wanting to sit the hell down and contemplate the inside of your own mouth for a good old while.

This really is a genuinely dynamic and hugely rewarding concoction.

All in all, this three beer salute to the British monarch has been imbued with a majesty every bit as grand as the one it was intended to reflect. The only difference being that this Windsor brewery has taken just a few short years to generate the same glorious heritage which a certain other local resident needed half a century to acquire.

An exaggeration?

Sip it and see.

Day 125, Beer 125 - Belhaven's "Fruit Beer"

Today's Beer

Name – Fruit Beer

Brewer – Belhaven

Classification – Premium flavoured ale

Strength – 4.6% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Deep chestnut red. By no means ugly.

On the nose – Potent rich fruits (quelle surprise!) and buttery roasted malts.

On the tongue – Fruity. There, I've said it. But this is by no means a one trick pony...(read on)

On the subject – And so, I reach the last of my Belhaven batch. (Sob, snuffle...). These are great beers. Their tendency to be full-bodied, malt-friendly and gently sweet make them traditional feeling Scottish ales for sure, but the range is varied enough and the individual recipes are dynamic enough to appeal to all tastes, without exception. I've certainly enjoyed every one of them.

On the market – Greene King's guiding hand is brining these beers to a wider market, but if your supermarket doesn't yet stock this one, go online at the brewery's own web store.

On the whole – 8/10

Full Review

Boy, was I cautious.

You might even say I was wary.

Afraid.

I mean, 'Fruit Beer' is one heck of a name. The possibilities are endless in terms of what is actually about to enter your mouth, and given my long established difficulties with certain beers (from certain breweries) which habitually play the 'fruit card'... well, let's just say this could have been a real train wreck.

But it wasn't.

Not a single locomotive came to harm.

The good news doesn't end their, either, because far from being a disaster – this beer turned out to be something of a surprise hit.

It's actually quite lovely stuff.

In these days of increasing obsession with dark-berried fruits and high intensity citrus, this is actually quite a 'now' feeling brew, because there's plenty of all of that on show here.

Yes, there's slightly more of an overt 'sweetness' to the citrus than you might find in a 'modern trendy', and maybe the dark berries aren't as quite so deliberately potent and immediate, but then, maybe that's to be grateful for, because it certainly gives this drink a 'sessionable' quality which many of the new beers can lack. Quite simply, one of these is not enough.

The malts here are firm and delicious, but it's definitely a supporting role in this case. It's those juicy, newly ripened fruits – notably blackberry and strawberry, but with suggestions of peach, gooseberry and cherry – which steal the focus in this beer, and they do so in some style without ever overacting.

From start to finish, the fruits and the malts are offset beautifully with an essential and skilfully pitched bitterness.

It's a Belhaven beer for sure, and to be able to notice that is a credit to the team up in Dunbar, whose fabulously characterful ales I've enjoyed tremendously, and will certainly be doing so again.

Day 122, Beer 122 - Badger's "Long Days"

Today's Beer

Name – Long Days

Brewer – Badger

Classification – Premium ale

Strength – 4.5% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Deep orange amber.

On the nose – Miraculous. Ultra top note confectionery sweetness. Like nothing else. (I couldn't stop sniffing!)

On the tongue – Very sweet. I can't really expand on that. You'd better read on...

On the subject – Hall & Woodhouse, brewing under the Badger name, pretty much have an entire corner of the UK's bottled beer market all to themselves. Most people my age grew up with them, but that can be said for people of just about any age, as this is brewery can trace it's roots back to 1777. That statistic never ceases to thrill me.

On the market – You already have several at home. But if, somehow, you don't (or if you've misplaced them) simply go to any nearby shop, or try the brewery's very own online store.

On the whole – 6.5/10

Full Review

“How to be diplomatic?”, he pondered.

The reason he pondered on 'diplomacy' and not 'vitriolic indignation' was because he knew that today's beer wasn't horrid or poorly crafted, it was just very unlike the sort of beer he normally desired.

He's me, naturally.

He's referring to himself in the third person partly because he's ashamed by the stubborn limitations of his own tastes, and partly because he doesn't relish the idea of dishing out lacklustre reviews to beers which mean only to bring delight.

This beer is shamelessly well-intentioned. It's good-natured, upbeat, and you can tell right away that it would never hurt a fly.

Flies wouldn't hurt it back either, I suspect.

Actually, I'm fairly sure flies would love it.

And that's not me smuggling in a barbed comment, it's just that this ale is packed with the sort of natural, cottage garden, honeysuckle and peach sweetness which not only flies, but all manner of God's creatures would doubtless go generally bonkers over.

But not humans.

Or if so, not quite so enthusiastically.

Well, not this human anyway.

And the reason I wouldn't go bonkers over it is perfectly straightforward.

This beer is just too, too, too, too sweet.

That was four 'toos' and it still doesn't feel like enough.

It's a sweetness which reaches almost entirely beyond natural ingredients, and begins to tread upon territory usually reserved for boiled sweets or perfumed candles. So striking is it, that in some ways this beer could be seen as a pretty bold statement. The proudly raised fist of a non-conformist. A candy-coated act of outright rebellion.

At one stage I actually sat marvelling at the courage of the brewer who had stood by and allowed the relentless slide toward sweetness to continue as far as it eventually did. How he or she summoned-up the will to suppress the loud cry of 'Stop!' I will never know.

They must have realised that by encouraging this beer further and further into the sweet ever-after, they were simultaneously narrowing the margins in terms of its appeal. I mean, I'm absolutely certain there's a market for intensely rich floral and fruit sweetness in ale (the reason I'm certain is the continued dominance of Badger in the mass bottled beer market) and it's only fair that all taste should be catered for by the industry at large. But, by heavens, my tongue seems truly determined never to allow me to discover the joys of drinking such fluids.

Well, it's certainly in no hurry to allow it at the moment, put it that way.

Badger, though, continue to serve the sweet-loving brigade with unbridled enthusiasm, and I commend them for that with all sincerity. There is such a sense of pride in the drinks they produce, and they know exactly what they are doing.

I just wish I was able to share in the rewards of their passionate endeavours.

I can only hope that some day I will be.

Day 121, Beer 121 - St. Austell's "Admiral's Ale"

Today's Beer

Name – Admiral's Ale

Brewer – St Austell

Classification – Premium ale/ESB

Strength – 5.0% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Rich, deep chestnut. Really quite handsome. Quite bubbly and 'lively' for a bottle-conditioned beer, but I ultimately found that to be a bonus with this beer.

On the nose – Very special. Rampant citrus, chiefly apple and blackberry, with soft sweet-biscuit malts.

On the tongue – Packed. Utterly rammed with flavours. But not quite the flavours you are prepared for... (see below). 

On the subject – Well, whether you take great interest in industry awards, or whether you look down your turned-up nose at them, this beer couldn't care less either way. It's far too busy polishing the contents of it's very own trophy cabinet. Seriously, if you want to get in touch with this beer, you'll have talk to it's people. It doesn't have time for riff-raff since it became 'World Beer Of The Cosmos Totally Ever' and goodness knows what else. During a recent rare interview, Admirals Ale was quoted as saying that all other UK beers should “go get themselves some lives!”

On the market – All over the place. You can't miss it. By all means pretend you can't find one and buy online at the brewery's own shop.

On the whole – 8/10

Full Review

The 'Admiral' in question here is of course Admiral - or 'Lord' - Nelson, and it's funny how names like his still have a nasty tendency to drag me kicking and screaming all the way back to school.

It's really only a best guess, but I think the name of my history teacher was “Mr Jenkins.”

As far as I can recall, he was a fairly sweet natured, youngish guy, with an infectious sense of humour, a certain 'laddish' charm and an enviable supply of tolerance. But he was still a teacher, so I hated his guts.

To be honest, my recollection of him as a person isn't massively clear, but this is probably because I spent almost every moment of his classes doing nothing other than wish for the ceiling to collapse suddenly and kill us all.

I didn't like school much.

Today, however, I'm wishing I had paid more attention when 'Mr Jenkins' was telling us all about the legendary 1st Viscount Nelson, because today I have sampled a beer by St Austell Brewery which suggests that this national hero was actually a figure of huge contradictions. I really don't recall hearing anything about this particular aspect of dear old Horatio's character. But then, I took on board so very little information during those sessions it's a wonder that I know anything about him at all.

Didn't he invent French people?

Or discover North Norfolk?

Anyway, having just (rapidly and enthusiastically) sunk this premium bitter dedicated to the man himself, I think I've learned something quite remarkable about the human being that lies behind the legend, something altogether less well-known about this Super-Mariner-Brother which is considerably more intriguing than any of his historical exploits. It's a little-known fact about a well-known man, a fact which a certain Cornish brewery is clearly very keen for us all to be aware of, and which I'm going to take the liberty of revealing to you right here and now...

Vice-Admiral Nelson smelled remarkably different to how he tasted.

Incredible, isn't it?

It's an awesome slice of genuine insight which – without this beer – so many of us might never have known.

And here's the ingenious way in which this deliciously educational drink provides us with this knowledge.

Cracking the lid on this beer is like slamming nose-first into a mountain of freshly picked apples and hedgerow berries. The intensity of that initial citrus waft is electrifying, with that dominant apple theme filling your captivated mind with images of verdant juicy orbs hanging from endless rows of heavily laden trees.

It's mightily good. Few beers have ever been quite so welcome to invade my nostrils, an invasion made all the more pleasant by the faintest undercurrent of roasted cashew and macadamia nuts which issues gently forth from the malt.

However, shortly after this sensory firecracker explodes, another of your senses proceeds to bombard your brain with a startlingly different set of images – and herein lies the flavour-derived suggestion that Lord Nelson was a highly contradictory character.

The taste of this ale could hardly be more different from it's aroma. In the mouth, this is a much darker, broodier, maltier affair, with swathes of burnt treacle, steamed dates, licorice and candied fruits all emerging from shadowy hidey holes to beguile you and melt your tongue into submission. 

After all that zesty razzle-dazzle you've had coming from the fragrance - these deep, rich and roasty flavours are an overwhelming surprise. 

'Where the heck did that come from!', was my one and only thought for a good two minutes.

But lovers of crisp bitterness need not worry – it's not as though the aforementioned hop-fuelled citrus leaves the party at the tasting stage – it's merely joined by a bunch of guests you never dreamt had been invited.

This is a proud, robust and elegant tasting brew, one which would enhance an Autumn evening as well as any other beer choosing to market itself in such a way.

Maybe Nelson really was a man of contradictions, and maybe this beer reflects that rather ingeniously. 

Or maybe it's just a coincidence that this ale is so deliciously 'multifaceted.' 

Whichever way you look at it, this is a rich, fruity, zesty, roasted-malt marvel of a beer.

A beer you should definitely be looking to sample if you haven't yet done so.

Day 97, Beer 97 - Belhaven's "St. Andrews Ale"

Today's Beer

Name – St. Andrews Ale

Brewer – Belhaven

Classification – Premium Scottish Ale

Strength – 4.6% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Deep cherrywood. Eye-catching carbonation.

On the nose – A sumptuous clash of sharp hops and buttery malts. Very nice.

On the tongue – Bold, rich, dry and fruity.

On the subject – Over the centuries, Dunbar's Belhaven have learned to keep things simple, choosing to stick with a small range of high quality ales rather than brewing themselves into a semi-stupour and announcing 'exciting' new labels every other day - as so many breweries seem obliged to do these days. The results are elegant and impressive.

On the market – Can be tricky when looking 'beyond the borders', but Belhaven's online store will be happy to oblige.

On the whole – 8/10

Full Review

Those of you who know and love golf will doubtless know and love St. Andrews. Considered by many to be the home of the game, it is about as highly regarded as a place can be.

So, to name a beer after such a venerated location is a pretty big deal, and Belhaven must have known the risk they were taking by doing so. It inevitably places a heck of a lot of pressure on the drink – before it has even been poured – and one just can't help but expect something altogether 'legendary' from it.

But does it deliver?

Well, I'd say it probably took me about a sip and a half to stop worrying about such trivialities as legends and comparisons, and from that point on I just knuckled down to the merry business of enjoying myself enormously.

This is a very drinkable ale, and it is imbued with enough character, charm and charisma to suggest it wouldn't give a damn what you thought of it.

Scottish ales are seldom afraid to make an impact on you, there is often a warrior-like quality inherent in these brews – and there are few warriors more noble and elegant than St. Andrews Ale.

The fruits are bold, tangy and robust, but they are countered by a deliciously salty bitterness which, along with the softly nutty malt base results in a nice sense of balance and enough overall complexity to keep you guessing throughout.

That guessing game will throw up all manner of delights including apple, apricot, elderberry, watermelon, cookie dough, wood chips, burnt toffee and faint spices. There's a lot to it, but it never feels like it's trying overly hard to bedazzle – everything feels measured and carefully controlled.

It's a commanding and assertive beer, but also a refined and satisfying one.

Whether it's worthy of a legend or not hardly matters.

It's a very enjoyable beer, and that's enough for me.