Showing posts with label Sussex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sussex. Show all posts

Friday, 26 August 2011

Day 126, Beer 126 - Ballard's "Nyewood Gold"


Today's Beer




Name – Nyewood Gold

Brewer – Ballard's

Classification – Premium golden ale

Strength – 5% ABV



Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Deep gold. Hypnotically carbonated, probably due to the very decent bottle-conditioning.

On the nose – The word is 'gentle'. Gentle hops. Gentle malts. Gentle general loveliness.

On the tongue – The maltiest 'gold' in town. And it works a treat.

On the subject – Named after their location in Nyewood, Sussex, this beer is the second from Ballard's I've tried so far. It takes only two beers to spot an outstanding brewery, and you're reading about one right now.

On the market – Growing availabilty, and it could not grow fast enough in my opionion. Don't wait, go online at the brewery's web store.

On the
whole9/10



Full Review

'Unique.'

It's a word many beers aim for.

Some beers, however, don't appear to have targeted uniqueness as such – it's almost as though they've achieved it via a sequence of happy accidents.

Today's modestly labelled golden ale is quite simply like no other I've tried – and I mean ever. By my reckoning, it could lay claim to be the pioneering ale of an entirely new genre.

But don't misunderstand that – this is not a 'work in progress'. It's not a quirky prototype or a 'concept' beer. This is the finished road-going model, and it's heading to a bottle shop near you in exactly this form.

And what a form that is.

The principle flavour theme in this beer – apart from being almost hypnotically delicious – is a malt derived flavour which, for a golden ale, is not exactly routine to say the least.

In fact, this is such a richly malty beer – it almost defies it's own classification. But it has to be said that I'm a little wary of using the word 'malty' because of the array of usual flavour suspects that this word is bound to bring to people's minds. Therefore, it is essential that I stress that this is an entirely different kind of malt flavour, one which is so distinctive that it had me frantically reaching for the label in a state of ecstatic bewilderment.

But what secrets did I learn from that label?

Well, they've used Pearl malt, apparently.

And of course there's nothing overtly revolutionary about that. Although it was interesting to see they mention the malt almost immediately, as though to give thanks to what they believe is the the chief source of all this loveliness. And that might very well be the case, but I'll wager that a single malt, however lovely it might be, is unlikely to be the full explanation for a flavour like this one.

I reckon Ballard's have got something else up their sleeve's here, something very special, and they're pointing the finger at the Pearl malt in order to divert attention.

This flavour is a rich, robust, playfully spicy, herb-like affair. It's not a million miles from ginger, but it's not ginger. It's not a million miles from cinnamon, but it's not cinnamon. This same 'not a million miles' principle could be applied to flapjack, various liqueurs, all manner of spiced pastries, and no small amount of things that you simply would never taste but suddenly wish you had – like wood chips, creosote, and rain soaked straw bales.

This is just one flavour (others do feature in this beer, many of them much more typically 'golden ale' bitter citrus flavours), it has tremendous presence in the mouth, never holding back or hiding away – but for all it's impact, it's a real tough flavour to properly identify. It's almost too vivid to detect, if that's not an utter contradiction.

For those people who faint at the thought of ordering a yellow beer, fearing little in the way of depth or balance – I suggest that you drink this ale at your very first opportunity. Not only is it deep and balanced, but it has these qualities in greater amounts than many copper ales, bitters or premium amber beers.

Actually, this brew is quite weird, in many respects.

But in many more respects – it's utterly wonderful, and it quickly became a very firm favourite for me.

A solid, impossibly complex, rich, malty golden ale – which retains all of that golden beer hoppiness – but then throws in a ton of other elements that you would never have expected.

This is golden beer of an entirely new kind.


Friday, 1 July 2011

Day 101, Beer 101 - Ballard's "Best Bitter"

Today's Beer


Name – Best Bitter

Brewer – Ballard's

Classification – I'll let you take a guess, but the clue is kinda in the name...(see above)

Strength – 4.2% ABV


Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye– Rich, deep and radiant orange amber. Gorgeous.

On the nose – Dry roasted nuts, pepper, spices and liquorice with faint high citrus.

On the tongue – A sharp, bitter, nutty and well hopped brew which tastes and feels as real as any pub served ale. An exemplary bottled beer. One for all breweries to be aware of.

On the subject – I'm just going to say this in the hope that you go on to read the review in full... It may be insignificant, but Ballard's Brewery is run by Carola Brown who – among other things – happens to be a woman. An elusive creature, still, in the world of brewery control. However, if this fact is not insignificant, then I think it might be time for the entire industry to take a good long look at itself, because this one beer alone from Ballard's range is not only a better beer than most others currently on the market – it is also tangibly different. Do read on.

On the market – The relative scarcity of a product like this is nothing less than morally wrong, and shopkeepers everywhere without it on their shelves should hang their heads in shame. Medals of honour and gold stars go to the likes of Waitrose (not known for their poor quality stock!) and Hops & Pips. Or just order a lorryload from the brewery's own online store.

On the whole9.5/10



Full Review

This is like deja vu.

I kept taking sips and thinking – 'I've been here before'. The sense of familiarity came instantaneously and was unwavering.

The odd thing, though (aside from the fact that I know for sure I've never encountered this drink before) is that this strong reaction was not related to the flavour of the beer.

In fact, it wasn't any aspect of the beer itself that felt familiar.

It was the beer's effect.

The beer was working a very strange magic on me. I slipped quickly into a wonderfully contented sense of being in some unspecific somewhere in which I felt comfortable and at home.

After a few sips, I worked out precisely what the cause of this magic was. This beer is essentially a huge number of brews you've loved throughout your life, gathered and fused together into one gloriously evocative ale.

Not a bottled ale, I might add. This fusion of favourites does not consist of all your cherished shop-bought brews. I'm talking about all your favourite pub-bought cask ales, brought together, brewed into one beer and merely served in a bottle.

Without wanting to sound any more deranged than I probably already do - this really is no 'bottled beer' I'm reviewing today. It might have been poured from one, but it sure doesn't look, feel or taste like one. The behaviour, character and the experience of this beer is that of a freshly served and very well kept cask beer, and I suspect that the reason for this is the beautifully executed bottle-conditioning, which deserves closer attention here.

The conditioning of this beer is the best example I've come across. Regular readers will know I've had some pretty heartbreaking experiences with bottle-conditioning during the course of these reviews and I've had some fairly strong thoughts on the subject (here's an example) but this beer has rapidly reminded me why the industry continues to persevere with this concept. I now realise what all these many failed attempts are trying to achieve, and I'm now inclined to think that even failed attempts are worth it – because the cause is a much more noble one than I'd ever realised.

When bottle condition is done badly – it ruins the drink. When bottle conditioning is done well – you get an entirely new kind of experience, and Ballard's Best Bitter is the clearest demonstration of this that I know of. Any sceptics would rethink their stance after a glass of this stuff.

In fact, I would challenge anyone to tell the difference between this and a pub served cask ale in a blind tasting. I invite people to hold such trials all across Britain. I predict 50/50 results across the board.

The body, the carbonation, the freedom of expression and the freshness of the flavours – all say “the landlady just pulled me.”

I hope you'll pardon that hugely ill-chosen phrase.

Of the flavour itself – this is a hop favoured ale (as any proper bitter should be) with absolutely no gaps in the flavour spectrum all the way down to a lovely biscuit and nut malt base. It's taste really does have that feeling of 'completeness' overall, as though someone has taken the time to accommodate each and every receptor on the human tongue, and therefore the capacity of this beer to satisfy is nothing short of jaw dropping.

There's a real feel of nature in this glass. Abundant dry citrus, cereals, soft spices, gentle floral waves, faint granary loaf and flapjack suggestions and so much more besides, but the reality is that it has all been so perfectly crafted that the main flavour of this beer is actually just beer, if you see what I mean. The sense of perfection is so immediate it is almost too hard to believe that it was put together from separate ingredients. All the elements have been combined together so naturally that it feels like it just simply came into being in it's current form like some miraculous biblical arrival.

I need to calm down a little.

Let me just get right back to basics.

This is by far the best 'Best' I've so far found.

It is by far the best bottled-conditioned beer I've so far found.

The only question left is whether or not this is the best beer I've so far found.

It is certainly one of them.

Monday, 20 June 2011

The Dog's Ballards!






With my West End theatrical shenanigans finally at an end, a sense of welcome normality has returned to Beer Year HQ, and that normality has now been further enhanced by the arrival at the door of yet another box of beer.

'O, the gladdening effects of ale's arrival.'

In this instance, the shipment is from Sussex-based Ballard's, who are now in their forth decade of beer production. And what a first rate reputation they have evolved in this time! I'm delighted to say that I'll soon be discovering what that considerable fuss is all about.

The beers are (from left to right) -

'Ballard's Best Bitter' - a best bitter, quite obviously (4.2 % ABV)

'Wassail' - a premium ale (6.0% ABV)

'Odd Couple' - a strong ale/barley wine (8.9% ABV)

'Nyewood Gold' - a premium ale (5.0% ABV)


I don't mind admitting that this bunch of utter Ballard's has got me genuinely worked up!

Look out for the reviews over the coming weeks.



(Permissions for all bad puns used in the making of this article were granted by The Poor Judgement League.)