Day 145, Beer 145 - Oldershaw's "St Wulfram's Summit"

Today's Beer

Name – St Wulfram's Summit

Brewer – Oldershaw

Classification – Bitter

Strength – 4.3% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Deviously traditional. A 'new wave' beer walking among us disguised as an old favourite.

On the nose – Tree bark. Tree sap. Tree fruits. Tree mendous. (I tried not to write that. I honestly did.)

On the tongue – Peppery, sharp citrus bitterness, pine nut and savoury biscuit malts. Decidedly 'unbad.' (My word. Leave it alone.)

On the subject – Proof positive that this brewery, having taken recent giant strides, is now among the most exciting micros in the land. The branding is new, the bottle-conditioning has been greatly refined, and somehow their beers just keep getting better. 

On the market – This was initially brewed to showcase the restoration of Grantham's principle landmark, but responses have been so positive things may be looking more long term. Contact the brewery for the latest on this.

On the whole – 8.5%

Full Review

In some ways, Oldershaw Brewery have spent the last few years spoiling their own party.

And my life.

The good news is that they've simultaneously been planning a much better party, and thereby giving people like me the chance to live much richer lives - in place of lives that were actually far less fulfilling than we'd ever realised.

Let me explain.

A few short years ago, a beer like today's beer would have shot straight to the top of my high score chart. After all, today's beer – for all it's contemporary use of multiple high citrus hops sourced from across the world – is essentially a beautifully balanced amber bitter.

Since those days, Oldershaw's glorious party-wrecking has got well under way, and this has come in the form of some extraordinarily dynamic and creative beer creations, which have quietly placed this small brewery right at the heart of the modern 'hop-concious' craft beer scene.

Basically, the beers which Oldershaw and certain others have been producing (such as Blonde Volupta, Regal Blonde and Alchemy) are possesive of so much which is dynamic, vibrant, complex, exciting and just plain old delicious – that after while they make all the old classics seem just a little bit dull.

Personally, I now find even a well kept pint of Pedigree to be somewhat underwhelming. That's rather like an Archbishop losing interest in the Bible.

But as surprising and distressing as this apathy towards established favourites is, the rewards derived from these new beers are numerous enough to more than compensate.

However, what the beer world has needed for a long time now, is for some of the most exciting breweries to take a fresh look at a beer style which has fallen out of favour during this recent period of creativity. Falling out of favour is bad enough, but far more significant in these PR concious times is the fact they've fallen out of fashion. Fashion has become a dominant force in the world of craft beer, and one beer style in particular has become its victim.

That beer style can loosely be described as 'amber bitter.'  Or 'the browns', as they are so often referred to by those who would have them disappear for good.

It's actually not rocket science. We've simply needed someone to step up and create a 'brown' which has a sense of it's own place in time. Less of a Gordon Brown, and more of a James, or an Ian, or even a Cleveland Brown.

For a good few years now, the beer world has been in urgent need of a 'cool' brown. And – slowly but surely – such creations are gradually beginning to emerge.

Breweries who care just a little bit more about beer than they do about new-media lead popularity contests are starting to sneak out some amber, bitter-style beers which are, in themselves, every bit aware of the recent developments in beer recipe creation and the huge changes in the wider public's preferences that these developments have inspired.

Admittedly, even with this new approach, these new browns still feel less abundantly and immediately attention-grabbing than the ultra-hopped golden beers or even the sumptuous new breed of 'roasty toasty' darks, but making a massive instantaneous impact is not the only purpose of beer, and I firmly believe that a permanent loss of this middle ground beer style will spell disaster for Planet Ale in the long term.

These beers have been the rock against which all the recent displays of flair and ingenuity have been tethered. Many 'browns' were the very inspiration for all of the magnificent creativity we've all benefited from over recent times. But the way in which the beer scene has turned against them – like teenagers turning on their devoted parents – has been pretty regrettable in my opinion, and the potential for their permanent disappearance is worrying to say the least.

And so, even though Oldershaw brew beers which are clearly more 'jaw-dropping' and 'mind bending' than this beer, I'm possibly more glad of it's arrival than I have been about any other title on their list.

'Summit' has zero sweetness, a dynamic and refreshing bitterness, with a subtle savoury biscuit/nut base, and it has been brewed by a company who stand at the forefront of the recent march away from boring brown beer.

This is exactly the kind of product that the market needs.

A distinctly modern beer for the traditionalists to savour, and for the fashion victims to be reminded that the world of beer is a lot less 'black and white' than they've recently been telling themselves.

Brown is the new black.

And it's tasting great. 

Craft Beer In Hollywood.

I came, I saw, I drank their beer.

Although, in actual fact, I didn't drink a lot of their beer, and that became a surprising source of frustration.

The truth is that the craft beer scene in Los Angeles - whilst evolving nicely - makes it somewhat difficult for you to get your hands (and, more significantly, your taste buds) on American-brewed craft beer.

How weird is that? 

I certainly wasn't expecting it.

Sure, most of the craft beer bars in this part of the world tend to dazzle you with huge selections of taps at any one time, (imagine The Euston Tap on various banned steroids) but I was staggered by the tendency to avoid home-brewed US creations (in my opinion, the most exciting beers in the world at this moment in history) in favour of the European beers which inspired them. A modest portion of these ales hail from the UK, and include titles I was appalled to find being showcased in this new mecca of the craft beer world. Old Speckled Hen and Boddingtons were literally everywhere, as were my tears after a few days.

However, in spite of this apparent institutional reticence to get 'out and proud' about just how excellent their own products are, most other aspects of the scene in LA, particularly in Hollywood where I happened to be based, are extremely positive.

There are three venues I ended up frequenting more than others, and I'm going to say a few things about each, but the final of these mentions is also effectively an appeal, because whilst I was over there this fabulous and much loved joint was forced to close down for reasons beyond its own control and it may never be able to open its doors ever again.

First up, however, is BoHo, which sits in the fairly shocking setting of the H&H complex on the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue (hence the acronymous name). The H&H is a self-knowingly mighty, ultra modern structure which would appear at first glance only to appeal to tourists or people who enjoy feeling a sense of their own comparative insignificance in relation to giant media-focussed corporations.

Sounds grim, right?

Well, the journey up to the second floor terrace - however harrowing - is worth it every time.

BoHo has an average of 25 working taps, a clearly constructed beer list with knowledgeable assistance freely available from the affable bar-staff, and a great 'taster rack' option (a fabulous concept not unique to this part of the world, but ubiquitous within it) where smaller measures of a selection of beers can be enjoyed before committing to a larger glass of your favourite among them. (Or simply ordering another rack!) BoHo even add the nice touch of serving each measure separately to ensure every one is tasted at optimum temperature.  

The décor is typically 'aiming at' a style based on a perception of 'European' reality, but that fails to make it tacky despite the fact that it absolutely should. The food - prepared with equal pride as the beer - is excellent, including the very best French-Fries I can ever recall indulging in. 

This is a first class venue, and the one to which I returned most often during my stay.

Second up is Stout - Burgers & Beers (more often known simply as 'Stout') which sits in a far more 'authentic' street setting along Cahuenga Boulevard in between Hollywood Boulevard and Selma Avenue. 

I found this place a little irritating every time I went, which was a big shame because so much about it is otherwise perfect and I really wanted to like it more. However, I'll deal with the positive aspects first because they really are very positive indeed.

I couldn't count the taps which jut out of every spare inch of the back wall of the curved bar area, but let's just say there are probably as many taps as there are states in the Union. (Okay, maybe a bit less, but there are plenty!)

Again, the foreign brews outnumbered the domestics, but the selection is large enough to keep you happy without Europeans having to 'go back home' during a session. (Isn't it odd how US and UK beers seem to be revered more by their opposite numbers than by themselves at the present time!) The bartenders are always responsive to a 'geek level' enquiry (partly as I sensed most punters at this place just want 'a beer' and are far more interested in those other items referred to in this venue's full name which, incidentally account for a greater overall chunk of the place's considerable local reputation.) 

The open air 'beach hut' feel to the joint is nice and the vibe among the punters is relaxed and unpretentious. 

My unassailable gripe was simply with the members staff who work on the 'room side' of the bar, who carry themselves around the place as though it were perfectly obvious that they are of far greater significance within the confines of this establishment than any visitor could ever be. I once saw one poor guy sat near me at the bar ask a passing waitress for a bowl of fries and, with a look of undisguised contempt, she informed him that any customer sat in his position needed to "speak with the bar tender about that". It's one of those places (actually pretty rare in LA, in my experience) where there is no attempt to hide the fact that certain people are only nice to you because of the possibility that you will eventually show your appreciation for such friendliness in the form of a tip. You can almost smell the sense of - "Why be nice to people sat at the bar when protocol dictates that the bartender will eventually be taking their money?"

Making things yet worse, was the staff's tendency to conduct their conversations with each other (about whatever was on the 'after-hours' agenda) across the room at whatever volume was necessary, even if it meant leaving menu-clutching punters open mouthed in the middle of placing their order whilst they waited for the chat to conclude. (Which, on one occasion I witnessed, was a moment that never actually came!...The waitress in question in this case continued a conversation with a colleague across the room - pad in hand with half of the customer's food order already written down - until the folks who were trying to complete that order eventually made a decision among themselves to get up and leave. A proactive measure which the waitress herself remained oblivious to until they were long departed.)

All of the beer at Stout left a great taste in my mouth.

Some of the staff at Stout left an ulcer in it.

This brings me nicely on to the third venue, a place where great beer, great food and great atmosphere was very much enhanced by concious and diligent employees. What this third venue has been let down by, however, is the small print in its own tenancy agreement.

The Blue Palms Brewhouse, situated (or at least it was until very recently) on Sunset Boulevard near Gower Avenue, quickly became a favourite with proper brew loving Los Angelinos, and it's sudden closure - on the very day after I first discovered it - is a cruel blow to the entire craft beer identity of the city. 

Totally unaware of the imminent downing of tools, I chose this place to watch the Superbowl (an event which I learned much about from a fellow punter - the generally malt-preferring Brian - who succeeded in revealing to me that American Football is actually pretty damn riveting once you know what the hell is going on!)

It was only after the game was nearing its conclusion that word began to pass through the bar that this was actually its last night of business for the foreseeable future. Details emerged that ownership of the larger 'parent' building next-door (a cinema) had changed hands, and that new owners had ideas of their own about best use of the site. New ideas which were unlikely to revolve around the serving and enjoying of immaculately kept craft beer.

The closest we could get to the truth that night was that the closure was "Temporary... hopefully!" (Three weeks later, there has been little subsequent change in that night's unsettling assessment, and fears of a permanent 'lights out' are growing ever stronger.)

This, then, was a really mixed night for me. The discovery of the (long hidden) joys of the NFL, and the simultaneous discovery of a genuinely outstanding bar, one which was about to be comprehensively undiscovered through no fault whatsoever of its own.

To mention a few things that made (make) the Palms special are the beer list itself  (a giant screen looming over the bar like an airport departure board and filled with more beers than you ever thought could coexist under one roof), the sheer quality of the beer which appears shortly after a choice from that screen has been made, the terrific staff members who assist you with that choice and bring the chosen beer to you, and the relaxed but comfortable feel of the place in which you sit back and drink it. 

Those marvellous staff members, by the way, deserve far better in my opinion than to be left in limbo like there appear to have been. 

As well as the enormous choice on the screen, there is a separate Bottled Beer menu (pictured below, among a few other shots of this venue), and the fiendish lure of this particular list was one which I manifestly failed to resist. (Those of you who know this website will have guessed that I didn't actually attempt to resist it at all. Not one little bit.) 


So, all in, the loss of The Blue Palms is one which should absolutely be prevented if at all possible. I can only think to suggest to beer lovers across the world - who view any closures of such places as a seriously bad thing - that they 'tweet' their support to the staff themselves via this link or give a shout out on their own website here, in the hope that a large enough show of support might tip the balance in their favour.

Overall, there are a fair number of other fine craft beer joints in the Hollywood area of LA (Mowhawk Bend also comes highly recommended), and although this city still lags behind many other US destinations in this regard, it is certainly way ahead in a great many others, and the sooner this famous town has as many such bars as it merits the better. In the meantime I'd say it needs to fight as hard as it can to keep the excellent ones it already has.

It would be a bad time for LA to start losing what has become some very healthy momentum. 

----

(Here's a badly shot visual flavour of The Blue Palms, including my bottle of Avery Brewing Co's anniversary brew 'Seventeen' - a very decent dry hopped black IPA. Oily, 'roasty', hopped with restraint, and with an alcohol content which must have been deviously concealed by Darth Avery himself, assuming such a malevolent figure exists.)

Yes, I know, the Avery has a big head. 

It was the Superbowl! 

It's hard to pour beer in that kind of atmosphere!

Day 144, Beer 144 - Einstöck's "Icelandic Pale Ale"

Today's Beer

Name – Icelandic Pale Ale

Brewer – Einstöck

Classification – Pale ale

Strength – 5.6% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Deep, rich orange amber. Not even remotely bad looking.

On the nose – Sharp fruits. Tree bark. Honey roasted blind rage.

On the tongue – Robust, punchy, vividly flavoured. A weapon of Norse destruction.

On the subject – There's one almighty, jaw dropping fact to mention here. It's a fact of too great a scale to reduce into a quick soundbite. You're going to have to read on...

On the market – In terms of the UK, the lucky so-and-so's at Harvey Nichols have exclusive sales rights for the time being. I call upon war-axe wielding warriors everywhere to rise up in revolt against this travesty! Failing that, I suggest they speak to their local MP.

On the whole – 8/10

Full Review

It seems hard to believe, but my sources tell me that beer was effectively outlawed in Iceland for 74 years up until 1989.

Just writing that sentence has given me the shakes.

In fact, hold on a second, I need to take a few breaths...

Maybe just lie down here for a while...

(Several hours pass)

I feel a little better now.

The feeling in my legs has returned and I'm seeing far fewer stars.

I guess I can press ahead again...

So...

One of the ways in which these poor Icelandic citizens try to compensate for that hideous mass of stolen years is by having a national 'Beer Day' on the first day of March each year, which is arguably a concept every bit as sublime as that previous concept is shocking.

Perhaps due in part to this extended period of state organised torture, I can say with a reasonable amount of certainty that today's beer is the first Icelandic ale I've ever tasted.

And for a country who missed out on decades worth of practice, they appear not to have suffered in the slightest – because this is a very decent beer indeed.

The reality is that 'craft' beer, as such, isn't exactly massive in Iceland. It's there, but it can take some finding. A fair amount of 'big' beer brands exist, but Einstöck – the newest kids on the ice block – are almost entirely unique among their peers, having decided to be the first in the country to attempt to mix 'big' with 'craft'.

And on this evidence, this approach is working.

The Viking imagery on the brewery logo is matched here by unbridled bullish strength – both in terms of taste and sheer alcoholic punch – but there is also a notable sense of refinement at work here, not least in the slick smoothness of body and the delicate use of certain fruit and herbal flavours.

I suspect the thing I like most about this beer is the thing that others might classify as its drawback. There is a directness or even a brutishness to this beer, and to achieve this kind of an impact it stands to reason that a certain level of nuance and complexity is reduced. But that's the point of such beers, and I think we need beers like this. We need Vikings among the Romans and the Greeks, otherwise we'd all be taking long baths, sculpting and engaging in endless philosophical debates without ever getting anything done.

But don't misunderstand. This ale is no thug. What this beer does is done with great enthusiasm – but also with great skill. The weapon it attacks you with has been well crafted. The recipe, whilst not being overly intricate, is delicious. It's fruity, bitter, carefully malted, and it's just impossible to drink without having it forcefully grab your attention.

It's one of those beers that gets the job done first and negotiates later.

And I like a bit of that every now and again.

I certainly liked it this time.

Day 143, Beer 143 - Otley Brewing Company's "O-Garden"

Today's Beer

Name – O-Garden

Brewer – Otley

Classification – Wheat beer

Strength – 4.8% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Lemon gold, surprising clarity. A notably good looking beer.

On the nose – Apple, incense, Sauvignon Blanc, brandy. Pretty special.

On the tongue – Contains possibly every flavour in existence that I happen not to like. (Read on...)

On the subject – This highly respected Welsh brewery produce one of the most exciting beer ranges in Britain. Today's beer itself was crowned 'Champion Speciality Beer Of Britain' in 2008. I felt strongly compelled to say these things before continuing. I also feel inclined to remind my readers of the widely excepted notion that 'you can't please all of the people all of the time'. I think you can probably guess what's coming...

On the market – Otley's beers are almost guaranteed to be found at specialist beer retailers, and the supermarkets are now joining in too, which was always fairly inevitable. For home delivery, try the brewery's own online store.

On the whole – 6.5/10

Full Review

I suspect our wonderful world would be far less wonderful if every drinker loved every beer.

Sure, we would have the advantage of never experiencing a bad beer, or a good beer we just didn't like – but we'd also lose the concept of favourite beers, and beers that burst into our lives and sweep us off our feet.

What I'm saying is, we all have different tastes and, by and large, that's a good thing.

Personally, I can get a kick out of almost any kind of beer, and whenever I'm in two minds about one particular brew, I always try to find ways to enjoy what's in front of me, as opposed to grabbing at chances to criticise it.

Old world, new wave, dark, light, strong, delicate, sweet, bitter – I can hold traditional browns, contemporary golds and experimental darks in an equally firm embrace.

But sometimes, I don't know, I just hit a wall.

There sometimes comes a point where no feature of an ale holds an appeal, and you find yourself at the mercy of your own personal preferences.

In truth, Otley's O-Garden is the victim of rotten bad luck in the context of The Bottled Beer Year.

Simply put, this is a beer whose every flavour characteristic just happens to be one I don't especially like. And given there are so few things that I actively turn my nose up at - that really is highly unlucky.

Firstly, it's a wheat beer. My occasional allergic reactions to these ales makes me wary of them from the off, and the only reason I drink them at all is to be able to include this important beer style on my list. (What a martyr I am!) Secondly, the spices used in this beer include cloves and coriander. As far as my taste buds are concerned, this is just a monumentally unfortunate combo. Poor drink. I could almost weep for it.

Then there is the 'salt' issue. This moves us onto 'genuine tragedy' territory because salt is one of my absolute favourite things on Earth, but to my taste the sense of saltiness here is actually overdone. For a man who regularly induces gasps from fellow diners when adding table salt to his meals – this is a pretty big deal. Actually, I would never have thought a beer could be too salty until today.

Furthermore, the herbal/spicy notes serve to create a distinctly medicinal feel. 'Medicinal' is a descriptive term which I tend to avoid wherever possible, because I know I find it off-putting when I read that word myself – even though I realise it's a perfectly acceptable characteristic for many drinkers. It just makes me think of illness, hospitals and NHS bleach. But, oh my goodness, there's just no avoiding that word here. This beer contains definite (and quite deliberate) medicinal flavour elements. Many beer drinkers would welcome these elements – I am not among them.

Ginger lurks here too (at least on the tongue, if not on the ingredients list) along with sharp orange peel, some metallic twangs, and a whole bunch of barely ripened fruits.

It's a 'piney' affair. As in Scots Pine. At times, it's almost like drinking the Brechfa Forest. Again, this is something that might work for some, but in amongst all the other stuff I instinctively dislike, it did little to win me over.

Perhaps this is a good time to add that my unofficial sidekick (my globe-stoppingly attractive girlfriend) absolutely adored this ale, so much so that she eventually took the Dickensian step of asking for 'more'. (A most irregular request under normal circumstances – punishable by stern glance and prolonged silence. In this case, however, the workhouse rules were relaxed completely after I permitted her to take repeated further mouthfuls of whatever size she desired.)

The name 'O-Garden' – one can't help but assume – is a play on 'Hoegaarden' – but this is a very different beast, regardless of how similar any ingredients or processes may be. Wheat, coriander and orange peel are all used in both drinks, with almost no discernible similarities resulting from this fact.

Look, I just have to be honest here.

I didn't like it.

The otherwise invulnerable Otley have brewed at least one beer that I simply could not enjoy.

And that's okay. 

It is a perfectly acceptable state of affairs in a wonderful world like ours, which remains as widely diverse today as it ever was before.

My girlfriend's Oliver Twist beer-acquisition tactics are proof enough of that.

The Icemen Cometh!

I received an email the other day from a company who are about to launch a new range of craft beers in the UK, and being the sort of guy who is instinctively hostile toward such an approach - I wrote back immediately telling them in no uncertain terms that they could jolly well send me as many samples as they liked.

And here they are.

Iceland's Einstöck Brewery seems to be the result of a global search for the world's purest water source, and if the PR machine is actually telling us the truth with this (which they can actually do on rare occasions) then these look like being a very interesting couple of ales.

They are (from left to right) -

Icelandic Toasted Porter - (6.0% ABV)

Icelandic Pale Ale - (5.4% ABV)

Availability looks like being tight initially, with Harvey Nichols scoring an exclusive deal for the time being, but from what I recall, Harvey Nichols have a nasty habit of stocking only the finest products.

I can't wait to see if that theory holds weight.

Stay tuned for the reviews.

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Day 142, Beer 142 - J.W. Lees & Marco Pierre White's "The Governor"

Today's Beer

Name – The Governor

Brewer – J.W. Lees with Marco Pierre White

Classification – 'All malt' beer/Bitter

Strength – 4.1% ABV

Verdict - At A Glance

On the eye – Rich, vivid amber.

On the nose – Buttery nuts and lemon zest.

On the tongue – A tale in itself. Possibly the most courageous beer in history... (read on)

On the subject – Manchester based J.W. Lees are one of northern England's most established and most esteemed breweries. This team-up with Marco Pierre White (one of northern England's most established and most esteemed chefs) makes perfect sense on almost every level.

On the market – The Morrison's chain leapt on this one early, but for those without the inclination to leave the house can try the brewery's own online store.

On the whole – 8.5/10

Full Review

Okay, so this is the highly regarded J.W. Lees brewery in collaboration with one of modern cuisine's most celebrated maestros Marco Pierre White.

Basically, what I'm saying here, is that it's hard not to have some very specific expectations growing in your mind when you sit down to review a product such as this. It's so easy to fall into the trap of anticipating something ultra-this or hyper-that which will fly at you with all kinds of bells, whistles and la-di-dah.

Try as I might not to fall victim to this trap, there's no question that I did – and as a consequence, the lid on this bottle was opened with the very same kind of excitement that the younger version of myself would have opened a parcel at Christmas.

But I have to say that things didn't quite turn out as I'd expected.

In fact, by the time I'd taken my first two sips, I was left wearing a similar expression to the one I wore on Christmas Day 1983 when I learned that my biggest present was a giant framed poster of E.T. and not a small snooker table.

Not exactly disappointed, but not exactly blown away.

This beer's initial impact was so remarkably understated, that in those first few moments I could even have claimed that I found it 'lacking'.

There was certainly nothing wrong with it, and the essential 'feel' of the drink was exactly as you would expect from a brewery of such standing. But where was Marco Pierre White? Where were all those years of attention to flavour detail, the diligent assemblage and construction of themes, and the playful interaction of one nuance pitted against another?

Where was the signature of a great artist?

Simply put, I was somewhat bemused. But finding myself convinced that this couldn't be the full story, I downed tools (I put my pen down) and I just sat with the drink for a while – in exactly the way I would have done if beer reviews were not a part of my life.

And, it soon transpired that both the beer and I were greatly appreciative of this unscheduled tea break, because what should begin to emerge after a few extra sips...?

Nothing less than the scrawled, flamboyant autograph of a truly great artist.

What began to dawn on me during these further sips, was that this beer had been subtly tinkering with the workings of my mind. Instead of allowing me to dictate the circumstances surrounding this taste test, the beer itself had taken charge. We were going to do this it's way – not mine – and in the first instance, this required me to kick back and take some proper time.

This beer is not a drink which sets out to bedazzle you upon first contact. In fact, it has no interest whatsoever in tickling your fancy or providing a quick thrill. This beer is in it for the long haul, and it wants to be your friend for life.

By the time I was just over halfway through, I looked back at the bottle and reminded myself of the relatively benign 4.1% ABV, and suddenly the whole thing made sense. I could go on drinking this beer not just all evening, but pretty much forever more.

It plays the long game, skilfully giving you just the right amount of each of its characteristics to maximise the enjoyment of a series of glasses – instead of sweeping you off your feet in an instant, only to become irksome or overwhelming shortly afterwards. (A problem which a great many contemporary 'impact beers' have in spades.)

For a new beer to have the confidence to take this slow burn approach is seriously impressive. Though, I gather 'confidence' is not something Mr White is massively short of, so perhaps it should come as little surprise.

Nutty, lightly fruited by pear, peach and apple, with some lovely sponge cake and caramel undertones, this is a light-bodied, refreshing beer which I simply cannot imagine myself ever tiring of.

I can think of very few beers that I could so confidently make such a claim about.

Some beers are for life, not just for Christmas.

This is one of them.

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We've All Been Badgered!

Last week, the beady-eyed Pub Curmudgeon spotted that Badger Brewery had harnessed the power to rewrite history.

Many of you will know the (now famous) story behind the naming of their widely admired beer 'Tangle Foot'.

Basically, the label told us that the head brewer stumbled slightly at the end of a tasting session, having succumbed somewhat to the inevitable effects of several mouthfuls of beer.

But let's be absolutely clear here.

This was beer which he was obliged to taste in significant amounts in order to properly assess the quality and character of a product which he was chiefly responsible for.

Simply put - he was doing his job.

A vital part of his job.

We wouldn't want to hear that the head brewer of a highly renowned company had merely sipped the drink before approving it and shipping it out across the world. We want to be sure that he has sat with at least a couple of back to back glasses to fully gauge how the drink's appeal changes over a period of time.

I would never review a beer that I'd merely sniffed, and I wouldn't expect the senior person in the brewhouse to do anything similar.

But it seems that Badger have recently developed a sense of shame about this story.

Because they've changed it.

Recently modified Tangle Foot labels tell us that the head brewer did not in fact stumble due to the effects of alcohol - but that he actually tripped on his dog's lead.

I just laughed out loud when typing that last sentence.

Dog?

Lead?

What in the name of God are they talking about?

So many questions are triggered by this - but before you take a look at the two labels (shown below) - here are the questions I'd most like to focus on...

Were those original labels factually incorrect, meaning the new one's are merely setting the record straight?

Or - has the new version merely been altered to suit some present day politically correct agenda?

And if that is so - does this mean that the job of a head brewer is no longer politically correct? Should all head brewers now feel ashamed about carrying out certain aspects of their vital jobs?

Finally, could it just be that both stories are utter nonsense, in which case why not just drop the entire 'tale' and re-brand the beer properly, instead of quietly changing supposed 'facts' hoping nobody notices?

If nobody noticed, it would mean nobody cared in the first place. But many people did care, and those people are now feeling pretty foolish for believing this historical account for all these years.

As I've already said in the comments section over in the Pub Curmudgeon's article, I've absolutely had it with Badger until they either rectify this or explain it. My ardent Badger boycott started last week and it continues.

But now, for your perusal, here is the damning evidence courtesy of my local ASDA - who continue to stock old branded cans and new branded bottles side by side, along with their old and new versions of the truth... (click on the pictures to expand - or find full transcripts at the original Curmudgeon page here)

You're either laughing or crying by now.

If you're crying - or perhaps just feeling a little bit insulted - do feel free to join me in a spot of gentle boycotting.

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