Curry source

For my evening curry I thought I pick up another couple of bottles of cheap Asahi from the supermarket. There was none left when I got there, however (demonstrating the efficacy of our new restrictive off licence laws), so I plumped for a lager I'd not had in ages and never reviewed here: the legend that is Pilsner Urquell.

The original beer from Plzeň, an SABMiller brand these days, pours as golden and as fizzy as one might expect. Those very Czech hops stand up well against the hot and sour vindaloo sauce -- the sharp bitterness cutting through the spice with each mouthful. After eating it's even better, refreshing and cleansing the palate. Sitting over it a bit longer, a funny thing happens: as it warms, the malt comes out in the flavour profile. Of course, this sort of beer is meant to be served cold, but at temperatures approaching cellar, and beyond, it offers a wonderfully balanced experience, with the sweet porridgey grains enhanced with the Saaz sharpness.

Pilsner Urquell is a beer worth savouring and I'm glad there was no Asahi.

Get up the yard

Dubbel, of Young CAMRA Collectiv fame, noted recently the preponderance of beer festivals around the UK August Bank Holiday. I certainly did my bit, heading north on Saturday to Hilden, for the second year, to attend the annual bash in the brewery yard there. We didn't get as good weather as last year. In fact, it pissed down for most of the afternoon, but I got in early and managed to stake my claim on a bit of prime dry real estate under one of the gazebos, making sorties into the brewhouse bar nearby as necessary.

The selection, as usual, came from a variety of breweries in England, Northern Ireland and the Republic, and the Irish industry was particularly well-represented this year. On arrival I decided that what we were experiencing was very much porter weather, and fortunately Messrs Maguire Porter was on tap. I started with this one, having previously enjoyed it during the brief period it was available in bottles. It's not a beer to blow socks off, but a well-constructed easy-going affair, with the characteristic black malt charcoal dryness. The texture from the cask edition is a massive improvement on the bottled version, being superbly rich and creamy. All-in-all a good start.

Golden ales featured heavily at the festival, as they did last year. I started with Everard's Tiger and really shouldn't have bothered. This reeks of a mildly-bleached brewery floor and follows it with yet more bleach in the taste and absolutely nothing else. Something must have gone wrong here.

Two beers from Ossett in Yorkshire followed: Silver King is a very pale and rather dry ale with just a teensy hint of summer fruits in it. Quite dull, really. Beijing Gold is shade or two darker with an interesting flavour I couldn't quite put my finger on. Fortunately, I had the CEO, Brewmaster and Chief Taster of the up-and-coming Clanconnel Brewery to hand (hi Mark), and he had no problem identifying it as Chinese five-spice, and aniseed in particular. It was certainly interesting, and very tasty. Keep an eye out for Clanconnel's Weavers' Gold coming your way in the autumn, by the way.

Abbeydale were out in force again, and Larceny was the beer I tried: it's a rather lagery affair with a nice refreshing sharpness but not a whole lot else. Titanic was another return visitor, but the beers really weren't up to the standard of last year: White Star is a creamy pale yellow ale with an unfortunate gastric acid harshness. Lifeboat is a darker amber and was served rather cloudy and loaded with yeasty flavours. Oh dear. I couldn't detect much behind this so I doubt I missed anything special through lack of condition.

Two golden ales really stood out for me on the day. The first was Elsie Mo from Castle Rock, served under a pump clip that would have Alcohol Concern tutting into their soda waters. It's light and easy-going, perfumed with breezy peach blossom flavours. But the standout was one which has seen its share of plaudits in recent years: Crouch Vale's Brewer's Gold -- CAMRA's supreme champion two years running. It's a very pale shade of yellow, gently hopped against a subtle graininess, creating a delicious sherbet-like flavour. Another light and approachable quaffing beer full of understated class and quality.

Before catching my train home, I finished with a couple more local beers. Hilden Halt was a new one for me -- their strong dark red ale. I suspect this wasn't in great condition, being cloudier than I expected, but I still enjoyed it. The malt is running the show and imparts a delicious chocolately flavour of the sort I most associate with Clotworthy Dobbin. Halt has more of a fruit character to it as well, however. Rich, filling, and just the thing as we head into autumn. My beer of the festival was another one produced on-site: a new "wheat ale" called Barney's Brew. Frances from the brewery told me that it follows, to some extent, the recipe for the legendary Belfast Bap, and is named in honor of its inventor Barney Hughes. With the sparkler screwed off (see right) it's a nearly-headless golden-amber beer with an amazing spiciness that just catches the back of the throat and then warms all the way down. I'm reminded of the late lamented Maeve's from Dublin Brewing Company, and reckon this would work similarly well as an accompaniment to curry. How do you make wheat do this, and why aren't more people doing it?

I had time for one last beer before hitting the road, and made it a pint of O'Hara's Stout -- a favourite everyday beer of mine and one I'd never tried on cask where, it turns out, it's rounder, roastier, chocolatier and generally so much of an improvement on the pasteurised bottled version (speaking not of the nitrokeg abomination).

A final note of thanks to Frances for arranging a couple of beers on the house for ICB members attending. Overall, I found 160km to be a very small distance to travel to experience this kind of quality.

Like malta, from Malta

At a homebrew tasting in the pub last night one of the guys (hi Kevin) brought out a beer he'd picked up in Malta, a milk stout rejoicing in the name of Lacto. It's my second milk stout in the last week, and ever.

There's even less to it than there is to the Left Hand. Again with the smooth milky texture, but basically no stouty roastiness: just a very sweet condensed-milk or Caramac flavour. What it reminded me most of was the malta soft drink I had in Cuba back in May -- just as easy drinking and, at 3.8% ABV, only a smidge more alcohol. It could pass for a lot weaker too.

I've never been to Malta, but it's somewhere I would like to visit (one of Mrs Beer Nut's distant relatives was shot down over it during the siege). I'm guessing that, faced with the the usual dull hot country lagers, Lacto is probably welcome relief when drinking Maltese beers. At a table in one of the best-stocked pubs in the country, however, it loses its special status quite quickly. Nevertheless, thanks Kevin, even if you only brought it to make your all-grain stout look good...

Dutch gold

I left you on a Saturday evening in Amsterdam and I was heading out for 't Arendsnest. Now, Amsterdam has more than its fair share of lovely pubs with great beer lists, but this upstairs bar on Herengracht is my new favourite. Rather than a primarily-Belgian beer list, everything here is Dutch. There's pretty much the full range, from bottles of Grolsch and Bavaria all the way up to whatever's currently good from De Prael or De Molen.

It was with the latter I started: Menno's Rasputin imperial stout. The super-smooth creamy texture is the first thing that struck me here. It makes it very easy to drink, despite the big sticky malty flavours and an intense bitterness totally unlike the acidic hopping of American versions of the style. Herself opted for one that Wildeman had been out of on Thursday: the delightfully-named Skuumkoppe by Texelse. I found this orange wheatbeer quite vapid and dull. It starts with a big sugary flavour but follows it with absolutely nothing. It's always a tragedy when the name provides more entertainment than the beer.

Of necessity, dinner was next, then straight back to the pub. My next was another Dutch stout: Van Vollenhoven Extra. You can read more about the history of this one, and how lucky I was to get hold of it, here. Under the fluffy white head is an easy-going beer with the emphasis on sweet maltiness and perhaps a touch of saccharine. Even though it's a full 7% it tastes much lighter. Simple yet satisfying.

We couldn't leave without trying the house beer, Herengracht 90 Blond. Expecting something plain and made on the cheap -- often the way with contract-brewed house beers -- what poured forth was a spicy, floral, blossomy cloudy orange beer, much more reminiscent of a saison than your bog-standard blonde ale.

It was heart-breaking to have to call it a night, but 't Arendsnest has given me a new reason to visit Amsterdam and I will be back at the next opportunity. The main reason I have for visiting Amsterdam is the beer shopping, and before bed I fitted in another couple from the Cracked Kettle. The proprietor said he was having trouble shifting Mikkeller Jackie Brown, which surprised me. My bottle had just passed its expiry date, but it was still a pretty good beer. Highly complex, it starts with a sweet café crème nose but follows with a surprisingly bitter yeasty flavour before the roasted coffee kicks in leading to a very slight sweetness on the outside edge. Phew. All this happens on a soft velvety mouthfeel which makes it less work to drink than to write about. Shame on you, Cracked Kettle customers.

Last beer of the evening was the final American of the trip, and one which seems to be on special offer all over Amsterdam: Left Hand Milk Stout. I have a certain fondness for this beer. There's really not much to it, but what's there is enjoyable: a slick milky texture, a tiny touch of bitter coffee and we're done. Better not to have a thought-provoking beer at bedtime, right?

After a bit of proper tourism (something we do occasionally, believe it or not) Sunday's drinking started in De Beiaard again. In random pinstick mode, I went for Deugniet, a strong, pale blond ale with a slightly sharp dry greenness to it -- like celery, observed Mrs Beer Nut. I quite liked it, being somewhere between a spicy blonde ale and a low-key tripel. Meanwhile, m'lady was on Dikke Mathile, choosing once more on the silly name factor. This has orange blossom on the nose and a marvellous tannic quality, similar to some of my favourite English bitters, though stronger and sweeter.

We were on our way to Ron's place where we had an invitation to share some of the goodies in his cellar. That's not the kind of invitation one turns down. So, bearing a handful of bottles of decent Irish stout (but no vodka), we arrived in to meet Ron, Dolores and the real stars of Ron's blog, Andrew and Lexie. Among the delights produced from the bowels of Patto Mansions was a tiny nip bottle of Courage Russian Imperial Stout, bottled in 1992. Fascinating it was too -- under a vinous, almost vinegary, nose, there's triple-espresso thick roasted coffee notes. A very civilised after-dinner sipping beer.

Andrew accompanied us to the local boozer, where La Chouffe and jenever were the order of the evening. I did take a bit of ticking time to try Brigand -- yet another strong blonde and one I quite enjoyed, being easy-going, smooth and fruity.

And so, clutching a couple of bottles of Ron's Whitbread recreations, we took our leave. Slightly pissed, it has to be said. And that was nearly it for the trip, though Ron's influence didn't end after we escaped his clutches. Intrigued by his review of Café Krom, we made a point of checking it out before leaving for Schiphol. There in the art deco splendour my last new beer was a Grolsch Oud Bruin. Unfortunately I still haven't found one of these to beat Heineken's. Grolsch's is rather bland. None of the unpleasant big saccharine notes of some oud bruins, but not a whole lot else, sadly.

Final stop before the airport train was De Bierkoning for a last couple of beery bits and pieces, and that was our lot. Thanks again for your very generous hospitality, Ron.

Roll on Copenhagen...

More Dutch courage

First beer of the evening, back in Amsterdam yesterday, was a bottle of Parlus Magnificum from the Urthel range. This is dubbel-like in flavour and taste with a plummy aroma and sharp yeasty fruitiness on the palate. Not the most flavoursome brown Belgian I've ever met. I was, however, much more impressed by the Steenbrugge Dubbel which I had down at De Beiaard at the bottom of Spuistraat. Here there's a sharp and spicy fruitcake character hitting all the right notes for a tasty dubbel. Again, a bit more of everything would improve things, however I suspect I may be on an eternal quest to find a dubbel to beat Westmalle and have unreasonably high expectations of it happening.

De Beiaard owns the Bekeerde Suster brewpub elsewhere in the city which I visited last year. The microbrews are therefore available elsewhere in the chain, and one I hadn't seen before was De Manke Monnik -- so that'll be one manky monk for the wife, please. It claims to be a tripel, but the estery citric notes it displays has me thinking much more of a German weiss, albeit one of the sharper, more highly hopped variety. The spice of a tripel is there, but at 7.2% ABV it's a bit of a lightweight. Tasty, though.

Two nightcaps brought yesterday to a close: first up was an Einbacker Urbock Dunkel: a limpid amber beer, sweet with a touch of caramel and a mildly bitter smoky flavour. Definitely better than the Hell from the same brewery. Ramping up the sweetness and strength I finished with a dark, sticky Weihenstephan Korbinian -- a sticky treacle-laden 7.4% ABV sipping dunkel. A great end-of-day beer.

Today's beering began at yet another branch of De Beiaard, down in De Pijp. We'd been walking in the sunshine for an hour or so, so refreshment was a priority. I went for the beer of the month: a 3.1% ABV fruit number called Apple Bocq. It was tastier than I expected: tart and juicy and just what I was after. Mrs Beer Nut ordered a Liefmans Frambozen: not too fruity, heavy and dry, and decidedly quenching. Thus fortified we headed back into the streets again.

The last piece of business this afternoon was a raid on the Cracked Kettle. I'm currently enjoying one of the spoils from that: a superbly bitter oude gueuze called Oud Beersel. Sharp, refreshing and just what I need as I cool off. As the bottom of my glass approaches I can hear the call of 't Arendsnest. See you later.

Dam'd if you do

We arrived in Amsterdam early yesterday evening and, having checked in at our lodgings, made a straight for In De Wildeman, a legendary beer pub and just a couple of streets away. We settled in the redundant non-smoking room (all Dutch pubs are entirely smoke free since last month) among the very mid-twentieth-century green painted wood.

A quick scan of the menu, the specials board, and the taps and my first order was a Yeti, the 9.2% ABV imperial stout from Colorado's Great Divide brewery. In typically Dutch style, 25cl was poured quickly into a glass leaving a huge expanse of dark brown head. The aroma sings of big American hops conspiring with dark smoky malts, all begging to be tasted. The flavour doesn't disappoint, with the hops sitting right at the front and then followed by a big long sweet dark crème caramel finish. The mouthfeel is incredibly thick with only the fainest hint of sparkle. The whole sensation is one of rapid see-sawing between big American hops and dark stouty malt, and one I enjoyed hugely.

Meanwhile, Mrs Beer Nut also started with an American: Left Hand's Juju Ginger Ale. It's an uninspiring and rather watery affair without much going on, either flavour- or aroma-wise.

So, what do I follow my powerhouse American imperial stout with? There was really only one thing for it...

Berliner Kindl Weisse Grün, is the version of Berlin's trademark wheat beer flavoured with a dash of woodruff syrup. I loved this beer from the start. It instantly hit the part of my brain that enjoys Faro and similar light sweet-sour Belgian fizz. It's sweet, light and (for me) inhalable. The sour/dry smack on top of the syrup makes it extremely moreish: I could lash through gallons of this 3%-er without even thinking about it. I'm only on my second beer and I think I've made the discovery of the trip.

Mrs Beer Nut decided to go Dutch and went for a Natte from local brewery 't IJ. Except I don't think that's what arrived. I was expecting a brown dubbel, but instead got a distinctly orange and cloudy beer with a gunpowder spice nose and a whole green-grocer's full of raw crunchy vegetal bitterness, moderated only slightly with a black pepper sharpness. I'm fairly sure they brought her the tripel Zatte instead. Either way, it was bloody good.

And with that we were off into the night to forage for some food after which we brought the day to a close. This morning we left bright and early for Alkmaar to see its legendary cheese market (jealous?) and the wonderfully quirky beer museum. Down the stairs and there's a pub at canal-level.

I continued the Dutch theme with another 't IJ beer: Columbus. This is a powerfully earthy opaque orange beer with more than a touch of Brettanomyces about it. The aroma is super-sour and the flavour includes the faintest wisp of orange pith under big heavy damp horse blankets. Meanwhile, Mrs Beer Nut wanted something light and refreshing, it being a warm sunny day (a what?!) and all. Randomly I suggested Wittekerke Rosé, and perhaps I shouldn't have. I rather liked it: it's 10% raspberry juice and tastes it, with just a bit of wheaty fluffiness underneath. Herself wasn't so keen, but them's the breaks when you let men choose your beer for you.

Second round, I stayed with 't IJ again and had a Struis -- another orangey-brown gunpowder-laden spicy ale. There's a touch of mango and passionfruit before the lees go in, and this is accentuated and added to with the gunk in: more gunpowder and a nice snappy hoppiness. A complex sipper that's end-to-end enjoyable.

Mrs Beer Nut indulged her bock habit, slumming it with Brand Imperator, a pale amber one from one of the Netherlands' nastier big industrial breweries. As expected it's quite an easy-going beer, light on the caramel and replacing it with a breezy fruitiness, making it a sunny afternoon sort of bock, which was just as well.

We spent the rest of the afternoon dawdling through Alkmaar, and got the train back to Amsterdam. 24 hours into the trip and already well ahead in the beer stakes.

"Kurva! Not him again!"

The beer menu in the Czech Inn rarely bears any resemblance to what's written -- often in biro -- on the keg fonts. Having ordered my lunch today I took a good long look at the menu and then the bar taps, supervised by the very patient barman who was single-handedly running the daytime shift in this very evening-orientated pub.

Between the Radegast and Staropramen, I spotted one I hadn't seen on previous visits, nor on the menu. "Pepinova Destika? What's that then?"
"It's a new Czech lager," came the reply. Good enough.
"I'll have one of those please."

It certainly looked the part when it was brought to my table: pure gold with a gorgeous fluffy topping of froth. In a proper Czech mug it would have looked even better, but never mind. There's a nice sparkle to it, accentuating the pilsner hops sharpness. The dominant flavour, though, is a kind of candy floss super sweetness. It's not a heavy, malty sweetness, nor any way cloying, but much much lighter. This sugary quality in no way detracts from what is, in essence, a no-frills drinking lager. Fluffy, but definitely not frilly.

Put with a plate of tender beef goulash made with a generous hand on the paprika plus a few inch-thick slices of knedlíky and you've got half an hour of unfussy pleasure.

Everything you see on TV is fake

Especially me. Oz Clarke and James May were in the Bull & Castle last night filming a couple of sequences for their upcoming TV show on beer. (They've been previously sighted on the beer blogosphere here and here.) The bit involved them having decided that mass-market beer in Ireland is generally rubbish (well spotted) and turning to the nation's home brewers for something decent. The brewers present their beers to them one at a time and they pick a winner. Of course, not all of us at ICB make beer, and several people brought extra beers along, so the line-up was padded out with some fake home brewers, including me. The proprietor of Black Cat Brewery is over at the GBBF at the moment so gave me his fine Centennial Ale to present to the guys. My pitch won them over and this is the one they picked. I'm told, and well believe, that Laura's Jump Up, Hop Back IPA was their favourite on taste alone, but evidently my superior skill at talking to a camera about things I know nothing about counts for more in TV land.

I was talking to Oz afterwards. That man knows a startling amount about beer. The show, due to air in either October or January, looks to be brilliant ("Basically it's about how it's OK to get a bit pissed and enjoy yourself" -- James May). Look out for me in episode four and don't believe a word that anyone on TV says.

Leaving the glamorous media life behind, I'll finish my run-down of the Great British Beer Festival which I attended last Tuesday. Readers from the Society for the Protection of the Beer Nut's Liver will be pleased to note that I don't have many more beers to mention. Apart from the Clotworthy Dobbin I got from the Northern Ireland bar, I only had two thirds of a pint from the main regional bars of the festival.

The brewer from Moor had paid a brief visit to our table so, in the absence of any other decision-making mechanism, it was his Peat Porter I went for. I was hoping I'd get something like Wickwar's Station Porter which I enjoyed recently and which (far less importantly) had just picked up third prize in the Champion Beer of Britain competition. There's a great balance to this beer: a dry and roasty porterishness next to a sweet alcoholic scotch maltiness. Not a whole lot of smokiness to it, but I still approve.

My last festival offering is Finn's Hall Porter, from the Beowulf brewery in Staffordshire: I'd reached that stage of festival-going where I'm picking beers based solely on the cool names. There's a very pleasant bitter damson-like quality to this one, backed up by more of that porter dryness, this time with coffee overtones. Another quality black session beer: more of this kind of thing closer to home please.

Having been drinking and blathering for over six hours, it was time to pack up my festival glass and head back to Heathrow. Last time I was through I rejoiced at being spared the unpleasantness of the landside Wetherspoons due to Heathrow's revised security arrangements. So, having first made sure there was nothing of interest in the landside bar, I went through to the main departure lounge of the terminal, and the much-more-civilised Tin Goose where Adnams Bitter was on tap. A deliciously sessionable sweet pint, this one, with lots of fruit and an interesting sulphurous note I've come to associate with Adnams beers. A decent, unchallenging pint to finish with before heading back to the land of mostly-crap beer. I'll definitely be stopping at the Tin Goose next time I'm through Heathrow, though I may be moving up to the first class lounge now that I'm that bloke off the telly.

Just so long as no-one discovers I'm a fraud...

Bières Avec Frontières

"I didn't come to England to drink foreign beer" is my normal attitude to, er, going to England, and it's one I heard from Merideth (all the way from California) standing chatting by the Bières Sans Frontières bar at the Great British Beer Festival on Tuesday. However, the range of cask-conditioned American and continental rarities on offer meant I was making an exception this time round. Well, nearly.

A lot of the stuff I was interested in was in the upper ranges of beer ABVs, so I thought I'd take it easy to begin with and have a YoHo Tokyo Black, a mere 5.5% alcohol. It wasn't terribly exciting, the thick tarry texture being the most interesting aspect. On the flavour there were some caramel and coffee notes, making me think of an English mild. Very mild, in fact. It all had me needing something with a bit more flavour.

Fearing the supply wouldn't last long, I followed with a third of The Angel's Share from Port Brewing in California. Aye, not bad. Or rather, one of the best beers I've ever tasted. There's quite a light touch on the bourbon barrel, lending it a whisky-like character but without any of the cloying sweet or woody characteristics of Scottish whisky-aged ales. Amazingly, at 12.5% ABV it comes across no more boozy than a typical wine at this strength. I don't think I need go into a list of the flavours coming from this immensely complex ale (think vanilla, think raisins): I can't hope to do it all justice. Just be aware that the finish is incredibly long, and that anyone who has ideas about wine=good while beer=bad needs a glass of this. Phew.

The palate needed a bit of clearing after that, and I was thirsty having spent half an hour sipping my tiny glass, taking a wander around the cavernous venue as I savoured. So next up was a light and hoppy east coaster: Freshchester Pale Ale from Captain Lawrence in New York state. It's basically hops-and-water, a real beer for the maltophobe. The flavour is acidic and raw, and I can imagine this would be tempered when served from the keg. But on cask it's green green green all the way, with a light body ensuring it remains drinkable. Tasty, and just what I needed before tackling barrel number 2.

Tsarina Esra is an imperial stout from De Molen, the Dutch brewery I visited last year. This one was being served from the wood, and definitely had an oakier flavour than The Angel's Share, with the whisky and vanilla flavours one might expect. However there's also a very nice liquorice bitterness to it, as well as the perfect creamy silk texture. Utterly delicious.

I don't see De Molen Amarillos anywhere on my BSF beer list, but I was handed some by Maeib (thanks!). Were you guys sneaking beer into the country's largest festival? Anyway, it's gorgeous too: those wonderful manadarin notes of American hoppy beers with a sharp lip-smacking tang. Much less work than any American double IPA I've had.
(Late late edit: I just realised I had this at the brewery shortly after it was bottled. It was good back then too.)

My mention of goats-in-millinery a few weeks ago prompted a recommendation for HopDevil, from the Victory brewery in Pennsylvania. Cheers, lemasney, I enjoyed this. It's a wonderfully balanced IPA with all the bitter complexity of Goose Island IPA and the maltiness of Brooklyn's East India Pale Ale. A damned near perfect example of the style.

The last US beer of the day completed the barrel set. I'd missed Dogfish Head's 90 minute IPA, but their Palo Santo Marron was still on. This thick black ale is brimming with light fruit flavours: I got cherries and chestnuts in abundance with a hint of raspberries and a tasty smoky caramel finish. With the strong stuff out of the way, my palate was in need of a complete reset and I reckoned only a lambic would do it. I opted for Girardin Lambiek and was glad I did: a textbook mouth-waterer.

Up at the German and Czech end of the bar I chanced a dark beer from the middle of the Czech Republic: Bernard Černé. After all that had gone before I was a tad disappointed. This dark keg lager is quite dry and schwarzbier-like. Just a bit too charcoally for my liking. I won't be rushing back to Prague on the strength of this one. Before I headed off to nab some token English beers, Tandleman served me a Keesmann Herren Pils, the soft creamy flavour of which reminded me of why this style is still worth drinking. I don't think I've ever had a pils this good. It's not a style I thought it possible to enthuse over, but that's what I like about festivals: I learn stuff.

Next up, I go around the corner and into England.

State of the nation

Whoosh! There went the 2008 Great British Beer Festival, in just six and a half glorious hours of great beer and excellent company. Especially big thanks to Maeib, who spotted me on my tod and introduced me to his fellow RateBeerians (Chris_O I should have known already as I met him last year: sorry Chris). Other People of t'Internet I met included Chris and Merideth of BeerGeek TV, Young CAMRA's Dubbel, the elusive Tandleman and the very obvious and very purple Stonch. I saw the back of Pete Brown's head from a distance as he whizzed past looking very busy. Zythophile: sorry I missed you. I was looking for the bloke in the cream jacket but it was like a bloody Martin Bell lookalikes' convention in there.

And of course the leading lights of Irish craft brewing were there, hovering by the Irish section of the Bières Sans Frontières bar (which was decked out in livery announcing it as "Leprechaun Lane": we do like our bit of casual racism in CAMRA). Whitewater also had a couple of beers on across the way in the miniscule Northern Ireland section. I have to say I was a little disappointed with Clotworthy Dobbin on cask. I love this beer from the bottle: full-bodied, leaning towards heavy, but still eminently gulpable and full of rich fruit and chocolate flavours. It could well be that several barrel-aged beers and a spicy pork pie had numbed my palate by the time I got to this, but I really felt it lacked the robustness of the Clotworthy I usually enjoy.

I found the same only more so with Galway Hooker on cask. Keggy fizz really brings out the American-style hoppiness of this, while still leaving the very Irish crystal malt sweetness at the back. From the cask those hops are toned down and a sort of raw grainy character comes out. Nevertheless, I heard some very positive reactions from the English tasters, and no less a personage than Stonch gave it his seal of approval (get your coat, Aidan mate: you've pulled).

Top of my Irish hitlist was the sublime MM Imperial, but I went whoring after some of the fancy American brews first and within a couple of hours the Imperial was all gone, and none of it to me. A firm self-inflicted kick to the The Beer Nut's shins for that one. I comforted myself with a glass of Messrs Maguire Extra instead, a beer I've not had in ages and never written about here. I had actually gone looking for it in its home pub last week -- where it's served on nitro, natch -- but they were all out. From the cask it produced a similar sensation to fresh Porterhouse Plain Porter: big roasty notes on the nose followed by chocolate flavours on the foretaste. It finishes with the classic Irish dryness, just catching the back of the throat. A superbly balanced, high quality, plain drinking pint of Irish stout of the sort that is almost completely unavailable in Ireland (Carlow's Druid's Brew -- available for two days each year -- is the only one that comes close).

The festival continues until Saturday as will, I expect, my posts about it. At least. But before I leave Irish beer for a while, I thought I'd throw in a quick note about a beer Thom had a go at recently: the mysterious one called Shiva, made exclusively for Monty's Nepalese restaurant in Temple Bar. It's a fairly heavy dark-golden lager with some major fruitiness about it. I can't say I spotted Thom's Nepalese apples, but it does carry a definite suggestion that the lagering was done at temperatures higher than they should have been. I found it quite drinkable with my spicy Nepalese lunch all the same, but then I like Cobra, so who the hell am I to judge?

Shiva is named after Monty's owner, but there's nothing written on the label to say who makes it. I seem to remember from the last time I had it -- about six years ago -- that Celtic Brew in Meath were listed as the brewer previously. Back then, Celtic Brew was a going concern and a major player in Irish craft beer, best known for the Finian's range. Brewing stopped a year or two later and the company now concentrates on its import business. The proprietor, Dean McGuinness, can be heard on the "Movies and Booze" slot on Sean Moncrieff's Newstalk show on Fridays. My suspicion is that he's still making this to keep his brewery ticking over. I also suspect that he's behind Mao's house lager, since both beers look like they've come through the same half-arsed labelling machine. Tenuous, but as good a theory as any.

(Mao news just in: I won one of the prizes in the Bubble Brothers' Mao/iKi beer compo. Watch a video of me getting lucky here.)

Anyway, apologies for the interlude into dodgy Irish lager. More and better from Earl's Court to follow.

Hanging with Bernard

The weather hasn't improved much since my last round of St Bernardus beers back in June. Not that that stopped me trying out the lighter and paler beers in the range.

St Bernardus Wit first, with its strikingly non-retro foil label. It's quite pale and yellowish, and shares the same kind of firm heavy head as the Prior 8. The texture is very prickly, generally a positive addition to the classic witbier spice. But of that spice there was very little sign. The whole taste experience was really rather watery to begin with. I'd been storing the bottle on its side in the fridge so had let it stand a while before opening, to allow the considerable sediment drop down to the bottom. Really I shouldn't have bothered: as soon as the lees went in the flavour opened up and all the great things about Belgian witbier came out. The coriander and orange peel were easily spotted and there's even a good bit of hop character to it. The result is an aftertaste of spice and honey following an up-front tart and sherbet-like citrus kick. The fingerprints of Pierre Celis, godfather of witbier, are all over this. Yet for all the complexity and rather high 5.5% ABV, it's still a very quaffable beer and didn't last long in my glass.

The monastic hierarchy series of ales bottoms out with Pater 6, pouring light brown with lots of floaty bits and that familiar cream topping. The nose is brimful of raisins, though the taste is light on fruit, with just a hint of it, dominated by a sharp and yeasty bitterness. My overall impression was of an easy-going, relatively lightweight, but very Belgian dark ale: your every-day sort of abbey beer.

Last of the bunch is the Tripel. From the bottle it's a beautiful shade of orange with a promising suggestion of spices on the nose. A bit like the Wit, I was underwhelmed with my first sip and was about to dimiss it as flavourless when the toffee arrived: big slabs of it. What I'm normally after in a tripel is summer fruits and exotic spices, but there are only traces of these in here. The end result is quite low-key, but pleasant enough. No match for any of the trappists in the tripel stakes, however.

(The complex historical relationship between the St Bernardus brewery at Watou and the nearby brewing monks of St Sixtus in Westvleteren is explained rather well by Stan Hieronymous here.)

Next on the agenda for me is the Great British Beer Festival in London tomorrow. I'm on the red-eye to Heathrow in the morning and -- what with all those wonderful-sounding strong beers to try before 5pm -- the even-redder-eye home again.

Now we are 10

Apparently, there's a glut of Fuller's Vintage Ale on the UK market at the moment, and it's being sold in supermarkets for next to nothing. I paid something quite a distance from nothing for my bottle, but without it I'd have been lost for a special anniversary beer for this month's Session, and that wouldn't do at all.

There's no shortage of limited edition special beers covered on this blog: they're the ones I normally make a beeline for, like the superb but different 10th anniversary stouts from The Porterhouse and Carlow Brewing, or the IPA Emerson's made when they hit double figures.

But I was a bit wary when the selection on Dublin's off licence shelves left me no option but Fuller's Vintage 2007. This is another 10th anniversary beer, and I felt a little guilty at the thought of cracking it open since these bottle conditioned strong ales are known to improve for ages and ages. But no less an authority than The Zythophile said lash into the 2007s now, so I did.

It seemed a bit flat as I poured it, and the big head kinda fizzed up on me unexpectedly. It was plain even as the dark amber liquid came out of the bottle that this is a very viscous beer. Sure enough, one sip has me looking for a knife and fork. There's sugar on the nose in abundance, and hints of apple and cinnamon. The taste is as sweet as would be expected: big sticky malt, with liquorice and plums at the front followed by a spicy hops bitterness (the Super Styrians, I'd imagine) and then a lovely warming lip-smacking carmel smokiness right at the very end. And all sitting on a dirty, greasy thick body which carries a surprising amount of fizz for all that, but in a dry cleansing sparkling way.

No, I won't be shelling out another €10 for a second bottle of this. Not when I can get 75cl of O'Hara's Celebration for less than half that, but £1.39 or equivalent I could definitely countenance, and I'd love to find out how it shapes up after a couple of years' cellaring. I'll be keeping an eye out, next time I'm up north.