In the final post from my weekend in Madrid, a rapid run through the remaining pubs I visited, and what I found in them.
There were two visits to Chinaski Lavapiés, though I confess I was more interested in the cider and mead so don't have a lot of beer to report. First up here was an India pale lager called I Am Easy from Jakobsland Brewers in Santiago de Compostela. A creamy lemon meringue sweetness is followed by a sharp, mouthwatering lime tang, meaning it offers more complexity than most IPLs. And it's still a decent, clean, well-made lager at heart. These rarely impress me but this guy almost manages it.
Pride of place on the menu was Oud Beersel Rozenlambiek, a lambic with the unusual added flavouring of rose petals. They've given it a pinkish hue and while I don't think I'd have guessed rose, there is a certain redness in the flavour. I've noted it as rhubarb, though redcurrants would also be an understandable guess. It's smooth and flat, and not insanely sour, showing a balance and mature mellow character. The outstanding quality of the base beer ensures the novelty factor doesn't get out of hand. This remains beautiful and classical all the way through.
Like Bee Beer in yesterday's post, Fogg is another beer and cheese specialist. I couldn't resist the lure of a Spanish-brewed cask bitter. A Degüellu from Asturian brewery DAI is an authentic 3.8% ABV, amber-coloured and nicely tannic with a mild bitterness. They've done their homework! A slight astringency and a touch of phenols are the only bum notes, and the latter may be the pub's fault. Overall, though, this is an excellent interpretation and more than a novelty: a very decent true session beer.
La Conquista was not on my list of Madrid venues: I think it may be quite new, so here I am doing my bit to boost it. And it deserves boosting. This is another tiny space, long and narrow with a bar and two rooms which are little more than alcoves. The walls are a stark white, the furniture pale wood, and a big-screen TV was showing homebrew how-to videos. We are definitely in an outpost of Craftonia.
The tongue-twisting Baias Garagardotegia brewery supplies the first beer: Kerala, a pumpkin ale. It was late October, after all. This is a bruising 6.7% ABV with a light gingerbread spicing to the fore but plainer after, with little character other than some dreggy yeast and a raisin or fig sweetness. It's pretty inoffensive and won't change anyone's mind about pumpkin beers, in either direction.
The Estonian Craftonians Põhjala were on deck with a 7.8% ABV imperial porter called Must Kuld. It has a chocolate sauce aroma and a thick syrupy texture; much bigger than the export-stout ABV might imply. There's a kick of espresso roast and a pleasingly grown-up tarry bitterness. I honestly couldn't find any flaws in this: it's just how I like strong black beers to be.
It felt wrong to follow that with a New England IPA, but it was late and I did, seeking one last blast of hops. To Øl's The Haze Craze was the weapon of choice. While it is indeed hazy, I found it rather pleasingly sane. No garlic, no vanilla; instead a merry mix of coconut and apricot on a smooth and easy-going body. There are numerous vestiges here of the straight IPA that the style evolved from, and it's all the better for them.
Just the classics at the airport, then. Alhambra Reserva 1925 comes in its embossed bottle. It's a typical eurolager in the Spanish sub-style: big on malty thickness with a tang of boiled veg and melted plastic. It was a surprise to find that something this light and clean was all of 6.4% ABV, and knowing that, I started to perceive a sense of northern German bock from it. Maybe I'm just excusing the things I dislike about it. Still, I can see this having a use case when it's hot, you want a lager, but need a sizeable alcohol jolt at the same time.
Also on the roster at the airport: Mahou Maestra, a whopper at 7.5% ABV and claiming "doble lúpulo". Ay ay ay! It looks dense, being a burnished copper red, though perfectly clear, of course. A Germanic hop bitterness jumps out of the aroma. There's a kind of meaty, savoury effect in the flavour, one I didn't care for. All the edges are rounded off it and it tastes quite dull as a result. There's a shade of doppelbock caramel but it doesn't go far enough down that road to be acceptable, stopping at strong lager without proceeding to interesting strong lager. Don't bother with it. Doble lúpulo me arse.
And done! Spain was a lot more exciting than I was expecting, beerwise. The internationally-known craft breweries that I thought would have the market sewn up were nowhere to be seen and there was plenty in their place. It looks too like everything, from all over, comes to Madrid. With a a couple of days, a list of bars and a metro ticket, you can find out a lot about what Spain's independent outfits are brewing.
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