Brummed out

On Monday I wrote about beers in Stratford-upon-Avon, but one cannot simply arrive there from Dublin; it is a necessity to travel through the city of Birmingham and drink some there while doing so. I arrived at lunchtime and thought to check out the recently-opened branch of the Indian streetfood chain Bundobust, in particular because it now has its own brewery at the Manchester branch.

In general, the beer line-up at Brumdobust (staffed by "Bundobabs", as the staff t-shirts have it) is as good as the other ones, with a dozen and more draught options, about half of which are their own. I don't especially enjoy cream ales but I also don't see them very often so am always willing to give one a throw. The house one here is called Manak and is 4.2% ABV. I can safely say it's true to type for this inexplicably craft-credentialed American industrial style, being dry, crisp and very dull. There's a tiny hint of fruity lemon fun hovering in the background, but otherwise it's a straight-up fizzy lager of the nondescript sort. I couldn't leave things there.

At least not with a house black IPA on the board as well: Pachaas 50, a bit of a beast at 7.4% ABV. The charcoal and rosewater aroma did nothing to prepare me for the powerhouse bitterness in the flavour, one which channels crunchy red cabbage in particular. This is overlaid by an exotic mix of flowers and aftershave spices which threatened busyness but faded out respectfully in the finish. It was served very cold which made for very easy drinking. While it's a superb example of the style and very much delivers what's required, I couldn't help wondering if taking a few ABV points off and serving it on cask might improve the experience further.

Immediately next door is central Birmingham's classic Real Ale pub, The Wellington. It would have been wrong not to call in for just one pint. That ended up being Piffle Snonker from local outfit Froth Blowers. This 3.8% ABV pale ale is a purest gold colour in the glass. Extensive Cascade hopping gives it bright sherbet lemon flavours, plus bubblegum, with a harder tang of west-coast resins on the finish. A very English crunchy-biscuit malt base forms the foundation from which this is delivered. I thought it had a lot in common with other high-end American-hopped British beers, the likes of Jarl and Oakham Citra. It's just as lovely and pintable as either.

Back in Brum on the way home, I stopped by The Shakespeare, a Nicholson's pub near New Street station. At 4.30 on a Friday it was packed. From the handpumps I opted for Heroes by Two Tribes, an exceedingly pale pale ale, looking clear but unpleasantly watery. It's not though. 4.4% ABV is enough to give it plenty of heft and support some bright and fresh aroma hops, making it smell of peach and mandarin. Its flavour continues that theme, adding a tang of grapefruit bitterness to the juice. A tiny pop of raw onion is the only minor bum note. I'm guessing Mosaic is the principal hop here, and it's mostly behaving itself. As a single, on-the-hoof pint, this worked well.

Around the corner is The Sommar Tap, a quirky, down-with-the-kids, joint run by the local Sommar Brewing Co. I took the pilsner first: Scoops. This is one of those that I didn't like but can't complain about. It's another very pale beer and is absolutely loaded with noble hops, making it taste of nettles, celery, chicory and, to me, crêpe paper and chalk. I appreciated it as a well-made and properly characterful lager, just not the way I like them.

The stout, Tanks, is another extremely characterful one, 5% ABV and heavy with it, dry hopped by experimental hop HBC 472 which appears to make it taste of bitumen, coffee grounds, sandalwood and burnt toast. The aftertaste carries black IPA vibes of red cabbage and roses. As such, it's a bit of a workout. I waited for the moment where the enjoyment would snap into place, but it kept me on my toes for the whole half. This isn't an easy or accessible beer, and even as a fan of bitterly hopped stouts I struggled a little with it.

At the airport I discovered that Beavertown has a lager, called Bones. It is extremely dull, tasting like exactly the sort of mass-produced commodity lager one would expect from Heineken. There's a stale sort of dryness, like a soggy digestive biscuit. A little hop-derived grass saves it a little but I couldn't help thinking I would have been better treated by the Moretti on the next tap over. That's what everyone else was drinking.

Finally to the airport Wetherspoon and two more pale golden jobs. On the left, Milestone Fletcher's, a bit of a powerhouse at 5.2% ABV. Kiwi hops are promised, though the aroma is sharp and savoury, with a whiff of funky fermenting grass. The flavour is altogether more pleasing, tasting soft and sweet, of kiwifruit and ripe honeydew melon. It doesn't taste strong, though, and the finish is quick. While I liked it, I found myself wanting more of what it does.

And on the right, Twenty Four Seven by Roosters, a little lighter at 4.7% ABV though also claiming New Zealand hop character. Here's the diesel aroma of full-throated Nelson Sauvin, and while it doesn't taste very complex or fruity, there's a solid satisfying freshly bitter kick that I really enjoyed. There are floral and herbal elements, and more of a malt base than in the stronger Milestone one. While again it's not hugely complex, it's a class act and I wish I'd had time for a relaxing pint but my gate was called just as I started into it. Such is the jet-set cask-conditioned lifestyle.

That completes my beer drinking in England for this summer. Luckily there are more travels just around the corner.