Ask if it's glass

The UK beer media doesn't talk much about the Premium Bottled Ale category. To an outsider, it can seem like it doesn't exist any more, but small British breweries are still turning out beers in half litre bottles, and they always seem to end up at gatherings of my family. No cartoon cans here. Today's selection came from my festive break in rural Shropshire, though were suitcased in from various corners of the country.

Stone Daisy is based in Wiltshire, and Park Bottom is an IPA of 4.5% ABV, though they don't give us any further information than that. It's traditional style, of course, being a pale shade of amber with a fine white froth, the bottle pour doing a good impression of cask conditioning. There's a lemon juice tartness in the aroma, a little too severe and vinegar-like for my liking, with a twist of curdled milk for extra nastiness. Thankfully, the flavour is softer, thanks mainly, I think, to a high level of unfermented sugar, giving it an overall sweetness and full body. That tastes of jammy strawberry, sticky Lucozade and stickier Liquorice Allsorts. It's an odd set of impressions, and while it works, it's not the beer for me. There's a lingering acidity in the taste that's slightly gastric, or aspirin-esque, and that detracts from anything good or wholesome going on. The best I can say is that it's a very grown-up tasting beer, even if the label is rather childish.

Sourced more locally was Three Tuns Fezziwig, which I guess is intended as a companion piece to the brewery's Old Scrooge winter ale. This one is 4.8% ABV and copper coloured. It smells nicely floral, with more than a suggestion of honey sweetness. The flavour veers in that direction, opening on red lemonade and heavy caramel. Before it can get difficult, however, it's dried out by tea-like tannins, adding a gently leafy bitterness. That lasts long into the finish, the tea effect getting stronger and more concentrated. All told it's a bit of a bruiser, which is especially surprising given the modest strength. I don't think that it's otherwise Christmassy, though perhaps we should be glad they weren't tempted to bung novelty ingredients in. That doesn't seem to be the Three Tuns way, thankfully.

To Wales next, and Powys brewery Monty's. Gwyn a Du ("White and Black") is a 4% ABV stout, hopped with Styrian Dragons, not Welsh ones. It's bottle conditioned, so the off-white head was stained slightly browner in places with yeast dregs as it poured -- rarely a problem with stout. Much has been blathered in the beer discourse recently, especially in the UK, about possible replacements for Guinness when it's in short supply. I've never really understood the question, because Guinness's attraction is all about the brand and not the beer, but I can see where they're coming from here. This is light and toasty, just like the mainstream Irish brands, but it also has a tang of bitterness that resembles the one in Guinness. There's some properly stoutish dark chocolate and then a savoury herbal kick, mixing dried basil and oregano with more oily rosemary. Behind this, a subtler floral or medicinal note, of lavender and aniseed, something you don't get in any industrial stout. The whole is a combination that works incredibly well, resulting in something with profound complexity but which is still easy-going and thirst-quenching. There's even a certain creaminess to the texture, for those sufficiently lacking in taste and imagination to think that creaminess somehow makes a beer good.

Staying with Monty's, premium of the premiumest is Monty's Imperial Stout, a straight-up affair with no added silliness; 9% ABV and properly black. The density of colour follows through to the mouthfeel, which is nicely weighty and chewy. The flavour is sweet to begin with, with vanilla and milk chocolate, suggesting almost a milk stout vibe. Rather than going full pastry, it develops into a more serious herbal bitterness, not dissimilar to the previous one. I got cola nut and rosemary in particular. The chocolate makes a comeback in the finish and provides and long dessertish aftertaste. This is a very traditional sort of imperial stout, with a simplicity and elegance that the modern-day ratings chasers rarely manage. If you enjoyed the late-lamented Courage archetype, here's a reasonable substitute.

There was a token bit of cask to be had down at The Bridges, a pub which was once a showcase for Three Tuns but now seems to have been divested and, although there was a decent selection of local beers, only one from Three Tuns: Best. It's nearly a brown bitter but isn't quite sweet enough or brown enough. There's a decent dose of dry burnt caramel, while the appearance is a wholesome bright amber. A very English tang of metallic hops finishes things off. It tastes every inch the flagship bitter: straightforward, no-nonsense drinkability; no gimmicks or hard edges, but far from boring. I only had time for one quick one, though I would have been perfectly happy with a second or third pint of the same.

And there was one tick for me at the Birmingham airport Wetherspoon: Sambrooks Pumphouse, a pale ale. There's a mix of English and New Zealand hops, but mostly English, and so it tastes like a very straight-up English golden bitter. It's predominantly dry, without much of a foretaste or a finish, while the middle is raspy zinc and nettles, a bitterness that veers towards acridity but stays on the right side of it. The two best features are an aroma of floral honey, which it would have been nice to taste, and a soft texture, making it very easy drinking without being thin or watery. The whopping 4.2% ABV probably helps with that. It's plainer fare than I would have thought from Sambrooks, but when everything else on the handles is Greene King core range or Doom Bar, it will absolutely do. 

Traditional ales are very much still a thing in Britain. It's slightly odd that I don't read more about what's available.