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.

It's windmiller time

"What brings you to Bodegraven?" I was asked three times last Sunday on my short visit to the sleepy village between Utrecht and Leiden. My response, "Why, the brewery, of course", drew unanimously surprised looks, particularly odd since two of the questioners were staffing said establishment, and the other was drinking at the next table.

The De Molen brewery and restaurant, as the name suggests, is in a windmill, much like my beloved 't IJ brewery in Amsterdam. The large back room was occupied by a private party so I took up residence in the sunny front parlour to begin working my way through the beer menu on the adjacent blackboard. Menno, host and brewer, was on hand to offer notes on the background of each. I may even remember some of what he told me.

Pilz first. Menno said he had to make a pils because the market demands it. I was very glad to see that Ireland isn't the only country whose microbreweries have to face this hurdle. It's pretty inoffensive: dry, grainy and generally unchallenging. The red-amber Bock lager is a very different proposition. This one is highly malty, yet bitter, with none of the sugariness often found in dark lagers.

The strangest thing about De Molen Dubbel is its apparent opaque muddy brown colour. Only when held up to the light is the deep red hue apparent. It's heftily bitter and the only hints of fruit -- raisins to be precise -- arrive after a few minutes of warming. Much more fruit is present in the powerful and bitter hazy orange Tripel. 9.2% ABV and deceptively smooth drinking.

Oddity de jour was Ongemoutgraan, a 4.5% ABV pale yellow beer made mostly from unmalted barley. It's a laborious process, says Menno. What it produces is a grainy, worty, porridgey flavour balanced against a zingy hoppy bitterness, and much more flavour and body than the strength suggests. An ideal summer refresher, but pretty good on a December afternoon too. Engels is another masterpiece of originality: its English heritage is apparent from the sweet and hoppy aroma. While there are a couple of English ales with the whole chocolate-and-oranges thing going on (Young's Bitter springs to mind), none have it expressed as strongly, and deliciously, as this one. And, frankly, there aren't enough beers named after the founders of communism.

I was fortunate that Menno chose the time of my visit to show off one of his latest creations to a regular. Cue expectant look from the Beer Nut in the corner. The dry-hopped Amarillos Winter Warmer was just a week in the bottle. It's another 9.2% monster, this time in an IPA sort of style, though made with La Chouffe yeast. The flavour is brimming with peaches and madarins, balanced against that IPA bitterness. Add in the flat and sticky feel of a very young and very strong beer, and you have the ideal dessert accompaniment.

De Molen beers aren't confined to their place of birth, however. Most are bottled, and a shop on site sells them alongside a variety of other artisan products. I took two bottles away with me. My only previous experience of Stoombier was the one produced by Pelgrim in Rotterdam, by which I wasn't terribly impressed. De Molen Stoombier is much much better: brimming with citrusy flavours resulting from its dry hopping. It pours to a lovely foamy head and makes for very easy drinking, despite a fairly weighty 5.7% ABV.

Proudly displayed in the De Molen shop is the brewer's certificate from the 2005 Great British Beer Festival, where Borefts Stout won Favourite Belgian/Dutch beer. Borefts is a very dry and gassy beer, and begins with a carbonic sharpness, reminding me in particular of Guinness Foreign Extra, but in a good way. It's very filling and warming, possessed of a mild chocolatey bitterness. Not the world's greatest stout, but I can see how it would be a "favourite".

In the microbrewery windmill leagues, I think my heart still belongs to 't IJ, just for its sheer oddness. However, the warmth of the welcome and the quality of the beer make De Molen well worth the trip to Bodegraven. The regulars and staff ought not be at all surprised by this.