Don't have a cow

After a wait of six months, and plenty of pan-European brewing activity evidenced on Twitter, the second beer from the Brown Paper Bag Project landed last week. Oxman is a 5.8% ABV brown ale and was launched in parallel with a re-brewed, re-designed Dr Rudi, the second batch of which, I think, was brewed at Proef in Belgium.

Actually, they're not great on the whole provenance thing, the Baggers. Not only does Oxman not say where it comes from (Dancing Duck in Derbyshire, I'm told), it doesn't even say where the Project itself is based, which puts it in breach of Irish labelling laws. And while I'm throwing the book at them, the promised best before date wasn't on the shoulder of my bottle either, not that that one matters to me particularly.

It's definitely bottle-conditioned, as a layer of sediment shows clearly at the base of the bottle. That's something that tends to niggle me with medium-strength beers in 33cl bottles but this one is strong enough and dark enough for it not to be a problem. A mahogany coloured body is topped by a thin ivory head from which a wholesome oatmeal and raisin aroma rises. The texture is a beautiful sheer silk, one that bottle conditioned beers so rarely have, and the lead flavours are milk chocolate finishing on a crisp green bitterness fading to slightly metallic tangy notes. What separates it from your run of the mill brown ale is that extra ABV, spreading warmth and good vibes on the palate and down the hatch. There is a school of thought which says this sort of beer is only suited to winter but you won't find me at assembly there.

It's not a knock-you-out-of-your-chair-with-amazement beer. I've yet to find a brown ale that is. But it is a very well-balanced yet assertive, moreish ale. There's a limited supply on cask at WJ Kavanagh's and I strongly recommend taking the opportunity of getting stuck in to a proper pint or two if you can.

Strong recollection

My end-of-year ambition was to clear out all the scribbled unused tasting notes I have and turn them into proper blog posts. I nearly did it too. Among the stragglers were two from Hardknott brewery, from separate occasions earlier in the year. Rhetoric came courtesy of brewer Dave via Reuben back in August. It was supposed to be opened, consumed and commented on across the Internet in a coordinated way at an appointed time, but that sort of thing is way too difficult so we settled for sharing a bottle in our own time later on.

It's 10.2% ABV and Dave has branded it as a Belgian-style quadrupel, and my first surprise was the colour: a clear red rather than the murky brown I was expecting. But who gives a toss about colour? I do give a toss about oxidation, however, and I can taste it in spades here. The first hit is a not-at-all unpleasant sherry kick and it's only after this that a bit of stale wet cardboard creeps in. In the middle there's a lovely balsamic strawberry effect, plus a lacing of liquorice from the star anise. It's a busy, chaotic sort of beer and tasted rather homebrewey to me: like one of my batches where I try too many different experiments at once. With a little refining it could be superb.

A few weeks previously I had picked up a bottle of Hardknott's Vitesse Noir in York. This is an 11% ABV imperial stout with added coffee, chocolate and vanilla, with a label which promises an "over-the-top explosion of stimulating flavours". It's certainly a dense beast and won't be rushed into the glass, showing little signs of carbonation and lazily forming a dark brown head. Nothing especially stimulating jumps out of the aroma: just the sweet roasted smell you get from any decent strong stout. But this is just a trick, to wrongfoot the unwary drinker. The flavour is intense. It's hard to pick out any individual elements at first: it's just a blast of fruit and roast and alcohol, but by the third sip it had come into focus. Milk chocolate and the vanilla to begin: literally sweetness and light. The sweetness changes tack in the middle, turning fruity, with elements of black cherry and sultana. The liqueurish booze makes its presence felt at this stage too, introducing the sort of headiness you get in suspicious stoneware bottles from olive-skinned peasants. Then a grand crescendo of dry roast to finish, overlaid with darker, more serious, chocolate notes. A magnificent beer and one to remember.

So while I'm looking back at beers consumed earlier in the year I reckon I may as well take the whole year into consideration. As usual I'm employing the template created by Mark and Andy. Can you believe it's year 4 already? Cor.

Let me just slip into my sparkly cocktail dress and sashay up the red carpet for...
The Golden Pint Awards 2012

Best Irish Draught Beer: Dungarvan Rye-PA
Almost literally a blink-and-you-missed-it appearance at the Irish Craft Beer Festival this year. And while this pale ale combined two things I don't normally approve of in beer, namely rye and very limited availability, it was stunning: spectacularly combining bold assertive hops with smooth cask drinkability. The hope of a more regular supply is just one reason I hand over this award.

Best Irish Bottled or Canned Beer: 8 Degrees Ochtoberfest
I'm cheating a wee bit here as I drank a lot more of this on draught than from the bottle (especially that memorable night in Farrington's when Barry was over), but it was gorgeous in both varieties and a definite contender for Ireland's best ever lager. Two in a row in this category for the trans-Tasman partnership in Mitchelstown.

Best Overseas Draught Beer: Raging Bitch
I made a decent fist of travel this year, making it to nine countries, including much beery delight in England, Germany, Denmark and the Netherlands. But the gong here goes to a beer served much closer to home. Against the Grain seems to have a permanent selection of Flying Dog beers on tap, and this old favourite of mine is the one that made my year. Raging Bitch is one of the very few to get the right balance between pungent American hops and funky Belgian yeast.

Best Overseas Bottled or Canned Beer: Kernel Export India Porter
Looking at other people's Golden Pints, I can see that the Wizards of Bermondsey have been sweeping the board. Reason enough for me to pass them over. But I have memories of that balmy summer's evening in the York Tap, when I thought my palate was completely exhausted, and my Export India Porter nightcap served as a reminder for once and for all that there's always room to enjoy another beer, if said beer is good enough. And robust yet delicate Kernel Export India Porter certainly is that.


Best Overall Beer: 8 Degrees Ochtoberfest
Looking at my four nominations, that's a pretty broad range of styles, and all them are beers which suit particular moods and settings while being less appropriate for others. I'm tempted to give it to Dungarvan, but I don't think I can justify it on the paltry amount I drank. So this will be going to the plentiful all-weather lager.

Best Pumpclip or Label: Dr. Rudi
They don't put a foot wrong, the L. Mulligan Grocer team, when it comes to the look and feel of their product. Usually you'll find it in the ambiance of their pubs or the playfulness of their menus, but their attention was turned to beer this year, and Dr. Rudi -- first in a series from "The Brown Paper Bag Project" -- was the result. Classical, sober, understated, but with more than a hint of fun about it.

Best Irish Brewery: White Gypsy
A return to the podium for the 2009 winner in this category. White Gypsy has kept the headlong rush of limited edition cask and keg specialties coming. But there's been a settledness too, with their excellent Belgian Blonde and Pils a regular feature at Bear (which would win my restaurant nomination for 2012 if there was one), and the long-awaited delivery of the bottled series of strong beers. From session red ale, to lager, to imperial stout and doppelbock: all things to all drinkers is just what you want from your local brewery.

Best Overseas Brewery: Evil Twin
I was sipping on thimblefuls at the Borefts festival so no single Evil Twin beer gets an award from me, but there were some absolute corkers in there, not least of which were the Hey Zeus! imperial stout and Molotov Spicy Cocktail IPA with chilli. With merely a pang of guilt that they're not really a brewery, I give this one to Jeppe.

Pub/Bar of the Year: Rody Boland's
A firm handshake, sincere well done and Silver Pint to WJ Kavanagh's which opened in Dublin this year and where I've spent many happy afternoons and evenings being well fed and beered, but once again I'm giving the award to a non-specialist pub. Being a mile from my front door means Rody Boland's doesn't quite qualify as a local for me, but it's not exactly a drinking destination either. Shopping in Rathmines, or going to the cinema, it's just there and you can drop in for a pint of something decent for a very reasonable price. Exactly what we need from pubs, in short.

Beer Festival of the Year: Irish Craft Beer Festival
Easy one this. Stand aside Borefts, move over Berlin: Dublin's three-day extravaganza in September was the year's top ticket, for the beer offer as well as the amazing atmosphere of joy and beery bonhomie. I may have spent quite a lot of it sticking wristbands on punters but there was still plenty to enjoy. Well done to the Seamus and Bruce who organised and the army of Beoir volunteers, ably coordinated by Andrew, who pitched in. If you've yet to experience Ireland's craft beer revolution, the RDS in September is one of the best places to do it.

Supermarket/Shop/Online retailer of the year: No-one
Once again I've bought next to no beer in supermarkets this year. Tesco seem to have made a bit of an effort, with Dunnes and Superquinn coming up behind them with a better beer offer than before, but none of this has really affected me. My regular haunts for beer buying -- DrinkStore, The Beer Club and Redmond's -- are still there and still as great as ever, but I'm not going to pick one out. And I don't buy beer online, though it's good to see Bradley's in Cork getting into that game as well. So no trophies, just an all-round keep-doing-what-you're-doing.

Best Beer Book or Magazine: Shakespeare's Local
Another area where I'm not in much of a position to make a call. This year's top reference work seems to have been Stephen Beaumont and Tim Webb's World Atlas of Beer but I've not seen it; while Stan Hieronymus's For the Love of Hops arrived too late for me to get a proper look at it. Which leaves, by default, Pete Brown to take the Golden Pint Award for Only Beer Book I Read All Year. Shakespeare's Local is a fascinating social history of the London Borough of Southwark, told with particular reference to The George, last of London's galleried coaching inns, all told in Pete's usual fun and matey style.

Best Beer Blog or Website: The Drunken Destrier 
Writing a blog of just tasting notes is a lonely furrow, I have found, and there aren't many others that I read. Too many are just lists of flavour descriptors or, worse, numerical ratings. So it's refreshing to find a blog that keeps a similar line to mine and does it in a lucid and entertaining way. For that reason, Kill of The Drunken Destrier is my blog of the year. Bonus points for some impressive beer photography as well.

Best Beer Twitterer: @BrouwerVanKlomp
A rare, sometimes terrifying, but always fascinating glimpse into the mind of one of Belgium's -- and the world's -- greatest brewers. Worth a follow if you feel you're worthy, though you obviously aren't.

Best Online Brewery Presence: Dungarvan Brewing
Oh how all those wonderful websites launched two or three years ago by the new wave of Irish breweries have fallen into abeyance. No-one seems quite able to keep their seasonals and availability quite up to date. I suppose it all goes on Facebook, though I don't. So this will be a Top Marks For Effort job, and it goes to Dungarvan for lots of quality tweeting and a shiny new website. Brown paper seems to be quite the design trend this year.

Food and Beer Pairing of the Year: Lunch at Jacobsen
Food and beer is a big part of what Carlsberg subsidiary Jacobsen does, so when they hosted the European Beer Consumers Union delegates in September it's not surprising that they pulled out the big guns. I won't go into detail, but if you are in Copenhagen do tear yourself away from Fermentoren and Mikkeller for an hour and have lunch in Jacobsen. And try the cheese.

Open category: Best Cider: Double L
It doesn't get mentioned much on this blog, but cider has become a much bigger part of my drinking life in the past year. The Irish cider revolution rumbles on apace and the quality of produce coming from the north -- Armagh Cider and Tempted? in particular -- is fantastic. Down here there's quality cider from the likes of Stonewell and Longuville House, but my cider highlight of the year was cask Double L at WJ Kavanagh's. Apple perfection in a glass.

In 2013 I’d most like to... get reacquainted with Belgium
It has been far too long. The Cantillon open day in early 2009 was the last time I set foot in Brussels. I have to get back and do some serious catching up: Moeder Lambic Fontainas is calling.

Rule 42 and all that

It's incredibly heartening to see a more eclectic range of styles coming from Ireland's breweries. On the one hand we don't really have any native beer styles of our own (isn't it high time someone made a commercial Irish gruit ale?) but up until relatively recently it was nearly all stouts, pale lagers and red ales, seldom venturing much above or below 4.5% ABV. 2012, however, has seen Ireland's first Oktoberfestbier, a rye-based pale ale and something which may or may not be a black IPA, depending on how you feel about such matters.

Latest in this celebration of beery diversity is Dr. Rudi, a Belgian-style ale, single-hopped with the eponymous New Zealand variety, and launched in Dublin just last Saturday. It's 7.4% ABV and a middling amber shade, where orange turns to russet, so on the pale side for a dubbel which is the style it most resembles. Its Belgian credentials are to the fore in the aroma, with a heady warming alcohol vapour drifting off, heavily laden with fruit esters. These crystalise on tasting into dark fig and raisin notes, though the texture is quite light, not at all suggesting the beer's full strength. Not long after that first sip the hops kick in and remind the drinker why Dr. Rudi hops were originally sold under the label "Super Alpha": a huge, tongue-stripping bitterness initially melding with the fruit but eventually dominating the palate with grassy resinous flavours. The sweet malts just manage to hold it in check. It's an unsteady sort of balance and quite interesting to observe.

The people behind the beer are the crew of L. Mulligan Grocer and W.J. Kavanagh's, utilising the brewing facilities at Eight Degrees in Mitchelstown. It's the first of a gypsy-brewing series they've titled The Brown Paper Bag Project, presumably targeting vagrants as the primary demographic. It's a particularly tough market segment and already well catered for, so with thanks for the freebie bottle I wish them every success and look forward to the next in the series.

Meanwhile, I've managed to get my mitts on another from White Gypsy's series of thoroughly unIrish large-format strong beers. This is the White Gypsy American Pale Ale, a beer which rapidly achieved legendary status in 2011 under its original name of Mustang. This was my first time tasting it after well over a year of believing the hype. It's a mite stronger than Dr. Rudi, but while the former's label is effusive on the philosophy and production details, this White Gypsy is downright taciturn, giving you fair warning that the beer is bitter, tastes a bit like grapefruit and goes well with grilled chicken and that's all you need to know.

Colourwise it's the wholesome brown of strong black tea. Perhaps this is why I detected tannic elements in it, but I hope I'm not imagining it because it's lovely. The hops aren't laid on too heavy and the beer is neither over-perfumed nor harshly bitter. Instead it has much more of a floral, English vibe. I get elderflower and lilacs rather than grapefruit and mandarin: more a soft-spoken lady than a brash tatoo'd metalhead. And like the best English pale ales, it's extremely easy to put away, the balanced flavours conspiring with light carbonation resulting in 75cl of 7.5% ABV disappearing with indecent haste. Get the chicken out of your George Foreman before you pop the cap.

You probably won't find anything like Dr. Rudi in Belgium, and I've never encountered an actual American beer like White Gypsy American Pale Ale. Perhaps this whole nationalisation of styles is overstated in the first place.