The thin black line

The mass exodus was in full swing as I walked into King's Cross station, the day before Christmas Eve. While hordes of hopeful travellers gazed longingly at the departures board, I had rather less ambitious plans: just a wander around some pubs in the north London area. But I was early for kick-off, it being only 11.30 with most places scheduled to open at noon. Just as well there's a decent pub in the station, then.

Trade at The Parcel Yard was brisk, with groups of travellers having final pints near the doors, ready to dash for their trains. As always, an extensive range of Fuller's beers was on offer. A well-turned pint of Bengal Lancer would have been the sensible option, but there was also the winter seasonal Jack Frost, one I had never tried before and had heard rumours of its imminent discontinuation. Putting aside the fact that I've never heard a good word said about it, I ordered a half. And you know, I quite enjoyed it. It's a dark red colour and rather than the sweet confection I was expecting from a blackberry beer, it's only mildly fruity with the blackberries hovering respectfully at the front of the palate. This fades quickly and it turns into a normal, albeit rather plain, brown bitter, only for the dark fruit to return in the aftertaste. Not at all sweet, nor overpoweringly flavoured. I'm glad I took a chance on it.

The first scheduled stop on the tour, and its southernmost point, was The Queen's Head, a little Victorian pub not far from King's Cross that has been getting some very positive mentions lately for its beer. Sadly, mentions are still all I have as it was closed. I happened to meet the manager later on and he said business had been very slow in the weekend before Christmas so it's possible I would have been the day's only punter. I wasn't fazed, however, and set off up the Pentonville Road to The Craft Beer Company's newest outlet, in Islington. Manager Emma was polishing the brasswork and apologised straight off for the poor cask showing: only four beers as they, too, were in the process of winding down for the holiday.

Thornbridge's Jaywick caught my eye straight off. This is an American-style pale ale, pouring a hazy shade of orange and exuding a waft of mandarins in the aroma. At 4.8% ABV it's a little stronger than your average English pale ale but the texture is very light making it extremely easy drinking. Not that it's bland, mind. The flavour is a complex mix of oranges, cloves and sandalwood spicing. I followed it with the house beer, Craft Pale Ale, commissioned from the Kent Brewery. This is a limpid pale yellow colour, and a rather more typical 3.8% ABV. Though it looks the picture of blandness it's actually properly bitter, following the initial smack with some more subtle lemon tones. Sometimes this style of pale ale tends toward washing up liquid, but this avoids that completely. Simple fare, but very decent.

There weren't so many gaps among the tightly-packed keg taps. I took the opportunity to try out a couple of British breweries I've been hearing about. First up, Epic Saison by the Wild Beer Company. Sorry, I just don't get this. The whole thing is dominated by a plasticky harshness that I expected to get used to but I didn't. I wouldn't be a major fan of the saison style, but there are plenty I like. This one is like drinking a glass full of pure dregs. I could just about detect some form of fruit in the background but it's buried under the intense sharpness. Next to it was a smoked IPA from Tiny Rebel, called Hot Box. It's dark red -- almost black, really -- and the smoke is laid on thick, at the expense of the hops. Overall it's a little bit harshly phenolic and not what I'm after in either a smoked beer or an IPA.

By this time a small group of other punters -- regulars and tourists -- had gathered. Talk around the bar was largely of Southern Tier's Crème Brûlée stout. I had a taster for the road. It's crème brûlée all right: lots of vanilla and brown sugar. Still very drinkable, though, despite the nerve-jangling sweetness. Since I was a pub ahead of schedule, Emma suggested trying a new place on the other side of Islington, The Hops & Glory.

A short ride on the bus took me there, finding the pub in stark contrast to the plush cosiness of Craft Beer Co. The Hops and Glory is one of those big, wood-floored, wood-walled, pew-furnished village hall style pubs: a little cold and cavernous. Still, there were a few interesting things on tap and I got to tick off another new brewery: Redemption, and their Hopspur bitter. It's a bit dull, to be honest. Musty, grainy and no hop flavours to speak of. Maybe some sherbet if I'm being nice. Down the hatch it went and I sought something more interesting next. Kernel's 4C IPA looked like what I was after. It's a pale and hazy orange-gold colour, lightly textured and gently carbonated. You have to wonder where it's managing to hide 7.1% ABV. The hop flavours are heavy and resinous to begin with, lightening up later to a long-lasting grapefruit. The aftertaste lingers for ages, which is just as well, as the next part of my journey was a long one.

I left The Hops & Glory in daylight but it was pitch dark by the time I arrived at The Bull in Highgate. Inside it was a hive of activity with a constant flow of diners and drinkers. I perched at the bar where three beers from the on-site London Brewing Company were available, as well as other options. Seeking a thirst-quencher I opted for the Dark Mild first. It immediately reminded me of what mild is supposed to be: jet black with a big ground coffee aroma it's immensely sinkable and wonderfully refreshing. The flavour offers perfect balance between that coffee roast and chocolate sweetness. At only 3.6% ABV I felt I was doing it a huge disservice by only having a half. I followed it with Beer Street, the 4% ABV bitter. A clear gold, this is very nearly brilliant, starting out with fresh and bitter jaffa oranges but finishing on a nasty soapy note. Every sip brings a zesty celebration followed by a clanking dischord. I don't want my beer to be an emotional rollercoaster. Last of the set was Wheat. 5% ABV and a vaguely hazy gold, I found it sharp and a little vinegary, leaving behind the normal wit-weiss spectrum and veering towards Rodenbach territory. It still manages to keep the sourness under control, however, and has a pleasant soft wheatiness in lieu of any of the fruit or spice normally found in this style.

Journey's end was in Hampstead and a return to The Horseshoe, now no longer a brewpub itself but part of the successful Camden Town Brewery empire. Gentleman's Wit provided an interesting counterpoint to the previous London Brewing effort, but it was the guest beers that took my fancy at The Horseshoe. Windsor & Eton's Guardsman was on cask, a slight twist on normal brown bitter, having some interesting elements of gunpowder and sherbet in the mix, and a trace of TCP as well, I think. Next to it, Dark Star's Winter Meltdown finished the evening on an especially festive note. This red ale is packed with unsubtle cinnamon flavours which only its unctuous warming weight lets it carry off. Not for everyone, but just the perfect beer to unwind over, with my day's work done and no place left to go.

Tapped

"Daddy's taking us to see a model railway" yelped the excited young'un as our train pulled into York. Two rows away I felt a pang of sympathy. Daddy hadn't done his homework. It's a few years since I was last in the city, but even I knew that the model railway in the old station tea rooms had closed and relocated some time ago, replaced by the leather banquettes and dark woodwork of the York Tap. Daddy had this explained to him by the receptionist in the neighbouring Royal York Hotel as I was checking in. I'm sure the family found something fun to do instead, but I wasn't disappointed at all: three days in this fantastically beery English city, staying right next door to the town's top pub for serious beer geekery.

I had been travelling since before 6am, with a pause for the full, salty, Irish at Dublin airport. By noon on the muggy July day I was tired and incredibly thirsty, in need of a pick-me-up. The Tap offers twenty casks plus a dozen or so keg beers. After a full lap of the bar I settled on a pint of Gentleman's Wit, brewed on the remote windswept moors of Camden Town. This arrived as fizzy and hazy as one might expect, a washed-out shade of pale yellow, kicking off with immediate aromas of spiced boiled sweets. One long pull wiped the thirst clean off my palate, the second brought soothing vaporub notes of chamomile and similar herbs. The bergamot with which it's brewed comes later, adding a drier, tannic element. While a boon when the beer is fresh and cold it does introduce an unfortunate soapy aspect to the taste if it's allowed to get warm. But for the first two-thirds, this was exactly what I needed: a super-refreshing quencher which avoids all the pitfalls of wonky witbier: no watery lack of body and no cloying sweetness.


I felt I should pay my respects to the county next, and opted for Ilkley's Mary Jane. It's a golden bitter of 3.5% ABV and my pint showed worrying clumps of yeast lava-lamping around in it. The aroma is quite sickly and sugary while the flavour is unpleasantly sharp and soapier than the foregoing beer. I suspect that I was served the dregs of the barrel but it was hard to imagine what the underlying beer was supposed to taste like, if not this. Still, at a mere £2.70 a pint I wasn't going to start a debate and simply moved on to something I reckoned would have a bit more wallop.

Colorado Red: another Thornbridge-Odell collaboration, 5.9% ABV and "massively hopped". Yes, that'll do. There's a little haze but that doesn't distract even slightly from the gorgeous chestnut red colour. The blurb is a bit of an overstatement, however. No hops, massive or otherwise, are apparent in the aroma, just some light cocoa and turkish delight. There's perhaps a little back-of-throat bitterness in the finish but the centre ground is all creamy milk chocolate plus a touch of the familiar mandarin Odell hops. A welcome upgrading of plain brown bitter, this, but no more than that.

Somebody must have been enjoying it because the Colorado Red was gone soon after, replaced by another from Thornbridge: the inquisitive Wye. The unique selling point of this golden ale is the generous addition of cucumber (in the recipe not in the glass). A dry green vegetal nose starts it off and there's a very clear, crisp, cucumber bite in the flavour, lingering long in the palate and even reasserting itself in cucumber-flavoured burps. Thankfully there's enough lagerish golden-syrup malt to keep it more like a beer than a cucumber alcopop, though once again the hops are lacking.

I finally hit the hop jackpot I'd been seeking with Marble's Lagonda IPA. The aroma is understated but it delivers a massive bitter punch on the first taste followed by an intense flavour of concentrated tinned peaches. Yum. You get a bit of a harsh acidic burn, but it's not unpleasant and the finish is clean: not hanging around oilily on the palate the way some of these intensely hop-forward beers do. When it's gone, it's gone.

I started to hit the law of diminishing returns with the York Tap selection at this point. Kirkstall's Dissolution Rye IPA had some interesting orange and lavender flavours going on and thankfully none of the harsh grassiness that usually puts me right off rye beers. There was no indication that it's all of 6.2% ABV but even odder were the massive yeast clumps that sat in the liquid, suspended as though in jelly. What's up with that?

Blue Monkey's Infinity was quite nice: extremely pale with some sherbet and lots of the mineral qualities I've found in all of their beers. Hambleton Hurdler is a better-than-average brown bitter, buttery with an extra strawberry tartness I enjoyed. Can't say the same for Black Jack First Deal. In fact this brown bitter was almost completely undistinctive.

It was almost as an afterthought on my last session in the Tap that I opted for a bottle of the Export India Porter from The Kernel. Everything they say about it is true: incredibly smooth for a bottled porter with a complex bittersweet flavour profile including dark chocolate and rosewater. I'd go so far as to say it's damn near perfect, as this style goes.

I did venture out from the York Tap on a couple of occasions during the stay. One of these was a bijou pub crawlette  in the company of York resident Ally of Impy Malting fame. We met, perhaps appropriately, in The House of Trembling Madness, a poky attic bar above the best beer shop in town. Tragically the Hardknott Cool Fusion had just run out so I started off on a 7% ABV US-style double IPA from Ilkley called, with appropriate racial sensitivity, The Chief. It's a very hazy orange colour and packed with pleasantly zesty mandarin notes. None of the hop burn I might have expected from something branding itself as this style. Ah well.

Following Steve's advice, I dragged us across the street to The Punch Bowl, now under Nicholson's management and alleged to have a much improved beer offer. Well, it's still a rambling low-ceilinged traditional pub and was quite quiet for an otherwise bustling Thursday evening. John Smith's was still on cask but there was also Cropton's Hawaii 340. I was expecting big Pacific hops in this pale ale but the biscuit malt flavours are dominant. Ally enjoyed it, but it wasn't for me. I think I did better with my XT8, a stout from XT Brewing down in Buckinghamshire. A nicely balanced number this, with quite an intense roastiness offset by full-on liquorice sweets. Predictably, our crawl wound up back at the York Tap. Cucumber beer for all!

My solo adventures in York brought me, of course, to Pivni (rebadged since my last visit) for a swift pint of Fyne Ales Rune. The Scottish masters of pale 'n' 'oppy are at it again here: 3.5% ABV, a very pale gold, and gorgeously, gobsmackingly, bitter. It's waxy and harsh at first but this calms down soon after providing tart raspberries and crab apples. Puckeringly good. I downed it fast enough to leave time for a swift half of something else. From the keg selection I opted for Mary's Maple Porter from the Brooklyn Brewery. It looks the part of a 7.5% ABV porter: a lustrous and silky black. I found it hard going to drink, however, with lots of hot and heavy fruit esters plus cloying milky coffee. It's akin to trying to down a boozy banoffi milkshake, and a half was more than enough.

The Maltings was last on my hitlist, a poky ramshackle boozer just inside the city walls. It was busy but the layout meant I was still able to find myself a quiet corner, just opposite the toilet which some design guru saw fit to install in the room. Stars 'n' Stripes by Rooster was first up, a beautifully clear pale ale of 4.2% ABV. There's a nice balance of grapefruit and bubblegum notes here: pinchingly bitter followed by soft fruit notes like lychee and white grape. It did get a little boring half way down but was eminently sinkable while I thought about what to have next. And that was the beer of the trip: Brasscastle Brewery's York 800 imperial stout. 8% ABV yet only £1.90 for a half. You have to laugh. Under the tan head sits an immensely complex beer, introducing itself with big and tart red fruit notes of cranberry and redcurrant. There's a little touch of putty which suggests oatmeal to me, as does the silky smoothness. Only after swallowing does the dry roast flavour make itself felt. End to end beautiful.

So yeah, not bad beer options in York. Not bad at all.