The call of duty

Any student of British beer history can tell you loads about the direct effect of taxation on the contents of people's pint glasses. All of us on these islands still live in the shadow of the Great Gravity Drop of 1917, after all. Most recently I've been interested by Ron's theory that war hasn't had the same lasting effect on our beery continental brethren because they've tended to enshrine beer styles and strengths in law, and still do in the likes of Germany and the Czech Republic.

It's not always about war, however. Brewers seldom see anything wrong with a bit of profiteering in peacetime too, should the opportunity arise, and so it is with the new 2.8% ABV tax band that offers a halving of excise duty for beers brewed below it. The late Minister Lenihan introduced this in 2008 "to encourage the safer use of alcohol and to make a contribution over time to reducing death and injury on our roads". Since then, not a single new sub-2.8% ABV beer has been brought to market by any of our brewers, meaning the only real effect of the law has been to boost the profits made by British multinational Diageo on their pre-existing golf club editions of Carlsberg and Guinness.

It's a different story in the UK, however, where the same rate has applied only since late last year yet breweries -- reputable and otherwise -- have been falling over themselves to create product that fits. I offer no comment on the reputation of Manchester's JW Lees brewery, but their Brewer's Dark is one from their back catalogue that has been adapted to dodge the exciseman, knocked down to 2.8 from the former lofty heights of 3.5% ABV, whence I tasted it a couple of years ago. I don't know how much of the difference is down to the carbonation method, but I'm getting none of the rich chocolate creaminess of the cask version from this new bottle. There's still a lovely roast bite, however, making it a deliciously refreshing dark quaffing beer. Light, without being watery, thin or dull. Yes, we could do with something in this style over here.

We're not stuck for 4.x% stouts, however, though I was still interested to see Fuller's of London launched a new one last year. This was followed by disappointment when I couldn't get any on a trip to their home turf in April. But, resilient as ever, I tracked down a bottle in Dublin and here it is. 4.5% ABV, so a teeny bit stronger than the draught version they had out as a seasonal last November.

They've gone all-out for density here: almost totally opaque black with a thick dollop of off-white head and a smooth weightiness. The flavour is unusual, showing a little of the unctuous caramel I associate more with stouts in the 6%+ bracket, a distinct dark chocolate dryness and then a bitter hop tang on the end which calls Porterhouse Wrassler's XXXX to mind. Comparisons with London Porter are inevitable and I don't think Black Cab is as well-rounded. Still, there's definitely something different here for the seen-it-all stout drinker, I reckon.

That'll be £18 please, mate.

Red and dead

As I mentioned, I had a particular aim in mind when I went looking for my first pint in England at the weekend, and it was to try the enigma that is Guinness Red. Diageo brew this in St James's Gate but export all of it to Britain where it is currently being trialled, primarily through the O'Neill's chain of franchise Oirish pubs. I was intrigued by the way it was being marketed, as a tweaked version of Guinness stout, utilising "lightly roasted" barley, rather than what it looks like: your standard nitrogenated Irish red, like Diageo's own Kilkenny or Coors's English-made Caffrey's brand.

The verdict? Well, it has a thicker, creamier head than any pint of Guinness I've met. It tastes of almost literally nothing. Guinness is pretty far from being the world's most flavoursome stout, but this dispenses with even the faintest trace of the dry roasted barley which sits shivering at the back of modern draught Guinness. What would happen at this point in an Irish red is the arrival of sweet, biscuit-like crystal malt flavours, with maybe a dusting of summer fruits, but no, there's none of that either. Just more empty space, and maybe just a hint of dryness at the end. A dry Irish red? Whoever thought of that one needs locking up.

Funnily enough, like Guinness Mid-Strength, Red does have all the texture characteristics of ordinary Guinness. If you've had your senses of taste and smell removed then you might even enjoy this one. Though since you probably work in product development for Diageo, you've doubtless already tried it.

Back to the original question, then, and it's not as clear-cut as I thought. The mouthfeel and the nearly-not-there dryness do suggest that this could be classed as a super-light stout, though a dreadful one. Alternatively, a dry take on the traditional Irish red is another valid perspective. I won't be lying awake thinking about it. The knowledge that this tasteless travesty is being shipped out of the country in its entirety will assure restful sleep.

How to classify a beer with no flavour. Have the BJCP thought about this one?

Black and white contrast

I feel it is beholden on me to report on anything new coming from Ireland's brewers, no matter how awful I know the beer is going to be in advance. Sometimes I might be wrong, though usually not, but the important thing is to know. So it was that I found myself yesterday in the back room of classic Dublin pub Doheny & Nesbitt contemplating a pint of Guinness Mid-Strength, currently being tried out on the Dublin market. Guess what: it's awful. The idea is to have something that looks and tastes like Guinness stout, but with one-third less alcohol. The lab has got the texture right: this is your normal creamy pint of Guinness, but what little beer flavour Guinness has has been removed, making it almost completely tasteless. I say "almost" because I detected a slight chemical sourness, which may just have been from a bad pint, though I'm not sure. It's almost like the brewers achieved their objective by adding two parts Guinness to one part (dodgy) water. I hope at the end of the trial Guinness Mid-Strength is found guilty and put away forever.

Not so much to get the taste out of my mouth as to get some in, I went across to Messrs Maguire for a pint of their Plain. This is such a total contrast, being awash with delicious stout flavours. The first sip dumps about half a kilo of malt on your palate, with an inherent sweetness and a touch of chocolate. Just as you get used to that there's a rising, astringent bitterness that takes a few seconds to gain control. Repeat to the end of the pint. It doesn't have the heavy creamy stout texture that most Irish craft brewers go for, trying to ape the big boys: Messrs Maguire save that for their Extra stout. Instead, this is a teensy bit thin, but more than makes up in flavour what it lacks in mouthfeel. An extreme Irish stout and anything but plain.