Downsizing flavour

In general, I'm quite well-disposed to the craftification of the English regional breweries. It gave us Shepherd Neame in brown glass bottles and the lovely looking Revisionist range by Marston's. But I was disappointed to see Thwaites brewery being a casualty of the upheaval, shutting down its main operation and effectively becoming a microbrewery, with the main range of beers contracted out, for a while at least. I wasn't the only one to regard it as a poor decision.

The new Thwaites brand has been given the cringeworthy name of "Crafty Dan". There are three in the initial range. The first I tried is 13 Guns, 5.5% ABV: a US-style IPA bragging of "an intense hit of hops". Quite a big promise there. It pours dark amber with very little head and smells pleasantly of grapefruit and toffee. So far so unintense. It's very fizzy, a busy insistent sparkle and despite what the label says, the malt is driving the flavour: fruitcake and sherbet with maybe a little bit of an acidic burn. Even if it wasn't for the outrageous claim on the label I doubt I'd like this much.

Putting that disappointment aside, we turn to Triple C, a golden ale of 5.3% ABV boasting of Chinook, Citra and Centennial "for hop heads only". What could possibly go wrong with that? It's darker than I'd expect from something labelled a golden ale, but that's OK, and even pouring at arm's length I can smell the familiar herbal piquancy of Citra hops. A closer sniff confirms it but adds a distinct underlying whiff of toffeeish crystal malt too. And once again it's the malt in control: caramel and a bit of milk chocolate given little more than a spicing from the high-alpha hops. The flavour profile is probably closer to what you'd expect from an American amber ale, which again is no bad thing, but some distance from the promises made on that label. By the time it warms any way the hops have faded completely.

I took it as a relief that the final one of the set doesn't brag about how hoppy it is. Big Ben is a 5.8% ABV brown ale, and a rather pale one at that, showing distinctly red around the edges. "A bitter-sweet resonance" reads the strapline, and yes, I can detect the presence of a decent amount of hops in the aroma: some bitter citrus is mixed in with the caramel. The carbonation is pleasantly gentle and it's not overwhelmingly sweet or any way sticky. Instead there's a kind of candystore sherbet and fruit chews, with a slightly metallic dryness in the finish being the only grown-up feature. It's a little thin, especially given the strength, but overall it's decently drinkable in the way a brown ale should be.

Viewed from the front, you can't tell these beers come from Thwaites at all. Since none of them have the beatings of, say, Indus or Lancaster Bomber I do hope this all-craft-and-no-trousers model isn't going to be adopted by other English breweries currently turning out beers with not a damn thing wrong with them.

Indus crispy Dancakes

We're Lancashire-bound today, with two beers from Thwaites.

I started with Indus, an IPA. It looked to be pouring a bit flat and it took a bit of coaxing to get a loose-bubbled head to form on the top. It didn't last long. However the beer really benefits from the low carbonation as it creates a wonderful cask-like effect, with just enough sparkle to push the flavours out. Naturally enough, it's hops out front: good honest English varieties by the taste of them, with lots of floral orange blossom laid on quite intensely, creating almost a resinous burn while staying clean and crisp, avoiding all harshness. At 4.6% ABV it's around a percentage point weaker than the likes of White Shield and Bengal Lancer, but I'd regard it as being very much in the same league. The balance of marmalade and toffee you get in the others isn't present here, but the hop punchiness makes up for it for me. Tangy, sinkable and with a lasting bitterness, I really enjoyed it.

I think I only bought the Indus because it was in a four-for-a-tenner deal in my local branch of The Beer Club and what I was really after was the brewery's old ale Old Dan. Dan had a tough act to follow. I was expecting something much darker than this red-amber beer, which proved quite gold around the edges and topped by a pale beige head. The first sniff gave me boozy sherry or calvados and the taste is pure fruitcake: plums, raisins, cherries and a great big glug of alcohol. More than 33cl would be hard to take, I reckon: the flavours and the thick syrupy texture build up on each other until it starts to get quite cloying. As an after dinner liqueur substitute, shared perhaps, it's wonderful.