Sweet sunshine

Summer is about to commence, and that got me thinking of silly fruit concoctions in the sunshine, which then got me out and buying them. Here's what I found.

No idea why, but I don't have a review of Lindemans Kriek up here, though I've definitely had it on multiple occasions over the years. To rectify that: it's a sesh-friendly 3.5% ABV and a beautiful deep blood-red in the glass. Though inescapably sweet, it uses that to leverage a huge red-cherry flavour, full of real-tasting juice and a slight skin bitterness. The frangipane and almond of Bakewell tarts comes immediately to mind, perhaps only by association, but fun nonetheless. A gently cheek-pinching tartness in the finish is the only reminder that geuze is involved here somewhere. This is no frowny-faced connoisseur's beer but an absolute delight in the sunshine. The extreme sweetness of Boon's Kriek made me reticent to try it, but this is a very different proposition, and all the better for it.

Before lambic brewers started getting adventurous with their fruits, kriek's constant companion was raspberry. Lindemans Framboise doesn't have the same domineering and intense raspberry flavour found in most beers that feature it. Instead it's a more perfumed and candy-like affair, owing presumably to the other sweeteners that accompany it. There's still a tartness at the back which I'm assigning to the base beer, not completely smothered by the additions. The overall effect is like a Double Dip sherbet, which is fun. It is, I think, a little too thick as a warm-day refresher, and though the ABV is a barely-there 2.5%, I think the sweetness would get cloying after more than a couple. 

Lindemans Cassis I have definitely never tried before. The ABV returns to 3.5% here, suggesting it's a closer relative of the Kriek than the Framboise, which is good. Someone has thought about this. It's a beautiful beetroot-purple in the glass, with an electric-pink pillow of foam on top. The aroma has a little oaky spice and a dollop of crème de cassis liqueur. The latter comes through strongly in the flavour. I was expecting Ribena but it's much more a classy French aperitif. This tastes of sunny afternoons, especially on a sunny afternoon. Of course it's sweet, but not jarringly so, and that serves to carry the blackcurrant flavour. There's a certain tartness to the fruit too, accentuated by the beer which is presumably in a higher ratio to the syrup. It's lighter than the others, and more of a class act all round.

Completing this set is Lindemans Strawberry. In defiance of consumer law there's no ABV on the bottle but the Internet tells me this is an outlying 4.1%. A clear ruby colour, it smells of concentrated strawberry. There's a reason strawberry isn't one of the core fruit juices and always needs to be cut with something. Here they haven't really, and the result is very cloying. The concentrate tastes so concentrated that's there's a weird cheesy tang on the end that doesn't belong in any beer. There's no sign of any lambic in here. An extreme thickness doesn't help any of this and it was hard work to get through the whole bottle. This one offers the opposite of refreshment.

With the sun still shining, something more local to get the taste out. I still don't know what the base product of "honey refresher" Beekon Batches is, but there's an Elderflower & Lemon one now. It's rather pleasant too. The honey is still the main feature, with a very real-tasting beeswax tang and a certain floral perfume spice, which I'm guessing is the elderflower, not being as sweet as it normally is in drinks. And then the lemon really helps bring the refreshment, in a gin-and-bitter-lemon sort of way. Even though it's basically an alcopop, this is streets ahead of most of what's out there, and more interesting than the other two Beekons. I recommend drinking it very cold, and ice won't do it any harm as it's quite full bodied and decently strong at 5% ABV.

Finally, a return to Belgium for the postscript. Back in 2010 I reviewed Kasteel's Bacchus Kriek, then supplied in a fancy paper-wrapped bottle. Now it comes in cans, of course, and I thought I'd give another version a spin: Bacchus Frambozenbier. This is surprisingly dark in the glass, a serious brown with no trace of pinkness. It smells of ripe and squashy raspberries and is quite full-bodied, though not as syrupy as the kriek was. The modest 5% ABV may have had a hand in that. It's sweet, it's raspberry flavoured, and there's a certain roasted quality too, as though the base is some sort of brown ale or light dubbel. It certainly isn't built for sunshine the way the others are. It's fine, though, if not terribly exciting.

The Cassis from Lindeman's is my standout from this lot. If you're sceptical about the whole genre I recommend giving it a try next time the weather is up to it.

The sweet taste of summer

It's that time of year already when the Porterhouse sets up an eleven-day celebration of Belgian beer across its estate of pubs (well, possibly: I'm not sure if the new Shanghai branch is participating). The draught list isn't exactly brimming with rarities and is a little light on the dark beers, but there's something for everyone I'm sure. There certainly was plenty for me when I went along to the launch on Thursday evening last.

Fruit beers have always featured strongly in the line-up, and this year sees the return once again of quaffable Newton apple, plus the inclusion of house strawberry wheat beer Früli -- both favourites of mine, even if I do only drink a couple of pints of each per year around this time. The fruit newbie is Kriek Boon, and while I'm sure I've had this on many past occasions I've no record of it here other than in a sauce at a Porterhouse gig some years back. The House of Boon, though not quite in the top flight, are one of the better-reputed lambic breweries so I knew this would be good. I was a little surprised at how unsour it was. In that, what sourness the heavy, sticky red beer has comes not from the lambic but from a chewy cherry skin flavour -- a strong, concentrated cherry taste that I liked a lot. There's of course a sweetness to it too, though despite the stickiness, it's not overpowering: fresh and fruity rather than cough mixture sickly. Nicely positioned between the tooth-stripping acidity of Cantillon Kriek and the tooth-rotting sugar of Floris, Boon was a nostalgic reminder of how I ever came to like Belgian fruit beers in the first place.

For those in search of less frivilous Belgian beers, the Porterhouse are offering the strong toffee-banana stylings of Gouden Carolus and the rather astringent St Bernardus Tripel. On the lighter side, they have LeFebvre's Blanche de Bruxelles, a witbier I've seen around in bottled form but never took the time to try. It's a light and zesty affair -- slightly dry and with quite a low carbonation, at least on this draught outing. What separates it from a million other wits is a piquancy on the tail end, a similar sort of incense note that I found in Kiuchi's Classic Ale recently. It's not massively complex, this, but it's always nice to have a simple session beer that's a little bit different from the norm.

The Porterhouse Belgian Beer Festival is on until Sunday. Thanks to Rachel and the team for the launch invite.

Another blog blag

The Porterhouse's annual Belgian Beer festival doesn't kick off officially until this day week, but the grand launch by the Belgian ambassador happened in the Temple Bar branch last night and yours truly was invited along to sample the wares, hassle the management, and generally rip the arse out of their generous hospitality. Again.

Some fairly high concept Belgiany nibbles were rolled out, including mini pots of very authentic stoemp with not-so-authentic cocktail sausages and a Kriek Boon sauce. Gratinated mussels were the highlight for me, though the Früli jelly would have been much more manageable had spoons been supplied. Anyway, we were well fed.

I was quite surprised to see one of the special draughts they've brought in for this is Chimay Blanc. I had been labouring under the impression that Westmalle Dubbel was the only tap Trappist around, but there you go. I don't remember the last time I had this tripel from Scourmont, so it was first on my roster yesterday. I've noted before that Chimay beers tend towards the bitter, and this one is decidedly tart all the way through. It lacks the fruity-spiciness that I like in my tripel, but it's still a big and tasty beer.

Früli is a regular at the Porterhouse and is being brought to the fore for the duration of the festival. I'm a big fan of this the strawberriest of strawberry witbiers. Newton apple wit has made a welcome return and sinks just as easily and deliciously as last year. I didn't go near the Leffe Blonde, a beer I understand InBev Ireland are trying to get into more and more mainstream bars. I'm not especially fond of it, but hey, if it serves as a gateway ale for less adventurous punters, good luck to them. And, strange as it sounds, InBev are still very much the little guy in this country.

The last temporary tap was pouring Delerium Tremens. I've never had this on draught before and found it slightly unsettling. The bottled version has a delicious interplay of flavours going on, but yesterday it was being poured exceedingly cold and it was hard to determine any of that. The carbonation was off too, making it flatter than I would have expected and little bit cloying and difficult. I was back on the Newton after just one.

It would have been nice to have the Westmalle Dubbel in again, just to put a bit of colour into a parade of blonde ales and fruit beers. I also didn't get a chance to examine which, if any, bottled Belgians had been brought in. I'm guessing Hercule Stout is too much to hope for, but if there's anything particularly special in the fridges I'll be sure and let you know. The festival runs until Sunday 27th.

(Thanks to Fiona, Jim and Dave at the Porterhouse for the invitation and conversation. More of this kind of thing, please.)