Grand crew

I ran into the team from distributor Grand Cru Beers on two consecutive nights last month, both occasions based around their role as importer of Californian beer. (They do Colorado as well, but it's nice to switch things up a bit.)

First stop was P. Mac's, packed to the rafters on a Wednesday night, where in a quiet, overlooked, section of the tap array sat Sierra Nevada Elletteria IPA. Grand Cru has been handling Ireland's Sierra Nevada since its earliest days and the guys took the brewery up on an offer to participate in the Beer Camp scheme. Beginning in 2008, Beer Camp is Sierra Nevada's annual invitational brew-a-thon for distributors, competition winners, journalists and anyone else they want to give a go on their kit. Ken from DrinkStore went as part of the delegation and claims primary responsibility for the recipe: a dark red beer of 6.4% ABV and employing rye, green cardamom, roasted orange peel and Frank Zappa (the hop, not the experimental musician). The batch they actually brewed back in spring was discarded and this is a later version, tweaked and blended by the pro brewers at Asheville.

Frank Zappa is a relative of Neomexicanus and I get a strong hint of that pedigree in Elletteria's foretaste: the same crunchy fried onion bits, with a pinch of sharp lime zest. Beyond this the base beer is smooth and full, with a balancing tannic dryness. The low bitterness allows for equilibrium between the savoury and the juicy, and I guess the cardamom and orange are making their own respective contributions there. It's complex, but drinkable enough to put away three pints when someone else is buying. Ahem. There may still be draught samples available in DrinkStore if you happen to be around that way this week.

Another day, another pub, another California-born brewery that outgrew its home state. By which I mean: Lagunitas tap takeover in 57 The Headline. I'm never quite sure where I stand with Lagunitas: there's a tendency towards hot, dense and sweet beers which I'm not into, but there's also a solid stream of zingy west-coast hop-fun running through the range as well. Fingers crossed!

I thought CitruSinensis would be a good bet. It's based on their New DogTown pale ale, which I liked, though with the ABV raised to 7.9% and the inclusion of blood oranges. Neither helps. The end result is a rather rough hazy wheat beer, with a flavour dominated by dreggy yeast fuzz. There's a pithy fruit bitterness just on the finish but it does no more than mark out the space where the hops should be. At least it doesn't taste hot, given the alcohol content.

Something lighter to follow: Censored, at a mere 6.7% ABV. Except this has that classic Lagunitas density. Badged as a "copper ale" it comes across more like a barley wine to me, revelling in a heavy syrupy feel with just an extra-sweet blackberry flavour at the front and a nowhere-near-balancing metallic bitter finish. Tough going, and I wouldn't be rushing to repeat it. A pint of properly balanced Lagunitas IPA followed and was much more enjoyable.

Last beer out was Aunt Sally, described as a "sweet tart sour mash ale". I knew I already had a bottle at home so I didn't bother with notes or photography and just quaffed the beer. The following evening I plucked out my bottle for more considered appreciation.

It's a mildy hazy yellow colour and the bacterial acidity is very apparent from the nose: not quite vinegar, but certainly heading in that direction. The hops are more pronounced in the flavour, blooming outwards after a second or two with mango and pineapple. The sourness is equally distinct: assertively tart, blending with the citrus hops to add a squeeze of lime to the package. It's 5.7% ABV but you'd never know: it's light and very drinkable, all zip and zest. To finish you get a waft of citrus pith and then it's gone. A lovely beer and one I could drink in downright heroic quantities.

Cheers to Grand Cru for the events, and all gratis beers. More sour ones please.

An American weird beer in London

Cheers to Derek for the heads-up that The White Horse in Parson's Green were staging their annual American beer festival on the weekend I was in London last month. It was a scorching hot day and the pub was packed downstairs, with more spillover from the busy Parson's Green Fair than dedicated festival-goers, I'd say. But upstairs was quieter and, most importantly, had the air con on full blast, so was much more civilised.

The first beer to catch my eye on the listing was Flying Dog's Green Tea Imperial Stout. I mean, why is this the first time I've seen one of these? It all seems so obvious. It didn't disappoint when it arrived, either. A typical sticky waft of caramel dominated the aroma and it hit all the sweet roasty notes you would expect from an imperial stout, but right at the heart of it there's a fantastic grassy complexity from the green tea. Rather than the bitter taste you often get from a cup of green tea, it has the aromatic herbal flavour from dry green teabags. I'd say it's pretty tough to get anything subtle boiled into a powerhouse style like imperial stout at 10% ABV, but this works wonderfully well to counteract the heavy stickiness.

IPAs abounded, of course. I took the opportunity to try Lagunitas IPA, a California brewery rarely spoken of in anything other than reverential tones. It (left of picture) arrived a dark orange colour topped by an ivory head. Though I'm assured that the White Horse takes immense pains to source fresh beer for its festival, this seemed to be severely lacking in the hop department, being largely about the toffee. A hint of smoke adds to its character but it did leave me feeling somewhat disappointed.

Next to it is Ska Brewing's Modus Hoperandi: 6.8% ABV and clearer than the Lagunitas, but just as orange. The aroma is properly hoppy: heavy and resinous, with an odd tang of chlorine in it too, for some reason. There's the expected pungency from the hops and obvious toffee as well, but it felt a little brew-by-numbers to me: nothing that separates it from a thousand other very similar American IPAs.

I decided to finish on something a little more local, opting for a Lovibonds Dirty 69 black IPA. Red-brown rather than black and perfumed with some beautifully enticing floral aromas. It's a trap, though: on first sip the bitterness kicks in, delivering an almost burning harsh smack. The bad cop is followed quickly by the good one: some softer and sweeter rosewater and lavender candy, but it doesn't last long and the finish is uncompromisingly bitter. I'm sure it has its fans, but just too bitter for my tastes.

While I'm on the subject of UK-brewed US-style beers, at the JD Wetherspoon in Gatwick I lucked out by finding Firestone Walker American Independence on cask. This was put together by Matt Brynildson of California's Firestone Walker at the Adnams brewery in Suffolk. It's 5% ABV, so nicely quaffable -- a late call for the flight allowed time for two in quick succession. It's another rich dark orange affair, heavily textured with tangy pithiness to the fore in its flavour and lots of resinous dank. Marijuana marmalade: what's not to like? A satisfying jaffa sweetness finishes it off. I've had some absolute stinkers at the Gatwick Wetherspoon in the past but this really would have taken the edge off a long delay.

Further support here, perhaps, for Alex's thesis that making great beer locally trumps fancy imports almost every time. The UK just needs to get its green tea imperial stout on the go.