Back to the pub

Normality comes dropping slow. I haven't exactly been rushing back to the pub since they began re-opening, though it's been nice to return to The Porterhouse and 57 the Headline on occasion. One evening in late August I found myself in one of my locals for the first time in a couple of years, and got a bit of a look at the post-pandemic landscape of normal pubs.

I had seen branding for Madrí Excepcional in a few places around town. This Spanish lager has been newly introduced by Molson Coors, perhaps to add a classy side to their portfolio which neither Molson Canadian nor Archway was giving them. Interestingly, it's presented as a "collaboration" with the parent brewery LA SAGRA (why the shouting?), suggesting it's not actually brewed there.

What do you get if the branding appeals and you order a pint? It's clear and an appropriately rich golden colour, so full marks for the visuals. Less so for the taste: I got a substantial whack of diacetyl from this, the buttery taste matched with a slick and greasy texture. And that's pretty much it: there's a lightly crisp biscuity malt base but no hop character to speak of. I'm not especially diacetyl-averse so I wouldn't consider this spoiled, but it's not impressive. If it makes you feel part of a more Mediterranean drinking culture, then I wish you the joy of that, but I can't think of any other reason to buy it.

And then there's Island's Edge. There has been much online commentary about this new stout from Heineken — the company which already brews two of Ireland's three biggest-selling stouts — from the name which clearly came from a very short brainstorming session where "Rockshore" was written on the whiteboard, to the downright offensive claim that the stout sector in Ireland is stagnant and un-innovative. The supposed innovation here comes from the inclusion of basil and tea in the recipe. Heineken had a shortlived tea-flavoured stout on the market a couple of years ago — Kettle Brew — but it disappeared before I got the chance to try it. I guess this is the next phase in that project. So what's it like?

Well, first of all it's a nitrokeg stout, and only 4% ABV so I wasn't expecting a wow-factor from the taste. The brewery has stated that it wants to attract new drinkers by dialling back the bitterness, and that made it extra unlikely that we would end up as friends. There is a pleasant creamy chocolate element here, and the novel ingredients are manifest as a kind of dry leafiness. It seems that when you combine black tea and basil you end up with something that tastes of green tea, which probably shouldn't be surprising. This builds to become a concentrated cabbage effect by the end. It's not a good stout. Although it isn't thin, and it's bland enough so that the odd flavours aren't jarring, it's missing the elements that make session stout worthwhile. No roast, no bitterness; no point, frankly. As with a lot of new-release industrial beers I can see it being a distress purchase for me for a while, until the novelty wears off, if it lasts that long. I don't see what it offers drinkers of the established big stout brands, or the stout-curious, however. 

And that's why I tend to stick to the pubs where they serve the beer I like.

All beers to all people

I mentioned in passing recently that Molson Coors's operations in Ireland seem to be ramping up somewhat, after three of years of light-touch beer distribution. It really hit home in the weeks that followed and as a result I've ended up with three sets of free samples from the company, which I guess represent three aspects of the Irish beer market.

The PR firm charged with promoting it all sent me a six-pack of their new lager Molson Canadian. From the full-spectrum advertising it's getting this appears to be pitched squarely at the mainstream drinker, a segment in Ireland which seems already to be at saturation point with beers such as Bud, Coors Light (licensed to Heineken), Miller, Carlsberg, Stella, Beck's Vier and Heineken itself, the brand leader. It's a little strange that they figured there was room for another, but there you go. The accompanying marketing material says Ireland is the first territory outside Canada to get Canadian, while the packaging says it's brewed in the UK. It seems unlikely that they're making it across the water just for us, so presumably there are plans to put it on the British market too at some point.

Unusually for this sort of beer it's a mere 4% ABV: 4.3% is the normal strength for these, demanded by the Irish market to such an extent that AB-InBev brew a special version of Beck's Vier at this ABV just for us. I welcome more lower strength beers, but it still seems kinda risky to me. Pouring revealed a pale gold lager topped by a healthy fluffy froth. It must also have knocked quite a bit of the gas out as it was beautifully smooth on the first sip, and nicely sweet too, akin to the better class of Munich helles, with a hint of dry grain husk. It all unravelled pretty quickly after that, however. The sweetness unfolds into a nasty sweetcorn flavour and is joined by a horrible metallic saccharine tang where the hop bitterness ought to be. By the third mouthful, that metal was all I could taste and only the low carbonation stopped it from being completely undrinkable. Quality pilsner it most definitely isn't.

For the casual drinker of "craft" beers, yet another seasonal from Blue Moon, this one called Valencia Grove Amber. The name suggests someone thought that what Blue Moon needed was more orange, but it's actually got less of a sticky fruit thing than usual. Instead the amber malt flavour is to the fore: an intensely sugary biscuit character that builds as it goes down with no hop bitterness or yeast spices to balance it. The finish is a dusty, musty burlap with possibly a vein of coconut through it. 5.9% ABV would suggest a heavy beer but it's not really, and the residual dark sugars reminded me of the sort of effect you get with England's less pleasant heavy brown bitters. Whoever this is aimed at, it ain't me.

It's hard to know whether to take the final two beers seriously or not. They come from a genuine small brewery -- Sharp's of Cornwall -- are of robust and flavoursome styles and are presented in very sober wrappings with thin san serif text and a graphic of the brewer's signature. But then they also arrived with a matching branded bar of chocolate each.

I opened the Honey Spice Tripel first. It's one of those beers that magically transports me straight back to Belgium on the first sip: that beautiful yeast-derived spicy warmth is present from the outset. There's a lovely honey perfume in the aroma and it drinks smoothly, without too much spicing or heat, despite a whopping 10% ABV. The flavour tails off quite quickly, however, leaving a kind of lagerish watery fizz on the end. Not very complex, but tripel doesn't necessarily need to be. Perhaps a bite of the lemon meringue white chocolate would open it out. Nope! The chocolate is delicious but massively overpowers everything else. The intense sugar and lemon zest completely coats the palate and it's impossible to taste anything through it. I began to worry if I'd ever experience another flavour again, and ended up using the remains of the tripel to try and wash it off. When that didn't work I reached for the water biscuits. Lovely chocolate, but not a match for beer or anything else.

To the Quadrupel Ale next, a reddish brown beer, so a little pale for the style, I think. It's also 10% ABV. The aroma is quite, quite beautiful: fresh C-hops in abundance giving an amazing mango and sherbet effect, like the best American amber ales. This is not a beer for aging. It tastes powerfully fruity, full of prunes in particular, but with elements of dates, figs and similar dark chewy loveliness. After a few sips I began to find the sweetness a little bit jarring but the peachy hop echo in the aftertaste makes it worthwhile. The chocolate is a 70% cocoa dark one and is a stroke of pairing genius: the bitterness counteracts the sweet malt perfectly, without interfering with the hops and actually helps clear the palate, something chocolate is not normally known for. With the prunes subdued, the more vinous qualities of the beer come out and I begin to see why the marketing bumf suggests this as an alternative to port as a digestif.

Molson Coors may not be supplying the best beers on the Irish market, but they certainly can't be faulted on the variety.