Do you want anything from the shop?

I was going out to the Mace on the South Circular Road. This modest convenience store with a kick-ass beer selection is possibly the only place in the country you can pick up an Ambrosia rice pudding and a De Molen Rasputin in a single transaction. A request for something strong and dark was proferred before I left the house.

Non-pastry stouts are hard come by these days. I had a choice of six or seven 8%+ ABV dark beers form the fridges but almost all had been "enhanced" with syrups and sugars of various kinds. Only one was unadorned: Jekyll & Hyde, described as a "double stout porter", brewed by Wylam with input from De Molen.

Coffee is the main flavour this is built around. Though it's sweet and gloopy, as befits 9.8% ABV, there's a lot of dry roast and coffee bean oils in the flavour. A dusting of red summer berries lightens it up while the strong and warming alcohol gives it a rich depth and long finish.

I don't know that this is fully up to the excellent standard of either brewery but it's bloody good drinking and great for a random pick from a cornershop shelf. Well played all.

De Molen also made a stout with another northern English brewery, Kirkstall. De Abdij & The Mill was the result, popping up on cask at The Black Sheep before Christmas. Manager Cormac was very keen I give it a try. It's 6% ABV and made with oatmeal, something that really accentuates the smoothness that cask already provides. The flavour is complex without being busy, mixing creamy Galaxy-Bar milk chocolate with a more serious dry and crunchy cereal. Enjoyable as the taste is, it's really the silky texture that makes this beer. Truly nothing shines on cask like a well-made stout.

We succumb to the pastry for the last one. Nightfall is also a collaboration, being an imperial stout brewed by FourPure with input from Brazil's Sunset Brew. It's 9% ABV and the Brazilian influence is manifest in the inclusion of chocolate and coconut in the recipe. There was pretty much no point in photographing it in the dimness of UnderDog as it's very dark indeed. The coconut aroma is massive, and it's concentrated in the flavour too: that almost crunchy effect you get from real coconut flesh. The chocolate is in second position but is definitely pronounced. Would I make the cliché'd comparison to a Bounty bar? Yes, I'm afraid I would because that's how it tastes. Sorry. Best of all, after all that, it simply cleans politely off the palate, not building or growing difficult. I think I could consume quite a lot of this.

This post started out as a sort-of rant against wacky-recipe stouts, but sometimes it's hard not to like them.

The Nether darkness

Ask me about imperial stout in the Netherlands and I'll mention De Molen in the first sentence. Any sane person would. But the thrill of finding great strong dark beers from other Dutch breweries on my recent trip to Utrecht meant I brought a few home from brewers I was less familiar with.

But first this intriguing little number by De Prael in Amsterdam. The tidy little stubby is, I guess, intended to resemble a milk bottle, for it is Tony's Chocolate Milk Stout. This is a modest 4.9% ABV but could pass for lighter, being all about the smooth easy-going sweetness with nothing too upsetting in the way. Light milky chocolate is the beginning and end of the foretaste and this gets complicated only by a touch of light roast afterwards. The creamy texture is fun, and I suspect that's the bit the brewer put most work into achieving: it kinda does taste and feel like chocolate milk. But if I wanted chocolate milk I'd buy chocolate milk. As a stout it's just a bit too sweet and bland.

In Utrecht I had liked what Two Chefs were doing so acquired a bottle of their Dirty Katerina imperial stout. Even though it's brewed in Belgium it has that beautiful blend of freshly ground coffee and sweet juicy summer fruit that I associate with Dutch imperial stout in particular. And despite 10.5% ABV there's a very light touch throughout, with creamy milk chocolate, ripe strawberries and a gently drying bitter tang in the finish. It's very nicely done, to the point where I had to ask which barrels were used to achieve it and then remind myself that it's all straight-up from the fermenter. Lovely stuff.

The second one is Klein Duimpje Imperial Stout, again at 10.5% ABV. It took ages after opening to find out what this tastes like as the carbonation is insanely high, forming an ever-renewing tan head on top of the opaque black body. This is much more, I dunno, mainstream, or something. It's heavy and harsh, drastically plastiky with an abrupt hard dryness in the finish. The middle of the experience is fine, with a light espresso and rye bread dark roast, but the uncouth plastic twang leaps in much too quickly, spoiling everything. The end result is a Dutch imperial stout that leaves me wanting good Dutch imperial stout.

You pays your money and you takes your choice, and in my case you does it pretty much at random. When sifting through what runs past, however, it's worth hitting the occasional Klein Duimpje to get those nuggets of Two Chefs. Or just buy another bottle of De Molen Rasputin and leave me to worry about the rest.

Borefts!

And so we went to Bodegraven, the wife and I, and our fellow Dublin-based beer traveller Derek. We went for the third annual Borefts Bier Festival, a two-day gig at the De Molen brewery featuring an invitation-only roster of brewers from around Europe and a wide selection of serious geek-bait beers. You want it imperial? You want it sour? You want it imperial and sour? This is where you're supposed to be in late September.

Our host was showing off his everso shiny new brewery, a couple of hundred metres down the street from the De Molen windmill, so the festival was set over two locations and a steady traffic of drinkers wandered between them. It was possibly the most civilised beer festival I've ever been at: a diverse crowd from pushchair pushing families all the way up to elderly gentlemen who look liked they were more used to pints and pipes than 100ml glasses but who were having a great time nonetheless. The guy on the left even rolled up on Friday afternoon for a couple of snifters. Food was plentiful, facilities were suitable and no-one got rowdy, unpleasant or any way less than convivial, at least from what I saw.

Like all good beer festivals, it was an opportunity for brewers to show off some new and experimental recipes, and of course De Molen, with a bar at both sites, got stuck right in. Festival Smoked Black IPA was the first of theirs I tried, and I wasn't sure what to make of it really. You get some beautifully zingy fresh peach flavours seriously dirtied up by harsh and phenolic peat notes. Normally I like both of these elements in beer, but together in one glass just tasted wrong. And it looks like Black IPA may have moved on before I've got a proper punt at the style. Oh well.

Top gimmick of the weekend was De Molen Eer & Geweten, an 11% ABV imperial stout, again made especially for the festival. Upon entry, as well as a tasting glass, programme, bottle of water and some beer tokens, everyone was given an entry form on which to guess this beer's mystery ingredient. Finding anything specific in a big imperial stout is a needle-in-a-haystack job. The beer itself was gorgeous, with loads of gooey chocolate overlaid with delicious cherry flavours and a hint of sherry. A slight sourness at the back meant that "plums" went down as my guess. I was wrong and, so it seems, was everyone else. The secret ingredient was later revealed to be aged balsamic vinegar. Perhaps that's where those mild sour notes came from. Stand by for the new wave of balsamic vinegar beers.

Two versions of the deservedly legendary Hel & Verdoemenis imperial stout were on tap. Hel & Verdoemenis 666 Vintage 2011 was one of the overall standout beers for me: infused with 40-year old-cognac soaked out of oak chips. Massively heavy, with the sumptuous thick chocolate almost demanding a churro to be dipped in it. Hel & Verdoemenis MacAllan was less successful: the flavours from the scotch barrel have taken over completely and left next to no stoutiness, unfortunately. Next to it, Rasputin Bruichladdich imperial stout tasted almost bland, but showed much better balance between sweet roasted coffee and slightly woody whisky, all in a lighter and more drinkable package, despite being all of 11.4% ABV.

The Russian theme continues with two versions of Tsarina Esra. Yes, that's another imperial stout. Esra Cognac came out very dry, rather harsh, and unpleasantly spirituous. Wild Esra on Cherries, however, was fantastic. The feral yeast have chomped their way through the high gravity wort leaving an 11% ABV stout with the light body of one less than half its strength. It's beautifully warm and roasty, shot through with puckering sour notes in equal parts from the yeast and the fruit. An amazing symphony of contrasting flavours and an absolute work of art.

Last of the De Molen stouts is Hart & Ziel, a sweet and fruity 11%-er. None of your dark and brooding roasty bitterness here, this is all floral and fruity high notes of raspberries and vanilla with just a smidge of smooth, sweet coffee. Beautiful.

It being Bock season in the Netherlands, De Molen had one out, typically dark red and sticky but with nothing very special about it. The house lager of the moment is an interesting construction: Fresh-Hopped Bohemian is a grainy brewpub pils at heart but has a fantastic bright and clean aroma of lager malt and new hops.

Lastly a couple of pale ales. Bed & Breakfast isn't one to get out of bed for, being slightly oxidised but otherwise uninteresting. Then Amarillo Upgreyde which is nearly too interesting. I first encountered Chris O wandering around the brewery carpark looking a little bewildered by it. My initial impression from its aroma was scented handwipes: there's definitely something a bit cleaning-product about it. It tastes powerfully perfumed, with Earl Grey notes of sweet lemon candy and bitter bergamot. It just didn't sit right with me but my drinking companions were much better disposed towards it.

OK, that's the first of the twelve breweries covered. With cheery thanks to Menno for hosting the gig and brewing some absolute crackers, we move on.

Dutch gold

I left you on a Saturday evening in Amsterdam and I was heading out for 't Arendsnest. Now, Amsterdam has more than its fair share of lovely pubs with great beer lists, but this upstairs bar on Herengracht is my new favourite. Rather than a primarily-Belgian beer list, everything here is Dutch. There's pretty much the full range, from bottles of Grolsch and Bavaria all the way up to whatever's currently good from De Prael or De Molen.

It was with the latter I started: Menno's Rasputin imperial stout. The super-smooth creamy texture is the first thing that struck me here. It makes it very easy to drink, despite the big sticky malty flavours and an intense bitterness totally unlike the acidic hopping of American versions of the style. Herself opted for one that Wildeman had been out of on Thursday: the delightfully-named Skuumkoppe by Texelse. I found this orange wheatbeer quite vapid and dull. It starts with a big sugary flavour but follows it with absolutely nothing. It's always a tragedy when the name provides more entertainment than the beer.

Of necessity, dinner was next, then straight back to the pub. My next was another Dutch stout: Van Vollenhoven Extra. You can read more about the history of this one, and how lucky I was to get hold of it, here. Under the fluffy white head is an easy-going beer with the emphasis on sweet maltiness and perhaps a touch of saccharine. Even though it's a full 7% it tastes much lighter. Simple yet satisfying.

We couldn't leave without trying the house beer, Herengracht 90 Blond. Expecting something plain and made on the cheap -- often the way with contract-brewed house beers -- what poured forth was a spicy, floral, blossomy cloudy orange beer, much more reminiscent of a saison than your bog-standard blonde ale.

It was heart-breaking to have to call it a night, but 't Arendsnest has given me a new reason to visit Amsterdam and I will be back at the next opportunity. The main reason I have for visiting Amsterdam is the beer shopping, and before bed I fitted in another couple from the Cracked Kettle. The proprietor said he was having trouble shifting Mikkeller Jackie Brown, which surprised me. My bottle had just passed its expiry date, but it was still a pretty good beer. Highly complex, it starts with a sweet café crème nose but follows with a surprisingly bitter yeasty flavour before the roasted coffee kicks in leading to a very slight sweetness on the outside edge. Phew. All this happens on a soft velvety mouthfeel which makes it less work to drink than to write about. Shame on you, Cracked Kettle customers.

Last beer of the evening was the final American of the trip, and one which seems to be on special offer all over Amsterdam: Left Hand Milk Stout. I have a certain fondness for this beer. There's really not much to it, but what's there is enjoyable: a slick milky texture, a tiny touch of bitter coffee and we're done. Better not to have a thought-provoking beer at bedtime, right?

After a bit of proper tourism (something we do occasionally, believe it or not) Sunday's drinking started in De Beiaard again. In random pinstick mode, I went for Deugniet, a strong, pale blond ale with a slightly sharp dry greenness to it -- like celery, observed Mrs Beer Nut. I quite liked it, being somewhere between a spicy blonde ale and a low-key tripel. Meanwhile, m'lady was on Dikke Mathile, choosing once more on the silly name factor. This has orange blossom on the nose and a marvellous tannic quality, similar to some of my favourite English bitters, though stronger and sweeter.

We were on our way to Ron's place where we had an invitation to share some of the goodies in his cellar. That's not the kind of invitation one turns down. So, bearing a handful of bottles of decent Irish stout (but no vodka), we arrived in to meet Ron, Dolores and the real stars of Ron's blog, Andrew and Lexie. Among the delights produced from the bowels of Patto Mansions was a tiny nip bottle of Courage Russian Imperial Stout, bottled in 1992. Fascinating it was too -- under a vinous, almost vinegary, nose, there's triple-espresso thick roasted coffee notes. A very civilised after-dinner sipping beer.

Andrew accompanied us to the local boozer, where La Chouffe and jenever were the order of the evening. I did take a bit of ticking time to try Brigand -- yet another strong blonde and one I quite enjoyed, being easy-going, smooth and fruity.

And so, clutching a couple of bottles of Ron's Whitbread recreations, we took our leave. Slightly pissed, it has to be said. And that was nearly it for the trip, though Ron's influence didn't end after we escaped his clutches. Intrigued by his review of Café Krom, we made a point of checking it out before leaving for Schiphol. There in the art deco splendour my last new beer was a Grolsch Oud Bruin. Unfortunately I still haven't found one of these to beat Heineken's. Grolsch's is rather bland. None of the unpleasant big saccharine notes of some oud bruins, but not a whole lot else, sadly.

Final stop before the airport train was De Bierkoning for a last couple of beery bits and pieces, and that was our lot. Thanks again for your very generous hospitality, Ron.

Roll on Copenhagen...