Showing posts with label st peter's mild. Show all posts
Showing posts with label st peter's mild. Show all posts

03 November 2017

Mild enthusiasm

Session logoEoghan at the Brussels Beer City blog hosts November's session, on the intriguing subject of missing local beer styles: the kinds of beers you'd like to be able to get your hands on regularly but can't. As a man of simple drinking tastes, I tend not to pine for beers that aren't available to me. If you find your hobby is making you miserable it's time to find a new hobby. But when a local brewer asks, as they do from time to time, "what kind of beer will we brew?", my answer is generally "cask mild".

Admittedly it's not the most exciting of beer styles, but then it's not meant to be. A good mild is light and easily gluggable yet has a colourful bouquet of flavours. It's the sort of beer you can choose when you just want a beer without thinking about it, though one which is in no way bland or insipid. I'd love to see it in regular rotation in Ireland, but we rarely do -- Dungarvan Brewing deserving an honourable mention for occasionally dabbling.

Naturally, after all the nagging to get a new Irish mild onto the bar, when Trouble Brewing finally stepped up to the challenge I was out of the country. I watched on Twitter as Walk On The Mild Side landed in at UnderDog and was promptly drained by the masses in just a couple of days. I thought I'd missed the boat until the brewery mentioned that The Black Sheep still has some left. Hello!

It was true; they had. Saved by the 10% mark-up compared to UnderDog's pricing, perhaps, but €5.50 is still quite sessionable for Dublin these days. Full marks for appearance (black) and ABV (3.7%): all in accordance with my own personal mild style guidelines which, to be honest, is really just St. Peter's Mild.

The aroma is very roasty, almost to the point of being acrid, which put me on guard immediately. That was largely assuaged by the first sip, which had sweet milk chocolate and caramel as its main feature. A jammy blackcurrant flavour follows this, and only then does the roast reassert itself: a dry charcoal burntness that grows quickly and lasts long into the finish. A little too long, really: this tarry acridity in the taste was the only part I didn't like. Nevertheless, despite my preference for more fresh coffee and dark fruit characteristics, this mild still does what I'm looking for. The body is full enough for it to be satisfying and easy drinking yet the flavour is pleasingly multifaceted.

This beer really underlined my desire to have something like it popping up on a regular basis from a variety of producers. By coincidence, a cask of West Kerry's superb Uncle Columb's Mild was hooked up to the handpump at UnderDog on Tuesday and last I checked was still on. Two simultaneous Irish milds available in Dublin might not exactly qualify as a golden age, but by golly I'll take it. More please!

08 September 2007

London (not) for beginners

It's 3.30 yesterday afternoon. I've just come out of a meeting in Camden, north London and have arranged with a colleague to meet at Paddington Station at 5 for the train back to Heathrow. At Camden Town tube station I discover that the Northern line is severely disrupted and all service on the Circle and Hammersmith & City lines has been suspended. The question: have I time for a quick pint of St. Peter's excellent cask ale at the Jerusalem Tavern in Clerkenwell?
'Course I have.

Had I not been navigating on the hoof I'd have hopped out at Euston, walked to Euston Square, and taken the Metropolitan line to Farringdon. I didn't spot this easy option, however, and opted instead to leg it from Euston, across Bloomsbury, past Gray's Inn field and into Clerkenwell.

I arrived at the Jerusalem in Britton Street at 4.15. It's a strange, simple little pub, furnished in rickety wood and giving the appearance of being held together by paint and varnish. The taps on the bar serve Bitburger and Aspall's cider. Behind it, however, a row of spigots promise beers from the pub's parent brewery: St. Peter's in Suffolk. Though tempted to order something I know, and compare its cask and bottled incarnations, I went instead for a pint of mild, a beer style which is nigh-on impossible to find here at home. St. Peter's Mild is very dark, with a thick creamy head. The taste is indeed mild, offering subtle coffee and roasted grain notes.

As I sunk my mild, I consulted my map and figured that I'd be able to take a much shorter route back to Paddington: from Farringdon, changing at Baker Street. And that meant I had time for another pint. This time I went for St. Peter's Grapefruit beer, having read good things about it, and to find out how the wizards of Bungay do fruit beer. More than anything, it reminded me of Früli. It doesn't look like it, taste like it, smell like it or feel like it, but it has a similar beer-fruit relationship, with the fruit definitely wearing the trousers. It's clear, almost headless, a deep red-gold colour and tastes overwhelmingly of real grapefruit. Marvellously refreshing and innovative.

At this point I took my leave and was back at Paddington at the appointed hour. We arrived at Heathrow with time to spare. Anyone who flies at all regularly between Ireland and Heathrow will be very familiar with the complex of metal tubes housing gates 80 to 90 of Terminal 1, affectionately known as "The Paddyshack". Time was, the Paddyshack Wetherspoons had Theakstons on draught and the last couple of pints at the airport was something I always looked forward to. Alas those days are gone, and it's necessary to drink landside in order to get anything better than Heineken these days. Armed with this knowledge I led us to the main landside Wetherspoons, where the handpumps were pouring Schiehallion, Marston's Pedigree, Bombardier and Deuchars IPA. The last of these was the only stranger to me, so that's where I started. I was disappointed from the first sip. This is a rather bland affair, lacking the hoppy citrusy warmth one expects from British IPA. Instead, it's creamy and smooth with only the fainest hop character at the very back.

Having polished that off I should really have opted for a Schiehallion, knowing that I really like it. Instead, I decided to give a dull beer a second chance. Having been disappointed with bottled Marston's Pedigree, I tried a draught pint and found it to be exactly the same forgettable sensation. Marston's should be proud that their bottling process manages to reproduce the cask experience perfectly. If only it were an experience worth having...