Eco-illogical

I was a little disheartened when organic beers was chosen as this month's Session topic. I've had quite a few organic beers over the course of this blog and very few have been memorable. To the best of my knowledge, Ireland has only ever produced one organic beer: a lager in Celtic Brew's late Finian's range. I don't remember much about how it tasted, just that it was gassy as hell and a bugger to pour. There are some real stinkers from Britain, like Honey Dew, Whitstable Bay and Lomond Gold, though redemption comes in the form of St Peter's Best and a number of beers from the Marble Brewery in Manchester.

New Zealand's Green Man Bitter stands out as the first organic beer I tried and actually liked. It seems that most of the organic hops we get in these parts come from Down Under and this beer uses them in spades. New Zealand also provides the green for the beer I'm actually reviewing for this Session: Broughton's Angel Lager -- not something I'd be running to try normally, but the only organic beer I could find that I hadn't already tried.

Leaving prejudice and apprehension aside, I'm rather enjoying it. It's a dark gold colour and every bit as crisp and dry as one would expect this style to be. There's plenty more, however: a heavy aley body for a start, and an interesting hoppy spice which leans towards a mediciney bitterness. This runs in parallel with some sweet malt and diacetyl butterscotch notes. There's a lot to this, which is always good to find in a pale lager, not to mention in an organic beer

All that said, I have to wonder what the point of the organicness is. There's nothing in the flavour that couldn't be achieved with non-organic ingredients and I can't help thinking Mother Earth would prefer us to use chemically enhanced Hallertau from local German farms instead of flying nature's own from the other side of the world. The overall environmental benefits of most of the organic beers we get is questionable.

If it's not going to save the world and doesn't taste any better, why are we doing organic beer? Could it be that the Soil Association badge is just another marketing gimmick to appeal to a certain sort of drinker?

Kwak goes the Bishop

When I was a nipper my parents would buy The Sunday Times every week. I remember being fascinated by the ads for exotic beers only available in Britain. One of these was something called Bishop's Finger. I'm fairly sure that I bought some the first time I saw it on sale in Ireland, but that was long ago. The Bull & Castle Beerhall Challenge brought it my way again and I confess to having no memory of what it's like. What it's like is bitter -- loads and loads of hops, backed-up by a caramel sugar sweetness. It's not bittersweet; it's bitter and sweet completely separately. Whether the double taste sensation is your kind of thing is up to yourself. It was a bit too much for me. I was much more impressed by another Shepherd Neame brew: the blue-label 1698. This is a much mellower affair, sweet and fruity and artfully constructed. I'd take this one over anything else made by Shepherd Neame. I've already mentioned their lacklustre Spitfire, and of course they make an organic ale, called Whitstable Bay. Once again, it's a disappointing organic: slight, verging on bland, with only a hint of the caramel and hops of the Big Finger. Its green credentials are also compromised by the fact that the hops are flown all the way to Kent from New Zealand. Who buys this stuff?

Another turn-up for the challenge sheet was Kwak. Everybody whose familarity with Belgian beer goes beyond Stella must be aware of the one served in the silly flask in the wooden frame. I had a memory of it being just that bit too heavy to enjoy, but I think my tastes have changed since I last had it. Kwak is one of the lightest beers in the "liquid bread" category: dark, sweet, chewy and quite delicious. I won't be so dismissive next time I see it.

I must say I'm really enjoying being forced to drink beer I'd never normally order. Coming up is one Goose Island IPA,which has been described by ICB members and the Bull & Castle management in the sort of terms that felines might describe catnip. To say I'm intrigued is an understatement...