White Russian

Number 8 in the Baltika series was not a beer I had seen before, so naturally I had to buy it and try it. It is the Russian brewery's wheat beer, and is unfiltered and cloudy with a fair bit of yeasty sediment in the bottle. Tastewise it tries to emulate its German rivals, and comes closest to Franziskaner. The sediment makes it a more bitter experience, though, lending overtones almost reminiscent of a northern European witbier, but not quite. Falling between these two stools, I can't imagine that anyone would prefer this slightly rough Russian to its more refined western neighbours.

For the day that's in it

The supermarkets have knocked a few cent off the price of the Carlow Brewing Company's three beers, so I thought a reappraisal was in order.

O'Hara's is their stout: a straightforward, easy drinking, traditional black beer with no fancy texture or flavour. It's quite pleasant and refreshing for all that, very much a pint of plain and your only man.

Moling's red ale is the best of three, and a contender for Ireland's best ale now that Revolution is sadly out of the picture. It has a caramel-candy sweetness coupled with a mild smokiness adding up to a complex and interesting flavour that keeps you turning it over on your palate the whole glass through. Porterhouse Red probably still has the edge on it, but in the take-home stakes, Moling's is the bottle to beat.

Finally, Curim Gold is the brewery's wheat-beer-in-place-of-a-lager. It certainly is gold: a deep amber hue and slightly cloudy. Like its red brother, Curim has a complex taste, with hoppy bitterness to the fore, but tempered by a soft wheat flavour. It's a little bit cloying, and therefore maybe not the best session beer, but ideal as an accompaniment to spicy food.

So that's the round-up. Support your local small brewery and happy St. Patrick's Day.

Ale and Arty

On a recent trip to the UK I conducted a selective raid on Sainsbury's and came away with three new finds:
Theakston's Old Peculier is a familiar name, but I hadn't actually tasted it before. I'm a big fan of the normal Theakston's and was very interested in trying the premium product. It's very good and has the wonderful round warmness of England's best ales.
Duchy Original is a bit of a gimmick: an organic ale made with ingredients which may (or may not) have come from the Prince of Wales' Highgrove estate. The label is striking and of a very high quality. The beer, alas, is not. When it comes down to drinking, this is a very ordinary bitter. I'm generally in favour of organic produce on principle, but I have yet to encounter an organic beer which is better than its non-organic competitors: sad but true.
Lastly, Meantime Chocolate from the Greenwich Brewery comes in an interesting ship's-decanter-style bottle and, as the name suggests, is a chocolate beer. It's not a stout, though. It's a strong ale with an equally strong concentrated chocolate flavour - rich and bitter, with coffee overtones. Not something one would get through lots of, but an interesting variation on the usual chocolate theme.

A new meaning of "finest"

New in Tesco's Finest range of premium own-brand groceries is their French Wheat Beer, which comes in a wonderfully continental 750ml bottle, just like Hoegaarden. That's where the comparisons end though: it's awful. Incredibly bitter and dry, it lacks any of the witbier zest and fruitiness, and at €4 a bottle, it's really not that much cheaper than the branded beers. Avoid.

Suckin' Diesel

Never one to pass up a bargain, no matter how suspicious, I chanced across American Diesel Lager Beer on sale in Whelan's for the princely sum of 50c for a 33cl bottle. It's a light, red beer, a mere 4.2%, and quite easy-going with it. Sure, it lacks a strong flavour or distinctive character, but it retains that caramel sweetness of better central European dark beers which is rather pleasant. Not a classic, but still a cut above any number of American lagers in the light refreshment stakes.

Another, quite different, recent discovery is Piraat: a golden Belgian ale, in the style of Duvel. It lacks the harsh dryness of Duvel however, and is rather more fun and fruity on the palate. All this and stronger too. Worth checking out if you like that sort of thing, and if you can find it.

Sinking the Lusitanians

I began 2006 in Lisbon, where the beer scene is dominated by two giant brands: Superbock and Sagres. The former is slightly more high-profile, and makes three main beers. The basic Superbock is a fizzy lager made with extra glucose to bring the alcohol content up to a whopping 5.6%. This unfortunately gives it the thick sugary special-brew taste which is a little off-putting in an otherwise decent lager. Superbock Stout is also made with extra sugar, making it very sweet and quite flat, almost reminiscent of the Guinness Foreign Extra stout, but not quite as good. Finally, Superbock Green is a light, sparkly, lemon-flavoured summer beer - Hoegaarden meets Lemsip. It is a mere 4% alcohol and very easy to drink: doubtless marvellously refreshing on hot days.

In competition, Sagres's plain lager is drier and hoppier than Superbock's, but lacks the oomph of its rival. Instead of a stout, there is Sagres Preta - a deep, dark, smoky ale with a powerful bock flavour: quite delicious. There's also Bohemia, a warm red ale, smooth and easy-going despite a strength of 6.5%. My only criticism is that it's a little too smooth and could use a fuller flavour. Finally, Sagres sell a straw-coloured party lager called Imperial, which comes in 330ml bottles with a funky label. It tastes of almost nothing.

And so to the micro end of things. Until recently, the excellent Frog chain of brewpubs had a Lisbon branch advertised on their web site. Then it disappeared. I assumed it had closed down, but went along to the address anyway in the hope that the good work was being continued under a new brand. There, to my surprise, stood the Frog at Expo brewpub, completely as was, advertising the full range of homemade beers. Inside it was a different story, however: no Frog beers were actually on tap, leading me to suspect that the Frog chain has left the business but the new owners haven't bothered rebranding yet, and that microbrewed beer is not in the business plan. Disappointing, but there you go. Nearby at Parc das Nacoes is the only working brewpub I found in Lisbon: República da Cerveja. It's quite a pleasant, modern, bar and restaurant. The blackboard selection of beers was impressive, but only two were actually on tap on the day. Artesanal is quite a dull fizzy lager, a little drier than Superbock but really not very different. Natal is the Christmas ale which had the requisite strength and deep colour, but was served too cold and lacked flavour. Nice pub, shame about the beers.

Given that Lisbon is in southern Europe, with a thriving high-quality wine industry, I think I did quite well on the beer front to find such variety. The fondness for dark ales and stouts was certainly a pleasant surprise, as was finding a large bottle of Chimay Bleu for less than €6 in a supermarket. Nevertheless, I wouldn't count Portugal as one of the places one goes for the beer.

Lemony? Nicked it.

Down at Kronenbourg HQ they appear to have been sitting around a bottle of Hoegaarden, attempting to dissect it and find out what makes it tick. The result of their endeavours is Kronenbourg 1664 Blanc. It is paler than Hoegaarden, being a very light greenish hue. It tastes overwhelmingly of lemons. I know lemons and witbier have a long history, and that finding a slice floating in the froth is quite normal in bars across Europe, but I shudder to think what would happened if you added actual lemon to Kronenbourg Blanc. Probably some kind critical lemon mass and a zesty implosion. Suffice it to say that I don't intend to find out. More spice and less lemon would have improved this recipe. Mine's still a Hoegaarden.