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.

Brrr

Recently I was braving the Christmas shopping crowds on a weekend afternoon in Dublin. Having acquired most of what I was looking for, with the evening closing in, I stopped off in a city centre hostelry for a refreshment before heading home. Sitting over my pint of stout I lamented that Ireland lacks the seasonal winter beers that civilised countries produce. What I wanted was a small glass of something deep and rich and red, but what I ended up with was a pint of plain.

Never fear, however: Maguire's to the rescue! The current seasonal beer at the Burgh Quay brewpub is called Jul-Ól, and is a wonderfully dark (almost black) winter ale. Perfect for an early evening tipple this time of year.

With my taste for winter beers awakened, I revisited the produce of Weltenburger-Kloster, this time their Winter Traum ale. It's an excellent rich aromatic beer, and full-flavoured as long as it isn't served too cold.

Tradition schmadition

I'm all in favour of screwing with tradition for the hell of it. It makes the world a more interesting and diverse place. So I was amused when I saw that La Trappe, not content with the usual dubbel and tripel styles of Trappist beer, also make a "Quadruple". For all the iconoclasm of the name, however, it's a fairly normal strong, dark Trappist ale, weighing in at a fairly hefty 10.9%. It remains drinkable despite this and is chock-full of varied fruit flavours. Nice for a change from the Belgian norm.

Knock-offs and Knock-offs

Currently on the shelves in Dunnes we have BB Bürgerbräu, a Czech lager from České Budějovice (formerly Budweis). It makes it quite clear on the label that it is a real Budweiser beer, and that this is now an EU-protected geographical designation, à la Champagne and Stilton.

However, for all its concerns that a big nasty American corporation has stolen its intellectual property, Bürgerbräu still has the feel of a cheap knock-off, of Budvar. It has the deep rich golden-syrup colour of Budvar, and does a fairly good impression of that full malty Czech taste. But it doesn't quite go all the way to perfection, lacking the smooth drinkability of Budvar. I think I'd pay the extra to trade up.

Fair play, however, for the game attempt to take back the Budweiser designation. I notice a few new Bohemian lagers around in Ireland these days. Here's hoping they can turn this geographical designation issue into a real campaign.

Pelgrim's prowess

Rotterdam was the destination last weekend. I made a beeline for the city's only brewery, Stadsbrouwerij De Pelgrim. It is a brewpub and restaurant in picturesque Delfshaven, taking its name from the Pilgrim Fathers who left from the church next door to travel to America. I'm sure the thought of a brewery on the spot would thrill them no end. They do five beers, though the house witbier was off when I paid a visit. Their blond is in the Belgian abbey-style, quite similar to Leffe, though it is stronger and has a crisp bitterness that shows it is handmade rather than mass produced. Mayflower Tripel is again aping a Belgian original, and doing a very good job of it too: it is strong and cloudy and very satisfying. Much rougher round the edges than a Trappist tripel and better for it. The last of the regulars is Stoombier. It is a red ale, lighter than anything else on tap (5%) and I found it quite plain. There is a subtle hint of fruit somewhere in the flavour, but it's barely noticeable. Lastly, Pelgrim always has a seasonal beer (Seizoensbieren) available. Autumn is bock season, and the Pelgrim Bock is a classic: full of sweet treacle with a slight, but not overpowering, taste of burnt caramel.

Bock season extends beyond the microbrewery, and each of the big brewers produce one. Amstel's is pretty easy-going, lacking the bombastic caramel sweetness of its rivals, but gaining drinkability in exchange. Heineken's is quite burnt tasting, but with enough sugar for it to remain pleasant, similarly Grolsch's. Hertog Jan's bock is a rich red colour, rather than brown, and especially heavy and sticky.

Two other beers from the weekend of note: Wieckse witbier is the commonest witbier in Rotterdam. As someone who is used to Hoegaarden I found this a bit too rough and bitter for my taste. Finally, I tried Gordon's Halloween beer. This is an ale, light brown in colour with a subtle fruity taste that belies a whopping 8.8% alcohol. A wonderful little beer.

Rotterdam is a good destination for beer tourism: it is compact and easy to get around, offers quite a bit of variety (I didn't even get to any of the specialist 200-beer bars, of which there are several) and has a damnably pleasant brewpub. All this with none of the overcrowded chaos of Amsterdam.