A kind of Polish Christmas

Beer fans are great. A few weeks ago we hosted an event at work for business partners, many of whom came from all over Europe. While setting this up, one of my Polish contacts asked me about breweries in Muenster, and so we discovered we had a common interest. A swap ensued, where Pawel managed to get some interesting-looking beers despite the really hard weather they were having which disrupted distribution. My experience with Polish beer till now has been, well, mediocre, to be kind. I was looking forward to trying the beers Pawel gave to me, but managed to hold back till this past week.


Brackie Pale Ale, brewed by Bracki Browar Zamkowy W Cieszynie (please check my spelling!), part of the Carlsberg Group, is, apparently, based on a home brew recipe. The word Belgijskie written under the Pale Ale on the label intrigued me, as I wasn't sure if this was going to be a pale ale with a Belgian twist. It certainly looks good, pouring a copper-amber with a thick, fluffy head, but is disappointingly light on the aroma with just a hint of oregano-like herbal hoppiness (although in fairness I served it a tad too cold). While looking rich and malty, it's a really clean-tasting beer, with a light touch of caramel that is minor compared to the crisp, clean bitterness. To be honest, I'd probably have mistaken it for a decent pils in a blind taste, not that that's a bad thing. With some fruity notes coming out as it warms, and finishing with a lightly tannic dryness, it's an interesting one for sure.

Miodne Piwo Ciemne from Browar Kormoranhas a lovely label with bees and honeycomb, a clear indication of what one should expect: a honeyed beer. And boy, does the honey leap out in the aroma, coupled with a raspberry fruitiness. Honey is the dominant flavour, so much so that it nearly made me wince on first taste, but it's a pleasant enough floral honey flavour, with soft fruits (raspberries again) bringing up the rear. Underpinning this is a solid caramel base, as if it wasn't sweet enough. Overall, for me, it was far too sweet, but no doubt honey freaks, like my Father-in-law, would love it.

When I was asked what types of beers I generally like, I usually have a problem, as I like pretty much everything, but when thinking of that part of Europe, I always want to try more dark beers. So, my wish was fulfilled in two bottles. The first was the Cornelius Baltic Porter from Browar Cornelius. With a tarry appearance, this is like Christmas pudding in a glass, with an outpouring of vinous fruitiness, cherries, vanilla and, as one might expect, a touch of chocolate. It's big-flavoured and boozy, sweet with raisins, chocolate and dark toffee, but cut with that vinous edge that kept me coming back for more. Yeah, I like this one.

I kept the Grand Imperial Porter from Browar Amber till last because, well, it sounded so grand! With it's dark ruby highlights, it's pleasing on the eye, although quite fizzy-looking on the pour, leaving a loose head that dies away quickly. Chocolatey really does describe the aroma, with caramel, vanilla and... Terry's Chocolate Orange? Must be the ghost of Christmas past catching up on me. Luscious would suffice. It's a choco-assault on the tongue too, with a body and soft carbonation that only amplifies that perception. Dancing around the edges are dried fruits, generous, warming vanilla, and a fudginess. Sounds too sweet? It's not. The finish surprisingly dry with a dark chocolate bitterness that lingers. All of this hides the 8% rather well, but it's still a sipper, perfect for sitting beside the fire on a cold Winter's night. Really good.

To Hell or Schefflenz

It's been a busy few months since I began my self-imposed exile from the blogosphere. Beoir, the new beer consumers organisation in Ireland was finally launched, (or the website at least, two months behind schedule) which was a relief, but also a great pleasure to see how interest is growing in just a few short months. As TheBeerNut's recent post shows, things are looking good in the Irish craft beer scene, despite pretty much everything else looking crap. I get an odd pang of jealousy that I'm not there* to experience the new beers emerging there and then, but it's bloody great to see.

Of course, one of the main reasons for the long intermission was the biggest bullet bitten to date: buying a house. After years of renting, we're finally home owners, although still renting for now as we've bought a 200-year-old farmhouse that is in serious need of renovation and modernisation. It's going to be a long project, probably never-ending, but that'll be a subject for another blog. Suffice to say that as a home brewer who now owns a rather large barn, complete with cellars, there's all sorts of crazy pipe dreams going on in my head.

We moved from Muenster to Mittelschefflenz, a considerably smaller place (c. 1,100 people in our village, or 4,180 in the Schefflenz area**, compared to 275,000 in Münster), but there's a brewery, Brauerei Egolf, in Unterschefflenz, only 2km away. Little did I know when I described their Schefflenzer Haustrunk Pilsner back in April, that I'd end up living in the place. Strange to say, despite walking to the brewery a couple of time in the two-and-a-bit months we've lived here, it's never been open. Unterschefflenz was also the home of a larger brewery, Letzguss, which closed it's doors in 1992 after operating for 158 years. The former owners of the house we've bought kindly gave me some branded glasses from the brewery, and the buildings are still there, on Brauereistrasse, with the name still dominating the street, so I'll be trying to find out more about it.

Although the move itself was a little stressful, it did give me an excuse to clear the beer cellar a bit, on the pretence of "lightening the load". Not that there was any need really. Two of these were given to me by a Lithuanian colleague who drove them all the way to Rotterdam from Vilnius, not that that was the reason we met, of course. Vilniaus Šviesusis Nefiltruotas Alus is, as the name suggests, a non-filtered beer, and light in colour, as the label helpfully translates. And yes, it is light and hazy, with a mouthwatering, sweet, bready aroma with a twist of green apple. Flavour-wise, it's more of the same, leaving a lasting sweetness and a touch of ginger-like spiciness. It puts me in mind of a soft, fruity weissbier, despite the low carbonation. A little too sweet for my tastes, it's ever so easy to lower back all the same.

It's darker sister,Vilniaus Tamsusis su Žolelemis is described as Dark with Herbs on the label, which sounds promising. Herbs and spices are certainly dominant on the nose, with anise, or clove-like overtones, but it falls a bit on the flavour stakes. It's got a fair dose of caramel flavours, but also a watered-down port effect or, dare I say it, like thinned, cold Glühwein. It's an interesting combination, in a way, but not something I could drink all night.


My biggest mistake of the move was bringing the 240+ empty bottles I used for my homebrewing back to the drink store. I now have to start the bottle collecting from scratch, so have been unable to brew. And that's something I really want to get back in action again, as there's a whole new challenge as a brewer of ales in a small German village like this, but that's another story.

*I did make one quick trip back to the old sod in September, on the occasion of my Mother's 75th Birthday. I had one spare evening to meet up with TheBeerNut, Séan and old friends to do a quick Dublin tour and sample some Messrs Maguire, Pifko and Trouble Brewing Beers. And no, I was having too much fun to take proper notes.

**The Gemeinde, or local authority area, of Schefflenz is made up of Oberschefflenz, Mittelschefflenz and Unterschefflenz, oh, and Kelineichholzheim.

Note: Although the post title refers to words attributed to Cromwell, "to hell or Connaught", we did have a choice in moving to Schefflenz, and we're quite happy with that :)

Intermission

It's clear that I've been distracted away from the blog for some time now, but I thought I should let both of my readers know what's going on. June and July were quite heavy with work travel, taking in Rotterdam and Stockholm and finishing with my annual trip to San Diego topping it off in mid-July. I have to admit, I was badly hit by jet-lag, by far more than I ever have been, and as a result had little appetite for beer. Well, I managed a few Stone IPAs and Pale Ales, both of which went down a lot better than last time, and a rather delicious Imperial Stout of some sort, but you know, I never took notes, and I can't remember what it was. That was on my last night there, when the memory of the night has been clouded (well, more like thick fog) by an excess of Cuba Libras. I was dancing, which in itself is an indicator of going too far.

Immediately after San Diego was three weeks "holiday". I say "holiday" as it was a house hunting expedition which yielded some promise, nothing 100%, and was pretty tiring. As well as test driving some Lagunitas Imperial Stout on my brother-in-law to-be (beautiful aroma: coffee, caramel, light roast with the same on the tongue: light toffee, mild roast, liquorice and a slightly lemony backdrop. Surprisingly smooth and light considering the 10% ABV, finishing dry with black pepper and anise), I drank quite a lot of Schefflenzer Pilsner, not least because this is from the village where we are thinking of moving to.

I'm pretty preoccupied with houses, mortgages, navigating the tax system and the rules of the Denkmalamt, as it turns out the house we are looking at is a protected structure, simultaneously a potential benefit and nightmare. Whatever happens, if we do take this house it'll be a lot of work to modernise it, but the barn and old half-timbered tobacco drying house/pigsty are great!

Spare time snatched from these preparations is being diverted to the rollout of the new Beoir website (Beoir being the new beer consumers organisation we announced in January), which is already a month behind planned launch, but we're nearly there.

So, I'm parking the blog for a while to concentrate on work, finding a home and fulfilling promises to the craft beer drinkers of Ireland. No doubt I'll throw some posts in as I empty my beer cellar prior to a move, but certainly not with my former regularity. Actually, I just realised The Bitten Bullet is exactly two years old! Not exactly an auspicious date for an intermission. :)

Hinterländer Marburger Kräusen

A gift from a colleague who was on travels, I was told I'd probably enjoy Marburger Kräusen from the Hinterländer Brauhaus. Well, he said he enjoyed it, so who am I to argue?

With a pleasantly fudgy, grain-like sweetness, and a suggestion of banana, it opens up well enough. This then seems to evaporate on the tongue, leaving a powdery, floral flavour followed by an apple skin-like bitter dryness (you know that kind of apple) and an oddly spiced warmth at the back of the throat. And it's only 5% ABV!  It has elements of a decent, regular German lagerbier, but with hints of something hard to define - fruit, spice, yeast, a light carbonic edge and a really dry finish.

He was right, I did enjoy it.

Oettinger Schwarzbier: surprisingly not awful

It's quite possible that this post will be adding insult to the injury being suffered by my poor, neglected blog, as I venture into the cheap world of beer that is Oettinger. Apparently nobody in Oettingen actually drinks it as they send it all away, but then the local beer snobs (probably Becks drinkers, hah! :P) would say that.

Oettinger Schwarzbier is properly schwarz, with just traces of oakey-brown highlights. It's a delicate old thing really, being a little reticent in giving up its aromas (to be fair, it was probably served far too cold) but it does suggest a touch of cherry and chocolate. Wasn't expecting that!

It's a touch thin, but has a pleasant light cara-sweetness with a dusting of roastiness and a cherry cola effect with a bit of a carbonic bite in the finish. It's actually not bad at all. People around here talk of Oettinger as if it's the lowest, but considering the price bracket, it's surprisingly not awful. In fact, on taste alone I'd prefer this to some of the so-called premium pilseners. I could have a few, I reckon, and if we buy a house soon, I'll probably have to!

Dungarvan Brewing Company

One of the things I'm missing about my homeland is the relative slew of new beers, and breweries, that have appeared over the past year. In particular, I was really happy to see the two newest, Trouble Brewing and the Dungarvan Brewing Company, as I'd had the pleasure of meeting the brewers at the regular IrishCraftBrewer.com meet-ups. Little did I know, when I first met Cormac O'Dwyer in July 2007, that he'd be braving the Irish micro brewing scene, and how happy I am that he and his brother-in-law have embarked on this journey.

And how happy I was when they told me a package was on the way over, with one of each of their three beers! And how devastated I was when my wife called to say the DHL man had arrived with a dripping package, and what felt like a bag of shards. She refused to accept the package, thinking maybe we or the lads could claim back, but in the end, we agreed to salvage what we could, and the DHL man came back a week later with the package, less drippy by now, but still jingling somewhat. Happiness returned when I found that the one I most wanted to try, the Black Rock Stout, was still intact, along with the Copper Coast Red Ale. Helvick Gold was the tragic victim, as was the cloth bag with the Dungarvan Brewing logo, that went mouldy in the beer and heat mix of the postal depot in Greven.

But I had my goodies!

I have to say, I'm not exactly a big fan of the so-called Irish Red Ale. I mean, I'm not sure if it exists, and often think that it's been made up as a style by the BJCP and American craft brewers (though most likely influenced by the late Michael Jackson). Although I've probably been influenced by TheBeerNut and fellow ICBer Séan, the likes of Smithwicks and Caffrey's do not a style make. Nevertheless, it's probably true to say that there's a kind of reverse osmosis, and the fact that this gets bandied about as a style means that many of the Irish craft breweries will put a red ale on the portfolio. Can't (or won't) argue with that I suppose. So, how does Copper Coast stack up? Well, it's aptly named, with a red, burnished coppper look to it (though it's named after the famous Copper Coast Geopark in County Waterford), with a haze. The aroma suggests it's going to be a fruity, caramelly experience, perhaps with a fresh yeast twist, and that's pretty accurate. While there are certainly caramel goings on, as would be expected, the dominant flavours lean towards a dry fruitiness, slight apple, a touch of something that reminded me of honeydew melon (don't ask). It's quite yeasty, in a freshly made dough kind of way, and behind all this runs a grassy, floral bitterness that adds a balancing bite to the finish. At 4.3%, it's surprisingly well bodied, an impression enhanced by the light, natural carbonation. My only (hopefully constructive) criticism would be the level of yeast flavours that, to me, dulled the other aspects a little, but, compared to other red ales in the Irish market, including the likes of O'Hara's, this stands out for its breadth of flavour and soft, cushion-y lushness. Really nice.

Black Rock seems to have the Irish bloggers talking, and it's been hard avoiding reading anything about it before I could try one. It's another style of beer that an Irish brewery almost has to have in its artillery, and there are some good ones out there, with Porterhouse Wrasslers XXXX standing out. Funnily enough, I used to always recommend O'Hara's Stout, but the last few I bought seemed different; thinner and more ashy. So, what about the newest addition to the true Irish Stout family?

Almost totally opaque, with just a hint of creosote-brown around the edges, Black Rock exudes a melting chocolate aroma, with a dab of fudgy caramel and a hint of dark fruitiness. Dark toffee, a bite of dark chocolate on a creamy-smooth body, shutting down swiftly with a roasted bite. Gentle, mind, but robust, drying and satisfying. Like it's red sister, it's really quite luscious for a 4.3% beer, and it lingers with an almost rosemary-like herbal hop confection, melding with that dry roastiness. It does have hints of the yeasty undertones of the Copper Coast, but more subtle, or perhaps masked by the richer, dark flavours.
Very nice, and very easy to sink a pint of -- off the shelf of course!

I wish the guys the very best of luck with the brewery, and hope we get to see more of these on shelves around Ireland and beyond.

Disclaimer: I got these beers for free, as well as some dinky little bottle openers which I have now spread around the house so I'll never be left looking for one when needed. The above are my honest opinions, as I would expect from anyone tasting my homebrew.

The beer of Kings (well, Princes)

Ever have in mind a beer that, to you, is the archetype for what that style* of beer should be? When it came to Dunkels, for me the benchmark was always König Ludwig Dunkel from Schloßbrauerei Kaltenberg, a brewery run by Prince Luitpold of Bavaria in his castle (apparently to pay the bills). I first encountered König Ludwig Dunkel about eight or nine years ago in my wife's home town. It was nice, sitting in the market place sinking back half litre mugs of the refreshing stuff, and it stuck in my head since. So too did the fact that the Prince has been refused access to the Oktoberfest on account of the brewery being outside of Munich, and despite the royal origins of the fest. What did they do instead? They run a Knight's Tournament. I bet they weren't drinking pints of Ritterbock before doing that though!


From the bottle, König Ludwig Dunkel is a clear, deep reddish brown with a lively head that looks the part. The aroma is redolent of dried fruits and caramelised sugars. Up front, it delivers a sweet, malt-driven hit with a woody tone in the background and finishing with a gentle roasty kick. There's a slight peppery edge, but it doesn't linger. The finish is dry, attesting to its apparently high attenuation, so it's definitely not as sweet as many German Dunkels can be. Nevertheless, it does leave a pleasantly sweet residue under the grassy dryness. To be honest, it's not as good as I recalled (a bit like Highlander and Mysterious Cities of Gold), but it is still moreish, and for that, I like it. Probably better from the tap while sitting in the sun. I shall try again next month.

*sorry, I hate using that word.