The last day of Christmas

I've been reliably informed that yesterday, Candlemas, was the last day of Christmas in some traditions, so it's just as well that on the eve of Candlemas I succumbed to the temptation of a bottle of Hopfenstopfer Christmas Strong Ale 2012 (I'll shorten that to HCSA). Well, that and it's probably a cardinal sin to drink out of season!

It's fairly festive-looking, with its red and white labelling, topped with gold foil hiding a plastic cork and cage. It had been residing in our potato cellar (you'd think I'd have left that behind when I departed Ireland) for a few weeks, so was well-cooled and clear, pouring an attractive copper-gold with a gentle carbonation. A lovely, clean aroma, highlighting light caramel with fruity notes - sultanas, a breath of pine needles, but mostly a generous orange peel. Definitely not in the tradition of most German Weihnachtsbier, which isn't  bad thing in my book. Unlike many other German beers of this class of strength (9% ABV), HCSA is not at all sticky. It carries a caramel-biscuit base lightly, which in turn supports a medley of citrus, dried fruit and somewhat herbal flavours. For some reason, the body and some of the background flavours (there's an almost vinous hint way back in there) reminds me of a Trappist Tripel, but the up-front flavours shout American Imperial IPA, toned down, however, to a balance that allows everything a fair voice, by turns pithy, herbal and berry-like. The finish is bitter-sweet, a thin fudge lingering under a persistent pine nut and nutmeg, orange pith bitterness that lingers for a long, long time.

I think I'd like to try this is a little more carbonation, just to see how it behaves, but it might well detract from the soothing oiliness of the whole experience. I'm looking forward to Christmas 2013!

The Incredibles

I got wind of Thomas' latest Hopfenstopfer creation via Twitter a couple of months ago, and promptly ordered a crate of the stuff: Incredible Pale Ale. I've been sharing with friends, neighbours and the postman since then, though naturally keeping the lion's share for myself. Well, the last two disappeared down my throat last week.

Hopfenstopfer Incredible Pale Ale is described as quad-hopped, but I forgot to ask what hops. It opens well, with an aroma suggesting tangerine pith, a pinch of oregano, but a faint vegetal whiff I wasn't sure about. It's an interesting mix of flavours though, being malty-sweet, herbal and fruity It has a biscuit-like base topped with, well, it's almost like the lemony part of a lemon meringue, but with added grass, hay, slices of pear, oregano and shavings of grapefruit and orange pith. The latter are brought into sharp focus in the finish, with a slight carbonic bite that perhaps sharpens them a little too much. As it warms, this eases, leaving a pleasantly tingling orange/grapefruit/herbal bitterness behind. The best part is simply swirling it around your mouth, letting all that fruity, herbal goodness wash over your tongue.

I think it's brave to name a beer "Incredible", and although I'm a fan of Thomas' work (the Citra Pale Ale is simply delicious), and I'd happily buy another full crate-load, I'd say it's a very bloody good pale ale indeed, not quite incredible - but you have to admire the balls :)

Oh, and the verdict from the postman and neighbours: "this is a good beer!" Not the type they drink normally around here, so it was pleasing that they enjoyed the new flavour experience. Long may it continue!

Triple What?

In 2009, as an impulse purchase, I stuck a bottle of Samuel Adams Triple Bock into my shopping cart. Since then, it's been stored in a cellar for a year, moved 420km, lived in another cellar for 8 months and was then moved again and lived in a cardboard box till recently. Between Christmas and New Year's, I decided it was time to pop the cork. In the back of my mind, i seemed to recall mixed reviews, to say the least, but i didn't want to spoil the moment looking anything up.

Incredibly oily, staining the glass like so much Castrol GTX after an oil change, and leaving thick encrustations on the inside (on the sides, mind) of the bottle, and literally oozing an aroma like port laced with soy sauce, musovado sugar, dark cherries and pflaumenmus. Phoar! I was almost afraid to taste it,and indeed, it's a bit of a whopper, as one might expect from a c.18% beer. But It left me conflicted, with some really compelling flavours, and some not so. On the one hand, it's pleasingly greasy on the tongue, with an initial high-molasses sweetness infused with concentrated prunes, dates, cherries and a smear of Seville orange marmalade, all of which is wonderful until ten seconds later, when a huge dose of medicinal bitterness washes over everything. Being generous, I'd say really high cocoa content chocolate, which combines nicely with the darkly sweet dried fruit precursor, but in the end, it jars, leaving an empty space after the rather pleasant umami/fruit thing it had going, replacing it with band aids and campari with soda.

It's an odd beer, and a bit like finding a dead animal in the woods, desperately interesting and almost repelling at the same time, so you just can't leave it alone.

A couple of days later, I brought the rest of the bottle over to a neighbour who was having a Schlachtfest. Basically, they start at 6 in the morning with half a pig, and by mid afternoon they have rows and rows of sausages, fine cuts of meat and 100s of tins of Bratwurst, Leberwurst, Blutwurst, you name it. Of course, it's thirsty work, so that's when I pop over (and stay till 3 or 4am). I think about eight or ten people tried it, and none liked it at all. Well, with one exception, Bastian, who is studying brewing in Weihenstephan found it really interesting from a brewing perspective, but not to his taste.

In the end, I think I like it, but am still not sure, so it's probably t most confusing beer I've had.

On an aside, I brought a bottle of BrewDog Tokyo* too. That went down better with the natives, though I got the lion's share.

Edit: Forgot to mention, this was the 1997 vintage.

Christmas Spirit

A while ago, I bought a stash of beers from Cologne's Freigeist Bierkultur, brewed at Braustelle. Freigeist make some interesting beers, some I had way back on 2010 at the Festival der Bierkulturen, some I tried at the Braukunst Live! festival last year, and some, like the Deutscher Porter, I have been sipping at for quite some time. I think I liked them all, very much, so during the holidays, when I had a little time to myself, I selfishly opened two that I hadn't tried before.

Freigssit Bierkultur Hoppeditz stands out as an Altbier brewed in Cologne, and named after a character from the Duesseldorfer Karneval, a jester-like character that opens the festivities, although from the label, he paints a slightly macabre figure. Hoppeditz pours a rather dirty, oily-looking, red-tinged brown with a persistent, rocky, tan foam. It has a fully-loaded toffee/caramel aroma laced with fruity overtones: baked apple and plums, marzipan and a suggestion of melting milk chocolate. Fairly promising, and it doesn't disappoint. With a soft carbonation and creamy body supporting a well-rounded but strong caramel base with burnt notes around the edges, it delights with flashes of flavours that are hard to pin down, being slightly vinous and roasty at turns, but with an underlying theme of raisins and chocolate, swiftly taken over on swallowing with a self-assured, earthy bitterness, invoking pine needles and orange pith. The whole concoction is remarkably easy to knock back, despite, or maybe because of the oily body, and 7.2% ABV, and really, it gives any Altbier from Duesseldorf I've tried a run for its money. Shame I only had the one left, but definitely one I'd buy again if I can get it.

Freigeist's R. Woodhouse is one I parked for a while, waiting to savour, as I knew it came from the same stable at their Rosmarie, which I really enjoyed back in 2010. Held to the light, it shows a dark strawberry juice red, with a thin, fine-bubbled head that doesn't hang around, R. Woodhouse delivers a distinctly medicinal aroma that may seem off-putting till you realise it is rosemary. It's sweet, like grenadine syrup, but with the added edge of dulled, fresh-crushed rosemary. The rosemary is more prominent on the taste, fresh and warming, with honey and lychee-like flavours coming right behind, while a light blackcurrent edge brings up the rear. The finish is predictably herbal, with a pine-like freshness and a lingering stickiness, without being cloying.While I really enjoyed their Rosmarie with sausages, and could have had a few in one go, a bottle of R.Woodhouse suffices, as near the end it began to overpower a tad. I suspect it might be better fresher, or at least shared, but nonetheless, it's a beer that keeps the interest, and I bet it'd be great with roast lamb or beef. Of course, the label and name is an homage to Roman Polanski's Rosemary's Baby, referencing Mia Farrow's character, Rosemary Woodhouse of said movie, though with added rosemary sprigs. Worth trying, but perhaps with a meal.

Right after, I opened a '97 Samuel Adams Triple Bock, but that needs a post of its own!

Aventinus Glühbier

Since seeing Evan Rail's article about mulled beer a month or so ago, it was in the back of my mind to try something like this for our second annual gathering of neighbours. So, when I received a newsletter from Weissbierbrauerei G. Schneider & Sohn (let's just say Schneider) with a recipe for an Aventinus-based Glühbier (Aventinus ranking as one of my favourite Doppelbocks), fate was sealed.

The original recipe provided by Schneider is as follows.

Original Ingredients: 

1 L Schneider Weisse TAP 6 Unser Aventinus
1 pinch nutmeg
1 pinch cardamom
3 cloves
½ Cinnamon stick
1 pinch cinnamon
9 cl lemon juice
1 Star-Anise
A sugar cube-sized piece of ginger
½ vanilla pod (Scrape out the insides and add both pod and seeds to pot)
14 cl brown rum
250 ml cherry juice
6 tablespoons brown sugar
1½ tablespoons spoon honey 

First, heat the Weizendoppelbock to about 60°C. Now put the ingredients in a spice bag. Leave everything at 60°C for 20 minutes. After 15 minutes, remove the spice bag. If necessary, add more rum or cherry juice to taste.

I had to scale this up, so started with 4 litres of Aventinus, but while making it, I felt that the amount of sugar was a bit much, given that the Weizendoppelbock is already sweet enough. They specify "Esslöffel" as a spoon size for the sugar, which is a tablespoon, or 15ml volume. I dropped it from 6 per litre to 4, used lime juice instead of lemon juice, and used a tad less of both this and the rum. My adjusted and scaled-up recipe for 4 litres of beer is as follows:


My adjusted Ingredients:
4 L Schneider Weisse TAP 6 Unser Aventinus
4 pinches Nutmeg
4 pinches Cardamom
12 Cloves
2 Cinnamon sticks
4 pinches Cinnamon
200 ml Lime juice
3 Star-Anise
4 Sugar cube-sized piece of ginger
2 vanilla pods (Scrape out the insides and add both pod and seeds to pot)
500ml brown rum
1 L cherry juice
16 tablespoons brown sugar
6 tablespoons spoon honey

I put the powdered spices into a coffee filter and stapled it closed, so it acted like a big tea bag, then suspended the lot in a mesh. To be honest, I'm not sure why they should be removed after 15 minutes as, at least for the second batch I made, I just left them in and it didn't suffer any off-flavours - though perhaps the star anise came out a little more.

Everything in, waiting to hit 60C.

The fact I had to make a second batch attests to how tasty this really was! I had three litres of standard Glühwein sitting on the range (with another 4 on standby) as well as non-alcoholic punch for kids and the early risers having to work the next day, but the Glühwein was hardly touched (one bloody mug!), while everyone who tried the Glühbier pronounced it far better, less sweet, and easier on the stomach than Glühwein., A definite hit, and unlike Glühwein, it's actually not bad after it has cooled either!

A fine, pink-tinged head in the pot.

I think we've started on a new tradition. This year and last year we held it in the "wash kitchen" of the house we are renting. It's cosy, once the old range is fired up, the candles are lit, and it's crammed with bodies. Thankfully, the nineteen people (not counting the seven children) didn't all arrive at once, so there was a steady trade of Glühbier , Kinderpunch and Beef and Köstritzer stew (couldn't get Guinness). Next year, we hope to be living in our own house (assuming we finally get it to a livable standard by next Autumn), so we'll have to find a new place. Maybe the old pig sty or the barn, as long as we can get some heaters in!

Before the madness began.

Let the Wookey win

Having a bunch of beers stashed in the cellar that I really should just open, I decided to reward myself after a   long, but successful week of construction work, by opening the bottle of Firestone Walker Wookey Jack Black Rye IPA that Chris and Merideth brought over during the Summer.

Pretty much opaque and almost completely black, with hints of ruby highlights, the first thing to notice, just on popping the cap, is the remarkable aroma. I know it's a so-called Black IPA, but I wasn't expecting the onslaught of raspberry sorbet, candyfloss and masses of orange pith. Bang! Having never had a Black IPA, let alone a Black Rye IPA, I wasn't sure what to expect, but it's a rather good marriage, with the huge hop blast of a decent American IPA (think more sorbet, orange pith and a light lick of grapefruit towards the end), but with a deft touch of roasted grains, a breath of light coffee, a slight grassiness, all on a vanilla fudge backdrop. The finish is long, with a carbonic bite sharpening the roast and citric bitterness.

I don't care what it's classified as, but it worked for me! Thanks Chris and Merideth! There's another Firestone Walker bottle waiting for me...

Bitterbier blind tasting

Oh, hello blog. Yes, I know, you've been neglected, but frankly, I've had more important things to do. However, a blind tasting is always worth a write-up, even if it was as pointless as a broken pencil.

Having recently gone shopping on the Braufactum website, despite the horrendous prices, I'd acquired a few bottles of their Colonia, described as a top-fermenting bitterbier of the of "Rheinisches" type. The only bitterbier I've had the pleasure of drinking has been Hövels, a former regular beer when I lived up north in Muenster. Having figured out that Braufactum brews it's horrendously expensive Arrique barley wine in the Hövels brewpub, after seeing photos of a brewday on their facebook page, I wondered if Colonia was some sort of rebadging of Hövels, as both are part of the Radeberger Group. We'll see. Two glasses, poured by my wife, labelled A and B. I quickly realised they were not the same thing.

Beer A was a deep, burnished copper, while B was a definite rich gold. Aroma-wise, A delivered a good, strong, typical German beer-like hop aroma, with clean pine wood and a mild resinousness, as well as a slight touch of cat, or perhaps a touch of skunk, all on a vaugely fruity caramel base. B, on the other hand, was bursting with masses of fruitiness, with kiwi, manadarin orange and fresh-mown grass. Sumptuous  so it was already clear what was what.

B had a solid, workman-like flavour, with a straightforward toffee-infused maltiness, juicy and easy to knock back in a few gulps, finishing on a dry, slightly husky note, and leaving a lingering peppermint bitterness. B was much as it smelled. Big fruitiness up front, sweet manadarin/tangarine flesh, backed by an orange barley-sugar base (but not overly sweet, mind), all on a soft, lightly-carbonated body. It finished with a pleasing pithiness. not like a gum-shrinking American IPA, but a definite touch of fresh-chewed orange pith.

Clearly, A was Hövels and B was Braufactum Colonia. I could have saved time by reading the ingredients list, but where's the fun in that? Colonia uses only Saphir hops, and I guess I like them.

I have to admit, as much as I like Hövels, it was pretty hard returning to that glass after the Colonia. After that sweet, orange-infused treat, Hövels was left like a sack of malt dust, so I was glad of the tasting order.

Although I moan a lot about the way Braufactum markets as "gourmet", with pricing to match, I have to admit, of the 5 or so beers of theirs I've tried, they've all been excellent, and I've a few more in the cellar to go.