Sharp’s Connoisseur’s Choice
As I’m sure you’re aware, last weekend saw Leeds host the EBBC, and one (of many) highlights of the weekend for me was enjoying Sharp’s Connoisseur’s Choice range with our meal on Friday night.
Stuart Howe delivered the keynote speech and he couldn’t hide his obvious delight at being able to produce these beers. Clearly the financial input of Molson Coors has enabled him to realise these beers from his notebook and into our glasses, and that’s food for thought for this cynic, at least.
Anyway, onto the beer. We warmed up with Single Brew Reserve (4.5%abv), which he described as ‘A version of Monsieur Rock’, which nods at its spritzy, Saaz-loaded character. I’m not sure about that; it misses the stone-fruit aroma and super, super-light body of MR, but let’s not forget, it is a different beer. As an aperitif it works; easy to drink, hints of biscuit in the body, and a straw-like, noble hop nose. A tasty pale ale, and one that I wished I’d have to hand in yesterday’s sunshine.
Honey Spice IPA followed; this being brought in cask – so no pictures, I’m afraid. This was wonderful, but I’m not sure how available it will be; very much in the American mould it delivered a thick, boiled-sweet body and masses of resinous, waxy orange peel bitterness. Tongues certainly wagging at this point, Honey Spice Tripel (10% abv) popped up next.
Stuart’s interpretation of Tripel is stupendously tasty; big in flavour and unapologetically so. That’s not an insult at all – I loved it; a smooth, thick mouthfeel with a touch of coriander and flowery sweetness bubbling under the surface and a nose blossoming with bubblegum and banana notes. We ate this with Fish in a white sauce and mixed vegetables, and although it didn’t quite hit the mark, this beer would be wonderful with steamed Mussels or Clams, or even perhaps a rich Bouillabaisse, loaded with fennel.
Finally, we enjoyed the surprising Quadrupel (10%abv). Hiding it’s alcohol content very, very well, the nose promised rum and raisin, hints of oak and molasses, but finished with a super-sharp, pithy blast of hops. Again, maybe a Quad not for purists, but so much more wonderful for it. This was the highlight of the selection for me, and one I will seek out again. Served with a Banana-Cream tart, the combined sweetness of the combo didn’t faze me as I wolfed it down. Yum.
Overall, these beers are a world away from Chalky’s Bite and Doom Bar, but a range that I really recommend people seek out; as a set of beers to savour and think about and also a really versatile set for enjoying with food.
Thanks, Stuart.
Beef, Stout & Blue Cheese
…If there’s one thing that we proved empirically at the Beer & Cheese night at Beer Ritz a few weeks back, it’s that rich, deep stouts and sharp, salty blue cheese are one of the best food and beer experiences out there. Talk about complimentary. My favourite duo? Perhaps…for this week!
Anyway, add Beef (in this case, a little steak) to the equation and you’ve got a cracker. Here’s a really simple sauce you can make that combines all those flavours. If you like Cauliflower Cheese with Beef, give this a go next time. There’s strong flavour going on, but if that’s your thing then you’ll love this.
Chop one large Leek, and saute it gently in butter. Whilst that’s going, make a simple bechamel sauce by adding flour to melted butter to create a roux, then milk slowly to that, whisking all the time. You don’t need a lot, just enough for a small side-dish.
Chop your Blue Cheese of choice (I used Blacksticks Blue in this) and add that to the sauce. Take your Leeks and add them to the sauce, along with a knife-tip of Wholegrain Mustard. Tip the sauce into a dish, top with more cheese and a grind of black pepper, and grill under a moderate heat until bubbling.
Whilst that is happening, fry your steak, adding salt once done, and get your stout poured. I opted for something a little special – Harviestoun’s Ola Dubh 12. Picked purely because it’s one of my favourites, it’s just got so much going on; almost raisin-esque sweetness in the body, a wonderful balance between fruit and smoke, and a ripple of dry, almost chocolate powder notes running through it. It’s a sublime beer, and once that is always worth picking up.
Serve it with a good steak, however, and you’ve got some wonderful things going on; the beer almost becomes sweeter as the sharp, salty cheese and rich meat takes over the palate. Also, if you’ve got any left over, you can spread it on brown toast and enjoy a bit of a posh toast-topper. Hurrah!
Food & Beer – We’ve Come A Long Way, Baby
I really enjoyed Mark’s recent post on the ‘state’ of Beer & Food. There’s plenty in there to think about, and Mark’s right – Beer & Food hasn’t really ‘taken off’ yet in a way that we maybe thought it would do.
The problem in that statement, perhaps, is ‘we’. It’s easy to exist in a microcosm of blogging and Twitter, mistaking Twissups, Beer and food events or bottleswaps as things that everyone does. It’s very easy, as Boak & Bailey have repeatedly impressed upon us this year, to lose perspective.
Ok, here comes that trademark Leigh Linley optimism.
Despite our reservations, let’s not lose sight of the things that have changed. Again, I can only speak for Leeds and its environs, but I’m seeing much more Beer and Food interest – especially in the last two years. I personally have run formal meals at Dough Bistro, and a few more informal events all with varying degrees of success. People come, are interested, speak to you and genuinely want to know more. What’s more, they go away either buying a bottle of what they’ve tasted or askig for it when they sit down to eat next. In the case of Dough, people were paying to come and eat -and both events that we ran sold out. People were, and are, interested.
Look at the great work Source Deli do. Look at the always-sold-out meet the brewer meals that The Cross Keys do. Byron Hamburger‘s excellent example of ongoing collaboration with Camden. Shepherd Neame recently featured on the surprisingly watchable ‘Our Food‘ in relation to Hop Harvesting (ok it wasn’t beer and food but it was a step toward recognising Beer as part of our ‘foodie’ heritage). Even the free magazine given away at the tills at Morrisons this month have a rundown of Beer on offer – and a few food suggestions.
This wasn’t happening a few years ago. We’ve come a long way!
I totally agree with Mark that it still needs a push outside that bubble; to become a way of life rather than a novelty, to be paid for in advance and enjoyed with guidance. But that’s a cultural change; and that’s not easy to achieve – maybe impossible. That breakout TV programme may never come. There are plenty of Beer cookbooks out there – some truly excellent – none of which have really ignited public imagination.
In the meantime, we should enjoy it; enjoy your beer and food – whether it be a packet of Pork Scratchings with your pint on a lunchtime or a weekend meal, shared with friends and bottles of beer rather than wine. Wine is not the enemy, but it’s culturally more ingrained.
Let’s keep heading toward that point, having fun along the way. Enjoying beer and food and always looking for the next experience – if you want to formalise it that much. I know that I prefer the range of flavour that Beer has with my food most of the time; let’s just carry on enjoying it. Who knows, maybe that’s how we affect things. By just doing.
Porter: I Know How I Like It
There’s something about Porter. The term alone evokes history; slightly odd to the uninitiated (What’s Porter?), individual, archaic, even. A time when beer names were not discussed they just were. Plain. Entire, even. What’s more, I know exactly how I like mine.
Firstly, there’s got be a ruby hue in there. There’s too many breweries around the world making light stouts – and making them too black – and calling it Porter. When done right, I want fruit, smoke and grain in the glass. Repeat after me: Porter is not Stout.
St Peter’s Old Style Porter (5.1%abv) knows what I like and delivers it. It pours wine-dark; that sexy slash of Ruby glinting within the deep brown beer. Push through that fleeting, tan head and there’s plenty going on; biscuit, almonds, blackcurrant, and wisps of smoke floating around as if it’s been sat in a barrel for a while. Echoes of sourness back that feeling up, although I don’t think that’s the case. It’s briefly drying, but remains light and - well, almost – refreshing.
St Peter’s Old Style Porter. A Porter that knows what I like.
Drinking with Levon: The Session
This post was originally going to be very different. The spirit of this Session, I felt, was more to do with stripping the ‘moment’ of beer down, and not elevating it to heights that maybe remain hard for people to relate to. The People’s Moment, if you will. I had a few ideas, and spent a few days kicking them around in my head, as you do. As it happens, I fear somewhat that I have missed the point entirely of what Pete was trying to achieve.
Anyway, this was entirely out of my hands. On Friday the 19th, Levon Helm died.
Now, unless you listen to The Band, or music of that ilk, you probably won’t know – or care – who Helm was. To me, he was representative of something; a simpler time, and a period of my life that I look back fondly on.
When I was younger, I played in a band. I played Bass and sang, and was lucky enough to call a quartet of men who loved the same music I did – mostly termed ‘Americana’ or ‘Alt.Country’ nowadays – friends. We’d hoover up albums by Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen, Richmond Fontaine, Iron & Wine, Ryan Adams and countless others, regurgitating them into our own sound. We were good, to be honest. It was a great ten years or so.
I remember one evening in our rehearsal room, tooling about with some covers, and we decided to try out “The Weight”, one of The Band’s more famous songs. We sounded good, as we were, right up until the chorus. The song, if you don’t know, has this gorgeous harmony on the chorus; a rotating, rough-but-beautiful cascade of words and melody – it stops you in your tracks and puts a smile on your face.
Of course, we failed horribly. We couldn’t do the song justice, so we left it, stumped by that magical moment. We were missing that one thing that The Band had – a spark. The harmony isn’t technically hard; but it needed to come from the heart. And we didn’t have that, I guess.
When Levon died, a part of that memory became more poignant; I didn’t remember The Band – or Levon specifically – but my mind rewound to that night, those laughs, those red faces, and those renewed respect for artists who remain true to themselves, living together, living for music, in the moment. It was the whole package; knotted together. The music is the man, and the man is the memory.
There was only one way I could pay respect to that. The albums came out; headphones on, beer poured; a Coniston Old Man Ale (A subliminal nod to Neil Young, perhaps?) Eyes closed, its amazing what you hear when you really listen to something with a new impetus. The beer was good; it was fine. Rich, smooth, subtly strong; it seemed to suit the rough-hewn, salty feeling of The Band, a throwback to simpler times in an age of Psychedelia. I sat there for two hours, rocking in my chair, dog at my feet, beer in my hand.
It wasn’t maudlin; just me, a beer, music and memories.
The beer, ultimately, was unimportant. The feeling was what was important, the warmth of alcohol’s kiss ushering in reverie over any superficial style or ingredient. But I sat there, rapt, living in the past with a beer in my hand, and I’m sure many others did the same over the weekend. It wasn’t maudlin; far from it. It felt right at some point to acknowledge – in the best way I know how – a time of my life that I really, really enjoyed; with a beer.
At the opposite end of the scale, (and maybe more in line with Pete’s original vision), one of those ‘moments’ cropped up a few days later. I was in Sheffield, enjoying a lunchtime pint (Blue Bee’s Amber’s Nectar) at The Rutland Arms. The place was quiet when I got in, but soon filled up with people partaking in mammoth sarnies and good-looking pints. I sat at the end of a table, opened my paper to the sports pages, and started poring over the hype for the upcoming Manchester derby.
A few minutes later, a shadow fell across the table. A chap appeared, and sat opposite me. We looked at each other, nodded a greeting, and he did the same as me; opened his paper, took a gulp of his beer, and settled in to study his news in silence. Two men, enjoying a beer, with no obligations or need for conversation. If I could verbalise the feeling, the best I could say is ‘contented sigh‘.
I can’t boil down ‘The Moment’ in any definable way. There’s too many moments in life - and Beer – to do that. That’s the beauty of it. There’s always a moment around the corner, everywhere, and it could be with any beer, with anyone, or alone. Events transpire. So, that week, these were my moments. This time.
*****
The Session is a monthly event for the beer blogging community which was started by Stan Hieronymus at Appellation Beer. On the first Friday of each month, all participating bloggers write about a predetermined topic. Each month a different blog is chosen to host The Session, choose the topic, and post a roundup of all the responses received. For more info on The Session, check out the Brookston Beer Bulletin’s nice archive page.
Hawkshead’s ‘Well Hopped’ Range
You may laugh, but I generally don’t take up breweries on offers of beer for review. There’s been a lot said about it in the past – about the obligation, the lack of credibility – all of which I vehemently agree with. But when Hawkshead contact you, exceptions are made. These beers were sent to me (and many others) and I’m bloody glad they were.
Sinply put – you don’t turn down Windermere Pale. Ever.
The three samples represent the ‘Well Hopped’ range; 6-7% in abv and hopped with an English and New Zealand bias. When you think about it, that’s the perfect analogy for Hawkshead; the traditional, quintessentially British attitude to unswerving quality and understatement, underpinned by the slightly zany, garrulous exclamation brought by Matt Clarke. Nowhere does that split-personality come across more than with these bottled gems.
Cumbrian Five Hop (6.5%) was my choice of the lot. Fuggles, Citra and Amarillo combine in the nose to give you a swirl of catty, lemon and tangerine notes underpinned by a herbal, slightly minty foundation. The body is clean, smooth, and with a definite note of cereal, reminding you that this beer is not all about the nose. Just when you think the beer is done, a long, dry, biting bitterness appears, making the next sip all too inevitable. Finally, a little hit of alcohol warmth shines through, leaving you to contemplate a very, very accomplished beer indeed.
NZPA combines the classic Kiwi hop family; Riwaka, Green Bullet, Nelson Sauvin and Motueka. Lighter in shade and tone than Cumbrian Five Hop, this pours a light, sunny gold and that aroma fills the glass immediately; Grapefruit, Lemon Pith, White Grape and Mango. Fresh, light, spritzy. It drinks pretty much as you’d want it to; light, elegant and sleek, carrying all those citrus flavours through the body and into a long, rasping finish.
Finally, Windermere Pale is labelled as ‘Bottle Strength‘ here; stronger than the Cask favourite at 6%, and a much different beer for it. Burnished gold in colour as opposed to uber-pale, I thought the aroma was actually less fleet-of-foot than the original. Sure, there’s all that pithy, dry-as-a-bone tangerine peel and peachiness coming through, but it finishes sweet and robust, rather than dry. There’s a herbal, hedgerow note in there too that’s interesting. I thought this version to be an interesting experiment with a (fast-becoming) modern classic, and a welcome one at that – but overall, I do prefer the original session-strength, lighter version.
All in all, another snapshot of what Hawkshead are doing right now in terms of Pales. Now I’ve just got to make sure I don’t miss those barrel-aged stouts that they’ve been hiding from us up there in deepest, darkest Cumbria…
Champagne and Food?
Ok, let’s have some fun. I was alerted to this via the magic of Twitter earlier in the week, mostly for the (seemingly ridiculous) assertion that Champagne is a great match for Currywurst. That, it may be – but I can guarantee you – Beer is better. Don’t mistake my intention – I like Champagne, as it happens – but, seeing as this is a beer blog, let’s take a look at how our beloved drink matches up more than well to this onslaught of fizz.
1. Crisps
Probably only ranked third amongst the beer-snack of choice for beer-drinkers - with the heavenly Pork Scratching and humble Nut sitting above it – the fact remains that Crisps are a great salt-and-fat delivery vehicle for stirring up a thirst. That applies whether it’s a bag at your side when watching a film with the family or sitting in the corner of a pub, paper spread out in front of you and eyes locked to the print. My favourite? Salt and Vinegar ( Tyrell’s Sea Salt and Cider Vinegar are a particular weakness) and something crisp; IPA, or, if lucky, a decent lager. You can keep your Champers, thanks.
2. Venison.
If it’s good enough for Bob Bob Ricard then…Sorry, no. It’s not. I just can’t reconcile this one. Venison is one of those dark meats that can be either delicate or robust depending on how it’s handled. I’ve had success with Venison and spiced Christmas ales in the past, such as Harpoon’s Winter Warmer, or Old Peculier. I’d also give it a try with Pumpkin Ales; I’d imagine the sweetness and cinnamon notes that those idiosyncratic holiday beers will really hit if off with that deep, rich Venison without overpowering it.
3. Jaffa Cakes
Nice one. Jaffa Cakes are ace, as is any Stout you put it with; especially something that echoes that dark chocolate aspect of the humble Jaffa Cake. Brooklyn Dark Chocolate Stout immediately springs to mind, but I do recall a Jaffa note in Hitachino Nest’s Espresso Stout when I tried that last summer. Bristol Beer Factory’s Ultimate Stout would be great with a packet of Jaffa Cakes next to it, too.
4. Fish and Chips
Much with the Crisps, I can see how this would work, but as I spoke about here, Fish and Chips is a surprisingly thorny match to make. I still stand by my original views – Beer, either rich and bready, like a brown ale or best, or a crisp golden beer or wheat. There’s too many permutations to count. It’s a great combo, no matter which way you fry it.
5. Sushi
Ok, a little blind spot. I’ve never had really good sushi. So I will close my eyes and say….something Crisp? Gueze feels right – in fact, more than right – but am I doing Sushi an injustice? Your thoughts, please!
6. Chilli
From Amber Ales to light, fruity Stouts, Chilli is beer’s friend. You can do what Mark did here and add smoke to your beans, or add Stout – why not a chocolate stout – for depth. For drinking with, I’d personally plump for something sweet and amber; Stroud’s Tom Long recently impressed me; sweet, crisp and really,really moreish.
7. Poppadoms
See Crisps.
8. Eggs
Now here’s a tricky one. Eggs. A bit of a random statement. There’s so many ways to eat eggs! At a dinner for Thornbridge last year we enjoyed Eggs Benedict and Asparagus with Wild Swan, which was delicious. If you are scrambling and adding smoked salmon, then a light, smoky porter would be great.
9. Currywurst
Really? There’s a suggestion that Champagne is sometimes served with Currywurst? In Germany? The home of beer and sausage? Anyway, I don’t know, so please enlighten me. Personally, you can keep that Champagne chilled, sir. I’ll have a Marzen or a Dunkel, please – I personally prefer darker/smokier beers with spiced food. Yum.
10. Fruit
Apart from the odd Apple that I’ve cut up to enjoy with cheese and a beer, Fruit isn’t something I’d automatically go for with a beer. However, with all those Fruit beers out there, where’s the need? Frambozen, Kriek, Tropical fruit notes in West Coast IPA’s and Stone fruit suggestions in hops, bitter citrus peel in Wit, Cherries, Damsons and Blackberries in stouts… Beer and Fruits have always been bedfellows – just not in an obvious way, at times.
11. Cheese
I’m not even going to regale this with an answer; it’s too vast. Simply do this: Go over to the Marble Arch in Manchester with a Friend. Order a cheeseboard – whatever size, it’s your option. Order a pint of Manchester Bitter or Summer, if it’s the season. Eat, drink and chat. Tell me how that goes, without using the adjectives ‘Perfect’, ‘Heavenly’ or ‘Exquisite’. Or even just ‘Spot on’. Personally, I don’t think you can beat Blue Cheese and Stout, but that’s just me.
So there you go. Champagne bettered. My work here is done. Better still, let me know your ideas and combos – I’m the kind of guy who will try them – really.







