Credit Where Credit is Due - Mossley Organics & Fine Foods

I feel I have done a disservice to a good old friend of mine and it would be prudent to put that right when possible. You see, I recently wrote a blog post praising the opening of Beermoth in Manchester, I even wrote an e-mail to Beers of Europe giving them praise after they did me a particular favour. But I have neglected to give the required veneration to one particular shop that I probably frequent for beer more than any other.

For Christmas 2011 my Father bought me a bottle of Millstone Tiger Rut. This in itself may seem unimpressive to you, despite my praise of Millstone’s beers in various blogposts, however the significance of this purchase was not lost on me. Where the hell did he find it? Although Millstone are the most local of local breweries to me, I had never seen them in bottles. Mossley Organics he said he had found it and vowed we’d go up together soon.

Now, Mossley Organic Shop is less than 3 miles away from my house but, not visiting the town centre often myself, it was not somewhere I had visited prior to that Christmas. However, it was February 2012, after a dentist appointment that happens to be just around the corner from this shop, that I first got my chance to visit Mossley Organics. I expected a few Millstone beers and probably a selection from Greenfield Brewery in their small beer section. I had been unprepared for just how good it was going to be

I find it strange when I see other bloggers mentioning the good beer range in their local supermarkets. Some have mentioned BrewDog in Tesco, Oakham in Waitrose, any decent beer at all in Asda – either these people have “Bigged up” a very average assortment or they have a much bigger choice in their local brand supermarkets than I do. Because quite frankly, apart from a few measly offerings in Sainsbury’s, my local supermarkets have nothing worth bothering with.

So my local shop for food and beer has now become Mossley Organic & Fine Foods. The beer range, for a non-specialist shop, is particularly impressive. It only comprises of two shelving units, but a lot of quality is piled in. From my first visit they’ve always stocked the full core range from Buxton, Thornbridge and Red Willow. Mallinsons, Marble and Liverpool Organic have all joined in since, amongst many others, and on my last visit I was pleased to see the welcome addition of beers from the new (and local) TicketyBrew as well as OffBeat Brewery.

There is certainly a push towards local breweries here and no brewery further south than Crewe – or further north than Tadcaster (aside from North Yorkshire Brewing, stocked because of the 'Organic' label) – seems to make the shelf. This doesn’t bother me. I love that approach and am pleased to see the shop branch away from only those beers listed as “organic.” You may be unlikely to catch a Tsar Bomba or Pond Hopper here, but for very reasonably priced Axe Edge and Halcyon, I can think of nowhere better. They certainly do beers like that much cheaper than the specialist beer shops I’ve visited.

I do buy a lot of food here too, and my spice cupboard and cooking essentials are all the more improved since I came here. There are plenty of odd speciality foods and it is the first place I go to when trying a new recipe with ingredients that are either not in Tesco or that the big supermarkets feel is deserving of a ridiculous mark-up.

But for beer alone, this is definitely worth a visit if it’s accessible to you. Shop Local, as the WI frequently campaign, and I will whilst it's this impressive.

Hvedegoop!

I tend not to blog about individual beers, aside from my Advent Calendar venture in December. Even when I’ve had a single beer worth writing about, it’s led to further proclamations and deciphering thoughts. Perhaps I’ve been intentionally avoiding making this a blog that is solely beer reviews, but the right beer does deserve the right stage.  

I could probably name my top 5 favourite beers if I truly stopped to think about it. I could possibly consult untappd to see which few beers have ever received a five star rating from me, and whilst there are plenty of 4’s or 4.5’s knocking about, I can’t remember the last time something blew me away quite like the Mikkeller and Three Floyds collaboration Hvedegoop.

As a huge Barley Wine fan and huge Mikkeller fan, as soon as I first heard of the “goop” collaborations, I knew they were something I had to get my hands on. Any further blogs I read, or even the odd YouTube review, just confirmed that they were for me. Of course, this can’t always be guaranteed, and with the first that I found available in the UK being a “wheat wine” rather than barley, I should have perhaps had some reservations. Added to that, the price made this the most expensive beer (at the time of purchase – around October 2012) that I had ever bought for myself. Expectations were raised, meaning that I repeatedly put off the moment this beer would be opened. The large abv of 10.4% on a big bottle of 750ml just meant that there was always a reason not to drink this.

But in a night where I felt I needed to both settle my nerves and reward myself, the time has come for Hvedegoop

Hvedegoop pours like no beer I’ve ever had before. I pour it and let it sit for a minute, then another minute, and then another five. This beer retains a two inch thick foam head that continues to replenish itself in a fountain of bubbles as it sits in your glass. The head is thicker than an Ibiza foam party and it’s impossible to resist a finger dip. I don’t think I’ve ever sat and looked at a beer for such a prolonged period of time without tasting it.

It smells like a crushed vat of parma violets, next to a bowl of Christmas pot pourri, fragranced with mango zest and pineapple chunks, over a melted down pack of Werther’s Originals. It’s different.  

It packs a punch taste wise, but this isn’t Audley Harrison on another career revival swing, this is Rumble in the jungle punches with a winning connection every time. Every hit is palpable. It would sing of a tropical island fruit salad, if those English winter berries weren’t making themselves heard too. It would tell you of Canadian Maple leaf, if Winnie-the-Pooh wasn’t swinging his honey pot in the background. It would boast of rich salted taffy, if our own sticky toffee pudding didn’t want it’s share. This is unbelievable.

I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a beer this much. I can’t remember the last time I savoured every drop with fear that I may never taste this ambrosia once more. Does the rarity of this beer increase it’s impressiveness? For once, no. I could have this as a regular treat and never grow bored and I know this for certain. I’m thinking of the Boogoop and Risgoop I’ve yet to have, stored away, and I’m gleeful. More to come. Hopefully more exceptional moments.

Tonight was as far removed from those first cans of Grolsch you had as a 14-year-old lad at your first house party as beer can be. This beverage tonight explains all that excites me about beer in a bottle. For all those that could never grasp it as a hobby or interest, this defines my fervour. If you don’t enjoy Hvedegoop, you’ll never understand my passion.

So what's this Rail Ale Trail really like?

Last year I wrote a post about the now infamous Rail Ale Trail running along the trans-pennine line that is local to me. The designed pub route flows between Batley and Stalybridge with people taking in as many stops as they choose. There are supposedly designated pubs to visit for each station that you are supposedly supposed to visit on the basis of trying the supposedly great real ale. The issue has been, of course, that this has become a piss up and day out for big groups of thugs, stag and hen parties and people with no interest in what alcohol they pour down their throat only to childlishly sick it up later.

But then it is intrinsic to believe that this is no longer a fun day out for anyone who isn’t a hooligan who deserves to be locked away in a darkened room with Professor Stephen Hawkings trying to teach them about the wonders of the Universe over a soundtrack of Brahms and Schubert.  I called those who hold such an attitude snobs in my last post and part of me still stands by that. Yet the proof is in the cream soaked, melt-in-your-mouth, sticky pudding as Nigella Lawson might say so I went on the Rail Ale Trail for the first time in around two years to see if it has become as terrorising as people would have us believe.

In true experimental style, I dragged some of my work colleagues and girlfriend on this day out to get the broadest range of opinions and attitudes to this day. I was the only real ale drinker to be participating. The only other who came close will drink the stuff but can’t stand anything with the slightest of hop bitterness to it. One is a whiskey drinker and said he would be trying to get in the spirit of the day by ordering a different one at each stop. One is a cheap, commercial, pointless lager boy. The other two in the group were ladies of the stereotypical flavoured cider variety who wouldn’t be touching a drop of real ale either. Minus myself, you could argue our group was everything people have complained about. Surely at least one of us is going to relieve ourselves in a Slaithwaite garden….

Our day started with a hearty Stalybridge Wetherspoons breakfast and a pint of on-form Greenfield Copper Caskade before moving on to the first stop of Stalybridge Buffet Bar. The buffet bar has suffered more than most on the ale trail route, being the starting point for a large portion of the parties and a finishing point for even more. It was also where James May spent a sufficient amount of his time supping in the now infamous programme. The pub has now had a few sanctions placed upon them and others they’ve voluntarily introduced. The decision to not let people drink on the station platform now, enforced by public transport police,  is a disappointment, but perhaps sensible. The decision to serve all drinks in disposable plastic glasses all day Saturday, whether to familiar customer or not, is less welcome. Just who I’m supposed to glass in the face at noon I’m not sure, but my pint of Red Willow Directionless was considerably less flavoursome for it. The pub wasn’t uncomfortably busy at this time and is still always a place worth visiting.

We jumped on the express to Huddersfield at this point, which can be busy on a Saturday, but aren’t most trains? We departed and entered the Head of Steam, the lesser of Huddersfield’s two station pubs, but the one more frequented by Ale Trailers. I know the place well and avoid it due to its questionable ale on occasion. It didn’t disappoint on that front with my friend’s pint of Wylam Rocket tasting like soiled bath water and my pint of unmemorable rubbish tasting like the shower gel next to the tub. The lady’s enjoyed Rekorderlig on tap and the whiskey boy enjoyed some Highland Park, but even at stop number two, I was already bored of the natural Ale Trail format.

 That was why I insisted we took the opportunity whilst in Huddersfield to visit the Grove. I took full advantage, ending with a Brewdog AB:04 after hearing of Huddersfield Town avoiding relegation (in your face Peterborough), and seeing the other’s try alternate beverages and snacks in the true spirit of the day. I knew that the day was likely to go downhill from this point onwards and the truth is you’d have a much greater day out just sat in the Grove.

Still, continue we did, but I won’t go into detail about each individual stop to bore you. This was a day out to see if the Rail Ale Trail was a thug fuelled mess of an activity rather than a quiet enthusiast’s dream. The truth is somewhere in between. Whilst it has always been obvious that the majority of merry makers don’t give the cask pumps in any of the pubs a second glance, I didn’t see a single scuffle, moment of idiocy or even behaviour that made these cynical eyes frown. Slaithwaite and Marsden use the transport police to great effect to police behaviour on the platform. Greenfield and Mossley don’t seem to care but this didn’t seem to cause anything sinister. I, once again, was subjected to the horrendous ideal of groups of people, both old and young, going on a day out and having a good time. Not all of them cared about real ale – who really gives a flying dog?

I mentioned in the last post about how the Rail Ale Trail has encouraged many pubs in these villages to take full advantage and start experimenting with cask pumps. This still holds true and most are doing it with success. I also mentioned the idea that business and economy in the designated stops must be hugely boosted, not only in the pubs, but surrounding entities too such as shops and takeaways. This is definitely true (as I can vouch for by the line for Marsden’s chippy.)

Yes, I have heard stories of fights, scuffles and people throwing chairs around because one pub had sold out pies. Yet aren’t these the actions of idiots who could enter any pub sozzled on any weekend night? Locals and publicans have called for some action against this Rail Ale Trail but how do you put a stop to a pub crawl? I still don’t understand, 9 months on, why this day out causes such a hoo-ha.

I will end though by recommending an alternative to those who live near the trans-pennine line and fancy a similar day out. I mentioned in my post in August that I was planning a different Rail Ale Trail through the Calder Vale. I completed this journey in November, taking the train from Manchester to Huddersfield and stopping at great pubs in Rochdale, Todmorden, Hebden Bridge, Sowerby Bridge and Halifax on the way. It was hassle free and a great day out. If you want to try a Rail Trail in this area without the crowds, try that.

And to those who aren’t local to our line, like the lads from Nottingham I chatted too in Stalybridge Buffet Bar recently, or those from Suffolk I met on the train, I still don’t see why you are travelling all this way to do an activity you could do closer to home. Do your local research first! Honestly….

The Day Beer Geekery became too sad - and the blog post that never was

I had the post already written out in my head. I knew what it was going to be – the classic Mark Johnson mix between criticism and cynicism - the two key ingredients of my life that have served me little purpose. Those who know me best personally would be unsurprised. Those who know me through beer drinking perhaps a little exasperated.

It was the day that so many fell victim to clever marketing exploits. I’m not constantly online so, whilst I’d seen some of the pre-launch hype, come May 16^th I wasn’t prepared for the sheer loss of sense and sagacity. It was the day that one brewery in the UK showed so many beer geeks up to be gullible fools. There’s nothing wrong with using social networking as an exploitive marketing tool, but when you fall easy victim to the trap you’re a tool too.

I would love to try Un-human Cannonball. Human Cannonball is already one of my favourite beers from the last two years. No, I have not had chance to try this new beer yet and yes, I am jealous of those that have. But I will have it when the opportunity arises, when the façade has died down, when it is just another great beer to buy and enjoy. I will not have it when it is an anorak’s boastful claim. When you can say proudly – ‘I was the Apple tool who queued at midnight to have the latest iPhone because I am a marketing mug.’

I wanted to write a post lambasting Magic Rock, telling them how disappointed I am that a brewery I have admired since my very first taste of theirs could use so many susceptible people so easily. But there are two reasons I won’t do this.

1)      It is not Magic Rock’s fault that you are all gullible tools. They are a business who need to make money and their use of online marketing to make maximum profit should be applauded.

2)      I found this drafted blog post (posted below), completely coincidentally, written around February/March last year (2012) which truly shows my feelings about Magic Rock Brewery. Reading through it last night lightened the cynic in me over this whole affair. I am printing it here undrafted and in the form I found it. It was written as I tasted their Bearded Lady Imperial Brown Stout for the first time:-

“Magic Rock was another brewery that sprung up whilst I was slightly out of the beer loop. My brother went to the launch night at The Grove, Huddersfield, only to return with incredible rave reviews. Even after that, it was still a month or two before I got the chance to sample any of their beers. In the end it came about via a keg half of Human Cannonball, and I knew from that moment that everything I knew about British beer had changed.

“That sounds like an outlandish, exaggerated statement, but my next beer of theirs was only 3.9% abv, known as Curious, yet packed more flavour than some 8%+ double IPA's I'd had that year. High Wire followed, alongside Rapture and the incredible stout Dark Arts. Everything I tasted was a new favourite. I looked forward to their beers and was unsurprised to find my favourite pubs making them permanent fixtures of theirs quickly.

“Now I've had the whole (current) Magic Rock family, except for one. And so it is that I open my Bearded Lady, Imperial Brown Stout. It's not brown though, it's black. It's so black I have to check that I've not simply just closed my eyes when looking at it. People tar pavements with lighter mixtures. The scent is also beautifully sweet. It’s reminiscent of my youth stood next to a pic'n'mix stand. There's liquorice, Black Jacks, Dark Wine Gums and Bassets Allsorts. I'm a big Imperial Stout fan and this does not disappoint. "Born from their Dark Arts recipe" they exclaim, which I already found to be superb. But this just perfects perfection. I do not taste the strength. I'm just dizzying myself in fresh pine nuts, wild berries and roasted coffee beans. It’s delectable. What I love about Magic Rock is that there's so much hype around their beers that I actually drink them with a certain amount of enforced cynicism, only to be blown away every time. I'm only disappointed that its strength means I shouldn't really be trying more than one, because I could probably have this as a replacement for water. "The lady demands respect" but if it were possible I'd propose to her right now.

“I remember Stephen Merchant once saying that Brazil was full of so many beautiful women it was actually annoying. I'm annoyed at Magic Rock right now, but with a grin on my face the whole time.”

Reading back over this reminded me of the deep enjoyment I’d found through each of these brewery’s beers. I’ve actually written the words there, 15 months ago, “What I love about Magic Rock is that there's so much hype around their beers that I actually drink them with a certain amount of enforced cynicism.” I was humoured to find myself writing that at a time when Un-human Cannonball wasn’t even conceived. This latest beer may have brought out the cynic in me, but I am now convinced it will be terrific. No, I still won’t be boastfully claiming that I played the new Call of Duty before others because I queued outside Grainger Games from 10pm on a school night, my geekery has its limits, but if somebody uses the internet to hype something that deserves to be so then I will have no further reservations. I’ll need to taste the beer before I can make that call, for all I know, it tastes like a ringmaster’s gooch, and it’s up to each unbiased individual to decide that for themselves.

 

I don’t own the images used in this post.

Why Haven't I Learnt Alcohol's lessons?

I’ve never taken part in the “Session” monthly blogging event, though I quite enjoy reading through many of them each month. Once, I considered what topic my own session would focus on and it was of very similar ideals to the one hosted this month about ‘Finding Beer Balance.’ Whilst I didn’t take part in the session, and this is not an attempt at a late entry, reading through the varying opinions made me remember a post I’d started to write in the past about dealing with alcoholism when having such a dangerous hobby.

Beer is now my definition and personality. To those who know me personally it seems to be my number one characteristic; the trait that sticks with them when they think about “Mark Johnson.” I never intended this to be so, but since most of my social life revolves around this particular interest of mine, or crops up as a subject in every bar or restaurant I visit, it’s easy to see why others picture me as this beer monster. It is the subject of most of the work banter I receive during working hours. People I’m not particularly close to, or haven’t heard from in a while, send me out of the blue messages along the lines of “Just read this article in the paper about beer, I thought you’d enjoy it.” Even my girlfriend’s Nan, who I’d previously met on only a couple of occasions, informed me this Sunday all about a beer festival she’d read up on in the local paper and thought I’d be interested in. It’s nice to have such a quirk, but this inevitably leads to questions and judgements surrounding the a-word.

For me though, it’s more personal. There is somebody very close to me, who we will refer to as ‘Steve’ for the interests of this post, who is an alcoholic. It’s severe. There have been several emergency rushes to hospital, collapses, job losses and general distress for Steve’s family. I’ve witnessed some of the falls, ridden in the ambulance with Steve and seen his wife’s suffering through his addiction. It’s caused me much personal anguish but with great perseverance I’ve done what I can for him. Unfortunately, it’d never been enough. However, it’s led to me being asked the same question, numerous times, by different people. It was that question that led to me considering writing this post. It wasn’t until my most recent girlfriend predictably asked it that I really gave it some thought.

The question is: “Hasn’t Steve’s illness changed your view on beer?”

The translation of this question is: “Haven’t you learnt your lesson with alcohol from Steve’s illness?”

I should explain that Steve is a lifelong real ale enthusiast. He is one of the traditional kinds that we probably all know at least one of. He doesn’t go anywhere new without his Good Beer Guide guiding him. He is a local CAMRA branch member and enjoys attending the meetings and festivals. He loves nothing more than finding a small, traditional, multi-roomed pub with real ale available in an unusual location or seeing his local have such favourites as St. Austell’s Tribute or Hopback’s Summer Lightning on good form. In many ways, his interest in beer also defines him to his peers. Steve still enjoys all these activities in the present, but behind those ale enthused eyes hides many lies, bottles of cheap spirits and an incapability of going six hours without an alcoholic drink.

I’ve no sympathy with addicts, having never been one myself. I’m sure it’s terrible to go through, but to me, addiction is weakness. I used to casually smoke and never once had any strong cravings so can’t understand people who find it impossible to quit. It’s the same with alcohol. I drink more than most people I know personally, and I was a student for God’s sake, when pouring vodka into pints of crap lager was the norm, and never once have I been close to feeling how Steve feels. So to directly answer the question I’m so often asked, then no, it hasn’t changed my views. To answer the real elephant in the room, there was never a lesson to learn.

Yet, that isn’t strictly true, and it wasn’t until reading the recent posts by others involved in the “session” that I truly realised the affect it’s had on me. I go out of my way to make sure I have a minimum of three alcohol-free nights a week. This week I’ve already made the cognisant decision to have Sunday through to Thursday alcohol free. Though I think about and buy beer a lot, I drink comparatively little at home. Whilst people think I am constantly on it, the majority of times when I think ‘I really fancy a beer right now’ I don’t. And the reason for this hesitance is because of Steve. He has changed the way I think about drinking.

It’s because I have seen such a beer enthusiast deteriorate this way that I have general concern for some of my peers that I follow on social media such as Twitter. Whilst even I will frequently come out with age old lines such as “Absolutely gasping for a beer today,” there is a line and I see some cross it. Occasionally I’ll read people saying “Tried to have a full night off the beer but succumbed to temptation,” or “tried a week off the booze – failed after an hour.” I wonder, when reading such quotes if this is mere banter or the start of a deeper underlying problem. Whilst beer is on my mind habitually, I can resist it whenever I need to. Is this the way Steve’s predicament has shaped me? Or are the alarm bells that ring for me justifiable?

Alcohol affects different people in different ways; I’ve heard that from doctors enough times whilst sat in the hospital with Steve. I know of people who can drink four litres of vodka a day and show none of the signs of illness that Steve, who drinks much less than that, shows almost acquiescently. It’s why the government’s and health official’s unit limitations are complete nonsense. It’s about understanding your own body and own limitations. I’ve never woken up craving beer, I certainly never have when feeling tender from the night before, but who am I to question those that do? I frown at myself when I feel I am judging those that have ever used the excuse: “it’s the hair of the dog.”

I don’t intend to change the way I drink. We all know that it’s not about being completely gazeboed every night but rather the interest, the sharing, the tastes and the collector’s items. But so it was for Steve once. I know sooner rather than later I’ll be attending Steve’s funeral and I only wish he’d treated his passion with a little more caution and responsibility. People may have defined me with beer, but it will never become me. I hope that it is the same for us all.

 

Compurgating Clown Shoes

There has been a great influx of American breweries to our shores over the past few years and we welcome them with such esteem and excitement most of the time. Those that use Ratebeer or others similar often rush for the likes of Dogfish Head and Russian River with schoolboy glee, knowing their rarity in our isles. The rest of us are just happy to try something interesting and different and I, personally, don’t tend to look at other’s subjective views until trying a beer for myself.

It was with this attitude and whim that I first bought a beer from Clown Shoes Brewery of Ipswich, Massachusetts called Hoppy Feet 1.5. I wrote about the experience in a favourable blog post and quickly seeked out other brews that were available, though the choice was sadly limited. When a larger range from this brewery became available towards the end of last year, I couldn’t help but snap up as many different beers as possible, especially after another positive encounter with their Supa Hero IPA.

Now Clown Shoes have secretly become my favourite international brewery. But I hold the kind of regard for them that you are tempted to keep to yourself rather than share with others, knowing few in this country who seem to have tried them. However, after tasting my four remaining bottles over the last month, I thought I would selflessly share just so the rest of you in the UK, who might have wondered or simply might not have known, can understand why I love Clown Shoes.

Lubrication – American Black Ale –6%

It’s true that we don’t drink much “black ale” here, and any that is brewed is quickly distinguished as either Black IPA or Porter. But there is definitely a distinction here. Big, onyx and with a huge and delightful head, it is certainly comparable with a Black IPA on the nose with a fruity honeyed scent. I brace myself for a Black IPA. But this is a different beast altogether. It's a large piny, tangy, hoppy heaven and yes there's the roasted malt afterthought. But it's all a lot smoother. OK, the name and picture is making the idea of engine oil sliding down my throat impossible not to picture, yet there's much more complexity here. Struggling for comparisons, I want to name it, but it is an American Black Ale. Black beer that is fresh and drinkable. Brilliant.

Muffin Top – Belgian Style Tripel India Pale Ale – 10%

The fear with imported American beers is always the hop freshness, but the Supa Hero IPA I tried, though bottled some nine months previous to tasting, was still as fresh and beautiful as intended. Muffin Top, bottled in 2011 may suffer slightly from a loss of hop zest, though I have no comparison. This is barley wine to me from the off. However, I love barley wine. This is caramel and cinder toffee with almost sickly sweet sticky hops that cling to your teeth. It’s heavy stuff, with my tongue licking half the beer away from my molars. Yes it is one to savour. It’s a two hour long slurp in front of a film epic. It's a sharing platter over Christmas dinner. It's the hardest day at the office when the rum just won't cut it. But it’s barley wine. All that time has only made it into pure nectar for me.

Vampire Slayer – Imperial AmericanStout – 11%

Originally packaged as “Smoked Imperial Stout,” hence why I was so eager to try it, this is, quite simply, beer. I don’t want to discuss it… It’s the greatest taste my mouth has had the pleasure of experiencing. If you could put me in a brewery and provide my hands with the necessary skill, they would craft this beer.  I want a huge imperial stout with a sweet hoppy background, dominated by smoky malts. And they’ve made it. I’m not going to describe anymore to you. This beer was brewed for me.

Blaecorn Unidragon – Russian ImperialStout – 12.5%

There’s a blackcurrant juice tint to this thin-headed black mass. The nose is dominated by chocolate flavourings scarcely hiding a dark abyss backdrop of saccharine vanilla and salty molasses. The taste is a momentous concoction of charred wood and dry cocoa, mixing with a swimming pool of the more usual coffee, liquorice and lots and lots of chocolate. The burn certainly says its hello to begin with, but once it's made its entrance, settles into the corner to talk of counselling hops soothing those aggressive malts. It's my idea of an Imperial Stout. Bottled in January 2012, this has certainly had time to sit and age, but I want another to brave our terrain for longer. It is momentous.

It is rather sickening that some of these beers I fear I have tasted and reviewed for the last time, but I know I will purchase them wherever they are available. Beer was crafted for man to take pleasure from and Clown Shoes do it better than anyone I’ve come across. It’s sad that only seven of their beers have been available to me in this country, it’s enough to make me book a flight. I'm looking at the idea of a double brown stout, imperial amber ale, pecan pie porter, chocolate beer or even an English style ale with the same name as my favourite Pharoahe Monch song all in existence without me trying them and I am salivating. Please don’t buy their beers in this country; it only limits their availability to me. But if you do get chance, I guarantee you will not be disappointed.

 

Compurgating Wild Beer Co.

I grew a little bored of tasting sessions and posts for beers after the full voracity of the Advent Calendar saga. However, occasionally some evenings deserve special mention and credit, as do the beers sampled at such times.

For this reason, I’ve decided to write up my experience tasting a box of Wild Beer Co’s creations the other evening. Wild Beer Co. were a brewery that created a lot of hype around blogs and the social media long before their beers ever seemed to hit the shelves. Being the miserable cynic that I often am, this made me sceptical, and initially resentful, towards them. I find it shallow and naïve when I see fellow enthusiasts or bloggers hyping up a brewery or brew so much before tasting has even occurred. To me, it is just for those that are easily fooled into marketing schemes and ploys; the sort of humans you would find switching insurance every 3 months because a new species of talking animal told them to in the Coronation Street break.

I don’t blame the brewery for this; in fact I admire their shrewd use of social media in creating the buzz. I love their packaging design and mission statement and my interest too was tweaked by the marketing. I’ve written before about my love for Millstone Brewery but my regret/admiration that they don’t even have so much as a Twitter page. They’ve still been consistently making bitter and hoppy pale ales to rival many of these new “craft” brews without fuss for many a year. Still, perhaps another post dedicated to that particular subject will come on a different day.

For now, let me just recount my only experience with Wild Beer so far. It came in the form of their Modus Operandi, a beer I had seen frequently praised over Twitter, often under the heading of “my favourite beer this year,” or “my current go-to beverage.” Through this high praise, I chose to fork out for a bottle at Port Street at their birthday celebrations recently. Alas, I had the beer towards the end of the night, when taste had stopped mattering and my cynicism was in full flow. I remember not being overly impressed, but then I couldn’t tell you now what it tasted like at all.

Anyhow, the reason for a tasting session arose through a competition I “won” (I was the only entry) through Beer Ritz’s website. A box of Wild Beer landed in the office at work one day, much to my surprise and merriment. Two bottles each of Wild Beer’s Fresh, Scarlet Fever and Madness IPA. I was thrilled to get the chance to sample these beers and did so over the course of a single evening, leading to this tasting event.

Fresh – 5.5%

I believe this bottle to be from Batch 1. Drink Fresh – Don’t Age, this beer commands, and I enjoy the authority. It smells of your favourite barley wine mixed with rose wine, sticky sweet with a buttery biscuit base and a drizzle of maple syrup over it. There’s no doubting when this beer is tasted that the name affects your judgement. It’s fresh. Crisp and clean are the only adjectives that spring to mind, like a freshly picked lettuce leaf. This is barbeque drinking beer for the more assertive. It doesn’t need the intellectual to break down the flavours here. It’s a complicated flavour that just marries together into a unity so simple but clean… fresh! I love it.

Scarlet Fever – 4.8%

Sometimes I redraft my tasting notes but for Scarlet Fever I would like to present them in their rawest form as written at the time, as I enjoy seeing my initial thoughts: Much darker than Fresh, as it’s a gorgeous crimson, thick, red wine-esque beaut, my initial scent of this beer made me think I'd love it as it smelt of a big, hoppy American red ale, one of my favourite styles. But immediately this descends into something else, rather peculiar, I can't quite put my finger on it. It's one of those occasions I need a second opinion present to help and just don't have one. It's an almost meaty quality, like Chinese pork, yes honey and ginger pork, with a definite lambic cherry finish. It's exciting and strange. The taste is massive and crazy. Dark, sweet, cherry like fruits with a great boozy undertone yet ridiculously smooth. There's so much great flavour but, with a strength of just 4.8%, there's no burn or hurt in quaffing. Again, the hop hit is a zingy bitter finish that isn't dry and avoids giving you heartburn (as some would claim.) I can't think of another beer available that is comparable. Terrific and original stuff.

Madness IPA – 6.8%

This doesn’t make a great initial impression. There’s little on the nose but a strange acridic underlay that is close to being unpleasant. But taste wise, it is anything but. This has all the character of a modern IPA - bouncy citrus hops, lovely tropical fruitness and sweet, tongue tickling bitterness, like a pineapple smoothie made on a beach shack in the Bahamas. It sings along your throat and laps against your tongue repeatedly with such cleanliness. I forgot for a moment that I was drinking a "Wild" beer so don't mind commenting that there is something sour in the aftertaste that is pleasant, because I wasn't searching for it. But this is one of my favourite beers from this year, thusfar.

I am a cynic. I’ve tried to change, but why deny who I truly am? I frequently look for the negatives without due consideration. I was wrong to doubt this brewery just because of the foresight of some on social media. I am pleased that my last blog post was proven wrong in the very next post, that subjective thoughts are still welcome in this beery world of ours. Congratulations Wild Beer Co. on a stellar start. Long may this continue.

And special thanks to Beer Ritz once more. If I learnt nothing else from this experience it's that getting my knickers out will always pay dividends.