Holiday poetry

4

An Ode
To Mythos

Mythical, magical,

yielding barley refreshment to raise a drooping head.

The ice cold glass dripping incessantly, myriad drops

hurrying to wet the table through. All condensation, then:

“Oh yes, that hits the spot!”

Simply perfect, as the sun beats down without remorse.

Hello, we’re back! As you can see two weeks in Greece were well spent indulging in things I’d never normally have the time, inclination or interest in doing. When I wasn’t scribbling crap poetry on the back of restaurant fliers I spent the rest of time playing ‘Yes/No’ with Sarah and finding out that I’ve been calling Barbra Striesand ‘Barbara Striesland’ my whole life. Good job I read 7 books, drank gallons of Mythos and constructed a family tree on the back of napkin, or else I’d have nothing to show for a wonderful holiday but a vague tan line!

Tags: holiday, mythos, poetry

The context of a perfect beer

6

…Or Why Mythos Is The Best Beer In The World But Only In A Very Specific Situation And With The Correct Weather Conditions

When I’m reading on holiday (and spouting verse to rival Simon Armitage) I’m never far from a little notebook where I can jot down words I’ve never come across before. That either make me sounds like a geek or perhaps slightly illiterate, but I read a lot of popular science and it can get quite…technical.

More often than not I can guess the meaning of words from their context and a dash of arbitrary knowledge. That’s because nothing is without context, nothing exists in a perfect vacuum, and that includes beer.

Luckily it only rained once on my recent holiday to Skopelos which allowed me 13 and a half days to lap up the piercing Grecian sunshine. At 36 degrees celsius to was hard not to break into sweats just lazing around with a book.

In such conditions you wouldn’t dream of picking up the same types of beers as you would at home. No matter how much a dry pale ale is perfect with the saltiness of olives or how much a German weisse would compliment the crispiness of a Greek salad, it’s just too hot for everything.

Everything that is except Mythos.

Without meaning to labour on my love for Mythos (I actually drank more Amstel on this holiday once the sun had gone down) Mythos rightly deserves it’s name and holds a special place in beer folklore. Mythos is a mythical creature that brings with it dismay and disappointment when drunk anywhere outside Hellenic border controls, yet chilled to within a inch of it’s life and deployed at critical moments of a boiling hot day on a Greek island, it’s  powers to revive might only be bettered by a cardiac defibrillator.

Admiring the distant olive groves and drying off after a dip in the swimming pool, Mythos is just…perfect. Nothing more, nothing less.

And in the context of the above weather conditions, Mythos is the best beer in the world. Period.

On the last day our energetic shopkeeper asked me if I drank Mythos at home in England. She was delighted when I said it’s just not the same without the sun and the backdrop of Greece. “Everyone says that!” she exclaimed, wondering how such a thing could be true.

Tags: Context, greece, Mediterranean, mythos

Alcoholic fruit squash

2

Why buy fresh fruit smoothies when you can have beer instead?!

Remember Reefs? Smirnoff Ices?

Remember Hooch and Barcardi Breezers?

Well this summer you might struggle to fnd the above, but fear not as beer has come to the rescue. If you want sweet fruity flavours and a drink to get you a little on the tipsy side, why fork out for dirt cheap alcopops when you have quality on your side:

Kernel Centennial Pale Ale

Um Bongo aroma with a touch of Blackcurrant Ribena. ABV of 5.4% and a body of yoghurt and oats, it simply glides down your throat like Yop. Not too bitter, though the  bitterness that there is lingers long-time…

This beer knocks most pale ales for six and is quite frankly amazing. I was lucky enough to get this as an added extra from my #beerswap partner and it outshone the other brews. Beers like this can make a brewery…if it’s not a fluke then Kernel have a lot to live up to.

Halcyon by Thornbridge
(2009 Green hopped, oh yeah!)

It’s more tropical than last years Halcyon, the dominance of grass in the nose has disappeared in favour of exotic fruit. I used to love that damn prairie grass, but hell do I now crave that beautiful pineapple explosion.

What a quandary! What hops have they changed or replaced? You may have sold out your grass roots Thornbridge, but you’ve replaced them with a beer that I could have sex with.

Thornbridge Halcyon is Innocent Smoothie on acid (or something stronger). Get me another fix, now.

Marble Manchester Bitter

A passion fruit hell pit, this is the sort of beer Adam threw away paradise for. And rightly so, Adam, who wants a garden of fruit trees bending under the weight of it’s luscious produce when you can sit back and knock the crown cap of a Manchester Bitter. I’d give up my Eve and all pasta based dishes for this beer. I’d be tempted to call Charlie Brooker’s bluff and offer a little finger perhaps. Maybe even a thumb. I’ll definitely give up all hoofed animals to maintain the existence of this beer perhaps in doing so rid the world of half it’s methane emissions too.

This might just be the beer that saves the world.

Beer information:

Beer: Centennial Pale Ale
Brewery: Kernel Brewery
Style: London Pale Ale
ABV: 5.4%
Area: London, England

Beer: Thornbridge Halcyon
Brewery: Thornbridge Brewery
Style: Imperial IPA
ABV: 7.7%
Area: Derbyshire, England

Beer: Manchester Bitter
Brewery: Marble
Style: Bitter
ABV: 4.2%
Country: Manchester, England

Thanks to mybrewerytap and beermerchants for supplying the beer. Yep, they were freebies, and I’m proud to say I’d pay a significant amount of my hard earned cash to drink these again. Which I have actually just done. And I would recommend that you also try them.

Tags: kernel, marble, thornbridge

A garden kind of guy

2

We went to look at a house tonight. ‘Converted chapel in historic Yorkshire mill town‘ certainly has a ring to it, even if it’s probably a bit of a pretentious shrill these days. Still, our jaws had dropped at the 3 bedrooms and 3 bathrooms over 3 floors, connected with a central spiral staircase and an attic living area that holds 100 people, all for under £195k. We had to look.

Despite the en suite shower wet room, integrated sound system, gated forecourt, all-in-one central kitchen unit and 8 foot (yes, 8 foot wide!) projector system in the attic/lounge I was disillusioned at the lack of garden space. Sitting in my ‘living area’ looking down on the Victorian park through my electric skylights I’d be comfy enough, but unfulfilled. A summer beer ain’t a beer if you’re not in the garden.

“I’m not really in t’garden” says the vendor. “Spen’dya ‘ole life wurking Satd’ys t’ave a barbecue on Sund’y’s…not for me”.

Now I’m no green fingers, but I enjoyed landscaping the garden so that now I can sit and relax in it. I enjoy watering the easy-to-maintain shrubbery and even delighting at the garden lilies when they burst skyward in their orange, yellow and angel white glory. A sweep of the patio in the morning, a few weeds pulled up here and there – it’s all in the aid of that perfect evening sat with a beer, watching the sun fall behind the neighbours trees and the line of semi-detached gables turn orange and then rusty brown.

It’s not like I give up every Saturday. And when I do have to delve into the garage for my rake and strimmer, an afternoon in the garden means tops off, skins on and organic debris everywhere. Working up a sweat means ham and cheese on soda bread and a bottle of cold beer to cool down.

Gardening should be leisure and that’s why you can take your intercom and your walk in wardrobe; you can shove your separate laundry room and guest bedroom floor; I’m not fussed about the lights you designed yourself or the remote controlled garage door. I’m happy looking in through your high arched windows and knowing that I’m walking home to my garden. And hopefully a glass of beer.

If any of you London folk are still speechless at the price, I advise you to move up North. The nearest local pub to the ‘house’ we viewed sells Sam Smith’s bitter at less than £1.30 a pint and local butchers Wilson’s do the world’s best all meat pork pies for 85p. The North’s where it’s at folks 9as long as you can find a beer garden).

Tags: beer at home, drinking at home, Garden

An Ilkley Bar Baht’ Coffee

1

I’ll be going back to Bar t’at, Ilkley’s ‘North Bar’, because the first time around I wasn’t bowled over. We didn’t need to comment to the forgetful bartender, he only had to see the look on my Dad’s face.

Suffice to say my pint of Thornbridge Hopton was just the ticket and our longer than expected wait for my mums coffee gave us the chance to admire a host of brewery related posters and paraphernalia. Our beloved Hooky took pride of place over the stairs whilst Sheps, Brakspear, Harvey’s and Bass adorned the walls around our table.

There was even some Belgian bits and bobs hiding way up towards the ceiling, including a prominent pink elephant poking his head up above the doorway.

We even had time to piece together the West Yorkshire dialect that litters the wall, with it’s talk of unfortunate lovers, worms and ducks.

Nil points for the service (we’re blaming it on the lack of hats, or even Mary Jane) although that’s only because it was my Mum who got the worlds smallest coffee after the worlds longest wait (if it had happened to anyone else I’d have just used the opportunity for another pint).

Bar t’at will certainly get a second chance though and I’ll be jumping on the train from Leeds one weekend to drink the hand pulls and the fridges dry, hopefully to the point where I’m singing along to the walls even though I can’t read them.

Anyone fancy it? Read the rest of this entry »

Tags: bar t'at, Bass, brakspear, harveys, Hook Norton Brewery, ilkley, shepherd neame, West Yorkshire, yorkshire

Mac’s Gold All Malt Lager

5

Mac’s Gold All Malt Lager would simply fly off the shelves if you stuck it in UK supermarkets.

It’s the perfect barbecue beer: it’s lager, it’s sweet golden nectar with just a hint of pilsner influence from the brewer. It’s gimmicky ring pull gives it points simply for the lack of dependence on those pesky bottle openers that inevitably go missing mid-way through the evening, lost in decorative stones or knocked off a low brick wall into a thicket of patio plants. It happens, you know it does.

Mac’s doesn’t distinguish itself by being different, bold or arrogant. It’s simply good lager – a sweet not-a-million-miles-from-honey twang. Hops don’t dominate, in fact hey barely offer any bitterness to counter the sweetness infused by the malt. This is probably the endearing factor that might make Mac’s Gold suitable to beer lovers from all walks of life, even hop head vampires whose blood runs thick with DIPA. I believe they have a predisposition to chilled wholesome lager anyway. Even BrewDog James.

Tell me I’ve been done by the fact it looks different to the others. Tell me actually its not better than San Miguel, Sam Adams or even Sam Smith’s Alpine.

I’ll say ‘whatever’ – whether it’s branding or body copy, Mac’s should be brewed on license over here, because it’s a winner through and through.

Tags: BBQ, macs gold, new zealand

La Mojito del Leeds

2

In the middle of the hustle and bustle of Leeds Waterfront Festival, tucked away in the corner of Brewery Wharf, something drew our merry group towards the oversized Havana Club banners. Even if we’d had to pay for the privilege I’d have jumped at the chance to make cocktails on a lazy Saturday afternoon. The fact it was free and we’d sunk a couple of cold Coors Lights meant we wasted no time in reserving a session at the stall.

Our lovely Scottish cocktail expert introduced us to the strange implements laid out like a surgeon’s table – the graters, knives and Hawthorn strainers – and forced a shot of Havana Club down our necks to ensure we could ‘appreciate’ the taste of the rum on it’s own.

We donned our uniform of pinnys (and for some reason baseball caps) and proceeded to create rum-based cocktails such as El Presidenté and the very Cuban La Bodequito del Medio Mojito. Fresh limes, mint (stalk ‘n all) and orange zest were thrown together in vigorous concoctions along with sparkling water, sugar, ice and various incarnations of Havana Club, from the standard Blanco and 3 year aged versions to the Añejo 7 Años, a darker more luxurious spirit with characteristics similar to oak aged beers, wines or whiskies –  a touch of vanilla and fruit in amongst the pang of the alcohol to make it slightly more bearable.

We were half-cut, drenched in sunshine and giddy enough to shake our stuff creating daiquiris all afternoon. We finished up with an inter-group competition to serve our delightful host with the perfect El Presidenté. I came second, ousted by a dubiously large amount of orange zest applied to the winning drink.

I’ve no idea why Havana Club chose to take a stall at Leeds Waterfront festival, or why they chose to give away free cocktail making sessions to the happy revellers. I’m glad they did though, as it turned out to be one of the highlights of the day, and we left with sunny and well lubricated dispositions just as the drizzle started to break up the al fresco party.

Tags: cocktails, havana club, leeds, rum

Sam Smiths Organic Strawberry Fruit Beer

4

One word sums up Sam’l Smith’s Organic Strawberry Beer, and that’s jam. Borne upon the pesticide free tentacles of  organic strawberry plants, this beer is firmly classified under the pigeon hole dedicated to ‘Fruit Beer’ in beer taxonomy. That is fruit beer and not fruit-y beer.

The distinction between the two rival camps is  is black and white, determined solely by my girlfriends ability to drink a given beer or not. If she can, the beer is a fruit beer, if she can’t it’s a fruity beer. And if she hasn’t tasted it then it doesn’t pong of fruit and must be another type of beer altogether.

This is a beer so utterly dominated by fruit that it’s classification as beer might well be under threat. It’s genetic make up is more akin to Bonne Maman than real ale; a syrup of sticky, fizzy Panda pops and Taste the Difference summer berry preserve. By no means is the taste of British field strawberries, it’s plump, tinned strawbeeries on ice cream, doused in sugar and sweetener.

And by and large, it’s utterly divine – a sugar coated iceberg to blast your mouth free of anything savoury and replace it with unbridled strawberry sweetness.

You might not want more than one in a blue moon, but give it ago (it would have made a good accompaniment to Wimbledon!) because after the initial shock, Sam Smith’s have created a beer that develops. Take it slow and your reward is a growing emergence of sweet malt character that compensates you for your glucose overdose. And it just about makes this something  more than a quaint and quirky gimmick.

Beer information:
Beer: Organic Strawberry Fruit Beer
Brewery: Samuel Smith
Style: Fruit Beer
ABV: 5.1%
Country: England

Tags: jam, sam smiths, strawberry

Ivanhoe English Pale Ale

0

The guy behind the counter looks as decrepit as the shop, and the shop doesn’t even look open, it’s grape-bordered window dressing might be confused for a long boarded up newsagents. It leans against Ladbrokes on the Dereham Road,  just a short walk (and not very scenic walk) from the pot-holed streets of Norwich city centre.

Ivanhoe jumps off the shelf, of all the local beers it looks the most promising (though in fairness surprisingly few of the local beer label designs would make Pump Clip Parade). Adorned with knights jousting, something feels right about buying this beer in Norwich, a city that was once second only to London and is now an oft-overlooked destination for cultural delights.

And the beer fits the bill that the label tees up – malty, almost sour and distinctively English in all elements (inherited from the English Maris Otter and chocolate malt, the Golding and Admiral Hops). Pale ales nowadays don’t often come without the promise of tropical fruit or a hop roll call scaling double figures. Ivanhoe redresses the hop/malt balance and if anything hints at English harvest fruit.

Ivanhoe shows that nothing more than a hint of the historical is needed to make a beer I’d happily revisit regularly.

More regularly than I’m likely to joust. And unfortunately more regularly than I get to ramble amongst the cobbles and wood beams of Norwich.

Beer information:
Beer: Ivanhoe English Pale Ale
Brewery: Ridgeway Brewing
Style: Pale Ale
ABV: 5.2%
Country: England

Tags: Ivanhoe, Ridgeway

After The Gold Rush

3

I vividly remember sneaking down the stairs, having long since worked out which ones would squeak loud enough to give me away, and which ones were the trusted, silent partners in crime. In reality the only crime would have been disturbing the rest of the family as I tiptoed towards the end room.

I’d pull out the arm chair and squeeze between the furniture that housed my Dad’s long serving midi hifi system. I pretended the record player was a more exotic separate with a fancy name like Stereophonic 4000 or Vanguard 625, rather than the faded black Panasonic box with double cassette deck.

This lowly stereo introduced me to the crackle of vinyl and the beauty of long player album sleeves. Crouched over this lacklustre box I fell in love with the toe tapping wonders of Songs in the Key of Life, the infectious guitars of Let it Bleed and the warbles and jangles of Highway 61 Revisited.

I distinctly remember finding the innards of After The Gold Rush; the tension of slowly removing the tea stained artwork from the sleeve and gingerly turning the pages, too scared to hold it lest the crinkled pages tear apart.

And aptly, I’m now sat at home after a manic weekend at Glastonbury, drinking a beer called Gold Rush. A few nights ago I was watching Neil Young on the Pyramid stage belt out hit after hit, desperately hoping he’d slow momentarily for the title track of his iconic album. We got the heart strings of Heart of Gold instead, and, surreptitiously for this beer, that kinda works too. We also got the longest encore in musical history comprising of the chorus of Rocking in the Free World no less than 17 times..

Gold Rush is  a fitting drink to help me recover from the raptures of Glasto. Golden, sweet, easy going, with middle of the road use of malt and hops that don’t give enough of any one distinct fruit to write home about. Little head or fizz make this easy to quaff (it’s not flat though) but it’s missing that special something to make it a regular beer cupboard fixture.You could easily get lost in it and let your mind wander elsewhere, which probably makes it the perfect accompaniment to a night listening to After the Gold Rush on vinyl.

If you’ve succumbed to the beauty of that then perhaps this beers fruitiness is slightly better suited in nature if not name, to Neil Young’s Harvest. And if the label harks more to America’s gold rush of the 19th century it would still look like pretty good sat next to that legendary album cover.

Beer information:
Beer: Gold Rush
Brewery: The Wagtail Brewery
Style: Golden Bitter
ABV: 4.0%
Region:Norfolk, England

The eagled eyed amongst you will notice that Neil Young played Glastonbury 2009, and that yes, this post is a year old, salvaged from the notebook after returning from Glastonbury 2010. And if you’re that eagled-eyed give the label a read, a nice bit of Norfolk history for you.

Tags: glastonbury, Gold Rush, Neil Young, norfolk, vinyl, Wagtail