BrewDog’s Dogma and the BrewDog dogma

Last weekend I was pretty much off the (online) radar compared to usual, and in the 2 days I left the twitterverse to its own devices it seems it all went a little BrewDog mad. With the revelation that BrewDog stitched themselves up deliberately over Tokyo, some people congratulated them on a point well proved whilst others bemoaned their tactics and deception.

I understand and to a point commend BrewDog for standing up to some of what the Portman group do, and appreciate they are not the perfect, unbiased solution – for instance I’m not sure that BrewDog’s labels incite anti-social behaviour as much as a Taste The Difference lasagne does. But, I am annoyed that they pulled last week’s stunt: firstly because they ignore the fact that the Portman group is an alternative to state legislation; secondly that they went out to actively ask people in the beer community to defend Tokyo, knowing damn well they’d sent the letter, and thirdly, does it really help an industry that some days looks like imploding in on itself?

As I’ve found with BrewDog recently, the sentiment and passion is no doubt there, but sometimes, execution lets them down.

BrewDog have moulded themselves into a bit of a cult brand, and one that is gradually making inroads into the wider population, with a rebellious brand persona that many supermarket shoppers and beer drinkers will enjoy and tap into. After all, BrewDog are still unique compared to the traditional brewers available in UK supermarkets.

I say cult because there is something dogmatic about following BrewDog, and I’ve no doubt that people hold BrewDog in high esteem. Much in the same way that they look forward to their favourite bands new release or the next big book by an author, people wait in keen anticipation of every move BrewDog make, regardless of what that move might entail.

Which leads us nicely onto Dogma, the second BrewDog beer review in our Sainsbury’s Beer Competition series (especially as it’s the 13th post in this series posted on Friday the 13th!)

Dogma: brewed by a Scottish druid?! A wonderfully sweet and exciting concoction but not everyone's cup of tea

Dogma is the reincarnation of Speedball, the heather honey infused beer that gave BrewDog their first really big PR piece just before we kicked this little blog off. The beer is a great idea and clearly influenced by all that is good about BrewDog – willingness by Martin Dickie and his brewing team to push flavour boundaries and to create something new and exciting.

The aroma of Dogma is potent, reminding me of the strength and herbaceousness of Thornbridge’s Jaipur. Spicy, gingery flavours mix in a way I can’t understand and I can’t fathom the seedy herbally overtones. I guess that’ll be the influence of guarana, poppy seeds and kola nuts then?!

This is a very different beer. It was a fantastic sweetness, natural like honey and berries, it smells and tastes unique (as far as my beer tastings know) and its colour is almost perfect red amber. Its composition and texture are also excellent. You can drink this at 90 miles an hour or over an hour and a half and it will settle to its pre-designed structure and retain, if not improve its complex flavours. Don’t drink it quick though, as a slow sip opens up all the sweet, spiciness of Dogma, the tree sap, bark and unique aroma.

Hyperbole and my best attempts at fancy prose aside, I don’t actually like this much. I appreciate it, and I like what it is trying to achieve, but I won’t buy it often. This is an acquired taste; the complex flavours are interesting but I don’t actually like the guarana tang and it’s a little off putting.

I love Reluctant Scoop’s description of a bottle of Dogma as tasting like an “apothecary’s floor sweepings that have been suspended in a caramel gloop”.

All in all, whilst I enjoy tasting Dogma and exploring it’s intricacies, it’s not quite my cup of tea. But I’m glad BrewDog brewed it.

I have to reiterate the sentiment of some blog posts I’ve read this week: BrewDog, get back to what you do best, making my taste buds tingle and my spontaneously combust with great tasting and bold, imaginative beers.