Cue Lakeland IPA, a beer that for one moment in time justifies the beatification of hops single-handedly.

The perfect hiss released as metal hits glass and twists plastic; an aroma eager to reach a nose and knock on the door of the senses.

Soft-fleshed fruit says hello – mangoes might not be typical of Cumbria unless visiting a certain kitchenware store for a peeling device that the kitchen drawer doesn’t really need, but here they add sweetness and a vibrancy missing from the evenings other contenders.

Wisps of unidentifiable flowers blend without any disharmony and it’s all finished with a perfect bitterness to leave behind a craving for just a little bit more.

Lakeland IPA, a fresh, floral IPA with a suitably apt bitter end

Beer information:
Beer: Lakeland IPA
Brewery: Bitter End Brewing
Style: IPA
ABV: 5.5%
Country: Cumbria, UK

In April & May we’re focusing our efforts on beer from Cumbria & Yorkshire, so please send your suggestions of your favourite beers from those regions via commenting, email, Twitter or Facebook

Perhaps why that’s why this India Pale Ale doesn’t burst forward with the verve and charisma of the ‘modern wave’ of British IPA’s. It has a more prominent hop character than the average beer and it doesn’t lack in the bitterness stakes either, but the wisps of delicate citrus and almost unnoticeable spicy pine needles are hidden under what seems to be a layer of damp, decaying hops. Over chilled maybe?

Marstons Old Empire

Perhaps that would be unfair, given the conditions and my exhaustion. I’m at the point where beer is beer and (at least I thought that) almost anything would taste glorious. And it does exactly what I need a beer to do, just not in any interesting or noticeable way. There’s few distinctive flavours that can be readily identified, no hidden complexities that ebb and flow and tease and excite. It’s a perfectly acceptable, not-quite-cold beer and that makes it just fine for the moment.

Perhaps Old Empire is something that deserves to be treated better, perhaps it’s something more refined than a kick-off-your-shoes beer. Perhaps I’m not giving it the attention it deserves, maybe I should be giving it the chance to be more than just respite from a day of spreadsheets, invoices and Google Analytics.

Perhaps I’m being unfair.

Perhaps I should have gone to the pub.

Beer information:
Beer: Old Empire
Brewery: Marston’s
Style: India Pale Ale
ABV: 5.7%
Country: Burton-upon-Trent, England

Punchy, citrus hops? Nil.
Alcohol? Deep, stewed and sweet beyond believe.
Apple skins & fruit pudding? Yes, yes, YES!

None of which gives Moor JJJ IPA much credence as an IPA. But then again this isn’t an IPA nor a double IPA. It’s only a bleedin’ triple IPA(!!!). This couldn’t be further from Green King’s bland and monotonous flagship brand of ale and is similar in nothing but colour.

By their own admission Moor didn’t brew this to style, in fact they encourage drinkers to ‘forget everything [they] know’ and not ‘”get too wrapped up in style pedantics”.

Peach brandy, trifle, aniseed and a touch of ill-placed butter could all be found in this swirling, mesmerising malt syrup, which places it nearer to a barley wine than anything that could accurately be described as pale. A wet, sticky, booze-and-currant-infused pudding of a beer, where fruit has been soaked in alcohol and doused in decadence.

So not quite the tropical nose or caramel body expected then?!

I’d hazard a guess that my bottle had matured a little and the immense hop content that’s put into JJJ had imploded under it’s own weight, much like a supernova descending into the dense afterlife of a neutron star. As a result JJJ was heavy, cloying and almost sickly. The bitterness was massive and overpowering, the thick, resinous nose almost belittling the subsequent attack on my tongue. Half a pint at the National Winter Ales festival was similarly rich and uncompromising on the palette, if a little more fresh and grassy on the nose, and lighter in the mouth.

If come across this at a bar, it’s repetitive Corona ball ‘n’ curves in bright lucid red jumping out at your eyes, then take your wallet from your pocket and sign it over to the Moor Beer Company and the pub who’ve been bold enough to put this on the bar.

We can’t promise you’ll like it but it’s one hell of a ride all the same. Neither does it promise to be easy, and that’s the only promise it lives up to.

Ooh, those serif curves...JJJ IPA is something to admire, and "not for the faint of heart"

Beer information:
Beer: JJJ IPA
Brewery: Moor Beer Company
Style: Triple IPA
ABV: 9.0% draught / 9.5% bottled
Country: Somerset, England

All of the above reminds me of my first bottle of Moor JJJ IPA, wihch led toa long night of soul searching… http://real-ale-reviews.com/introspective/2010/05/

As London beer goes though, this is the only one I’d associate with a certain nursery rhyme , for no reason other than Bengal Lancer is orange and lemons through and through.

A citrus nose, voluptuous marmalade rind body and a cheap grapefruit juice finish exert plenty of flavour over a temperate backbone of peppery-toffee.

This hops and malt in all their IPA glory without been obtrusive or over zealous.

In a bottle, Bengal Lancer has fast become a favourite from the supermarket (Sainsbury’s and Waitrose both stock it). On cask – if you’re lucky enough to find it during it’s all too short stint in London pubs – it’s equally tempting and subsequently rewarding.

Whether or not it would have found favour in colonial India, who knows. But it sure packs enough of a punch to stand out whilst being tantalising undecided about it’s ability to quench or leave you desperate for more.

Heritage artwork or crass marketing?

Beer information:
Beer: Bengal Lancer
Brewery: Fullers
Style: India Pale Ale
ABV: 5.3%
Country: Chiswick, London, England

Gallia Belgica this is not... An IPA this is not...

There’s Belgian style IPAs (whatever that is) and then there’s Belgian Style IPAs (whatever they are).

This is the latter.

It’s sweet beyond belief, with a wispy wheat-led aroma that places a strong sense of doubt on it’s IPA credentials. But treat it like a lady and there’s a distinct hop bitterness to it that belies it’s Belgian façade.

To say this is a mix of styles is an understatement. To say it doesn’t work would be…wrong. It’s a fascinating beer. At various sips and gulps it showcases flavours of ice cream, bitterness, lemon and a hint of vanilla smoothie – all the product of Euro/US hops and Belgian malt blended into a very light sandy golden beer of mammoth taste and enviable sweetness.

All that and I don’t think I gave it a fair crack of the Roman whip, as I shared it on a train home from London with a stranger who may have become an acquaintance had I not lost their business card later on in the pub.

This is one for the beer hunters and I’m wasting no time in tracking down again.

Beer information:
Beer: Belgica
Brewery: Great Divide Brewing Co.
Style: Belgian Style India Pale Ale
ABV: 7.2%
Country: USA

Flying Dog Raging Bitch - orange in colour; orange in taste

Of course not, it’s the other way round. Disclaimer starts here: I love this beer.

I first sampled The Bitch at the Flying Dog UK tasting in Leeds. This 20th anniversary beer jumped out of its take-home tetra pak like a bat out of hell. Its nose blasted my clean out of my seat and before the night was out it was on its way to being a beer phenomenon.

Raging Bitch’s Belgian influence is the first thing that strikes me: it’s fruity esters and yeasty sweetness that only Belgian beers can pull off. Until now.

Massive grapefruit pith and outrageous sour fruit intertwine with a sweet malt finish and a bitter attack from an armada of late hops. The nose is huge thanks to a dry hopping assault by Amarillo hops. You pluck out the names of most of Sainsbury’s exotic fruit aisle if you close your eyes; for me the grapefruit ebbs and flows against tangerine and apricot.

Flying Dog made quite an impression at their tasting session in Leeds last year

There’s moments when this beer doesn’t work. In short, fleeting moments it’s all a bit too much and the flavours clash rather than blend. But in a whisper the contradiction becomes a joy and it’s easy to become engrossed in your own self-indulgence (as your (my) tasting notes may also do).

An IPA this is not. Categorically. A wonder of brewing? Maybe. A great beer? Yep. It’s sublime, it’s mad, it’s uncompromising. It’s a great beer, with a terrible name (copyright Mr Zak Avery, 2009).

Rick from Bier & Co shows off a carton of Raging Bitch, Flying Dog's 20th Anniversary beer, and my Beer of the Year

Dunham Massey IPA and parsnip soup

On my return, after 2 x hamstring stretch + 2 x abductor stretch + 2 x hip flexor, but before my super hot sauna style shower, I popped open a beer whilst I liquidised the soup that had been simmering in the slow cooker.

This was part of a haul from the Beer Emporium in Sandbach, one of the first I picked up because I can’t help but be drawn to anything that says IPA on the label/pump clip. It poured very well for a bottle conditioned IPA, very clear, with a copper gradient and deep amber colour. Its nose and taste belied its appearance: I would expect it to be much more yellow and thinner because it tasted pale and gaunt, despite some upfront hop flavours and a little bit of biscuit.

The nose was floral and fairy liquid; the taste was bland and the texture watery. The hops didn’t provide any zest; the malt provided little sustenance. Without impact and without complexity or challenging bitterness this beer didn’t cut the mustard. It was drinkable, but because it was easy to drink rather than it being interesting, salivating or uncharacteristically smooth.

Perhaps my late supper (the unliquidised broth of parsnips and sweet potato left over from soup-making) wasn’t a good partner. Nor the last of Sarah’s milk and white chocolate Milka that provided my muscles with the sugar they’d been craving since the Tingley Fish Bar junction (about 6.3 miles in). Either way, I didn’t enjoy this beer. I’ll look out for it again and hopefully try in bottle and on cask. It could have been a bad ‘un, as despite leaving the sediment virtually untouched the last pour had a distinct farmyard character to it. But somehow I think it’s just a bland beer.

I’m disappointed as Dunham Massey sound like a brewery I could really like: they were relegated from Cheshire to Alty (and therefore Manchester) because of administrative jiggery-pokery and they create craft beer from a National Trust site, both of which appeal to my instinctive love for an underdog. I hope the rest of their beer portfolio has a bit more umpf to it (I don’t half fancy their Cherry Chocolate Mild!)

I pondered (as any self respecting vacuous nobody would) over the reason for this beers inherent washing up scent. I’ve heard Saltaire Cascade accused of the same washing up liquid nose, but as far as I can see Cheshire IPA doesn’t use Cascade hops, so I’m (with insufficient brewing experience) going to blame either the Fuggle or the Goldings that it is apparently finished with. I’m not sure that is the cause though, anyone have any ideas?

Harvey’s Blue label

The first of three Harvey’s beers, I was hoping this would nicely wash down a Thai green chicken curry. It’s a coppery pale ale and poured with next to no head. I was expecting something lively from this diminutive bottle, but it was generally flat and a bit watery. Having heard lots about Harvey’s beers my first impressions were a little underwhelming.

Harvey's Blue Labvel - I love the simple branding and label design

It had a really nice, subtle aroma of lemons and limes, and there was a limey tang in the taste. It was super drinkable being soft on the palate with a smooth mouth feel. It wasn’t very bitter (the bottle says a ‘delicate bitterness’ which is an understatement) as you might expect from a beer weighing in at just 3.6% ABV. There was a sweet maltiness in the finish. I believe this beer is dry hopped which may explain some of its character

This did actually live up the bill, kind of accidentally, as it did wash down the green curry well in taste and texture, but I’m not sure this could become a favourite, and I’m not sure I’ve had the best bottle of it. One to give another go…

Harvey’s India Pale Ale

Harvey's India Pale Ale

Having found the Blue Label a bit flat I was hoping the India pale ale would have a bit more kick. I was very surprised to see that it packed only 3.2% of alcohol goodness, which is low for most beers let alone an IPA.

I straight away suspected dry-hopping in play (I haven’t been able to confirm this or not yet). The label was actually ripped over the ABV but once I’d managed to repair the tear it definitely said 3.2%. So given the Blue Label was only marginally stronger I approached this bottle with some trepidation.

It immediately had more fizz and bite to it and was a similar complexion to the Blue Label. The gentle carbonisation was pleasant but there’s not a whole lot of taste to back this up. It was clean, simple and refreshing, but it won’t blow your mind hop heads.

Harvey’s Elizabethan ale

Harvey's Elizabethan ale washed down mince pie and cream nicely

Third up of the Harvey’s beers is Elizabethan Ale, a strong barley wine beer. Barley wine isn’t a style I have a lot of drinking experience with, but knowing I had mince pies to follow the Thai green curry (some time later!) this had been one of the reasons I picked the Harvey’s trio.

The aroma was sweet and the taste and texture extenuated this, syrupy and like sticky pudding. At first the spirit-like alcohol taste was quite noticeable (although I had jumped from a 3% beer to one at over 8%!) but after a few sips this dissipated behind peaches and demerera sugar.

This wasn’t overpowering as I’ve found with some barley wines, in fact it seems to be a family quality of the Harvey’s beers that they are easy to drink if a little subdued. Perhaps subtle is a better word. But I like them all and there’s definitely a role for Harvey’s in my beer cupboard.

And barley wine and mince pies kinda works too!

Harvey's Blue Label, India Pale and Elizabethan ales

Kent is his part of the country, and is somewhere I have never been, so it was almost guaranteed that most of these beers I would never have come across.

So here is what I received:

- Westerham Brewery’s Little Scotney IPA (4%)
- Harvey’s Star of Eastbourne East India Pale (6.5%)
- Hopdaemon Brewery’s Skrimshander IPA (4.5%)
- Whitstable Brewery’s Raspberry Wheat (5.2%)

- Westerham Brewery’s Little Scotney IPA

Little Scotney IPA is created using National Trust-grown hops which would suggest something of an overtly traditional pint. I couldn’t

Little Scotney: The National Trust hops are a little less traditional than you might anticipate

have been more wrong. The warm, malty scent is infused with a sharp fruitiness that intrigues, suggesting a beer that is stronger than its 4%. In the glass, the golden amber looks terrific.

The mouthfeel is extremely smooth and full-bodied; the fruitiness is pleasant on the tongue, whilst the hops are prevalent and really allowed to shine in this richest of flavours. The taste reminds me intently of one of my favourite IPA’s: Goose Island. In fact, I would go as far as to say that the flavour is the nearest I’ve come to finding a British equivalent to that beer.

The aftertaste flows back a lovely, warming bitterness that has a touch of ground coffee in the flavour. The long finish remains for some time; the satisfaction can be compared to a good Sunday lunch on a crisp wintry day – it’s that good!
This is a perfectly balanced ale in terms of the hops and malt. The flavour of all the ingredients can be savoured in every gulp whilst each brings something to the beer.

It is also a great advert for British beers. The traditional image of the National Trust and the careful, down-to-earth branding of the brewery make a neat little package that is thoroughly English but stands up to the brash, all-conquering American IPA’s. Definitely a beer I will seek to bring to the North at some point.

Harvey’s Star of Eastbourne East India Pale

Harvey’s are a company I have seen at a couple of beer festivals this year, although I can’t recall if I have sampled my next beer

Star of Eastbourne: A fruity taste sensation

swap offering: East India Pale. At 6.5%, it is stronger than the Scotney, something that was evident right from the moment the cap is flicked off.

The nose is extremely rich. Extremely sweet with grapes and apples particularly prevalent within the scent, all combining into a great looking dark amber colour.

The fruit remains in the flavour and does enough to prevent the higher level of the alcohol from taking over this factor of the beer. It is very sweet with the same flavours that were present in the nose (along with raisins being evident at this point), whilst the extremely full-bodied nature of the ale creates a combination that is a little sickly-sweet in the first taste for my liking.

There is a certain ‘softness’ to the mouthfeel that I find is common in more fruit-based beers, whist a slight bitterness in the aftertaste adds another interesting element to the experience.
And this beer can certainly be described as an experience. Right from beginning to end, new flavours and textures seem to explode at different parts of the glass. In all honestly, this was a little sweet for my liking (I don’t have a particularly sweet tooth in any sense), but I can’t deny that I was baffled with the beer for all the right reasons.

The key issue for me was the size of the bottle. At 500ml, I felt there was a little too large a sample for such a rich, flavourful beer. 330ml would have been perfect and would certainly encourage me to try this again; but such as it is, I would be likely to resist if I saw it on a shelf next to one of my old, comfortable favourites. A must for anyone who craves strong, fruity flavours, however.

Hopdaemon Skrimshander IPA

From a brewery named Hopdaemon, I was anticipating a hop attack from Skrimshander IPA. However, the scent was pleasant, warm and

Skrimshander: A must for the chocolate lover

malty, with a citrusy edge that suggested the presence of hops. The beer poured a lovely copper colour and was instantly appealing.

The lightest of carbonisation hits the tongue, and it is the hoppy side that hits the taste buds first, fairly refreshing with a certain warmth. It is the stunning milk chocolate aftertaste that makes this beer a true winner though. It is incredibly distinctive and isn’t too sweet as to kill off the dry, bitter finish that warms the throat lovingly in the way that only chocolate can.

This is a brilliantly balanced beer again, with none of the bitterness, sweetness and so on dominating any one element of the glass. It is interesting, tasty and intriguing all at the same time, which makes it a real winner for me.

Whitstable Brewery Raspberry Wheat

The title of Whitstable Brewery’s Raspberry Wheat beer was the bottle that interested me the least in terms of looking at the bottles (which

Raspberry Wheat: The clue really is in the title

is probably why I saved this until the end). Wheat beers and fruit beers are two styles that have somewhat baffled me in the past in terms of their appeal; although I would suggest that my early dislike of them has led me to instinctively avoid them from the shelf or the bar. However, this is what Beer Swap is all about: trying beers that you wouldn’t normally, so from this angle, I was quite excited to see if this was the ale to alter my mind about either or both these forms.

As expected, a fresh raspberry aroma is noticeable straight from opening, although a certain maltiness also blends into the nose. A deep, unusual reddish-amber colour is particularly cloudy, as expected from a wheat beer, whilst a particular liveliness creates a slightly off-white head.
The mouthfeel is very soft as a result of the dominant fruit, whilst there is a slight ‘dry’ raspberriness to the flavour that is supported by a warm, beer flavour. The beer disappears dramatically in the way that a dry wine does, a certain sharpness in the short, sudden finish.

This is an impact beer that will either be loved or hated in the first sip. But I would urge caution and don’t expect the feeling to last for the rest of the bottle. This didn’t really change my mind about fruit beers (that’s what I would describe as the predominant style of the two), but despite the initial shock of the dryness, I have to say that there is enough to keep it interesting as a glass of beer. I did begin to warm to it slightly and could imagine if fruit beers are your forte, then this could be a high-ranker for you!

Summary

My experience of trying the beer swap beers was everything I wanted it to be. Adventurous, exciting and experimental. Mark selected beers that clearly fit with his tastes, but achieved enough variety into them to make them individual. His hopheadedness was obvious in his choices of Little Scotney and East India Pale, but there is clearly a fruity side to his ‘beer personality’, and despite their differences, it was interesting to locate the similarities – subtle as they may be in some instances – to help me understand why Mark made this selection and why they were amongst his favourites.

Beer Swap provides a tremendous opportunity for beer writers and bloggers, remote as they may be from certain beer regions, to expand their palate and experience of the vast landscape of the British beer scene. From the brewers, to the bloggers and the readers and back again, surely this is truly an experiment that can only benefit all stakeholders in the industry.

I shall look forward to the first Beer Swap of 2010; in the meantime I’m going to find the best way to get hold of more Little Scotney!

Complexity in the universe is often based on simple, fundamental rules. We don’t know all of the rules but we understand some of them; however despite this, life is still, at our level, an unpredictable and seemingly random existence.

Deep Simplicity by John (and Mary) Gribbin is one of the best science books and makes my head hurt as much as a few bottles of BrewDog's Chaos Theory does

Chaos theory helps us get our heads around this (and then in the next breath turns our perceptions of ‘thought on its head). It also suggests that systems such as our universe are completely deterministic…in theory. But unfortunately we have to pinpoint the exact starting conditions of the system, which is a little more than tricky when every single tiny particle in our universe system was compacted into an unimaginably small space, a little over 13,700,000,000 years ago (plus or minus about 14 million years!).

This chaotic nature has parallels with the brewing process, where we calculate the mix of initial ingredients, follow strict processes and end up with tasty beer at the end. But we can’t always predict the exact end result and consistency and quality in a brew can be more difficult than just throwing the ingredients together and sticking the heat on.

As you might have guessed there’s a parallel between all this and BrewDog’s last beer in our Sainsbury’s beer competition series. Chaos Theory is an ode to chaos theory (although at 7.1% it doesn’t really help me get my head around the physics much!).

I might as well start by just saying I think this beer is absolutely fantabulastic. It might not hold the secrets to the universe but it tries damn hard to rock your taste buds and blow your mind

Chaos Theory - from simple ingredients a complex beer doth emerge

BrewDog Chaos Theory is a ‘predictably random IPA’, a paradox fitting for the label of this beer. It certainly isn’t a predictable India Pale Ale though..

Aromas of tropical fruit and at first, a very malty taste remind me of Trashy Blonde, BrewDog’s- but this has an added depth that requires a little patience.

It shares the exotic fruitiness of Trashy Blonde, but Chaos Theory differs in its colour – it burns brightly through the glass, shining deep orangey, dark amber, bronzey copper golden light particles simultaneously.

The aroma oozes out of the glass at a rate of knots. It smells natural despite the burst of mangoes, grapefruits and oranges and hits you nose hard. I can’t describe how nice the aroma is, every breath is rich and satisfying.

The taste rolls between biscuity malt, orange zest caramel smoothness and a luscious hop bitterness that doesn’t overpower the mingling tropical notes that ebb and flow.

It’s fitting that this called Chaos Theory because it’s a bundle of apparent randomness, brewed from a recipe of simple ingredients.

Am I getting carried away?

Chaos Theory was originally a prototype, winning the vote to enter permanent production

The first time I drank this I wrote some notes, but I never published them. The review said: “Chaos Theory isn’t disappointing, it’s fantastic, but it leaves me wanting just a tiny bit more.” After countless more bottles, and trying the couple of other BrewDog ‘IPAs’, I think I am going to get carried away and retract that statement.

I find myself craving Chaos Theory when I try other BrewDogs. It’s not fair to make this beer sound like a compromise, but it is the perfect middle ground between Trashy Blonde and Hardcore IPA.

Another great number from BrewDog, quite possible one of their best.

I should point out that BrewDog sent me some Chaos Theory a while back, but only after I’d bought a whole trolley full (and I’ve bought a good few from our local beer emporium since). In case you think that’s payment for a good review, it’s not – I love this beer.