Session Notes: The Marble Arch, Manchester, 01.01.12

There we were, sitting in the Marble Arch on Christmas Eve, supping our halves of Stouter Port Stout when Jo spotted a posted adversing the MA’s New Year’s Day opening times. Which gave her an idea…

Eight days later we were back again, for dinner (venison loin for Jo, pheasant for me, both delicious) and our first session of 2012, which covered the following bases:

Moor Amoor Porter 4.5% ABV
A rather delicious glassful of mocha sundae & toasted hazelnut flavors with a lingering dry finish. Great mouth-feel, too. Very pleasant indeed.

Marble Trial Lagonda No. 6 (IPA) 6% ABV
I’m guessing the Marble folks are testing out a few alternate hop-combinations for their Lagonda IPA? No.6 is blessed with bountiful big IPA flavors: predominantly a grapefruit dry-sourness, with a hint of honey keeping it all in check. Well-balanced and easy-drinking but with definite bite.

Marble Draft No.9 (golden ale) 3.9% ABV
Another example of the sort of sharp, hoppy session beers that Marble do so well. Pale gold in colour, hop-led, with dry citrus notes throughout. Similar to Pint, but with more of a biscuit malt character.

Marble Stouter Stout 4.7% ABV
A classic on the Marble list and with good reason. Stouter Stout is a classic bone-dry black beer with an almost charcoal-like character, off-set by just a hint of dark chocolate. One of the driest, tastiest stouts around.

Dark Star Festival (bitter) 5.0% ABV
Jo’s a huge fan of Dark Star Original and was happy to re-visit a half of its label-mate Festival: as last time, it was quite savoury and dry, with a spicy-nuttiness leading the flavour-charge. Very tasty, very drinkable indeed.

Marble Pint (golden ale) 3.9% ABV
The aforementioned king of the Marble session beers – indeed, one of the best session beers around, IMHO, right up there with the likes of Fyne Avalanche or Hawkshead Lakeland Gold – Pint was on top form on Sunday: light, refreshing, hoppy-sharp but with a softer, fruitier finish than some of Marble’s other session brews. Lovely stuff.

Marble Chocolate (stout/mild) 5.5% ABV
Marble’s show-stopping stout/mild (they describe it in their beer menu as possessing characteristics of both rather than being a blend of the two) was as tasty and more-ish as ever. Rich, malty, packed with just the selection-box array of flavors that you’d expect from the name. Not too bitter, not too sweet, a well-balanced, full-flavoured dark winter warmer. Rather fabulous.

How’s that for a cracking start to the year? Not to mention the birth of a new annual tradition, with any luck.

Holt’s IPA – Not Bad, but Definitely Not an IPA…

…and does – or should – that matter in the slightest to anyone who isn’t a Beer Geek like me?

On Tuesday night my Dad (who was staying with us during a work trip), Jo and I popped out to the Holt’s pub round the corner for a bite to eat. With my meal, I had a pint of the relatively new Holt’s IPA.

Here’s the description from the Joseph Holt’s website:

ABV 3.8% TRADITIONAL IPA

2011 saw the introduction of our IPA, which has proved to be very popular in both Free Trade and the selected Joseph Holt pubs that stock it.

Our IPA is a very pale, traditional, English ale with relatively high bitterness and a fragrant hop aroma. It is brewed with traditional East Kent Goldings and Slovenian Styrian Goldings.

What it turned out to be: a pale gold coloured, pleasant, suppable session ale with a decent body and an almost entirely malt-led flavour*.

What it most definitely wasn’t: an India Pale Ale. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

The 3.8% ABV was an obvious clue. Most IPA’s are around 50% stronger than that, particularly traditional IPAs.** Also, that “relatively high bitterness” (relative to what, I wonder?) was noticeable mainly by its absence, likewise the “fragrant hop aroma”. I could perhaps have forgiven the ‘India’ appellation if the beer had been bursting with dry, bitter hop flavours, but it wasn’t. If anything, it was slightly sweet and, as I mentioned, distinctly malty. Nothing ‘I’ about this ‘PA’ at all I’m afraid.

So: I call ‘Fake IPA’ on this one. And that’s the end of it.

Except it isn’t. Because I have a real problem with ‘Fake’ anything and I’m going to take some time to explain why. (If you’re not interested in a discussion of marketing technique and theory, or just wanted to find out what the new Holt’s beer was like, we’re done; you can click away now.)

Still with me? Right, here’s the thing: I work in the Marketing (capital-M) department; it’s that function within any business or industry that gets the blame for pretty much anything (from production concepts right through to point-of-sale advertising) that the customer doesn’t like, understand or agree with. On the one hand, as a Marketer that can be quite irritating, especially when you know someone completely unconnected with your department is responsible for the decision that’s resulted in criticism. But on the other hand, it’s also perfectly understandable, because as a Marketer (and I’ve said this before) you know that when you’re in business, everything you decide on and everything you do (from production concepts right through to point-of-sale advertising) that’s connected with your business in any way is part of your marketing: literally, the process of bringing a product or service to the market.

That’s because everything you decide and everything you actually do could potentially influence an existing or potential customer’s decision as to whether or not to buy your product. In business, everything is the process of bringing products or services to the market. Everything is marketing, whether or not the Marketing Department is in charge of that particular decision or action.***

Which is why I say that by conceiving, brewing, packaging and selling a Fake IPA, Holt’s – and this applies equally to any other brewery who does the same thing (and there are a number of them) – are guilty of bad marketing, all down the line.

It could be that the beer they’ve brewed is actually exactly the beer they were aiming for: a golden summer ale that’s easy on the eye and easy to drink. Fair enough. But then, if what Brewery X has produced is actually a golden ale, then why not call it “Brewery X’s Golden Ale”? Or even “Brewery X’s Pale Ale”? Why include the ‘India’ element at all?

Maybe the Fake IPA breweries just don’t think it’s all that important. After all, their core market probably won’t be beer geeks like me (with an IPA-chip on their shoulder). Maybe they assume that the majority of regular ale drinkers will be happy enough to give a new beer a go and will hopefully enjoy it, without worrying for a second about what’s on the pump-clip. But that still doesn’t make it right to sell one thing as something else.

Maybe you don’t care either. “So they’ve stuck an ‘I’ on the front of a ‘PA’”, I hear you mutter into your pint. “So what? Why does it matter?”

To my mind: the best-case scenario is that all these breweries have done is recognise and respond to a perceived increase in market demand for IPAs – possibly inspired by International IPA Day earlier this year – by putting an IPA of their own onto the market. But then – for whatever reason – they’re missed the point of what makes an IPA an IPA and as a result, rather than attempt to create a genuinely remarkable mid-to-high strength beer with an impressive hop-profile, they’ve just applied their target buzz-words (“traditional”, “IPA”, “high bitterness”) to a product that meets none of those criteria and in truth is something else instead.

And of course, the worst-case scenario is that these breweries know exactly what they’re doing and have make a deliberate attempt to mislead their customers – beer geeks and regular ale drinkers alike – into buying a product that simply isn’t what it claims to be. In the worst-case scenario, Breweries who put out a Fake IPA are, in effect, passing-off a golden / pale ale as something else entirely. That’s false advertising. That’s mis-selling. And by either hoping or assuming that nobody important will notice or care they’re showing a certain amount of contempt for their own customers as well.

Then again, all that said and seeing as it’s the weekend and all, I’m going to give them all the benefit of the doubt and assume that the former scenario is the more common one. Even so it’s still a particularly dumb form of Bad Marketing, because Bad Marketing via Bad Branding has to be one of the most essential mistakes any business can make.

Marketing as a whole (remember: everything a business does) ought to be about putting a product out into the market that is genuinely, authentically the very best example of its type that it can be (based on the criteria you choose to compete on) and then standing behind that product and proudly saying: “We made this. We believe in it. We want you to enjoy it and talk about it and recommend it to others. This is our product and we’re damned proud of it.” Because let’s face it, in this day and age to do anything else – with so many alternatives to be had and so much more information available quite literally at your fingertips via the mobile Internet – is just a pointless waste of time.

That’s why Branding – sending clear and obvious signals about your product’s quality and desirability to potential consumers – ought to be about so much more than just putting an keyword-stuffed name to a product, in an attempt to catch the wave of current trend or popular opinion. And why starting the branding process off with a deception – even one that only a small (but fanatical and vociferous) segment of your market is even likely to notice, never mind care about – is an inherent flaw that’s always going to be pretty much impossible to overcome. Bad branding is bad marketing writ large for all to see.

So to flip my earlier question: what’s right with calling a Pale Ale a Pale Ale and having done with it?

Firstly, regular punters will most likely be happier because it’s pretty obvious what a Golden Ale is supposed to be and they can choose to try it knowing pretty much what to expect. Secondly, beer geeks and can likewise sample a new Golden Ale knowing that’s exactly what they’re sampling. They won’t have their false-hopes raised so they’ll have nothing to complain about and won’t end up spouting rants on their blogs about an otherwise perfectly pleasant beer that only fails on the grounds that it doesn’t do what it says on the pump-clip / website; because it doesn’t meet up to the weight of expectation created by that use of the seemingly innocuous ‘I’.

One last thought: maybe in the case of Holt’s (and again, any other Fake-IPA brewers likewise) it truly, genuinely doesn’t matter. Maybe they’re just not at all interested in brewing remarkable beers; the sort of beers that beer geeks will rave about online and plead with the likes of the Port Street Beer House or Mr Foley’s or The Euston Tap to stock up on. Maybe these brewers actually know their market pretty well and know for a fact that all their market demands is safe, familiar, unchallenging beers that are a reasonable strength and a reasonable price, whatever the heck the brewery decides to call them and that’s just the end of it, Beer Geeks be damned.

In which case: fair enough. They all can (and no doubt will) ignore every word of the above and just carry on regardless. But I still say that putting a Fake IPA onto the market is a misleading and deceitful act of false advertising. That’s still a Bad Thing in my book and it always will be. And I still say it’s a huge shame when any brewer – any company – chooses the lazy path of Bad Marketing rather than trying to create something impressive, something authentic, something truly remarkable, instead.

Then again, what do I know? I’m just a Beer Geek.

I’d definitely like to hear what you think, whether you’re a fellow beer geek, a regular pub punter, a brewer, a marketer, or none of the above. Hit me up via the Comments below, if you feel so inclined…

* It reminded me most of cask Boddington’s Bitter as it used to taste, back in my Salford student days in the early ’90s, and that’s not a bad comparison to arrive at.
** Martyn Cornell’s rather excellent Amber, Gold and Black tells us that: “The strengths, at least, of early Burton IPAs seem to be much the same as later C19th versions at around 1065 – 1075 OG.” [p.112] which in my rough-and-ready-reckoning is around 6.5% – 7.5% ABV? And most modern US and UK IPAs weigh in at around 5.6% (e.g. Worthington’s White Shield) to 9.2% (e.g. BrewDog Hardcore) or even higher.
*** This isn’t my idea or riff by any means, it’s one I’ve been following and reading up on for years in the work of writers and bloggers like Seth Godin, Hugh MacLeod, Guy Kawasaki, Chris Anderson and others.

That Perfect Session Beer Moment, Courtesy of Hawkshead

You know the Moment I mean. When you glance along the bar and, with fingers crossed, opt for something with a reasonable ABV – maybe a best bitter, maybe a golden ale – and the bar-person hands you a pint of liquid perfection. It doesn’t happen all the time, alas, unless you’re exceptionally lucky or your local landlord or landlady is extremely good at cellar-work; more often you’re handed a pint of uninspiringly flat, flabby brown beer. Which is why when you do have one of those Moments, it tends to be memorable.

My last such Perfect Session Beer Moment happened last week, at The Angel in Manchester. It was a Tuesday night, the place was fairly quiet and I was waiting for my mate Andy to turn up for one of our midweek sessions. I spotted the Hawkshead Lakeland Gold pump-clip, thought about it for a moment and decided that yes, I would give it a go to see if I could re-live a few fond memories of the hour or so Jo and I spent at the Hawkshead Brewery Tap last October.

Naturally, I wasn’t expecting it to be as good as on its home turf, so I was pleasantly surprised when it was actually even better. I was moved to tweet at the time that it was in excellent nick, but that didn’t really do it justice (Andy was glaring at me and muttering darkly about tweeting in public so I had to keep it short). It really was about the best stand-alone session pint I’d had in a long time. The pour must have been perfect (kudos to the lass behind the bar; relatively new to the job, so either a very quick learner or riding her beginner’s luck with aplomb) and watching the foaming head slowly settle to a thick, tight white cap was a joy. I would have taken a photo (hell, I would have shot a short video) if I thought the lads at the bar wouldn’t have booted me out for being some sort of geeky weirdo.

And the taste? Bitter nectar on the tongue, sharp dryness at the back of the throat, lingering malt tones balancing the fresh, grassy hops perfectly. Excuse me waxing all lyrical, but I’m getting misty-eyed just thinking back to it. Goes without saying we stopped for another before wandering off to see what the Port Street Beer House had left in their US Beer Festival line-up.

As I said, probably the best pint (or two) of bitter / golden ale I’ve had since my first drop of Fyne Avalanche last year and the best general session-strength pint since Wharfedale Aztec Dark, which I enjoyed back in April, also at The Angel. No coincidence, that: they really do keep their beers very well indeed. Well worth a visit next time you’re in Manchester.

A Trip to the Euston Tap Last Tuesday

The Euston Tap is my favourite London pub. Not, I hasten to add, because London isn’t blessed with a number of very fine pubs indeed (The Rake, The Gunmakers and The Porterhouse are my three other faves to-date) but this is the one I get to call in at, usually once a fortnight or so, on my way back to Manchester after a day at my employers’ London HQ.

Last Tuesday was the latest such occasion. London was muggy that day; muggy, musty and dank. A couple of pints of something to chase away the heat were most definitely in order. Scanning the boards at the Euston Tap – with eight cask ales and no fewer than nineteen keg beers, ales, lagers and stouts to choose from – rarely makes for a quick or easy decision-making process. Not so last Tuesday. I spotted Fyne Avalanche and knew it had to be done. Crisp, fresh, dry, hoppy, golden, cool, grassy and floral; it tastes how I’d imagine it feels to stand in the middle of a Scotttish heather meadow on a cool spring morning. Just the ticket. It didn’t last long, but it took the edge off my thirst a treat.

Suspecting this might be the case, I’d already got my next one in, and at 6.2% ABV, this was one I was going to savour. A new stout / porter from Thornbridge y’say? Oh, I think so. Evenlode is a full-bodied dark mocha coffee stout (or porter) and a beer of two halves. It starts out smooth and rich with a slightly sticky mouth-feel and a distinctly coffee-dry finish. But half-way down the pint it flipped: suddenly it was a sweet strong stout with a lot more chocolate and more than a hint of treacle, as if the sugars were all hiding down at the bottom. And odd effect, but it didn’t detract from a generally excellent pint. What with the Evenlode and the Marble Ginger Stout the weekend before, it had turned out to be be an excellent few days for top-quality stout.

Reaching the end of that one with a soft sigh, I realised I still had ten minutes to kill. Another half of Evenlode? Tempting, but perhaps a little heady. So instead I asked for a half of Buxton Black Rocks – an intriguing-looking Black IPA – but it had just run out. I went for a half of Thornbridge Chiron instead. A fresh, malty ale; very lively with a caramel sweetness, a hint of lemon and a long, lingering hop finish. Another refreshing and satisfying summery ale, just what I needed to fortify me for the two hour train ride. And I’m looking forward to my next London trip already.

Once Around the Northern Quarter, Manchester 25.06.11

Saturday night, time to hit the town. First up: a visit to the new Korean place on Shude Hill to take on solid sustenance. Baekdu has a slightly stark look, but the chairs are comfortable, the clientèle mostly Korean students (always a good sign when a restaurant is frequented by a lot of people who really know the cuisine in question, I reckon) and the food is very good indeed. Well, actually, the salmon salad I had as a starter was a bit of a let-down; I was expecting something Korean and interesting, but instead I got mostly iceberg lettuce and a few lumps of salmon sushi, garnished with… salad cream. But Jo’s chicken skewers were very tasty and the main courses – beef bibimbab for Jo and spicy, stir-fried, thin-sliced pork for me – were excellent. Food done, it was time for a beer or four.

First stop, the Marble Arch. One of my three very favourite Manchester pubs and a regular session-starting location. We timed it just right, hitting the early evening lull, and managed to get a seat. Up to the bar, and there was no question whatsoever what we were both going to have: Marble Ginger Stout. I was moved to tweet at the time that it was **bloody gorgeous** and I stand by that. A deep, rich mouth-feel, with semi-sweet, dark chocolate & vanilla-cream flavours to begin with; then a lingering, dry-sharp root ginger finish. The bastard offspring of a dark chocolate brownie and a ginger nut biscuit, in a glass. Also the best draught stout I’ve had in quite a while, bar none. One slight snag: I thought the pump-clip said 4.2% but on closer examination that turned out to be 6.7%. So, not a session-swigger. But still, I could happily have supped a few more of those over the course of the evening… before sliding slowly under the table with a stupid grin plastered all over my face.

Instead, we erred on the side of caution and upped-sticks to The Angel, favourite Manchester pub #2. Marble Ginger Stout was always going to be a tough act to follow, but to be fair the Bowland Black Dragon Porter had a good go. An ebony body with ruby highlights and a tight white head was promising. Dry, biscuity malt flavours with a raisin and chocolate finish was a result. Very drinkable, quite sessionable at 4.5%. Jo went for a Pictish Ginger (I think that’s what it was called). She’s very particular about her ginger beers is Jo. She’s sampled many, disliking the ones that are basically fermented ginger pop (too sweet) or anything with too strong a clove flavour (sorry, Marble Ginger and Big Ginger as well) and she declared this one a good ‘un. Again, we could’ve stayed for a couple more at The Angel (there was an IPA that looked interesting), but we had a stagger-plan, so onward we went…

…to The Castle Hotel, on Oldham Road. This place has a decent rep as a bit of a node on the Manchester real-ale scene, but for some reason we’d never been in for a pint; maybe because the last couple of times we’ve been past on a weekend night it had been hammered. Saturday wasn’t so bad; we managed to find a seat and then I sidled up to the bar to peruse the range of mainly Robinson’s beers on offer. I got Jo a Hatter’s Dark Mild (pleasant enough, if not exactly amazing) and I was going to have a half of Old Tom, but instead I opted for a pint of the Robinson’s Crusoe. A seasonal beer, apparently it’s a “double-hopped” golden ale, but it I’m afraid it wasn’t particularly hoppy, or particularly malty, or for that matter particularly good. I ended up wishing I’d stuck to my original plan, but there you go. You live and learn. The pub itself was nice enough, although far too warm. We’ll probably come back and give it a fresh go another time, maybe on a Friday afternoon or some other quieter time.

Onwards again, and this time to favourite Manchester pub #3 (the order changes, by the way, depending on which one I’m sitting in and what’s in the glass in front of me) – The Port Street Beer House. The usual bewildering array of cask and keg ales and draught beers to choose from. Jo went in search of seats and I got her a Dark Star Festival; a deep chestnut coloured ale that was very pleasant indeed. I took a little longer choosing my own and, after consultation with the bar-fella, eschewed the cask Thornbridge Jaipur (which took some willpower) and eventually decided on a half each of Odell IPA and Hardknott Queboid.

The former was very nice indeed, even better than the bottled version that I sampled a while back, with a big, orange-citrus hop aroma and a smooth, clementine hop-blast leading the flavour-charge. It was cool and refreshing, just the right drop for an increasingly-muggy Saturday night. Alas, I think the Queboid had turned. When I sampled it on Tuesday it was beautifully fresh but by Saturday it was a very different beast; sour on the tongue and with a faint whiff of Stilton about it (and not in a good way). I reluctantly took it back to the bar and the bar-fella graciously swapped it for a half of cask Jaipur* with nary a quibble. The Jaipur was as Jaipur pretty much always is: a hoppy blast of liquid sunshine and a pure joy to end the evening on.

* It occurred to me afterwards that they actually had keg Jaipur as well as cask, so I could’ve done one of those taste-comparison thingies. But to be honest, I couldn’t be bothered. It was the end of the night, and I only had room for a half after all of the above (Korean food is surprisingly filling, especially when you’ve finished off your wife’s bibimbab for her). Maybe next time, eh?

Manchester city centre is already blessed with a number of very fine pubs and alehouses: The Marble Arch, The Angel, Common, Bar Fringe, Knott Bar, The City Arms, The Crown and Kettle, The Bank, The Bull’s Head, and The Smithfield Hotel to name just the ones within walking distance of the tram that Jo and I drink in fairly regularly and I can remember off the top of my head.

Well, last Saturday Jo and I popped in for a couple of drinks at a newly opened establishment which I think already stands head-and-shoulders above the majority of the rest, and is surely set to be recognised as one of Manchester’s very finest: The Port Street Beer House. Here’s why:

First: the location. At the Piccadilly end of Manchester’s Northern Quarter, about 5 minutes walk from the tram stop in Piccadilly Gardens, it’s far enough off the beaten track to avoid attracting passing hoardes of alcopop-seeking teeny-boppers (is that the right technical term? I’m terribly out of touch these days). Perfect.

Next: the pub itself. From the highly polished wooden flooring (which is quite lovely) to the sophisticated decor, muted lighting, eclectic-yet-comfortable furnishings in the upstairs lounge and the light jazz playing softly in the background, it’s a very grown-up sort of space. Which is just the sort of space I like, seeing as I’m well over the hill and accelerating comfortably into middle-age. Again, perfect.

And finally, the beer selection. Oh, my word, the beer selection…

Five cask pumps, which on the night in question were offering beers (from left-to-right) by Dark Star, Acorn, BrewDog, Thornbridge and Prospect. Another ten or so keg taps; two more BrewDog, a couple of continental (Czech or German, I think) lagers, one American guest and some others I failed to make note of. And then a couple of six-foot fridges half full of bottled delights from the UK, Europe, the US and probably Asia and Australia as well, with another two pallet-loads en route, so I was told. To be fair I will say that some of the bottles in question sounded like they were a little bit on the pricey side. But then, quality costs, you tend to get what you pay for and we really are talking about the sort of beers that you definitely aren’t likely to see in many other places outside of their country of origin (again I forgot to note down specific examples, so I’ll make a quick list next time I’m in). Caveat emptor if you’re picking stuff from the fridges at random, is all I’m saying.

Anyhow, the first pint of the evening for me: Thornbridge Hark. A light, session strength golden ale, with bags of hoppy freshness up front and then a long, dry, biscuity finish. Very drinkable, quite moreish, easily the sort of ale you could stick with all night. Meanwhile, Jo tried a half of Dark Star M&M Special Porter. This 6.5% ABV, dark, rich porter was massively smoky and spicy (chorizo!) with sweeter liquorice to follow. Maybe a bit of a challenging flavour profile, but if smoked beers are to your taste then this one is definitely worth trying.

Next up, I chatted to one of the chaps behind the bar about just how bloody marvellous it was to see Brewdog Hardcore on draught and as a result ended up with a half from the keg. In bottles, this 9.2% ABV imperial IPA is pretty damn amazing. On draught it’s… just awesome. All the burnt-orange citrus flavour, dry hop bite and incredible tropical-fruit aroma of the regular version, but with a silkier, richer mouth-feel. Quite splendid. Jo meanwhile had gone for a freshly-tapped cask ale: Prospect one-twenty. At 4.0% ABV, this light malty ale with a dry, biscuity finish and a slight orange-citrus tang (think orange shortbread, but not at all sugary) was another excellent session choice. Jo said she could quite happily drink this all night and wouldn’t have complained if it was the only cask beer on.

At this point, I decided to step away from the monster IPA and renew my acquaintance with an old favourite: Acorn Gorlovka. This 6.0% ABV stout is smooth, dry and packed full of delicious flavour: high-cocoa milk chocolate (think Green & Blacks), with a lingering roast-malt finish and a faint coffee bitterness giving it a distinctly mocha profile overall. Very, very good indeed. And at this point in the proceedings, I brought Jo a half of Left Hand JuJu Ginger. Jo likes a good ginger beer, but this one turned out to be not quite gingery enough. It was cucumber-fresh and not too sugary (which is a good thing), with a tangy, lemony after-taste, but the ginger did’t linger (which is a bad thing…) and by the end of the half it was a case of lemon, lemon and more lemon. “Lukewarm lemon tea”, Jo concluded, and went back to the Prospect one-twenty for the rest of the evening.

I blame my early-doors dalliance with Hardcore for what happened next: a pint of smooth, hoppy, malty and delicious BrewDog Punk IPA – again, imagine the bottled version, but then add a good 50% to the quality of the mouth-feel. It was cask rather than keg and I have no idea whether it was old-recipe Punk or new-recipe Punk, but whatever the case, it was high-quality stuff and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Then I went for a pint of BrewDog Zeitgeist – their Czech-style black lager. 4.9% ABV, packed with burnt coffee flavours and possessed of an incredibly refreshing hoppy bite. Lovely stuff once more and I was very glad indeed that I’d been able to try three BrewDog favourites on draught, be they cask or keg, old recipe or new, they were all very, very good indeed. Then there was one more half of Gorlovka for the road and then Jo and I called it a night – a truly excellent night – and headed for the tram back home.

So, what do I think of Manchester’s newest specialist beer emporium? Frankly, I absolutely love the place. I’ll be closely following developments on the Port Street Beer House blog and keeping an eye out for new beers announced via their Twitter account. And whilst I’m sure Jo and I will still frequent our other favourite drinking places on a regular basis, if our visits don’t more usually turn into stops en-route to an end-of-the-evening session at the Port Street Beer House, I’ll be quite surprised.

It was a bracing Saturday on Shoreham Beach, lashing with wind & rain, drawing towards the end of a gloomy January. I thought I would cheer up an otherwise boring trip to the supermarket by looking for a few local Sussex beers I haven’t yet tried. I wasn’t disappointed and found a rather interesting trio of beers, all somewhat reminiscent of a warmer season, to sample over the evening.

Arundel Special Bitter

Brewery: Arundel Brewery Limited
Location: Arundel, West Sussex, England
Style: Special Bitter
ABV: 4.5%
Version: Bottled
Source: Tesco, Shoreham

First Arundel Special Bitter proved a refreshing start to the evening. As the name suggests, this is from the West Sussex based Arundel Brewery, unsurprisingly based near Arundel (actually just south of it on Ford Airfield Estate, where it was founded in 1992), famous for its castle and quaint tearooms. I thoroughly recommend visiting Arundel if you’re in the area – a very nice spot for a wander.

Anyway, back to the drink: ASB is a clear chestnut coloured bitter with a light, subtly fruity, yet malty taste. The liveliness leads to a pleasantly long lasting head and an invigorating texture. With challenger & cascade hops, it has a good blend of bitterness and aromatic hoppy-ness. It brightened up a dreary Winter day with its summery feel and made me very, er… hoppy.

Sunburst

Brewery: Dark Star Brewery
Location: Partridge Green, West Sussex, England
Style: Golden Ale
ABV: 4.8%
Version: Bottled
Source: Tesco, Shoreham

Starting life as a tiny brew plant in the cellar of a pub in Brighton, Dark Star has gone from strength to strength, winning numerous awards. The current brewery in Partridge Green was opened by Roger Protz in 2010 and produces a wide variety of favourites & seasonal specialities available all over Sussex and beyond.

Sunburst is a light coloured almost lemony coloured beer with a hint of cloudiness. At the suggestion of the blurb on the bottle, I chilled first before drinking. With a malty, slightly flowery aroma, this is a slightly lively, sharp bitter with more than a hint of grapefruit. The serving suggestion recommended drinking with strong flavoured food – I tried it with fried halloumi, prosciutto, salami & chorizo, prepared by my ever patient wife and it worked very well indeed. I’d say it turned out to be my favourite of the trio.

Hip Hop

Brewery: Langham Brewery
Location: Lodsworth (near Petworth), West Sussex, England
Style: Blonde Beer
ABV: 4.0%
Version: Bottled
Source: Tesco, Shoreham

Just two years after Langham Brewery opened, Hip Hop was chosen as winner of the Western Sussex CAMRA beer of the Year 2007 and retained the title in 2008. I chilled it for a few hours in the fridge before drinking and poured to reveal a light, partially opaque beer with just a few bubbles and a small head.  It has a noticeable flowery, grassy scent and I found the taste slightly sweet and very clean, with a citrus tang. A fine final beer for the evening and I discovered it was an unexpectedly good accompaniment to moussaka.

I would like to thank the brewers of Sussex for transforming Winter into Summer, for a few hours at least.

Brewery: Goose Island Beer Company [MyBreweryTap.com

These are the first two bottles I’ve opened from the winter US 52 Week Beer Club consignment from MyBreweryTap.com (and as I drank them last Saturday evening, my first two beers of the year).

I’ve never had either of these before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. Goose Island Harvest Ale turned out to be a toffee-brown ale with a lively head and a malt-sweet aroma. Fresh and refreshing with flavours of orange-citrus and a distinctly floral character. Sweet but not too sweet, light but not overly-hoppy. Very easy-drinking, even at 5.7% ABV, and all in all, quite delicious. I’ll definitely keep an eye out for this one in future.

Mild Winter was a much odder bird. A 5.6% ABV malty, dark brown ale, Mild Winter was nutty and slightly spiced, but had a slightly odd follow-through; the after-taste struck me as quite savoury for a beer that seemed like it ought to taste quite sweet. The tasting notes from MyBreweryTap suggest “spicy rye flavours” and the Goose Island website confirms that rye flakes were used in the brewing – perhaps that’s what I was tasting. Still, I have to confess that I wasn’t so sure about this one. It wasn’t bad, but it’s probably not one I’d rush back to.

Brewery: Williams Bros [Gauntley’s of Nottingham

According to the blurb, Williams Bros Seven Giraffes “combines an electric blend of 7 varieties of malted barley…” so I was expecting a beer that was rich and malty, fruity and sweet. Then again, they do go on to say “…with fresh cone hops from around the world, wild elderflowers and lemon zest…” so that might explain why it’s the big burst of citrus hops that really hits you up front and then stays with you throughout.

Those elderflowers (it wouldn’t be a Williams Bros brew without a decent chunk of Scottish countryside thrown in for good measure) and lemon zest provide freshness and sharpness – a faint acidity that makes for a tangy, tingling charge on your tastebuds – but it’s the long, dry finish that’s really memorable. And yes, there is an element of malty sweetness in there somewhere, but it’s definitely taking a back-seat to all that hop action. The overall flavour mix is nicely balanced and makes for an incredibly refreshing brew that’s extremely easy on the palate.

So, not the malty winter warmer I was half hoping for and probably more of a summer beer, all things considered. Then again, it made for a pleasant reminder of the warmer months in the midst of what, a couple of weeks ago, was looking like a particularly bleak mid-winter. I think I’ll have to try to get some more of these in later in the year, on the off-chance we actually have that blazing hot summer they’ve been threatening us with for a while now.

Jo and I have ourselves something of a New Year’s Eve tradition that stretches back… ooh, must be three or four years now. In a nutshell: early doors curry, followed by a few pints and then back home before it all starts getting bloody silly.

For the curry leg, we headed over to our favourite curry house, the Lime Tree in Prestwich. Always great food, bottled Black Sheep Ale for those as don’t want to drink the lout, and conveniently located almost next door to the Heaton Park tram stop. Which makes it very easy indeed to get on up to The Trackside in Bury. A great NYE venue, this: no messing around with tickets on the door, no fancy-dress-clad youngsters quaffing shots and making a racket; just a selection of eight or nine real ales, a fridge full of bottled Belgians, and a clientele of similar mind to ourselves. Spot on.

Wandering up to the bar, I asked what was recommended and the landlord (who wasn’t serving, but was on hand having a pint) said he was drinking Moorhouse’s Broomstick, which was good enough for me. One of their monthly specials (actually October’s), this turned out to be a very light, fresh-tasting 4% ABV session bitter, with bucketfuls of clementine-hop flavours on a light malt base, with a more orangey marmalade flavour as the pint warmed up a bit. Very refreshing indeed, it was. Just the ticket after a curry.

I was going to have another one of those, but then my eye was caught by the Trackside’s house beer – Piston Broke, brewed by Bury’s own Outstanding Beers. I’ve had this one many times before and it’s something of a favourite: a 3.9% pale golden ale bursting with bitter hops and a good measure of orange-citrus, it’s like a cross between Marble Pint and Marble Best; lovely stuff.

After that though, I was in the mood for something a bit special and I caught sight of a bottle in the fridge that I’d been meaning to try for a while: Judas, an 8.5& ABV golden Belgian from Browerij Alken-Maes (which turns out to be part of the Heineken Group). The barman – a chap I’ve spoken to a few times before, who I know is a big fan of dark beers and porters – warned me that it might be a bit on the fizzy side, but I decided to give it a go anyhow. It turned out to be a pretty classic Belgian blonde ale, with that distinct Belgian yeast-tang. It was slightly effervescent rather than overly-fizzy and had a lightly-spiced flavour with a touch of floral honey sweetness. A very pleasant slow-sipper that I thoroughly enjoyed, so when Jo suggested we stay for one more after that I had another one of those.

Speaking of Jo, she’s asked me to mention the beer she was drinking for most of the evening: Edwin Taylor’s Extra Stout from Bedfordshire-based brewer Banks and Taylor. This 4.5% ABV stout was an almost opaque black and despite quite a thin mouth-feel it delivered a range of flavours, with very strong, dry coffee flavours dominating the after-taste to begin, but releasing sweeter, blackberry fruit notes as the beer warmed up a bit. Good enough for three halves, anyway, with a Greenfield Black Five thrown in for variety.

On the way back, we broke with tradition by actually being sociable and accepting an invite to stop off at our neighbours’ place. This of course was purely in keeping with the spirit of New Year bonhommie and had nothing whatsoever to do with the dozen or so bottles of single malt in their possession… although it would have been rude not to, so I had a drop of cask-strength Talisker (again, just to be sociable). And then a drop of Balvenie Golden Cask (rum finished or something, not their best effort). And then a drop of Jura. After that then we headed home, to feed the cat and watch the run up to midnight with Jools Holland and his Fake Hootenanny (recorded a couple of weeks before, sorry folks…) and I toasted 2011 in with a drop of Caol Ila.

So, Judas turned out to be my last beer of the decade. Certainly not a bad one to finish on, all things considered.