The BeerCast

On a recent trip to London I needed to seek refuge from a crowded and extremely wet Covent Garden, when I managed to scurry to nearby Maiden Lane and into the Porterhouse – billed as Ireland’s largest ‘genuine Irish’ brewery (who can they be getting at there?). From the outside it looks like part of Aintree has been erected to keep the punters out, but once you get over the fences the inside is enormous – many levels, several bars, and all kinds of different historic beer bottles in wall-mounted cabinets.

Porterhouse are a chain, having been founded in Bray, County Wicklow in 1989. Four more have since opened, three in and around Dublin, and the one I scuttled into in London, which has been there since 2000. To me, it looked like an American-style brewpub (which may or may not be their intention), with long tapped bars and chrome and tile fittings, everyone there was very friendly. My visit coincided with their seventh annual Irish Beer Festival, which meant there were things on offer from other producers, as well as their own hefty range. I had a couple and then left, definitely to return at some point in the future. Although they serve their beers nitro’d under pressure (so are not classified as real cask ale), they are more than worth a visit.

Porterhouse Red (4.4%) Porterhouse Brewing Company, Dublin
Leaving aside stout for a moment, red ales are a classic Irish style produced by many breweries, the roasted barley giving a distinctive deep colour. Porterhouse’s ‘house red’ is served with a creamy head which takes some getting through, but the sweet caramel flavours come out eventually once the beer warms. As it does so, more bitterness becomes apparent as well – it’s pretty good, and was a favourite of legendary beer writer Michael Jackson, who remarked “It makes Caffrey’s taste like Tizer”

Galway Hooker Dunkelweiss (4.8%) Galway Hooker, Galway
As the festival was on, for my second I sampled a guest from the Galway Hooker brewery. I would have tried their Pale Ale – apparently modelled on the peerless Sierra Nevada – but alas it wasn’t on yet, so I went for their Dunkel Weissbier instead. It poured with a large head, but one that dissipated very quickly. It was very roasty on the palate, but not thick or chewy, with a nice touch of fruit at the beginning. Malt takes over in the aftertaste, and rounds off the flavour, which is extremely refreshing indeed.

Porterhouse Brewing Co
Galway Hooker Official Website

After the refinement of classical Bruges (or Brugge as it’s referred to when you’re there), we travelled the short distance inland to Brussels. There are even more beer opportunities here, as befits a major European city with a pretty rich history. We visited the Cantillon Brewery (see previous post), and also several bars and cafés – the most notable (and famous) being the Delirium Café, hidden in a backstreet to the north of the Grand Place. The street address is Impasse de la Fidélité 4, but it took some wandering along alleys populated with tourist restaurants before we found it, even with the street name.

There are three floors to Delirium, the top one is non-smoking, and this followed the pattern of every other non-smoking area we saw in Brussels – in that it was almost totally deserted. Coming from the UK, it was a shock to the system to be surrounded by smokers again – of course we’d forgotten how much it affects those of us that don’t – so we started up the top, joined only by a couple of middle-aged American men clearly on a beer holiday. As the place was so empty, the barman was chatting to them and helping them choose, then bringing each drink to their table – no wonder they were enjoying themselves. He even let them go behind the bar and pose for photos. In their honour I had the only non-Belgian drink to pass my lips during the holiday – a Flying Dog Snake Dog IPA (7.1%), which was predictably hoppy and alcoholic, and very nice.

But we’re here to talk about Belgian beers after all, and as there was a complete lack of atmosphere upstairs, we descended into the bottom-most bar. Things were much better here, we got a seat at the back in the raised area and picked from the ’select beer menu’ that was on the tables. Delirium is renowned for it’s enormous range – they were in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the most beers on sale in the world (I think it was over 2000 in all). Those larger menus were at the bar, and as the table versions had about a hundred Belgian ales on them, that was more than enough choice!

La Guillotine (9.0%)
Brouwerij Huyghe, Melle

We’ve featured Delirium Tremens on the BeerCast before, and surprisingly it didn’t do that well. I attribute this to the early days of our beer journey when we reviewed it – as it’s become one of my (and my girlfriend’s) favourites. I’d never tried La Guillotine before – which is essentially a stronger version, so gave it a go at Delirium. It pours a dark golden amber colour, and gives off deep alcohol aromas. The taste is wonderful, it really is a darker, punchier, DT. It really doesn’t taste 9% either, so could be very dangerous. Aside from the Van Steenberge Tripel de Garre I’d had in Bruges, this was one of the beers of the trip for me.

Queue de Charrue Brune (5.6%)
Brasserie Vanuxeem, Ploegsteert

La Guillotine was a tough act to follow, so I figured a change of tack was the best way to go. Sour Flemish ales are an acquired taste – possibly the hardest to acquire in the beer world (you need only look to the bottom of our beer rankings). Having not had much experience with the style – and certainly none that were pleasant, I nonetheless went for one to counteract the rich grassy fruit of the last beer. Picking a total random beer I’d never heard of (always one of my favourite things to do) landed me Brasserie Vanuxeen’s Queue de Charrue Brune, from Ploegsteert. The bottle looked old and battered, but the beer was actually pretty good. Crucially for me there was just a touch of sweetness that counteracted the more acrid flavours from the tart yeasts. It was in no way as bitter as something like Rodenbach Grand Cru, although still being quite puckering. It made an impression on me, that not all sour Flemish reds are the same, and was actually pretty refreshing.

Bobeline Blonde (8.5%)
Brouwerij Huyghe, Melle

Keen to try as many types and styles as possible in what was sadly a limited time in both Delirium and Belgium, next I went on to a blonde ale. I’d tried one before – the really rather good Bruges Zot Blonde, in the city of the same name – so went for another from the minor menu in the café. Bobeline Blonde packs a punch at 8.5% (the small menus in Delirium don’t have abv contents listed), and comes in a nice-looking artistic bottle. I found out later it’s actually produced by our old friends Brouwerij Huyghe, so I actually had two rarer ‘house beers’ in the Delirium Café. Bobeline was very sweet and rich, with a peachy taste. It poured a hazy golden colour, with a dense pillowing head. It kind of reminded me of champagne, with that carbonated sweet/dry palate and fruity tinge (although the tinges were more ripe stone fruits than tart green ones). Again, it didn’t taste anywhere near it’s weighty abv. These Belgian brewers know how to craft a good beer, of that there is no doubt.

Delirium Cafe website

I realised very quickly just how good Belgium is for beer drinkers – every restaurant or bar has a local selection that really cry out to be sampled. Most of them have a decent selection on draught, many are even house specials or are renowned for one particular type or style of beer. One place such as this is Staminee de Gare in Bruges, tucked away down a narrow passageway between the two focal points of the city – the Markt and Burg squares. In researching the drinking options beforehand, the house tripel here – Tripel De Garre had been mentioned numerous times. I’ll say right now that every single one of these people who mentioned it were absolutely right – it was the nicest beer I tried the whole time I was in Belgium.

Brewed by the Brouwerij Van Steenberge in Ertevelde the menu leaves you under no illusions as to the strength of the Tripel – at 11.5% it warns that they will only serve a maximum of three per customer (although I have since read that if you sweet-talk the barman he’ll let this slide, as long as he ‘keeps an eye on you’). As I was sampling at midday on an empty stomach I left it at the one, but the large chunky glass arrives on a doily-draped tray with a small dish of cubed cheese (kaas, in the Flemish). This turned out to be so good, we ordered a cheese platter to accompany – and compliment – the beer (my girlfriend having ordered a Huyghe La Guillotine on my recommendation, before I realised it was 9%). Anyway, it made for a pleasant lunch.

Tripel de Garre is poured from a wooden barrel on the bar, and so comes with a colossal pillowy head, at least a couple of inches. The aromas are amazing – alcohol esters, rich citrus, wheat beer notes, some mild spices from the hops. The mouthfeel is as good as I’ve ever got from a beer, strong warming alcohol mixed with the sharper hops and mellow sweetness. This mellowness continues into the aftertaste, where the strong witbier flavours come to the fore along with some flowers, and then finally the punch of the 11.5% alcohol, which remarkably is never overpowering. It was astonishing, I was genuinely amazed. Truly one of the nicest beers I’ve ever had the pleasure of sampling – and quite simply a must if you find yourself in Bruges.

Cambrinus is only a stone’s throw from Bruge’s famous Markt – the square around which all touristy things seem to revolve. The old bell tower, bike tours, restaurants and friteries all vie for the attention of visitors – but a short stroll away down Philipstockstraat is a tremendous distraction – Beerbrasserie Cambrinus. The old wood effect frontage gives way to a modern-looking bar bistro with brass fittings and a large bar, well-stocked fridges behind. The night we were there a large contingent of drunken Spaniards were belting out songs in what seemed like an opportunistic session – supported by guitars, bongo drums and – of all things – a kazoo player. But they added to the atmosphere rather than detracted from it, and we managed to get a table in the window and (most importantly) one of the hefty wooden-backed beer menus.

And what a menu – I don’t know exactly how many beers it contained, but there were hundreds I’d never heard of. Unlike the famed Delirium Café in Brussels they were all Belgian; all local. I’m certainly in favour (in theory) of a place like Delirium with over 2000 beers, but would much rather have a few hundred that I could only find in the country I was in (and that’s actually what we drank in Delirium too, as it happened – but stay tuned for that post later). The Cambrinus menu was arranged by style – Trappists, Wheat Beers, Fruit Beers, Darks, Blondes etc. There was even a small section of bespoke Belgian lagers. However, the largest section was ‘speciality’ beers – so given only a limited time, it was there I invested my energy.

Bink Bruin (5.5%)
Brouwerij Kerkom, Sint Truiden

I started off with a brown ale – one of Belgium’s most classic styles. Being from Northern Britain I’ve something of an affinity with foamy brown beers, although of course the Northern Belgians do them slightly differently (as with everything else). A totally random selection, Bink Bruin hails from the Brouwerij Kerkom in Sint Truiden, roughly forty miles east of Brussels. It poured a very dark chocolate brown colour, with a rapidly disappearing head. I was expecting something sour, but Bink was dark roasty malt with a portery taste. It wasn’t too strong or bitter, similar to UK porters, and shared that bittersweet malty aroma. There was a hint of caramel about it too, that stayed within acceptable limits (for my palate). It was very drinkable, certainly – a session Belgian ale, maybe?

Adelardus Dubbel (7.0%)
Brouwerij Kerkom, Sint Truiden

The second was also from the Kerkom Brewery, and I selected this one because of the added ingredient listed on the menu – Gruut. Adelardus is Kerkom’s Abbey-style Dubbel, and was named after one of the Abbots from Sint Truiden’s monastery – indeed the label features a portly monk spilling a frothing chalice of beer, so it may be the man himself. Gruut was what the old-time Belgian brewers flavoured their beers with before the use of hops became prevalent, and consisted of a mixture of about a dozen herbs and spices. As you can imagine, the ratios differed from producer to producer, but the Gruut traders became very rich importing and trading these specialist ingredients. Adelardus is tremendous – very balanced, and leads to a slight spicy, peppery bitterness that cuts through the sweet alcohol flavours really well. The Gruut (also known as Sweet Gale) makes this one really stand out.

t’Smisje+ Dubbel IPA (10.0%)
Brouwerij de Regenboog, Oudenaarde

In true BeerCast fashion I decided to end on a strong note, with a 10% Belgian double IPA. I’d only had three beers in Cambrinus, but it was 12:30am at this point and I’d already had a fair few that day (more to come on that note), so decided to go out with a bang. One of the more bizarre beer names I’ve come across, initially I thought it was simply Smisje IPA (as that’s what it seems to say on the bottle) – but the full title is t’Smisje+ Dubbel IPA (I don’t know if the plus sign is silent or not), and the label has a cartoon dog cramming hops into a bottle using a funnel. This and the abv should have given me some clue – and indeed so it proved. Paying homage to American Double IPA’s, this tasted like something BrewDog would come up with – massive, biting hops followed the violently hoppy, almost blue cheese aromas. This thing is a t’hop monster+, it’s actually spicier than the beer with Gruut added, so many hops having been pounded into the bottle (there are four different kinds added). Near the end I experimented and added the sediment to the glass, whereupon it went dark brown and became totally undrinkable. It’s a shame – at 10% it would be alright, just without the trampling hops (I have no idea what the IBU’s would be). It just doesn’t seem crafted to me, there’s no subtlety or balance about it, unlike other double IPA’s I’ve sampled. Although, it’s one hell of a way to end a night’s drinking, that’s for sure.

BierBrasserie Cambrinus

York is one of the best cities in Britain for a real ale mini-break, with any number of fantastic pubs that are within easy walking distance of each other. We’re big fans of several of them (see our BeerCast Pub Guide to York), particularly the Last Drop and the incomparable Blue Bell. But on our recent trips there, we’ve started frequenting another establishment more and more – Café Pivo, on Patrick Pool, just behind the Shambles. As with many alehouses in the city, it’s tucked away down a side street – the overhanging 12th Century black and white frontage no giveaway as to what’s inside. It looks tiny when you enter, the narrow downstairs bar is frequently packed – but upstairs is a roomier seating area with plenty of tables.

The key to it’s success is the range of beers on offer – indeed it recently won the 2009 Beer Range Pub of the Year in the Publican Food and Drink Awards. As a drinking city, York is packed with historic public houses serving local cask ales – Pivo offers something different (with the notable exception of Koko’s International Bar, which is very similar). As good as the locals are here, it’s a welcome change sometimes to sample other more notable brews – imported draught beers or bottles, for example. As the traditional pub trade declines, these hybrids are becoming more and more popular (see our two great Edinburgh locals Holyrood 9A and Brauhaus).

This diversification from the norm is tremendous news – at Café Pivo there are three cask ales on offer. However, they also have draught Bernard beers from the Czech Republic – including their extremely rare unfiltered pilsner (which unfortunately has never been on the rotation when I’ve been in), Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and one of their seasonals on draught, plus a permanent Meantime offering. We’re massive Meantime fans here at the BeerCast, and I remember nearly fainting the first time I saw Meantime IPA and Meantime Helles next to Sierra Nevada and Duvel Green, with three cask ales from Burnley’s Moorhouses Brewery. Shouldn’t more places give their customers a choice like that?

There are some subtle issues with Pivo, mostly relating to the size of the place. It can be a tough task getting served when it’s busy, as everyone gets funnelled into a natural queue to await the barman’s attention. Having no cellar means a lot of their beers can vanish very quickly (I’ve been there four times now and only managed to have Sierra Nevada draught once). But you can dig out classics – last year we raided their fridge for imported American bottles and cans, coming up with the wonderful Caldera IPA, Odells Red Ale and Ballast Point Calico Amber Ale, not to mention the sublime Anchor Porter. You need to be lucky, however. The Caldera IPA was the barman’s personal stash he was saving, foolishly left on display with the rest of the beers on sale.

So if you’re after something of a different pace to the sedate York freehouses with their cask ales and traditional feel, Café Pivo is well worth a shot. They’ve also opened a second bar, in Sheffield – so it seems good news travels fast.

Café Pivo Website