The BeerCast

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

Pubs come in many shapes and sizes, and are to be found in many unusual and varied locations. I’ve been to several great pubs near water, but never actually visited one on water before – until I set foot aboard the Grain Barge in Bristol, that is. As the name suggests, it used to ply a trade ferrying barley and wheat from Bristol to Cardiff across the Severn Estuary – being towed, as a ‘dumb’ barge it had no engine of its own. Built in 1936, it used to be moored in the Hotwells area of the city adjacent to a more famous rival – Brunel’s SS Great Britain. In 2007 the derelict hulk was bought by the Bristol Beer Factory and converted into a floating pub, with a dining bar above and a function room below. Nudged over to the other bank to a permanent mooring, it now overlooks Brunel’s marine masterpiece.

The Grain Barge is no gimmick; it was voted best bar in Bristol within a year of opening. The real ales on offer are all supplied by the Bristol Beer Factory, who are based in nearby Ashton. They began life in 2003 when a local architect bought the 100-year-old Ashton Gate Brewery and decided to resurrect production on the site. They have five core beers with a few seasonals, one of which (a 5.2% ESB called Exhibition) was on the night I visited the barge. Their regulars are Bristol Gold, Bristol Red, Milk Stout, No7, and Sunrise. The Milk Stout is multi-award-winning, but sadly wasn’t around when I was (although their Bristol Stout was) – with a tough choice I went for the Autumnal flavours of the No7 bitter and then the Bristol Red.

No7 (4.2%) is a premium best bitter – surely the most British of beer styles, and one which is perfect for a slightly chilly October evening. The BBF website states it goes brilliantly with food – and the £7 ‘pie and a pint’ deal was too good to pass up. Unfortunately the No7 was poured totally flat, the lovely dark chestnut colour untroubled by any trace of a head. That said, it was quite fantastic – the classic Fuggles aroma paired very well with the Challenger hops on the palate, and with the slight traces of ripe fruit, vanilla and toffee in the aftertaste, it was seriously drinkable, at a perfect session strength.

Bristol Red – or just Red (3.8%) was, as expected, darker ruby in colour than the bitter, and a bit spicier. Personally, I usually prefer bitters to red ales – and these two were no exception – but the Red was also very drinkable (and unlike the previous beer retained a decent head). It was sweet and caramelly, but with none of the cloying edges that some 80/- beers from up here in Scotland sometimes contain. Bramling Cross give the aroma to this one, instead of Fuggles, and I think impart a nicer smell as a result. Sadly after this second beer, it was time to leave – but if I ever find myself back in Bristol I’ll re-board the barge to try some more.

The Grain Barge, Bristol
Bristol Beer Factory

There are some wonderful pubs in London, many with histories stretching back several hundred years. One of these is Ye Olde Mitre, which was built in 1546 – during the reign of Henry VIII. There’s supposedly a more direct regal connection, as a youthful Queen Elizabeth I is said to have danced around the cherry tree growing by the side of the bar (one too many Bulmers maybe). In a city full of fake tourist tat, Ye Olde Mitre is a genuine article – hidden away down a narrow backstreet off Hatton Gardens, just by the roundabout of Holborn Circus.

As you approach down the short narrow alley, there’s an oasis of hanging baskets above the shady entrance, with large barrels for the alfresco drinkers to rest against. A small lounge at the front is complemented by a larger bar at the rear, with a couple of outdoor drinking corridors for the overspill. The afternoon I was there, quiet London chatter was the only sound filtering through the central serving area. As soon as you peer through the door it feels like a proper pub – the layout is similar to the West Riding style of some older Yorkshire alehouses. Wood panels and brass fittings are throughout, with old sepia photos of Holborn on the walls.

As for the beer, Ye Olde Mitre was the ‘Cask Beer Pub of the Year’ at the 2008 British Pub Awards, so you know there’s going to be a good pint or two to be had. As fate would have it, the day I was there they were in the midst of their (5th annual) Scottish beer festival – on cask they had Caley’s Deuchars IPA, Houston’s Warlock Stout, and the recently-crowned Champion Beer of Scotland for 2009, Sinclair Orkney Raven Ale. Coming down from Edinburgh, it was nice to see these beers served elsewhere, but I settled for a more local pint of Fullers Discovery. A hoppy golden ale, it’s one of the most refreshing Fullers’ beers. Served chilled (to compete with the lagers), it was a perfect choice for a hot afternoon wandering around the capital – as was Ye Olde Mitre.

Ye Olde Mitre, 1 Ely Court, London EC1N 6SJ
Tel. 0207 405 4751
Monday – Friday 11am – 11pm
Saturday & Sunday – closed (one of the only downsides)

The vagaries of work take me down from Edinburgh to Birmingham a few times each year, and although the travel and crappy hotel are never welcome – the Wellington certainly is. Previously I’ve written two ‘…in praise of’ articles on this fantastic pub (here and here), located on Bennet’s Hill just a short wander from New Street Station. This time I won’t go too much into the pub’s philosophy, only to say I hot-footed it there again as soon as I could, and tried three beers that they had marked as A on their beer board. Perfect for a summer’s evening quaffing, they lie on a scale of A – E, where A’s are light golden ales and E’s roasty porters.

A1. Pure Gold (3.8%abv)
Purity Brewery, Gt Alne, Warwickshire

Purity are the multi-award winning brewery from Warwickshire – their Pure UBU having been voted one of the world’s top 50 beers in 2007. On my last visit to the Wellington I was introduced to another of their beers, the excellent Mad Goose, a zesty pale ale named after an irritable wildfowl that plagues the brewers. This time I went for Pure Gold, an ex-champion beer of the West Midlands. It’s a classic golden ale similar in style to Suffolk’s St Peter’s, dry and midly hoppy, with the dryness continuing into the finish. The lack of sweetness makes it very sessiony and drinkable.

A2. Harrowby Pale Ale (3.9%abv)
Oldershaw Brewery, Grantham, Lincolnshire

Next I went for a new producer to me – Lincolnshire’s Oldershaw Brewery, based in Grantham. Harrowby Pale Ale was just as light and golden in colour as the Pure Gold, justifying the A-rating in the beer list. It was more malty in the finish than the previous beer though, and even drier. Still light in flavour though, with almost the same abv value nudging below 4%. One of the classic characteristics of summer ales is the biscuity aftertaste, and Harrowdy Pale Ale delivered that in spades. It reminded me of Inveralmond’s Homecoming Ale that we sampled at the Stockbridge Tap beer festival a few months ago.

A3. Forti-fived (4.5%abv)
Tower Brewery, Burton-on-Trent, Staffordshire

The final A-rated offering I tried on this visit to the Wellington was the Tower Brewey’s Forti-fived, a brand new beer from the small-scale producer in the heart of British (and arguably Global) brewing, Burton-on-Trent. They describe it as a ‘very quaffable golden hoppy mid gravity ale’ , which it certainly was. Unsurprisingly it had stronger alcohol notes than the previous two given the abv – although only subtly, as it still doesn’t trouble the 5% mark. It has a basic hoppiness, but to me tasted like a lightish bitter, which was eminently drinkable, and another suitable ale for the glorious British summer. Now if only the Wellington had a beer garden.