The elliptical nature of beer

Elliptically the beer spreads itself out on my palate, a series of wide spaced dots of darkness-influenced flavours — a coal tar sweetness, a honey roast hazelnut hint of toffee and an iron hand of English hop (perhaps Fuggles) that acts like a whip to bring these meandering flavours to attention. I like it and it’s an English, West Country, bottle conditioned beer that has the gumption (or should that be audacity?) to call itself a porter. Oh who cares, it’s a beer whose soul has a depth I would willingly plunge into if it were a pool where a fast flowing river took its rest on the journey to the sea. Oh it’s Cheddar Ales Totty Pot. 

And who is this that walks amongst us, a dark framed figure whose shape changes as often as the sand in the Sahara? Black IPA, Cascadian Dark Ale, black bitter, or just a mere mortal of a beer? Who cares? What I have had in my glass this Christmas has been a magnificent beast of ringing singing hop diligence and dark tarry eroticism, a beer that once again comes out of the West Country, via West Point and the West Coast. Oh it is Moor’s Illusion, with which I have spent some time with and hope to explore more of. Black IPA — I kind of like it, its detractors remind me of the accounts I have read of some unnamed person who shouted ‘Judas’ at Bob Dylam when he started rocking up his folk (and did you know that the Stasi allowed their informers to choose any name apart from Judas — the power of names indeed). Elliptically yours…

St Austell’s CDA

Some bottles of St Austell’s Proper Black arrive in the post, for which I am very thankful. Had heard that Proper Job was going to get the Black India Pale Ale treatment so am grateful for getting the chance to try this little fella out. Just like the bottled Proper Job it’s strong, in this case 6%, so you can drink several. 

So, the naming of the beer first: Cornish Dark Ale or Black IPA? Who cares, the brewery has Black India Pale Ale on the label, but given that the idea of a BIPA seems to have been plucked out of the air back in the 1990s by Greg Noonan at the Vermont Brewing Company I don’t feel like getting involved in any style wars. Maybe it could be argued that this ‘style’ is similar to a saison, in that it’s a beer upon whose palette the brewer goes for whatever colour he likes (and after all, when brewing the dark saison with Otley recently we drank several Steel City Black IPAs the other night to work out how to get the dark colour without turning it into a stout). A moveable feast, perhaps? 

First thoughts though: toffee on nose, followed by a sherbet-like spritziness; old fashioned memories of sweetshops (and you don’t have to be an ancient to appreciate what I mean, there are plenty of themed museums that feature old style sweetshops these days): Everton mints, humbugs. There’s also a light hint of liquorice, plus pineapple or maybe pineapple-flavoured boiled sweets. Plus that nice blast you get when put place your nose in a hop sack at a brewery (and I appreciate that not everyone has done that but on the other hand a lot more beer fans have than haven’t I would warrant a guess, so hop sack stands). 

On the palate: there’s a fruity toffee character almost, alongside a subtle roast bite, some coffee beans, giving me a bit of an espresso hit without the jangled nerves; the bitter finish goes on and on, an elongated spiral of throat drying bitterness. There’s also a delicious citrus orange juiciness moping about on the palate as well. BIPA or CDA? I don’t know, but on the other hand, let’s say that this is a well-made and particularly pleasing beer with a Bach-like counterpoint between its restrained roastiness and funky citric fruitiness. Ok?

Cascadian Dark Ale

Interesting piece over at the Hop Press by the ever excellent Lisa Morrison (one of the contributors to 1001 Beers and better known as the Beer Goddess) on the semantics regarding the naming of what some have dubbed Black IPA — dark beers bearing the piney resiny hop character common to beers of the Northwest (the US that is, not Lancashire). Black IPA, as she rightly says, is oxymoronic. Now I’m all for mixing up styles, pushing the boundaries, moving on from beer perimeters established in the days of the Ark (providing those who lead the way know what they are doing — I always believe you have to be able to brew to style before deciding that all style has to be thrown out of the window, even Picasso probably learnt to draw), but names such as Black IPA are just daft — let’s have golden stouts or even clear beer (hold on didn’t one of the big US combos do that?); no let’s not. Anyway, what Lisa discusses is one name that has emerged to describe this new style — Cascadian Dark Ale. You can read all about the pros and cons here, but I like the sound of it. The name describes the Cascade Mountain Range, it gives a beer an appellation, it gives it a place, a home and a landscape with which we can paint a picture of the beer. And boy doesn’t a beer seem better when it has a home and a place — Bohemian Pils, London Porter, Burton Ale, Franconian Rauchbier, etc, etc. A beer without a home is a wanderer, pacing the streets, buttonholing strangers for sustenance, remembering, always remembering, before they gradually vanish.