Wednesday beer — Bitburger X Sierra Nevada Triple Hop’d Lager, 5.8%

Who would have thought it, boring old Bitburger whose beer is easy to drink but can cause a sigh of desperation if it is the only beer on the tap — who would have thought that the brewery would have combined with Sierra Nevada towards the end of 2019 (for the second time), ordered in locally grown Cascade, their unique hop blend Bitburger Siegelhopfen (also locally grown), alongside Chinook and Centennial to come up with this elegant lager, dressed up and pomaded as if ready for a night on the town, but cool enough to have a copy of Kafka in the side pocket. I suppose I’m being unfair to Bitburger by calling them boring, as its signature beer is crisp and refreshing, slightly bitter in the finish but — I suppose here’s the damning word — rather inoffensive, even if it’s one of the best selling draft beers in the German market. But what about this beer, I hear from an echo in the cave that is beer writing these days? Ok then, I detect guava and a suggestion of lavender on the nose, accompanied by a floral headiness, plus some spice in the background. Swig after swig reveals tropical fruit (that guava again) alongside a breadiness (or the aromas of baking you get when standing across the road from a bakery), plus herbal suggestions and a lingering bitter finish. This is a friendly and fulsome beer, which engages itself with the palate reminiscent of the joy of two old friends meeting for the first time in ages — I now have a plate and a knife and fork and on that plate are the words ‘boring old Bitburger’. Anyone got any condiments? 

Available from www.adnams.co.uk/beer/bitburger.htm

Jack & Ken

Jack is Jack McAuliffe, whose New Albion kicked off the US small brewery boom back in 1977 (and then lasted until 1982 — Maureen Ogle’s fascinating Ambitious Brew charts the rise and fall on pages 291-299). Ken is Ken Grossman who continues the dream with Sierra Nevada. Jack & Ken’s Ale is a celebration and collaboration between two pioneering souls (the series also included a mashing of tuns with Charlie Papazian, Fritz Maytag and Fred Eckhardt). This beauty appeared at my door, like an orphan in storm, begging to be allowed in, sometime in the autumn. Christmas and New Year passed it by and — truth be told — it could have sat in the cellar for ages, King Arthur asleep until his country’s call, or just a beer in hibernation, until an inner voice said: it’s spring, it’s beer, now drink it. Which I did. Black barley wine was the subtitle, apparently an homage to some powerful grog that New Albion came up with. First thoughts: in the mouth it’s luxurious and creamy, a version of luxury and exclusivity (Louis Vutton, Rolls-Royce, a berth in first class on the Orient Express); now back to reality and less dreaming. The nose pulsates with a spirituous swag bag of chocolate, mocha coffee and Sambuca while a spike of dry grainy barley cuts through the air like the swish of a pirate’s cutlass. The palate is a condundrum, bearing contrasts: creamy cold espresso, ripe dark plumy fruitiness, fruit gums steeped in alcohol and dusted with chocolate, while some dry, sooty, smoky notes add a hard edge to the generously chewy finish. If there’s a black barley wine style then I must admit it seems to me that it shares rooms (en suite of course) with our old friend the Imperial porter, but that argument’s for the medieval philosophers amongst us who rack our brains night after night deciding how many angels one can detect on a pinhead. A worthy tribute to Jack McAuliffe this, but even more pertinent: it’s just one big bruiser of a beer of which I wish I had two, just to see how it would develope over time. So if seen, snap up, double up on the snap up and then let it seep into your soul.

Lager of the week — Charlie, Fred & Ken’s 30th anniversary Imperial Helles Bock

Those who dislike the American penchant for ramping up beers to imperial strength can look away now. In the post courtesy of Vertical Drinks comes this Imperial Helles Bock, which has been produced by Sierra Nevada in conjunction with Fred Eckhardt and Charlie Papazian. It’s a sort of tribute to their work in advocating and writing about beer in the past three decades (there are a couple of other beers produced including a barley wine in which US craft brewing pioneer Jack McAuliffe has had a hand). It’s presented in a big 750ml bottle and is therefore ideal for sharing with your invisible friend who doesn’t like beer, so there’s more for you. Let’s take a drop. It’s the colour of Golden Syrup and has a rich, fat, bitter and alcoholic nose, all perfectly in balance as if they were figures doing their Tai-Chi in a Saturday afternoon park; I’m also put in mind of lychees if steeped in alcohol, while the petrol like nose reminds me of a Riesling. And just when I think I have got the nose to a tee along comes the scent of honeyed dates. These notes return on the palate, making me initially think of a Sauternes-like beer, a dessert beer — yet that’s too easy. It has a lazy Sunday afternoon, sitting in a hammock ease about it one moment and then a complex dissertation on the human condition with Joyce in mind next. My mind keeps working on it —a golden bock with a fistful of hops here, big blast of grapefruit there, oh and there’s a real gorgeous pungent hop character as well. It’s a luxury Helles, but it’s also pungent and dirty, robust and rollicking in its ride across the tongue; clean it is not. I like the idea of imperial Pilsners/Helles in the same way that I liked the way Joy Division ramped up the Doors. Why not fuss about with a beer, what works works, what doesn’t doesn’t (Doug Odell told me in an email the other day about the Wild Pils he tried to make — it didn’t work). So is it a style? Of course not, it’s a variation on a theme, a riff on a note, a symphonic dance and if you want to be basic, a pretty fine beer.