Prince of Wales Ale, 1929, Bass

I feel the hand of history on my shoulder as I take the cork out of the bottle, an elongated, battered-looking cork upon whose side are stamped the words ‘Prince of Wales Ale, 1929, Bass’. As I dig into the cork with a corkscrew, I expect it to crumble like the bones of a long-dead saint upon being exposed to air, but it holds firm as I slowly twirl the spiral of metal into this ancient cork that has lasted a whole lifetime.

The men who cut the barley for this beer have long gone to their graves, as have the men and women who picked the hops, as have the brewers, as have the men and women who corked and bottled it, as has anyone who had anything to do with this bottle of Bass’ 1929 Princes Ale.

Last year, on an online local selling site, I bought a couple of cases of Whitbread’s 1977 Jubilee Ale for a fiver; it was still drinkable, if very low in its alcohol. Once home, hidden away in the box I saw what I thought was an old bottle of wine, some memento of a European jaunt perhaps, a souvenir that had never been drunk. However, the faded label with the written name of Bass gave the story away — a pint bottle of Bass Prince’s Ale, especially brewed in 1929 for the then Prince of Wales, who later on became — briefly — Edward VIII.

The oldest beer I have tasted is the 1869 Radcliffe Ale, brewed in Burton, bottles of which were discovered and opened in 2006. All I can remember is writing down sherry and smoky bacon. There has been plenty of Thomas Hardy (there is a case of 1998 slumbering in the cellar waiting for my son’s 18th in 2016), last year a Bateman’s barley wine from the 1970s, Thornbridge Alliance (one left) and several Bass royal specials, including the 1902 Kings Ale. What I like about tasting vintage beer is the empathy I feel with these long gone brewers, rather than just the taste, the link with the past; it’s metaphysical and also quizzical in that I ask myself what the drinker of the past tasted when they popped the cork and poured? Is it a case of changing palates, a different approach to tasting, a different approach to beer?

So the beer in the glass was the deep crimson colour of aged Madeira, while on its nose I caught wafts of Bovril, blue cheese (Stilton rather than Danish Blue), solvent hints, a pungent cheesy nose that wanted to be sherry, though sherry was much more evident when I took a sip. As was beef stock, some sweetness, though the more I drank the more I thought that here was a beer attenuated out of existence. It was like a woody sherry minus the sweetness; there was also stewed apple, some cinnamon, a sour-sweet character and a very dry, almost woody, finish. I don’t think there was much alcohol left in it, but this was a beer to be drunk for the simple reason that it still existed. It was a beer that was brewed in the year of the New York Crash, and then hidden away while the Battle of Britain was fought, the atomic bomb exploded, the Beatles and the Rolling Stones sang, and the world kept on turning. 

Cooper’s Brewery — Vintage wizards of Oz

Sometimes I sit at home and drink old beers and marvel at the complexities on display — and that’s all I do. And so it has been in the last few days as my collection of Thomas Hardy’s Ale has diminished; a Fuller’s Brewers Reserve tucked into (I blame sitting next to John Keeling whilst judging at Cardiff last Friday, he just made me want to drink all my Fuller’s beers) — and then there were the two Cooper’s Vintages I perused at the weekend, one from 2002 and the other 2006. It’s not that I’ve been to Oz, but about five years ago the Covent Garden Porterhouse hosted a vertical tasting of all the Vintage Ales produced by Cooper’s. Present was the brewery’s Executive Director Glenn Cooper who told the assembled that the first Vintage was brewed in 1999. ‘I wanted to do something special, so the brewers made a quickie which proved to be a massive success in Australia and Vintage was born. The brewers then took ownership of it and they come up with variations on a theme every year — brewing this involves a lot of passion. We were the first in Australia to have a Vintage, the others just copied us.’ Cooper’s are best known for a Sparkling Ale, a brash and breezy, hopped and happy in the glass Australian ale, but I’m also over fond of their roasty-toasty stout that used to be in the UK. 

Anyway, there I was on Sunday, back from walking the dog and a pint or two of Tribute (us country folk have such benign pleasures) and I thought why not go vintage? Funnily enough first up was the 2006 (I thought I would only have one). This was tan/chestnut brown in the glass and offered up a clovey, medicinal, dandelion and burdock character on the palate, appetising, chewy, contemplative; there was brisk carbonation, not too frisky, a young dog who has learnt the rudiments of obedience but still carries within the spirit of puppydom; it was very refreshing for 7.5%. Then, wanting more, I tried the 2002 — this was still and limpid in the glass, had a darker chestnut brown colour. There was fruitcake, raisin, marzipan plus a hint of berry (raspberry?) on the palate; again this was very refreshing, while its finish was dry with hints of the raspberry fruitiness coming back again. These were great beers, though I do think that the 2002 was starting to lose its edge. And just for the sake of it, because it was Sunday evening, I opened the bottle of Turbo Yeast Utter Abhorrence from Beyond the Ninth Level of Hades II that Stuart Howe in his Christian kindness had sent me — in a brief nutshell of madness I drank deeply. It was dark plum in colour, whisky-like, medicinal on the nose; thick and tarry on the palate, with a hint of woodruff, long lasting in the finish like a big bell clanging away. An imperious beer that I rather liked though at 23% I don’t think I could drink many of these.

Out of interest, here are my tasting notes from the 2006 tasting 

Cooper’s Vintage Ale 1999, 7.1%

Reddish-copper in colour, it is cloudy in the glass. The nose is rich fruitcake, raisins, orange marmalade, warming alcohol and boiled sweets; a complex palate includes rich Bakewell tart, almonds, a dessert wine such as an orange Muscat. The finish is bittersweet and fruity. This is a rich and stately ale, which could be started to show its age.

Cooper’s Vintage Ale 2000, 7.4%

Saaz joins Pride of Ringwood in the copper. The colour is caramel brown; it is not as deep a reddish tint as the first beer. The nose is cherry, peachy and slightly peppery. There’s a big mouth feel, more sprightly conditioning on the palate and an almost gueuze-like orange fruitiness. Once again it’s a bittersweet fruity finish.

Cooper’s Vintage 2002, 7.4/7.5%

Pride of Ringwood plus Hersbrucker. The colour is orange-brown, deeper in colour than the last. The nose is perfumy, and joined by boiled sweets and a slight hint of woodiness. Toffee, caramel, flowery hints and sweet Muscat dessert wine all vie for attention on the palate, while the finish is dry and slightly sweet.

Cooper’s Vintage Ale 2004, 7.5%

Pride of Ringwood plus Hersbrucker, Saaz and Cascade. This light-chestnut red coloured ale is the most bitterest we have had. The nose is cherry, hop resins and the faint call of citrus orange. The palate stings with its bitterness, though balance is restored with fruit, hop resins and rich fruit jelly. The finish is dry and hoppy bitter. 

Cooper’s Vintage Ale, 2006, 7.6%

Pride of Ringwood and Saaz, while the yeast strain they use for Sparkling Ale is used. They should give banana hints to the flavour. According the Glenn Cooper, the yeast they used before was in the ‘reserves’. The beer is dark gold in colour, and is blessed with a very perfumey aroma that has hop resins, orange fruit and banana in its trail. The palate is a luscious little swine with banana and bitter orange, while the bitterness count seems higher than before. It is very rich and fruity with a stinging bitter finish.

Cooper’s Vintage Ale, 2007, 7.8%

Pride of Ringwood and Saaz. This is reddish-brown in colour with a muted bubblegum, bananas, and strawberry ice cream character on the nose. The palate features hop resins, a tingly fruitiness and excellent zingy condition. The finish is bittersweet. This felt very young and would improve with age.