Burning Sky gets its timing right

Mark Tranter

Morning has broken in the East Sussex village of Firle and at the brewery Burning Sky the working day has began. The bells in the flint-faced church opposite sound the hour and the muffled clang of metal casks banging together beyond the wooden doors of the brewery entrance reach out as if in friendly response. Brewer Mark Tranter looks at the clock as if to confirm where he is at this stage of the day. It’s time to go to work.

Time, indeed. Time will be the fifth ingredient (or the fifth element if you will) in the beers produced by Tranter’s new brewery Burning Sky. Within the old barn with its brand new concrete floor, assemblage of shiny stainless steel vessels and a boiler whose tuneless humming puts me in mind of an elderly guy who’s a regular in my local, there is also a quartet of 2500-litre oak barrels. Two of them sit on their side, formerly filled with red wine, while the other two, upright, pot-bellied, are newly made; medium toast French oak I’m told. A further 16 225-litre wooden barrels gather in the corner, with another four on order. Someday soon these barrels will hold plenty of beer that will sleep the sleep of the just.

‘These barrels are a statement of my intent,’ says Tranter, who made his name as the head brewer at Dark Star, the creator of beers such as Hophead and Revelation, a former home brewer who started working with Dark Star’s founder Rob Jones in the 1990s (there’s an irony that Tranter’s current assistant Tom is also a home brewer — the wheel turns full circle).

‘I was proud of the part I played in what I achieved,’ he says of his time at Dark Star. ‘It was a real wrench to leave, but one of the reasons for getting out was that I didn’t want to look back and regret not doing things. I had an itch I wanted to scratch. I also wanted to do this brewery properly and didn’t want to sit in a van dropping a nine here and there. I wanted a decent sized brewery (this is 15 barrels) and everything has to be good.’

He left Dark Star in the spring, went over to the States and then having secured the building, undertook the alterations and got hold of the kit, the first brew was at the end of September. Three cask beers are regularly brewed: Plateau is a 3.5% pale winsome beer that is juicy and fruity (mandarin, peach, pineapple, hop sack pungency) and finishes with a dusty, dry bitterness; Aurora is 5.6% and is, as Tranter insists, ‘a strong pale ale not an IPA’ — it has a Cointreau-like orange character, a husky dryness that demands another taste and a slate-like dryness in the finish; finally, there’s the 7% IPA Devil’s Rest, which is almost red in colour and has a fragrant cherry/cedar nose (with a hint of amaretto), a nutty, stone-like centre, sensuous citrus and ferocious dry finish. This is a rugged IPA, Mount Rushmore with stubble perhaps.

And then we come to time, Tranter’s fifth element, fifth ingredient, burning passion perhaps. He’s always been interested in what breweries outside these isles do, there’s a restlessness about his creativity, which I recall from a trip we made to several small Czech breweries a couple of years ago. Then I recall the first time I tasted Dark Star’s exciting, extravagant Tripel, a gorgeous beer that possessed the fatness and ringing, chiming, jellied fruitiness of some of the tripels I’ve had in Belgium. Then there’s saison of which he is a devotee.

Burning Sky currently brews two saisons. At the moment there is Saison l’automne, a beer for this time of the year, complex, dry and spicy, and a reflection of what is available in the hedgerows of Sussex. For this beer, Tranter collected a load of rosehips and after steeping them in boiling water added the juice to the fermenting beer. ‘I love saisons and I love the countryside,’ he says, ‘this saison’s base recipe will remain the same all the year round but its seasonal ingredients will change. I had this idea that my seasonal saisons would reflect the seasons and whatever was in season at the time would be added to the beer.’ Saison l’hiver will feature hawthorns.

Then there is a Saison à la Provision, which is a different beast altogether. Though it has the same recipe as l’automne (lager malt, spelt, wheat, carahell, East Kent Goldings, Saaz, Styrian Goldings and Soriachi Ace), it’s accordingly amped up to 6.5%, has no rosehips or anything from the hedgerows but instead Brettanomyces and Lactobacillus are added towards the end of fermentation. The glass I drunk in the fabulous Snowdrop Inn in Lewes was hazy orange in colour, with a leathery, lemony, bitter, orange, dry, bracing character while the large long dry finish reminded me of one of those long endless runs that I seem to vaguely remember on Ski Sunday. I drunk it with the ferocity of a wolf coming down on the fold — I wouldn’t mind a barrel of this permanently on tap at home. It’s also a magnificent food beer, being a wonderful companion to the Snowdrop’s magnificent battered gurnard and chips.   

This would be the last time I drink it this way. On the following morning when I was at the brewery, Tranter was brewing the Provision and from now on it would be transferred to one of the 2500-litre oak barrels, and time would take over for the next two to three months. There will also be a 6% stout that will go into wood and a Flemish Red Ale, which Tranter reckons will need 18 months in wood.

There is a calm concentration about the way Tranter is going about his business. He can do the PR with meet the brewer nights and getting writers to visit his brewery but he’s not going to be using the word awesome any time soon. He’s a brewer first and foremost, inclined to the creative side of making beer but hasn’t forgotten that brewing is also a business. ‘Yes I’m nervous about it all,’ he says, ‘there’s a lot riding on what I am doing — what if it doesn’t work out, people have been kind, but if it doesn’t work out, what is there?’

I don’t think he has to worry. On the basis of the beers I’ve tasted and the skill and invention of the brewer I think Burning Sky is here to stay — after all it’s got time on its side.

a statement of intent

Some thoughts on beer innovation from 2010

From what I saw on Twitter, there was lots of interest in the PMA-organised Beer Summit yesterday on the subject of beer innovation. It’s something I’ve written about several times in the last few years — and here’s something I wrote in late 2010 for the Ontrade Preview. Make of it what you will (and it does show how fast things have moved since), but I think it broadly represents what I still think today though from what I gather speakers St Austell’s Roger Ryman came up with some interesting points as did Pete Brown. I look forward to seeing a precise of the day. 

Innovation. It’s one of the most casually over-used words in the brewing lexicon. Sometimes all innovation means is that a brewery’s marketing department has come up with a new way to sell the same old beer; fine if it’s already a good beer (Adnams ‘From the Coast’ campaign springs to mind), but if it’s not then that’s when the definition of innovation as novelty comes into play…

Then there’s technological innovation such as the eye-catching ‘Cask Beer Font’ developed by Wells & Young’s, or Marston’s ‘Fast Cask’ method of dispensation. Other aspects of this branch of innovation include the use of online social networks  — @bombardier_beer is the biggest ale brand on Twitter.

However, then there’s another style of innovation where beer and brewing come into play — innovating what’s in the glass. In the past few years, breweries have woken up to the fact that beer drinkers (especially the young and affluent) are developing a sense of adventure and looking for a beer that is more than the bitter or golden ale they normally drink. This is when a well-hopped IPA, an organic beer or a beer with added ingredients (ground coffee, honey, spices) can cause a stir and excitement at the bar. New varieties of hops, different strains of yeast and methods of fermentation and historical recreations are also grist to a brewery’s innovatory mill.

Relatively new concerns such as Thornbridge and BrewDog have been at the cutting edge since they first fell on the world. BrewDog causes equal amounts of hero-worship and consternation with their media-savvy beers and associated press campaigns that have an air of Malcolm McClaren-like mischief-making to them. Despite stunts such as the strongest beer in the world and bottles wedged into stuffed animals they make some excellent beers such as 5am Saint, Hardcore IPA and the Paradox ‘Smokehead’ series.

Thornbridge, on the other hand, is a quieter collective, still adept at publicity but less brash in their approach. New hops are experimented with, collaborations sought with other brewers and the envelope is thoroughly pushed through the letterbox of innovation and beyond. Jaipur, which celebrated its 5th birthday in 2010, was their initial calling card on the world of beer — a new wave, US-style IPA that sang its way into history with a trill of grapefruit notes. Fast-forward several years and there was Kipling, described as South Pacific Pale Ale, an orange-amber parade of tropical fruit on the nose (lychees, melon and passion fruit). Meanwhile, Ashford gets the designation New World Brown Ale and freshly picked hops zip and zest up their gorgeous Imperial IPA Halcyon.

‘We didn’t really set out to be different and that is probably more in other people’s eyes rather than our own,’ says Thornbridge’s Simon Webster. ‘Our plan was always to make “modern British beer ” and for people to talk about the great flavours and tastes of it like they do about the Belgian, German and, more recently American beers. From day one we set out to “Challenge the Drinker”.’

Other small or medium-sized breweries are also joining in the fun. Try Titanic’s Vanilla Stout or Saltaire’s Triple Chocoholic for luxuriant lushness or wake up to Dark Star’s Espresso Stout. This drive can be found at all points of the compass. Cornwall’s Sharps might be well known for their best performer Doom Bar, but that hasn’t stopped the restless and creative nature of head brewer Stuart Howe.

Several years ago, he developed Chalky’s Bite in league with super chef Rick Stein; last year this was joined by Chalky’s Bark, a 4.5% version of Bite, but lightly flavoured with ginger. ‘It’s a beer to be enjoyed for itself,’ says Howe, ‘but also something we have developed for its potential to match with food.’ Another superb beer developed by Howe is the 9.5% Belgian-style DW, a charity beer tribute to Dave Wickett, founder of Sheffield’s Kelham Island Brewery, who is currently battling cancer. The result is Sauternes-like beer, with the sweetness mellowed by hop bitterness; tangerine hints and pineapple blasts on the nose lead to a fruit salad of desire that would hold its own in any tabletop wrestle with Stilton.

This sense of adventure has also spread from beyond the newer brewing community into the realms of the traditional family-owned companies. Robinson’s have long been noted for their elegant barley wine Old Tom, a strong beer full of roast coffee and chocolate notes. Chocolate Tom goes a bit further with the addition of chocolate and Madagascan bourbon vanilla in the mix making for a decidedly luxuriant beer. Then there’s Ginger Tom, where the strong ale is blended with Fentiman's Ginger Beer to producing an intriguing mix of chocolaty smoothness and spicy ginger edginess. Fellow Lancastrians Thwaites joined in the fun earlier in the year with Midas, a fruity golden ale with oats in the mix.

Yet if there’s one traditional family brewery (alongside Fuller’s) that has taken the innovatory trail with a great sense of gusto it’s Adnams (they actually produced a beer called Innovation). The last couple of years has seen head brewer Fergus Fitzgerald develop beers that are light years away from the Suffolk brewer’s traditional portfolio. A series of world beers in cask include an American-style IPA, a Dutch bokbier and an Irish Dry Stout. Then there was Solebay, a 10% beast of a beer packaged in a distinctive silver tin and brewed with sugar and lavender.

The beer is stupendous, a complex, heady brew of wine-like immensity and Fitzgerald says it has been well received and should be brewed again. Meanwhile, in the on-trade, lovers of his beers can go global with his world beers.

However, he does sound a note of caution when it comes to innovation: ‘I think it's great to have a beer that people love and keep coming back to, and I think it is important not to lose track of that and why you are successful but I think it's also important to try something new. There are risks but if they work they can attract new drinkers, people who don't drink your beer because they tried one once and it wasn't for them or because they don't think beer in general is for them, they don't like the packaging the image etc. But if you present them with something that looks and tastes completely different then maybe…’



November  2010