Fundamentals #37 — Northern Monk x Lervig Dark City Devil’s Delight Imperial Stout

As summer fades and the nights draw in I, like many of you I’m sure, begin to crave darker beers again. There’s something about the bite of a northerly breeze on your cheekbones and the crunch of dead leaves underfoot that makes me long for a bar to sit at, a log fire, and a pint laced with the myriad flavours that roasted barley can provide. Bitter chocolate, roasted coffee, sweet molasses… there are certain boxes that can only be ticked by a dark, rich stout.

Last year’s Dark City beer festival in Leeds - the brainchild of Northern Monk Brewery and Richard and Bryony Brownhill of Little Leeds Beer House - was a perfect celebration of these beers. So it’s fitting as we cascade towards the winter months that the event has returned and takes place at Northern Monk’s original brewery and taproom this weekend.

My experience of last year’s event was a highly enjoyable one. The Refectory, as Northern Monk’s taproom is known, is a wonderful space to hold an event such as this, taking place over two floors within the three-storey former linen mill, around a mile from Leeds city centre.

Being presented with the darker and typically stronger beers presents you with an interesting perspective when compared to other festivals of this ilk. Instead of rushing from bar to bar, eager to try as many small pours from as many breweries as possible, I found myself taking more time with each sip, appreciating the nuance of each beer as I ambled around the venue.

To mark this years event, Northern Monk has teamed up with Norway’s Lervig Aktiebryggeri to bring you Dark City Devil’s Delight Imperial Stout. And if that sounds like a mouthful then it’s with good reason. The unctuous beer weighs in at 9% ABV and features additions of crème du cacao, vanilla, oats, dextrose and lactose, all shoring up the already hefty blow dealt by the malted barley, hops and yeast.

Initial fears that this beer would be too sweet for my own palate (which typically prefers beers on the dry and bitter side of things) were soon put aside. Yes, there’s plenty of thick, sweet flavours that aren’t unlike chugging condensed milk straight from the tin, but these are balanced by a snap of dark chocolate and a faintly bitter hop twang, bringing balance to the intensity. My only complaint is perhaps the serving size. This is a big beer to be crammed inside a relatively large 440ml can, so I advise finding a pal to split it with. I can guarantee with certainty that they’ll appreciate the gesture.

Find our beer writer Matthew Curtis on Twitter @totalcurtis.

Fundamentals #36 — Magic Rock Saucery Session IPA

I am yet to be convinced that both gluten and alcohol-free beers are as good as the real thing. One of the main reasons behind this is that I think that there are plenty of other delicious alternatives to beer within these categories. Be it low-intervention cider, or natural wine, kombucha or craft soda, there’s plenty of choice out there. But I understand why gluten and alcohol-free beers need to exist – because people love beer.

And they are getting better, for the most part. It is perhaps unfair to me to split hairs within these styles, especially as my privilege allows me to enjoy both alcohol and gluten. I tend to struggle when someone tells me that a low alcohol or GF beer is “as good as the real thing” when quite clearly it isn’t. I prefer to see such products sold on their own merits, instead of being compared to something that they are not.

Which is why this beer – Saucery from Magic Rock – took me by complete surprise. I have, in fact, been enjoying this beer whenever I see it on tap for several months. It’s an excellent, light, yet hop forward session IPA. Bursting with notes of citrus, a gentle bitterness at the back of the palate and a dry finish that leaves you rasping for your next sip, or pint. It’s a great beer.

I had no idea that it was gluten free until I received this can to review.

Magic Rock has previous when it comes to making excellent gluten free beers. Its special edition gluten free IPA, Fantasma, proved so popular that it has since become part of its core range. This is excellent news, because despite my own misgivings about GF beers, the more choice out there the better, especially when it’s of this quality. I concede, however, that not everyone wants to drink 6.5% IPA all the time (although personally, I’d be happy to.) At a far lower 3.9% ABV, Saucery makes it accessible to a far larger demographic, and that can only be a good thing.

As I continue to sip at this particular can, I become more impressed with every satisfying gulp. If you’re looking for a tasty gluten free beer then this certainly is one. But if you are just looking for a tasty beer, this also is most definitely one. Saucery, indeed.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a Magic Rock Saucery Session IPA in-store or online.

Fundamentals #35: Hammerton Crunch Peanut Butter Milk Stout

Welcome back, to what is now the award-winning Fundamentals column. The judges at this year’s North American Guild of Beer Writers Awards saw fit to grant us a bronze medal in the Best Beer Review category. Specifically, for my piece on North Transmission, in which I attempted to compare New England IPA to post punk. All in all, it seems that was a successful analogy. Many thanks to the NAGBW for bestowing us with such an honour. Or should that be honor?

Today we’re tackling another emergent beer style that, like NEIPA, generates a serious amount of hyperbole – the Pastry Stout. It’s hard to identify exactly where or when exactly this trend emerged. Surely a stern finger should be wagged in the direction of the UK’s Buxton and Sweden’s Omnipollo, who released the collaborative Yellow Belly in 2014. In the wake of the popularity of this peanut butter and biscuit imperial stout, there have been countless breweries chucking ingredients such as cinnamon, vanilla, chocolate and more into the fermenter. Omnipollo is, in fact, a serial offender within the pastry stout category.

Perhaps though, the net of blame for the emergence of this style could be cast way back to the early 90s, when a young Goose Island released its Bourbon County stout. Now, of course, this liquid is now peddled by the evil, corporate world of Big Beer™ and as such should only be handled in full HazMat gear, while disposing of it carefully. Or, if you don’t have any protective clothing, you can dispose of it by sending to my address, below.

All jokes aside, stout, like many dark beers, struggles to find popularity when it’s out of season, and sells in far smaller quantities than its pale, hoppy brethren. The great thing about these modern pastry stouts is they’ve helped darker beers get a new wave of beer drinkers excited about these styles. Getting more folk into dark beers can only be a good thing.

When it comes to North London’s Hammerton Brewery, I’m a huge fan of the dry, slightly saline Pentonville Oyster Stout. Crunch is essentially the antithesis of this. By using lactose sugars and peanut, this beer tastes a little like a Reese’s cup, only one that’s been blended into a surprisingly drinkable dark beer. And what’s most surprising is that I don’t hate it. In fact, I quite like it, as despite its sweetness it retains that most important of qualities: drinkability.

Essentially, Crunch is pudding in a can. And one that’s worth skipping dessert for.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a Loka Polly Hallertau Blanc IPA in-store or online.

Fundamentals #34 — Loka Polly Hallertau Blanc IPA

I’ve been writing for Hop Burns & Black for more than three years now, but I think this is the first time I’ve written for Jen, Glenn and the team from inside Hop Burns & Black. I know, how meta. What’s perhaps most interesting about sitting in the shop on a Friday afternoon and watching people coming in, taking with them big bags stuffed with cans for the weekend, is how much things have changed in the beer world in such a short space of time.

The cans themselves, for starters, have become an enormous deal. Three years ago the shelves would have been almost exclusively lined with bottles. Now, thanks to canning becoming more accessible, around two-thirds of the beer on the shelves is now packaged in aluminium. It’s not just the packaging that’s changed either. The beer has too. Not just in terms of style – although the New England IPA has become something of a ubiquitous feature of the modern independent bottle shop – but the brands prominent on those shelves has also transformed over time.

This is great for us drinkers too. As many brewers choose to either eschew independence in the quest for expansion, or choose to stock national supermarket chains, losing their listings with folks like HB&B in the process, so do new brewers emerge. This in turn creates a new opportunity for these young breweries to carve out a small portion of the beer market for themselves. It’s craft beer’s very own circle of life.

And it’s because of this I’ve found myself in possession of an IPA from Loka Polly – my first. I’m aware the North Wales-based brewery has been making waves among beer’s most ardent fans for a few months now, but with more than 2,000 breweries in the UK it can be challenging to keep up.

The beer in question is a fresh can of Hallertau Blanc IPA. Weighing in at 6.6% ABV, the beer pours as slick and hazy as you’d expect from a modern NEIPA. What’s interesting about this beer for me is how the typical NEIPA cocktail of Citra, Mosaic and friends has been eschewed for the German Hallertau Blanc variety – a modern breed of a the classic Hallertau Mittlefrüh noble variety, which is typically used in lager brewing.

Although the Hallertau Blanc hop maintains a herbaceous snap, it’s supplemented by a distinctively juicy note reminiscent of white peach – perfect for a modern, girthy IPA such as this one. And believe me when I say this beer is girthy. If you’re a fan of beer that’s as chewy as it is delicious, then this one’s for you. Thankfully, that heft is balanced by a dry finish, and that subtle, fresh, green note implemented thanks to the parentage of this beer’s particular hop variety. From this, I can certainly see why Loka Polly has generated so much fuss among beer’s in-crowd this year.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a Loka Polly Hallertau Blanc IPA in-store or online.

Fundamentals #33 — Wylam Child in Time Cryo Hop IPA

One of the most remarkable feats I’ve witnessed in U.K. craft beer over the past couple years is the transformation of Newcastle’s Wylam Brewery from regional stalwart into one of the nation’s most respected modern breweries.

What’s perhaps most impressive about this is that Wylam has maintained its presence and reputation regionally throughout this transition. Take its Jakehead IPA as an example of this - a beer that’s perfect on cask or keg, and will appease traditionalists and fans of modern beer alike. And by making the former Palace of Arts in Newcastle’s Exhibition Park the home of its brewery and taproom, it has cemented itself as both one of the north-eastern city’s cultural, as well as culinary, institutions.

The Wylam beer I am reviewing today does not play on any of those traditional sensibilities, however. Child In Time is a modern IPA that is - like so many others - in the tradition of the New England style. As in: it’s hazy and juicy as all hell. What’s interesting about this beer in particular though, is its utilisation of cryo hops. The term “cryo” immediately makes me think of its references within science fiction, such as with characters like Futurama’s Philip J Fry or Sylvester Stallone pulling one of his best ever performances in the seminal classic, Demolition Man, as they find themselves unfrozen in an uncertain future. At a stretch it also makes me recall Sly’s good friend Arnold Schwarzenegger in his unfortunate turn as Mr. Freeze in 1997s Batman and Robin… but let’s not get crazy here.

Unlike these examples, however, there is nothing fictional about cryo hops. These are very real indeed, making use of the latest in hop processing technology to produce an intensely aromatic hop powder which, in turn, allows brewers to produce intensely flavoured and aromatic beers. Perfect for contemporary styles such as NEIPA.

Child In Time makes use of Centennial, Amarillo and Citra cryo hops - varieties that, for me at least, predominantly invoke notes of lemon zest, navel orange and pink grapefruit respectively. This is very much the case in this beer. It’s an intense melange of pithy, yet juicy citrus flavours, with just enough dryness and bitterness to keep your palate ticking over, so that it begins to demand your next sip shortly after your last. When I drink this style of beer I don’t want it to be claggy or cloying, which this beer is not. Instead it’s intense, yet clean, and very delicious.

I’m very glad Wylam decided to pursue these modern styles, and that they do it with such finesse.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up one of the very last cans of Wylam’s hugely popular Child In Time in store or online.

Fundamentals #32 — Schöfferhofer Grapefruit Wheat Beer Mix

You’ve probably been reminded by your parents a few times this summer that it’s been the hottest since ‘76. And yes Mum, it has been quite a summer. Not only because of the seemingly unyielding heatwave, but due to an astonishing England World Cup run along with what I like to call “the redemption of Gareth Southgate”, it’s been a very pleasant season indeed. Perfect beer drinking weather, in fact.

So, as fate would dictate, the moment a can of shandy lands on my desk to review, it starts tipping it down with rain. Typical. Well, technically the beer isn’t quite a shandy, but
a radler.

Coming from the German word for cyclist, the radler is typically a German-style wheat beer blended with fruit juice as opposed to lemonade. In the case of this effort from Frankfurt’s Schöfferhofer, this beverage is a 50/50 blend of its classic Hefeweizen with grapefruit juice. And it’s delicious.

It feels a little silly reviewing this beer, considering some of the other absolute corkers we’ve had on over the past few months. But it’s no less deserving of the same praise, purely because it so effortlessly fills a low-ABV gap when so many similar efforts often leave me feeling a little hollow. It’s the perfect beer for when you don’t need a beer, but you absolutely want a beer. Whether you’re basking in the hot sun or fancy swapping out your mimosa for something beer related over brunch, the radler is there for you.

In Germany the radler is celebrated for its isotonic properties (hence the name being derived from the word for cyclist), so it found its place in my life after a particularly strenuous run (OK, I won’t lie, they’re all strenuous). The one advantage of the rain bringing some cooler temperatures was the chance to enjoy some light exercise without fear of sweating out my own pelvis. And what better restorative than to crush a beverage such as this to celebrate crushing a few kms — straight from the can of course.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a can of The Schoff in store or online any time of the year.

Fundamentals #31 — Half Acre Beer Co Tuna Extra Pale Ale

Turns out there are two kinds of Tuna available in a can. The first is an always-handy sandwich meat — perfect whipped up with an over-zealously lobbed ball of mayo, a crack of black pepper and a squeeze of lemon, before being liberally applied to thickly hewn white bread. All hail the tuna mayo sando. (OK, I admit I should probably leave the food writing to my colleague Claire Bullen.)

The other is, as you’ve probably suspected, a beer. Tuna Extra Pale Ale happens to be from one of my favourite Chicago-based breweries — Half Acre. If you haven’t heard of these folks, where’ve you been hiding? This Midwestern US brewery has been cooking up sublime beers since its inception in 2008. It’s perhaps best known for its Daisy Cutter Pale Ale — a beer that’s become a true staple amongst fine beverage appreciators in the Windy City. Half Acre’s mastery is one of creating clean, hop-forward beers just like you used to love, and Tuna is no exception to this rule.

I’ve been lucky enough to travel all over the US, and Chicago has to be one of my favourite cities. It takes the culinary arts very seriously — this could be at a top restaurant, a local burger joint, or a brewery — whatever it makes, if you can eat or drink it, it’s gotta be world class. What I admire most about Chicago however, is how it’s able to apply to much effort to the creation of these consumables, but then present them in a laid-back, friendly way.

What I enjoyed most about the brewing scene here is how diverse it felt. There’s not as much bandwagon-hopping and imitation as I’ve seen in other beer destinations. Chicagoans do things their own way, and that often means a brewery will put a lot of effort into producing a unique take on things. This could be the hop gems of Half Acre, the crispy lagers at Dovetail, the tongue twisting mixed fermentation projects at Whiner, or the, well, whatever they want to call it at Off Color. If you love beer, you should visit Chicago as soon as you can.

Back to Tuna, though — this beer pours a bright shade of tangerine from its lovingly designed can, a head of off-white foam enticing you with aromas of barley sugar and navel orange. To taste, there is plenty more of both of these things: a touch of smooth malt sweetness to begin, and then plenty of zesty, citrus notes to clean all that up before leading to a not-too bitter finish. It’s perhaps a little one note, but at 4.7%, that’s kinda the point. Tuna is a beer to fill the fridge with and throw back when you need a hoppy hit that won’t touch the sides.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a can of Half Acre Tuna while you can in store or online.

Fundamentals #30 — Two Roads Tanker Truck Sauvignon Blanc Gose

The worlds of wine and beer can often feel very different to one another. Beer often tries to grasp at the concept of terroir, French for “of the earth,” referring to the effect that location and climate has on a wine's eventual character. This is a much more difficult concept to express within beer, especially if your hops are imported from the US, your barley from Germany and your yeast cultured in a lab in Copenhagen.

Terroir does exist in beer, but you’re far more likely to find it in, say, the spontaneously fermented lambics of Belgium – which are fermented by harvesting wild yeast from the air surrounding the beer – than the latest IPA.

Taking this concept further, if a brewer decides to add grapes (or must, the pressed juice that is the winemaker's equivalent to a brewer's wort) to beer, by reason this adds another dimension that further reduces its sense of place. Does that matter if it makes a beer taste great? Of course not. Terroir is a fun, and often romantic thing to think about in terms of alcoholic beverages, but it is not fundamental to our enjoyment of great beer.

Both wine grapes and wine barrels effect beer in very positive ways. Barrels not only imbue beer with woody, tannic flavours – along with a wine-like character – but also provide the perfect environment for culturing up interesting yeast and bacteria for further flavour development. Grape juice, on the other hand, is going to provide you with a far cleaner, more precise flavour. It’s also going to give you some extra sugar, which yeast will turn to alcohol during fermentation, so beers with added must can, on occasion, be quite strong.

That isn’t the case with this Sauvignon Blanc Gose from Two Roads, however, which uses the Sauvignon Blanc grape to great effect. Fans of Nelson Sauvin will enjoy this light, thirst-quenching sour (the New Zealand hop takes its name from the flavour of this particularly fruity grape). Gooseberry is often its most obvious character and that’s ever present in this sour, which crams lots of effervescent, sparkling wine-like character into a beer that sits at just 4.8%.

This Gose is an uncomplicated beer, and perhaps a little one-dimensional. This, however, makes it an ideal lawnmower beer. Perfect for smashing down after a day spent in the hot sun, when a bottle of wine might be a little stronger and less thirst quenching than what you require. It also pairs excellently with barbecued chicken or fish, which means its a beer that can be easily enjoyed in the majority of summer scenarios.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a can of Two Roads Sauvignon Blanc Gose in store or online.

Fundamentals #29 — Beak Brewery Citra | Verbena | Nelson Sauvin IPA

A heap of breweries are boarding the haze train at the moment – next stop Juiceville USA.

Fascination with modern, aromatic US hop varieties, such as Citra or Mosaic is turning into obsession for some brewers. In fact, in terms of acreage, Citra recently overtook the original pioneer of American hops, Cascade. And there’s a whole host of new and interesting varieties coming such as Cashmere and Pekko now being made available to brewers, giving them the opportunity to push the flavour and aroma of their beer even further.

The problem with so many breweries investing heavily in the zeitgeist that is New England IPA, is that it can, on occasion, be difficult to tell one outfit's offer from another. Even worse, some great beer from lesser known producers can be overlooked. This is a travesty.

So the next time you’re desperate to fill you bag cans from Cloudwater, Verdant, Deya et al, save a little room in there for something new. A recent favourite of mine has been from Beak Brewery, a one man “cuckoo” brewing operation masterminded by brewer Daniel Tapper. Not being in possession of a brewery of his own, Tapper travels to other breweries – such as Missing Link Brewery in Sussex – in order to produce his beers.

One that recently found its way into my refrigerator was a New England IPA featuring Citra, Nelson Sauvin and, somewhat curiously, Verbena. I was interested to see how the herb would affect the flavour of this beer – and that was before I’d even taken the time to appreciate the delightful artwork on the label.

This IPA pours with that typically golden, opaque hue that has become such a welcome and familiar sight these days. The aroma is sweet, with hints of barley sugar clouding a little candied orange peel. As with the best New England IPAs, the beer’s body is far lighter than its appearance would suggest.

There are some fun flavours here – a little smoosh of orange, a prickle of gooseberry and an almost woody, herbal note from the Verbena near the dry finish. It’s just a hint of woodiness though, acting in a complementary way to the dry herbal prickle I typically find Nelson Sauvin adds to a beer, along with more obviously tropical notes like passion fruit and lychee.

If you’re looking to broaden your NEIPA perspective with something just a little bit different, this banger from Beak is a great way to do so.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a can of Beak's Citra Verbena Nelson Sauvin IPA in store or online.

Fundamentals #28 — Anspach & Hobday & Hawkes The Sour Graff

I’m enjoying watching the gentle loll of the modern cider revolution as it gracefully strides into view of beer lovers. Cider is unquestionably having a bit of a moment of late, and it feels like we’re at the foot of a much bigger mound when it comes to what many consider to be beers sister-beverage. For me, cider is far closer to wine, especially orchard-based, low intervention cider - pulling fruit from local orchards, and allowing it to ferment naturally as it matures into a finished product. In fact I personally feel that much of modern cider forms the perfect bridge between beer and wine.

We’ve got some work to do before cider can get to a point where it’s fussed over like so much modern beer though. One producer attempting this is Hawkes, based on Bermondsey’s Druid Street, amidst the largest feast of brewers within the capital. The fact that the cider maker is now owned by BrewDog might give you some inkling on how close to the beer drinkers table cider is at the moment - and of the cider maker's sizable ambition.

The Sour Graff is a hybrid beverage produced with Hawkes’ Druid Street neighbours Anspach & Hobday. The base beer is a Berliner Weisse, which then sees the addition of Dabinett apple juice prior to fermentation. What I particularly enjoy about this is the seeing the apple varietal get a namecheck, front and centre. In a world where hops are such a strong hook for beer enthusiasts, dangling a carrot… err, apple, like this lends the beer drinker the next rung to swing from.

I was also pleased to find such an approachable beer beneath the cap. Fans of sours will be immediately drawn to its sharp, tart quality. The apple flavour is sweet and fizzy, like a mouthful of sour-apple pop rocks, but the dry finish smoothes this out. If you can overcome the initial sharpness of how sour this beer/cider hybrid is, then you’ll find a beverage that is simple and eminently drinkable - perfect for long summer days.

Behind all of the fun this drink provides, however, is just the faintest hint of farmyard funk. Not enough to challenge, but - for those that find it - enough to perhaps pique an interest in the wider world of cider. In this respect, The Sour Graff is a great introduction to cider for those who have not yet decided if they like it or not.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. If you're quick, you'll be able to find a last bottle of The Sour Graff in store or online.

Fundamentals #27 — Fuerst Wiacek A Quick One IPA

Citra and Mosaic are my homeboys, I like hanging out with them often. I also enjoy it when they’re accompanied by pals like El Dorado, Amarillo, Nelson Sauvin and even Simcoe (although the latter sometimes feels like he may be trying a little too hard to roll with the cool kids these days). They are fundamental to the modern, hoppy, hazy pales I have spent much of my recent time obsessing over.

There’s an argument that a lot these modern beers, with their juice dialled up and the bitterness muted, are very similar in character. On the surface that much is true. But the more I delve into them, the more subtle variances I detect between them. That might be something as simple as a beer's mouthfeel, or how that beer’s specific yeast has added its own character - for better or worse.

Drinking a modern beer hopped with Citra and Mosaic can be as exciting for me as it can be refreshing, because I can still be surprised by how the flavours in that beer present themselves - be they through citrus or tropical fruits, through peach and apricot driven esters or through heady, dank, onion, pine and wild garlic. Yes I like that too.

Fuerst Wiacek - a brewery based out of Berlin, Germany, but currently with no production facility of its own - is a new one to me. The brewery describes its beers as modern and balanced and my first impression of its New England style IPA A Quick One would indicate that this statement holds true.

That depends of course on your definition of balance. If a beer with a fruit basket of tropical notes from papaya to mango to lychee that’s wrapped up in a soft, yet featherlight body with a delicate, dry yet ever-so-slightly bitter finish is your idea of balance, then this beer will almost certainly be right up your avenue.

This is an excellent modern IPA, and an exemplary use of my good friends Citra and Mosaic. I look forward to spending some more time with them should they show up in a Fuerst Wiacek beer once more.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up A Quick One in store or online.

Fundamentals #26 — North Brewing Co. Transmission IPA

One of my favourite historic pieces of music television is the clip of Joy Division performing Transmission on BBC2’s Something Else back in 1979. The performance is bookended by an interview with the band’s then manager, Tony Wilson, alongside drummer Stephen Morris. In the clip, Wilson laments how the Manchester-based band’s track doesn’t have a universal appeal, due to it being “unsettling… slightly sinister and gothic”, despite its “hypnotic melody”.

For many beer drinkers, modern beer – in particular the opaquely hazy and enticingly juicy IPAs that have shot to fame over the previous 24 months – may hold similarly unsettling qualities. Who knows what terrors may lie within a beer that will not drop bright?

By rights, with enticing, accessible juicy fruit flavours and little to no bitterness, the modern hazy IPA has all the qualities that should hold universal appeal to all beer drinkers. But the nonconformity of the style gives it that unsettling character, because it doesn’t look like what we’re told beer is supposed to look like. New England IPA is the Joy Division of modern beer, and a keen sign that we’re in the post-punk – or dare I say the post-craft – beer era.

Transmission is also the name of a hazy IPA from Leeds based North Brewing Co. The brewery’s founders Christian Townsley and John Gyngell made their name in the Yorkshire city as the founders of North Bar, which is sometimes referred to as the first craft beer bar in the UK.

North Bar has been a trendmaker and bastion within the Leeds scene since its founding in July 1997. Then, in 2015, Townsley and Gyngell decided to take the next step and launch their brewery under the same moniker. In recent months the brewery has really hit its stride and is producing some stellar beer.

Transmission is an IPA that follows the modern trend of being hazy and juicy. Flavours of mango interweave between sheets of candy sugar, which are all tied together with a subtle dry and bitter snap in the finish, something that should satisfy even the most hardened of purists. Although its appearance and flavour may be unsettling and slightly sinister to those accustomed to the traditional, its accessibility will no doubt welcome an equally high volume of people to the genre.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. We love Transmission so much that it's now a core beer at HB&B. Pick up a can in store or online.

Fundamentals #25 — Cloudwater DIPA V3 2018 & V3.1

Time can be good for IPAs. I’m not talking about cellaring your freshest beers and letting them fade away like a forgotten 90’s pop star - this is not how you make good barleywine. I’m talking about what a brewery can learn once it has had time to experiment and glean a little maturity. With experience and a combination of technological and creative know-how comes great beer. With the re-release of its V3 Double IPA and coincidental launch of an up-to-date V3.1, Manchester’s Cloudwater has done just that.

I remember when I went to the London launch of Cloudwater beers back in 2015, but I don’t remember the pales and IPAs I drank that day. Instead I remember a tasty bergamot hopfenweisse along with some soft and luxurious low-strength beers served from cask. But as pleasant as these beers were at the time, they were not to be a marker of this breweries bright future. Its foray into intensely hopped beers, inspired by the brightest starlets of the American scene such as The Veil, Treehouse and Trillium, would eventually fulfil that role.

Cloudwater’s evolving DIPA series would catapult the brewery into the light fantastic, seeing it claim accolades on both sides of the pond. And yet, none of the 13 beers in this range would showcase potent hop characteristics in the same way as the trend-breaking beers that would follow. Sure, it proved to be a worthy experiment. It helped the brewery figure out what its equipment was capable of, and what its fans wanted more of. But these beers are now a world away from the weekly-released DDH treats we’ve come to expect. So when I see folks pine for these one-off experiments, I find myself asking why that is.

This fresh release of V3 is an interesting experience, but for me this beer doesn’t represent where this brewery is at in 2018. It has that characteristic softness that is so strongly representative of what a Cloudwater beer is to me, along with flavours of ripe melon and a little honey. However the back end of V3 is one of cloying sweetness and some hot alcohol—not the bright burst of hop intensity I’ve come to expect.

V3.1 contains three times the dry hop addition as the revivified edition of V3. You could call it triple dry hopped with its 24 grams per litre to the meagre 8 grams in the older recipe. But this is the kind of beer we have now become accustomed to from Cloudwater. It’s not TDH, its perfectly normal. The newer recipe is far hazier than the previous one, but the aroma and flavour is also dramatically more intense. While its appearance is cloudy, soft, tropical notes of papaya and lychee provide the brightness, with the intensity turned up to its maximum.

This is the kind of beer I want from Cloudwater, a beer that demonstrates maturity and nuance in the same beat as it does vibrancy and intensity. I hope those nostalgic for the older version got what they wanted out of this release, but as far as I’m concerned I hope Cloudwater keep learning, keep evolving, and keep developing these righteously juicy beers.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up both V3 cans while you still, erm, can, in store or online.

Fundamentals #24 — Pressure Drop x Lost & Grounded How We Roll Belgian Chocolate Stout

Every few months I try to slow down a little and take stock of where the beer industry is right now, and how far it’s come in the past few years. Its booming evolution still shows no sign of slowing down. And just thinking about this point alone can be exhausting - especially when, like me, you’re embroiled in the whirlwind that is Beer Twitter™. However, when you put your phone down, and open a bottle of beer from one of the UK’s finest small breweries, suddenly that whirlwind stops spinning and the beer world seems to slow down - for a while at least.

Over the past year or two, I’ve noticed how far the overall quality of British beer has improved, especially from breweries which emerged within the last few years. Modern breweries are learning to invest in process, equipment, sensory training and quality control to ensure the beer in your glass is tasting better than ever before. At more than 2,000, the UK now has more breweries than anywhere else in the world bar our friends in the United States, who boast more than 6,000.

Numbers alone don’t make up a great beer culture though. In order for the UK to continue to stand up and be counted as one of the world’s most important brewing nations, quality needs to keep improving, which from what I can see is happening all around us.

Two breweries leading the charge in this respect are Bristol’s Lost and Grounded and North London’s Pressure Drop. The former launched in summer 2016, boasting an impressive German-made brewhouse that allowed the brewery exacting control over the beers it produces, be it a modern IPA or German-inspired Pilsner. The latter started its journey in Hackney in 2012, eventually expanding to its current Tottenham home in 2017. Each makes excellent beers in their own right, so you know that any collaboration between them will likely tickle your fancy.

How We Roll - a Belgian Chocolate Stout - certainly tickled mine. The beer’s relative Belgian-ness is very understated, only really evident via its voracious carbonation and exceedingly dry finish, both of which seemingly serve to enhance both the beer's chocolate flavour and its overall drinkability. This beer also skillfully avoids being too astringent, dialling the roasted quality of the stout back to let the milk chocolate flavour really shine.

How We Roll is one of those beers that comes along once in a while that I expect to be good, but is so good that it almost takes me by surprise. It shouldn’t though - instead, like many beers, it should stand up as an example of how high the quality of many brewers’ output in the UK has become. Here’s to enjoying many more beers like this one.

Fundamentals #23 — Black Iris Let The Juice Loose NEIPA

People say you can have too much of a good thing. That less is, in fact, more. Undoubtedly, there are many walks of life where this is true. Say for example if you spend less time working on that Excel spreadsheet or playing badminton, then you can spend more time down the pub, enjoying great beer. Or perhaps in the construction of a great pilsner, where the subtlety of pale malt playfully mingles with the nuance of noble hops, leading to a finished product that is perhaps greater than the sum of its parts.

Life would be boring if all we did was drink pilsner though, and badminton is a really fun way to get some exercise. When it comes to IPA, or at least IPA as we known it in the context of modern beer, you can’t have too much of a good thing. For IPA, more is more. That’s why it’s been the driving force of modern beer ever since folks like San Francisco’s Liberty Brewing decided to brew a rambunctiously bitter beer called Liberty Ale way back in 1975.

IPA is the carte blanche that brewers have used to define themselves, and in turn the industry they operate in, since the year dot. It can be bitter, it can be juicy, it can be sweet, it can be savoury, it can be dank as all hell. It can even be dark, (unless you are a Cascadian Dark Ale purist, hello to you). We can safely say that IPA as we know it now is fundamental to how we experience and enjoy beer in the modern age.

Let the Juice Loose is a New England style IPA from Nottingham’s Black Iris Brewery. Looking at how many of us enjoy our IPA in the modern beer age, this is a fantastic expression. Pouring distinctly hazy to the point of being (quite satisfyingly) turbid, your senses will almost immediately be piqued with aromas of mango, papaya and kumquat. Let the Juice Loose continues to purvey its tropical dance party of flavour when it hits your palate, with those fruit notes leading to a finish which is part dry, and part lingering stone fruit, as a hint of yeast esters give you the nod it’s time for another sip.

The hazy, juicy, New England IPA won’t be everyone’s cup of tea, but it is a fantastic gateway to those new to the style that may have previously been put off by lots of bitterness. Personally, I find that when this style is done well, it’s the kind of beer I want to drink all of the time. Except for those times I want a pilsner. Because sometimes less is more and sometimes more is more. Just like brewing, in fact.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up one of the last cans of Let The Juice Loose while you still can, in store or online.

Fundamentals #22 – Brick Brewery Kerala Stout

I love a good curry. The way the blend of spices mingle with the char of meat cooked in a Tandoori oven makes it one of my all time favourite dishes. These same ingredients in a beer? Not so much. At least that’s what I thought until I tried Kerala Stout, from Peckham’s Brick Brewery.

Brick has always been one of those London breweries that has so often flown under my radar. This might be something to do with me being a staunch North Londoner, seldom coming out of my quiet slice of urban suburbia, especially to venture south of the river (except to see my good pals at Hop Burns & Black of course). More’s the pity though, as South London has so much to offer. Not least pubs like Stormbird, The Old Nun’s Head and not forgetting Brick Brewery’s own taproom under the arches at Peckham Rye station. As a beer enthusiast you deserve giving yourself a chance to break habit once in a while, so do yourself a favour and head south once in a while.

Back to Kerala Stout then, which infuses a typically dry, dark and roasted stout with a mélange of spices and flavourings. These include cumin, cardamom, curry leaves, chillies and cinnamon. That level of spicing may sound a little overwhelming – but just like in a great curry the brewers at Brick have found a way to get these spices working together in harmony.

These flavours were a little muted when I first sipped at the beer, having just pulled the can from the fridge. Once the beer had been given a few minutes in the glass to warm, however, it really opened up. Notes of cumin and cardamom come to the fore, mingling with the cinnamon and sweetness from the darker malts to find balance, even adding a touch of what tastes like toasted coconut to the palate. At the finish is a gloriously satisfying touch of chilli burn – just the right amount so as not to overwhelm the beer.

This beer is great on its own but perhaps unsurprisingly, it really comes alive when paired with a similarly spiced dish. This is definitely a beer worth heading to South London for – don’t forget to pick up a curry while you’re there.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up some Brick Kerala Stout while you still can in store or online.

Fundamentals #21 – Siren Craft Brew Old Fashioned Barleywine

Bourbon truly is a wonderful thing. The legal guidelines a spirit must follow in order to be classed as bourbon are also incredibly strict – as should be the case in the creation of such a venerable beverage. It must be produced within the United States from a grain bill that consists of at least 51% corn. It must be aged in first use, charred oak barrels and it must be distilled to no higher than 80% alcohol, entering the barrel itself at no more than 62.5% alcohol.

As with all whisky – whiskey to our Irish and American friends – the finished product must be at least 40% alcohol by volume. However unlike other whiskies, which must be aged for at least three years and a day to earn that title, bourbon does not need to be aged for any specific length of time to earn its name. Some bourbons on the market can spend as little as three months in barrel, although anything which calls itself “straight” bourbon will have been aged for at least two years.

Like whiskey, bourbon also has a lot in common with beer. Before being distilled, the base liquid is brewed, and malted grains such as wheat, rye and barley augment the remainder of the recipe. This shared ancestry may be why, in part, why many beers fare incredibly well if they are aged in ex-bourbon casks. Enter Old Fashioned, a barleywine from the wizards at Berkshire’s Siren Craft Brewery, which aims to emulate the classic, bourbon-based cocktail.

Sweet notes of vanilla and toasted coconut are immediately apparent on the nose, as the viscous liquid snakes its way into your glass – a wide brimmed brandy-style snifter or a Teku being ideal for this particular style of beer. To taste the beer is very sweet, with flavours of barley sugar and more vanilla present from the outset. This ever-present sweetness is balanced by deep, warming notes of alcohol, with the essence of the bourbon notes imbued into this beer by the barrels it inhabited for 12 months, softening and rounding out the finished product.

If I had to ask one thing of this homage to the Old Fashioned, it would be a whisper more of the promised orange peel. Some extra citrus would really lift this beer to the next level. Despite this, it’s still a stellar effort from the Berkshire brewery. This is a beer to enjoy now, before the days begin to get longer and warmer at the end of the month. Or simply hang on to it until it starts to get colder again, and see what a bit of age might do to this beer.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Treat yourself to a bottle of Siren Old Fashioned in store or online while stocks last.

Fundamentals #20 – Small Beer

I like alcohol. Or, more pertinently I like the way it makes all the complexities in beer imbued by malt, hops, yeast, water and whatever else interact with my taste buds. The weight with which it presses flavour onto my palate is fundamental to my beer experience. This is why most of my favourite beers are IPAs in the 7% ABV range. This is my wheelhouse in which I will forever turn.

I also like the way alcohol makes me feel – it’s kind of taboo to say such a thing in beer writing, which is a shame. But this is how things are. Of course, I recommend drinking in moderation and always within your limits. But I also think it’s nice to occasionally get a three-pint buzz on. Responsibly. Always responsibly.

Of course, not everyone enjoys getting a light buzz on and there are situations where a lower alcohol alternative might be preferable for example a working lunch, or a prospective evening of operating heavy machinery. People are also being a great deal more mindful regarding their alcohol intake these days.

As a result, we’re witnessing an increase in the number of low or alcohol-free beer alternatives hit the market. Amongst these are breweries that are concentrating solely on producing lower alcohol alternatives.

The problem, however, with most no or low alcohol beers, is that they’re a bit shit. Too often I find them to be thin, insipid and lifeless interpretations of proper beer, which is why today’s beers from new London outfit Small Beer – based in London’s beating beer heart of Bermondsey – took me somewhat by surprise.

The Lager, at 2.1% poured with a tantalisingly pleasing amount of foam, giving way to snappy hop and bready malt aromas. Sure, it wasn’t quite as meaty on the palate as a pilsner at 5%, but the flavour was there and I could’ve certainly done with another bottle considering the speed at which I inhaled it. Next up was the Dark Lager at just 1%, which impressed me just as much. Plenty of robust chocolate and roasted coffee notes shored up the lack of body, making for another surprisingly satisfying beer.

I may not personally be quite converted to the trend for lower or zero alcohol beers just yet, but these impressed and I’d certainly recommend them if you’re looking for lower alcohol alternatives.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up some Small Beer in store or online.

Fundamentals #19 – Burnt Mill Ties That Bine DIPA

If you’re anything like me, you’ll have been drinking a generous share of Burnt Mill’s excellent beers lately.

At only nine months old Burnt Mill has already become one of the UK’s most talked about breweries and with good reason – it’s come out of the gate with a selection of well defined, hop forward offerings, as well as a cracking imperial stout and a mouth puckering pineapple gose. It should come as no surprise, then, that it was named as the best new English brewery  in the annual RateBeer awards last month.

Burnt Mill’s rapid rise to prominence represents a couple of important shifts in the brewing industry as I see it. First it shows that craft beers early adopters – the enthusiasts – still constantly crave the new. This can be frustrating when all you crave in beer is consistency and familiarity, but finding a balance between this and the hype is the catalyst, creating the energy that keeps beer ticking along. You might say it’s fundamental to the continued development of a maturing industry.

The other shift is that the rapid rise in popularity of breweries like Burnt Mill, along with luminaries including Verdant and DEYA, demonstrates the importance of producing quality beer from day one.

With more than 2,000 breweries in the UK market, there is no longer room for excuses (not that there ever was, brewers). There is no longer time to muddle around for a year or more getting things right. The consumer has moved too far to tolerate the below-average. It’s a market that demands the excellent and the exceptional, all of the time – reasons I think why Burnt Mill has thrived, thus far (hey, no pressure folks.)

This brings me to the Suffolk brewery’s first Double IPA, Ties That Bine, a gratuitously hopped beer produced in collaboration with hop supplier Simply Hops and yeast supplier Lallemand. The deeply golden beer reeks of sticky marmalade and freshly zested orange with plenty of melon, peach and apricot joining these aromas. It’s thick and resinous on the palate, with all those hop oils, residual sugars and plenty of weighty alcohol pressing waves of citrus and stone fruit onto your tongue.

On its surface is a West Coast IPA that could stand toe to toe with some of San Diego’s best. But there’s a little more to it than that, with Lallemand’s New England yeast strain adding stone fruit complexity to the mix. It’s a beer that’s as easy to throw back carelessly as it is to sit and muse over into the small hours. However you choose to enjoy it though, it’s likely your experience will be anything less than an immensely positive one.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a can of Burnt Mill Ties That Bine DIPA while you can.

Fundamentals #18 – Amundsen Bryggeri Dessert In A Can Pecan & Maple Pie Imperial Stout

“Check out the discus of my meniscus.” That’s what I’d probably say if I posted a picture of this beer to Instagram. That’s what all the kids are saying these days, right?

I’ll freely admit the pastry stout phenomenon has passed me by. Call me old fashioned but my favourite beers are, in general, ones that taste like beer – like malt, hops, yeast and water. I enjoy it when brewers experiment with ingredients such as fruit, spices or coffee. But I often struggle with beers that taste more like pudding (hence the term “pastry stout” for those who might not have come across it before) than they do beer. I’ve never had much of a sweet tooth, though.

What I admire about this beer is that it makes no bones about what it is. It’s literally called “Dessert In A Can”. The label notes ask why would you bother going to the length of pairing a beer with dessert when you can simply drink a beer that tastes like it. Basically, Amundsen is saying this is the beer equivalent to Head & Shoulders. Why take two into the shower? Etc.

While this beer wasn’t really my thing, I found myself discovering a soft spot for it as I enjoyed it late one Sunday evening. That might have had something to do with the face-warmingly large 11.5% ABV, undetectable behind the layers and layers of sweetness that this beer possesses. It pours like oil into the glass, rising to the rim and providing a perfect, oubliette dark silhouette in the glass. Ideal for sharing with your friends on your preferred social media platform.

Dessert In A Can’s aroma is a little like a fresh-out-the-oven crème brulée. To taste, it’s a little like drinking a homemade blend of condensed milk, maple syrup and treacle, with the sticky body coating your palate just like the aforementioned would. It’s a beer that makes no bones about what it is though, and the sweet of tooth would surely demolish a beer like this. For me, a chaser of bourbon provided the cut of alcohol I felt it needed to machete its way through all that cloying sugar, however.

It’s definitely a beer worth trying though, because is a really fun beer. You could say it puts the “fun” in “fundamental”.

You can find more from beer writer Matthew Curtis as UK editor of Good Beer Hunting and on Twitter @totalcurtis. Pick up a can of Amundsen's Dessert In A Can series here.