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The mighty Garage Project has long been pushing the wine beer fusion thang and in recent years their Wild Workshop has taken this to a new level. Experimental barrel work and collaboration with winemaker Alex Craighead of Kindelli have resulted in a line of ‘experimental’ wines and funky wine beer hybrids.Today’s beer though is a return to a path first trodden by the brewery back in the early days and which may have paved the way for this eventual embracing of all things wine.Hops on Pointe has been part of the GP core range for yonks. It is described as a Champagne pilsner and uses Nelson Sauvin hops (the wine-y-est of all hops) and Champagne yeast to create a tight bead (or fine string of bubbles) that simulates the mouthfeel of Champagne. Clever stuff.And, if hops on pointe is GP’s beer answer to Champagne, then Phantasm is, without doubt, their answer to Sauvignon Blanc.Sauvignon blanc, and in particular “Kiwi Sav”, is so distinctive thanks to the presence of two main compounds - pyrazines and thiols. Pyrazines are responsible for those crunchy green bell pepper hits whilst thiols make up those gorgeous tropical notes of passion fruit, grapefruit, guava and gooseberry.The thiols aren’t in the actual grapes, but it is the interaction of a precursor with the wine yeast that results in their creation, so once again we find that it is yeast in wine, as much is it is in beer, that is responsible for creating some of the styles we love so much.The aforementioned precursors in grapes don’t exist in malted barley, so for Phantasm, Garage Project have done some clever things to make up for their absence.Firstly, the brewers used the Nelson Sauvin hop for aroma and bittering, an obvious move you might say, seeing as this is a Kiwi hop, named thus thanks to a flavour profile that is similar to Sauvignon Blanc. Next, they literally threw thiol powder into the mix and, thirdly, they co-fermented with Sauvignon Blanc grape skins (no doubt recycled from the aforementioned wine programme).So how does this triple-sav-attack play out in the beer? Let's find out!It’s a pale amber/yellow in the glass and sports a fine bead to boot. The nose is fabulous with a pilsner-on-steroids type feel. Bready, yeastiness and mineral sulphur hits give way to those tropical ‘Sav’ fruits we were hoping for. There’s that ripe (sweet) pilsner quality too that so many pilsners often seem to miss. The nose promises a lot and the palate really delivers it all. Gooseberries and passion fruits jump out of the glass and the level of bitterness really balances things in the finish…I’m an unashamed pilsner lover and this is right up my alley.The end result is also an interesting addition in the current trend for lighter styles and lagers. We’ve seen the taming of IPAs through styles such as cold and brut IPAs but this beer is really the augmentation of pilsner towards an IPA. So I guess what we’re seeing is a convergence of styles somewhere in the middle.It also throws up the interesting question of whether adjuncts can become more akin to additives. Is there even a difference? Grape skins seem natural - whereas thiol powders sound artificial? Winemakers have got into hot water adding pyrazines to their wines in the past, but, in the maverick world of brewing, the general approach is still very much one of ‘anything goes’ and, well, GP make no secret of the thiols. If anything they are more secretive about the addition of the grape skins - which is described as a ‘double shot’ aroma boosting co-fermentation method.We’ll leave the semantics of modern brewing for another day and bask in the happy fact that we are lucky enough to have envelope-pushing breweries such as Garage Project making exciting beers like today’s. Enjoy.

In 1971 Fuller’s took a good long look at their lineup of beers.They had an ordinary bitter, a special known as London Pride and something called Old Burton Extra Ale - but they needed something new.The Old Burton Extra (presumably a nod to the classic style of ales brewed in Burton, of which you can read more about here) just wasn’t quite special enough, and so it was retired and a new beer was made in its place. The new creation was given the rather fetching name of Extra Special Bitter - or ESB. Hence was born a legend that has gone on to become an (unofficial) style that has been copied around the world.So how did they make their special bitter - extra special? Without wanting to belittle the achievement, more alcohol is basically the answer - as the types of malt and hops used in Fuller’s ESB are essentially the same as those used in London Pride.It’s 5.9% abv in the bottle, which seems pretty light compared to most Belgian brews and many of the imperial, double and mega abvs that are currently on trend. But, at the time, it was a step up for a beer aiming at the mainstream pub market. It was obviously a smart move too and ESB has gone on to be known as the Champion Ale, winning awards on a regular basis.ESB uses classic British hops; Target, Challenger, Northdown and East Kent Golding, but it is the darker crystal and pale ale malts that are the key to this beer.Pale ale malt is slightly more kilned than pale malt, and Crystal malt (or caramel malt) is another classic steepable British ale malt, bringing more sweetness and colour to the mix. Throw enough of these into the mash bill, beef up the colour, body and abv and then balance with more hops. The results are extra special!Let’s give it a taste.The burnt amber, mahogany colour is just irresistible! Then the nose takes over, which is just beautifully deep and fruity and somewhat like a slice of malted barley nut loaf, freshly spread with marmalade. The palate is the ultimate contradiction. Both big and full and somehow light and ethereal thanks to malt and hops working in perfect tandem. There’s caramel and coffee, nuts and gentle spice... that combine with citrus and herbal notes to create a sumptuous mix of sweet and bitter. Woah… what a beer!Well, I can certainly see why they call it the Champion Ale! I love the audacity of the naming of his beer - Extra Special Bitter - and which Fuller’s has had the foresight to trademark. It really wouldn't work if the results were anything short of very, very special. I can only suggest to Fuller’s that they take another look at their lineup - perhaps it’s time for the Super Special Bitter! Buy Fuller's ESB here.

Let’s take another journey back in time today with a taste of the ale-y goodness of yesteryear.It is the late 1800s and we find ourselves in a small town called Burton-on-Trent in the English Midlands. Gentlemen walk the streets in top hats whilst street urchins frolic in the gutter as ladies promenade under parasols and push perambulators. The industrial revolution is in full swing and the smell of coal fires combines with that of malt and yeast as, somehow, this small corner of the green and pleasant land is the epicentre of world brewing.Breweries like Bass and Marston’s have been going for over a hundred years and have perfected the art that is the British pale ale, thanks mainly to the development of an ingenious piece of brew kit known as the Burton Union.If you haven’t seen one of these contraptions, the Burton Union is a strange and fantastical fermentation device with a Steampunk retro-futuristic wooden technology vibe. It consists of a series of gargantuan 150 imperial gallon casks, that are interlinked by pipes and fed from a feeder trough with freshly fermenting wort. As the casks fill and the fermentation progresses, beer and yeast is forced out through swan neck pipes at the tops of the barrels (we’re talking top fermentation here after all) and is collected in an upper trough. This beer is then trickled back into the feeder trough at the bottom leaving some of the yeast behind. Gradually the beer is both fermented and clarified. Gosh, weren’t they clever bunnies back in those days!I guess this is large scale industrial brewing at the end of the day, but it’s hard not to be wooed by the romance of this bubbling semi autonomous device!The Burton style is a distinct one with an element of oak in an oxidative environment that gives the yeast bionic powers and results in all those yeasty ale esters that make these beers so charming.There are only two breweries left that operate this system. The aforementioned Marston’s in the UK and Firestone Walker in the States, who make their Double Barrel Ale with a set up that is less archaic, but which works with the same interconnected barrel principle.That said, the “Burton” style is one that is aimed at by brewers all around the world, and which brings us to today’s beer.The 8 Wired Burton IPA is a nod to the beers of this, predominantly, bygone era - and is part of their new Brave Old World series which boasts an English Imperial stout too. I couldn’t find out whether there was any sort of Burton system involved, but the ingredients are bang on; Crystal Malts, East Kent Goldings hops and, most importantly, English yeast.Let’s get stuck into it…It pours a gorgeous deep amber with a bright white head. The nose is pleasantly restrained with oranges and citrus hop elements combining with gentle ester and malt notes. The palate ups the ante with a kick of fruity malt at the front of the palate that gives way to a whack of fresh bitterness in the finish. This is an IPA after all, and it’s delivering the hops I would expect - but in accordance with the style - there’s none of that new world tropicalia or oversaturated dankness that we see in so many modern IPAs. Fantastically drinkable… which is the bottom line we are looking for.I think we’ll be seeing a return to the freshness and drinkability of this style in the coming years. We’ve already seen a resurgence in the light and lagery and although this is a malt heavy style - there is a lightness of touch on the palate that so many IPAs miss these days.Grab yourself a can and make a welcome return to the old world. It’s been a while coming hasn’t it… Buy here

Poor old yeast… It really is the unsung hero of brewing.Take for example Delirium Tremens, today’s beer. The brewery shouts from the rooftops about how three different yeast strains are used in its creation - but I’ll be damned if I can find a single thing about what those actual strains are!If it were three different types of malt, hops or even three famous monks pitching in - you can guarantee they would all be named... but yeast, nah, not a sausage.I guess yeast gets a pretty bum rap in general thinking about it. We tend to align it to stuff growing between our toes and awkward conversations with doctors following an itch somewhere you shouldn’t… but in brewing, it is arguably the most important single ingredient.We all know that yeast is responsible for fermentation - it eats sugar and creates alcohol and co2 in the process. What we’re not generally so au fait with, is that yeast also creates phenols and esters that are super important congeners in the final flavour and aroma profile of your favourite brew.The soft fruity profile of English ale and the fresh crunchy cloves and high attenuation in German lagers are thanks mainly to yeast. Likewise, the peppery tang of a saison, the horse saddle notes of a gueuze and the banana and pear drop aromas of a Tripel - all thanks (in the most part) to yeast!Delirium Tremens does have a famously ester driven nose which, I have read, is supposed to speak of pears and oranges… so let’s give it a whirl!It pours like the archetypal blonde - golden orange with a pristine white head. Good start! The nose is pristine too… and with real complexity; the ripe oranges are there, as too are some lifted isoamyl acetate notes - tropical hints of banana and pear drop but these aren’t overpowering and some bitter hop and slightly medicinal clove and rye bread notes round things out nicely. The palate is really full, as befitting the ABV, and all the notes on the nose are there in spades with a an interesting interplay of green banana and citrus. In that classic Belgian style it’s both sweet and tart at the same time, and super moreish.I’ve always shied away from the Delirium beers, perhaps more so due to the branding and perfume bottle look - but this is a cracker. There’s heaps of complexity with fruit, medicinal and vegetal elements singing together that really have me thinking the three strains of yeast have certainly done their thing.So, next time you find yourself sipping on a brew remember, it’s not just about hops and malt - and spare a thought for that mighty micro-organism that just keeps on giving. Buy Delirium Tremens here.

Albarino has exceeded everyone's expectations, growing from a quirky, unknown Spanish white grape variety into an incredibly successful newcomer to the New Zealand wine scene - and all in less than a decade.  While the exact amount of Albarino planted in New Zealand's vineyards nationally has yet to be measured, its success is growing beyond even the initial promising results in the early New Zealand examples which were made from this noble white grape variety. It arrived in New Zealand via Riversun Nursery in Gisborne, the gateway for many new and improved grapes to this country. The nurseries there build up vines by creating what they refer to as budwood. This looks like sticks and is grafted onto rootstock which is resistant to phylloxera (an aphid that destroys grapevines). Long story short, Albarino was built up and trialled and the results were more pleasing than any other new grape variety to this country in, well, forever in our modern wine history.  "I think Marlborough should be full of Albarino," said a winemaker last week, over an informal coffee, while we were talking about the fifth vintage of Albarino that he has made. The great Spanish Albarino grape has naturally high acidity and thick skins, which give it strong resistance to high rainfall which can cause fungal disease in vineyards. It tends to be grown in high rainfall areas, so it has adapted well to such environments, which just so happens to make it a great fit for New Zealand.  Thick skinned grapes in loose bunches with tiny berries are the story of the Albarino grape and its character is highly developed flavours which come from relatively late picking of the grapes. This works well because of the grape's thick skins, which make it able to withstand the sometimes high rainfall at harvest. The climate in most parts of New Zealand is uncannily similar to those of Alvarinho and Albarino's natural homelands in north west Portugal and Spain. Little wonder it is doing so well here.  Join us to taste Alvarinho and Albarino in store on... Saturday 3 December from 1pm to 4pm No bookings necessary, just pop in on the day to try and buy Three great New Zealand Albarinos   2021 Esk Valley Albarino RRP $24.99 An absolute show stopper of a wine with succulence from the intense lemon flavours, along with hazelnut and oatmeal notes, all of which add to its full bodied appeal. Winemaker Gordon Russell softens the high acidity of this wine by ageing it for a year in the bottle, prior to release.  Buy here  2021 Nautilus Albarino RRP $30.99 / Special $25.99 Nautilus Albarino is a limited edition wine made by Clive Jones at Nautilus winery where the cool temperature fermentation preserves the briny, salinity of Albarino's refreshing dry flavours. A brief period of ageing on yeast lees following fermentation adds creamy balancing textural notes. Buy here 2021 Redmetal Vineyards Albarino RRP $34.99 Grant Edmonds makes this savoury, succulent and dry Albarino from grapes grown in the Bridge Pa area of Hawke's Bay and, wow, what a wine. It's intensely flavoursome and every sip lingers, thanks to the Albarino grape's naturally high acidity which provides great flavour memory in the mouth and the mind. Buy here

It seems that the topsy turvy world of Pandemic life has affected everything and a new state of self reflection has forced people to change careers, leave roles and generally shake things up in their masses. Even the niche world of Trappist brewing seems to have been hit!Over the last two years we have seen two authentic Trappist breweries leave the International Trappist Association (ITA).We covered the closure of the Spencer brewery in these very pages, famously after I waxed lyrical about their possible future spanning 100s of years - lol. Spencer had only just appeared as the United State’s first authentic Trappist brewery and last year Achel brewery, the newest and smallest of the seven approved Belgian Trappist breweries was also hit.If you’re not too au fait with the Achel brand (pronounced Arkul), then here’s a quick precis…The brewery is located at the Abbey of Saint Benedict in the northeast Belgium border town of Achel. Parts of the abbey actually lie in Holland and it was Dutch monks who built the first chapel back in 1648. The chapel became an abbey in 1688, only to be destroyed during the French Revolution, but was thankfully rebuilt by the monks of Westmalle in 1844 and the first beers flowed there in 1871.The first world war saw it demolished and stripped for its copper by the Germans in 1917 and it wasn't until 1998 that the brotherhood decided to get back into brewing. With the help of the monks of Westmalle and Rochefort Abbey, In 2001 the brewery released the Achel 8° beers.Unfortunately, over the last few years, the number of new callings at Achel has been in decline and the last few monks to live and brew there finally retired or moved on to greener pastures at Westmalle in 2021. As there is no longer a living monastic community at the site, the brewery can no longer be part of the ITA.Luckily for us, the brewing is still going ahead under the supervision of the Westmalle monks and the beer won’t change in flavour or any other discernible factor. In fact there has even been further investment in a new brewhouse. The only thing that has changed in fact is that the prominent label stating Authentic Trappist Product on the bottles is now gone.So it’s not all doom and gloom and maybe what we are actually seeing here is the reality of commercial brewing in an (almost) post-pandemic world, where every penny counts. At Spencer the issues were mainly financial, as I understand it, and the new set up at Achel might well be taking things down a more commercial avenue. I can’t comment on the company’s profits - but as part of the ITA they would have to go back into “monastic preservation”, whereas now, presumably the money can be invested elsewhere.Brewing is a tough gig and making money from it gets harder and harder. Likewise, incorporating commercial brewing into a monastic lifestyle seems to be getting trickier too.A sad thought indeed but, as I have said before, the world keeps turning and, one way or another, beer keeps flowing. Let’s cheer ourselves up with a taster of the Achel Bruin…It pours a beautiful deep brown with an off white head. The nose hits you with muscovado sugar, caramel, dark fruits and figs - which are complexed by earthy mineral notes. The palate is richly and malty but the carbonation seems to take the edge off and lighten things up, as too does the restrained hop component. Gorgeous!We might not be allowed to call it an Authentic Trappist beer anymore - but boy does it still tastes like the real deal!

You wait for ages and then two come along at once! That’s right, following on from last week, it’s another cracking brew from the Belgian producer Vander Ghinste.If you missed the last one, let me catch you up. Omer Vander Ghinste made his first beer back in 1892 and now, five generations and 125 years later, the brewery is still going strong. In fact, the first beer was called Ouden Tripel and over the years it has evolved to become Roodbruin which is today’s beer.The Vander Ghinste website describes Roodbruin as an “authentic red-brown beer of south-west Flanders - Flanders sour”. This all sounds perfectly spiffing and I guess we could leave it there with me telling you simply to buy it - but, we're better than that, aren’t we!So, let’s get our geek on and dig a bit deeper!Of course, it turns out that there’s some interesting points associated with this description once you start looking into things. The beer is straddling a fair few styles - it’s both red and brown, a Flanders sour and the name itself, Roodbruin (which translates to red brown), sounds uncannily like oud bruin. So is it a Flanders red or an oud bruin - or somewhere in the middle?It has to be said, there’s a pretty big overlap between Flanders reds and oud bruins -the subtle difference being that oud bruins have more alcohol, deeper chocolate malt flavours and less acetic qualities. The distinction was made by Michael Jackson but, as far as the Belgians are concerned, the two styles are very much from the same family - and which explains our split personality description and perhaps the word play that Vander Ghinste is embarking on.However, the styles are also geographically defined to a certain extent. Flanders reds are more typically associated with West Flanders, whereas oud bruins are usually made in East Flanders. So, going by this, our Roodbruin is more closely aligned with a Flanders red.The beer is made by blending top fermented ale with Lambic beer aged in oak barrels for 18 months. This aged beer addition, and all the wild yeast funk it brings, is perhaps the key to the style and results in the famous sour notes and wine like qualities that we again associate a bit more with a Flanders red than an oud bruin.Let’s see if it plays out true to type in the glass…It pours a lovely mahogany colour with burgundy tints framing a deep mocha - which one might describe as red brown if one wasn’t trying so hard (lol). The nose is tart with cider and wine-like notes, red fruits and hints of oaky vanillins - complex and sophisticated it keeps me syphoning like an elephant at a watering hole. The palate walks a tight line between sour and sweet like a fresh crepe sprinkled with sugar and a then dowsed in lemon juice. There are red apples and tart red berries at the fore but little glimpses of chocolate malt that keep teasing until the end. The sourness eventually wins over - but it’s not acetic, as such, just tart and crisp and mouth-watering.It’s the acid that sets this style apart and certainly takes us into Flanders red territory and the likes of peers such as Rodenbach and Duchesse de Bourgogne. This one perhaps a bit more restrained - but just as moreish.The distinction between styles can seem pedantic and subjective on occasions, especially as our desire to classify doesn’t always fit with how the beers are perceived in the locales in which they are actually made. We may have gone down the beer styles rabbit hole once again today and reappeared exactly where we started but, If nothing else, next time your mates talk about east coast and west coast IPAs - you can certainly get one up on them with your knowledge of east and west Flanders!

It’s another slice of Belgian brewing history today courtesy of Vander Ghinste with a tale that spans 125 years and five generations.The story begins in 1892 in the town of Bellgem, which looks awfully like a misspelt attempt at Belgium but, I assure you, is a small town in West Flanders, near the city of Kortrijk.It is here that Remi Vander Ghinste buys a house (and accompanying buildings) for his son Omer, allowing Omer to dive head first into the world of brewing, which he does with his first beer called Ouden Tripel. We all need something to kick start us right - and it seems the good ‘ol bank of mum and dad was just as prevalent back in the late 1800s as it is today.Beer branding was a much simpler affair in the old days, it would appear, and so Omer named the business after himself - Beers Omer Vander Ghinste. Simple and to the point and still rather exotic to anyone who doesn’t come from Belgium I imagine.This simplistic, yet rather impactful approach continues on the marketing front as Omer hits on the genius idea of installing stained glass windows of his beer brand in the shop fronts of pubs and bars. Although this is very much a nod to the pleasantries of a bygone era, the real beauty of this idea is the permanence of the advertising medium. Windows tend to remain whilst posters wear and tear and are eventually replaced.Omer’s elegant take on permanence and how to win the war advertising didn’t stop there!Omer met a lady called Marguerite Vandamme who was the granddaughter of Felix Verscheure, owner of Brasserie LeFort, a thriving town brewery located in nearby Kortrijk. They fell in love, married and - you guessed it - had a son. Together they hit on the very clever idea that by calling their son Omer - the expensive stained glass windows that they had so painstakingly installed around the town of Bellgem would not need replacing when the next generation took over. Of course, if you go down this route you have to do it properly, and five generations on - Omer, the great-great-grandson of the founder, has stepped into a role at the brewery.That’s pretty impressive in my opinion but must make things tricky at Christmas when the whole family sits down around the dinner table?The brewery has of course gone from strength to strength and in 2013 added the Brasserie LeFort range to its lineup in a tribute to Felix Verscheure, founder of Brasserie LeFort. Tripel LeFort was added three years later and immediately won a gold medal at the European Beer Star Awards in Germany. Let's have a look at it…It’s a beautiful golden amber in the glass with a thick white head that magically appears from nowhere. The nose is crisp and clean with citrus, green bananas, candy, cloves and subtle coriander notes and opens into a palate that is rich and succulent - and rather like a trip to the sweet shop - where confected citrus and tropical chews, green banana lollies and bitter, spiced gobstoppers mix with lime jet planes and sherbet dips. A top drop that somehow manages to be both full bodied and light and zesty all at once.There something totally great about traditional brands such as Vander Ghinste that seemingly never change. We feel reassured and comforted by the notion of permanence in our lives. Add to the mix a style such as the tripel that will never get old and the results are simply magic. Buy here.

The story of St Bernardus is a complex one that begins with monks and cheese and an exodus from France...It's the early 1900s and the Trappists of Mont des Cats are an unimpressed bunch. The local French laws of the day tax their not so ill gotten gains and noticing that the same law has yet to be implemented in Belgium, they up sticks and move all of about 10 kms to the town of Watou, just over the border in Belgium. Now, whether this is tax avoidance or tax evasion is probably a matter of opinion but, either way, we’ll let them off as settling into their new confines in a local farm, they started making cheese, naming their home the ‘Réfuge de Notre Dame de St Bernard'.There wasn’t any beer being brewed at this stage but no smoke without fire one might say and where there’s monks and cheese - I'm guessing at least a beer or two was consumed.By the start of the 1930s, tax law in France had eased and so our financially minded monks of St Bernard decided to return to the motherland. Vive la France! They sold their dairy to a man called Evariste Deconinck who continued making cheese until the Second World War. Cheese, cheese and more damn cheese - I hear you cry - where’s the beer for heaven’s sake!!? Bear with me, we’re getting to it right about… now (and you’ll be pleasantly surprised with how things unfold).Shortly after the Second World War, Evariste Deconinck was invited by the Trappist monks at Westvleteren to brew and market their Trappist beers under licence, with an initial contract to last a whopping 30 years. I couldn’t find out much on how this actually came about but my imagination is running riot, after all, one doesn’t simply magic up a brewing contract like this!Did the currency of cheese exchange hands at some stage? Or, was cheese making knowledge passed on in exchange? Maybe it was just money, after all, this is what typically makes these things happen. The Abbey of St Sixtus where Westvleteren beers are brewed is also a mere 12 km down the road - so no doubt this facilitated things too.Regardless, our cheesemonger turned brewmaster didn’t muck about and hired Polish born Brewer Mathieu Szafransk. He brought with him considerable know-how, recipes and, most importantly, the famed St Sixtus yeast that was being used to brew the beers of Westvleteren. Beer and yeast, monks and cheese - smoke and fire!The business was on a roll and as an apparent heir joined the brewery in the shape of Evariste Deconinck’s daughter Bernadette, In 1962 a new 30 year deal was signed which would keep the beer flowing.The Westvleteren beers would still be flowing out of Watou until this day and St Bernardus would be little more than the name of a monastic tax avoidance project if it weren’t for the coming together of the International Trappist Association in 1997. The ITA created the Authentic Trappist Product which is awarded exclusively to beers that are brewed inside an abbey by monks and which, of course, precludes the beers of Watou.So, the contract expired for good but, ironically, the beers of Westvleteren do still flow from Watou - they are just called St Bernardus.St. Bernardus Abt 12 is brewed with the same recipe that was passed on from the monks of St Sixtus (aka Westvleteren) in 1946 when the St Sixtus monks were making something called Westvleteren 12. St Bernardus still uses the original St Sixtus yeast too and considering that Westvleteren now uses a yeast from Westmalle - St Bernardus is perhaps closer to the original no.12 than modern Westvleteren!Crazy stuff. I’ll refrain from a tasting note as this blog is turning into a weighty tome. Just remember that Westvleteren 12 was awarded “Best Beer in the World” in 2006, 2007, 2010, 2012, and 2013 by Ratebeer and that St Bernardus Abt.12 often acquires similar superlatives.So there we go… I’m off to buy a bottle of both beers and try them side by side. Done! Buy St. Bernardus Abt 12 here.

New Belgium popped up in this blog a few weeks ago with their Fat Tire Amber Ale, the first carbon neutral beer to be made in the USA. This brewery really does walk the walk in terms of the environment and even though they are big, and by default a decent contributor to the problems of climate change, they really are doing quite a bit to become part of the solution and less of the causeCitrus Rescue is another string in their bow as they take aim at being carbon neutral by the year 2030. This beer is brewed in conjunction with Imperfect Foods, an online grocer at the forefront of eliminating food waste. One such way of doing this is by using the ugly food that is often simply thrown away but, aesthetics aside, is completely edible. Of course in this instance the unwanted food stuff is oranges and New Belgium uses 35,000 imperfect oranges to make this beer. You could argue that the beer will taste fine without the oranges I guess, dry hopped with Citra, Lotus and Mosaic, but the bigger picture is certainly about raising awareness and educating people to hopefully change perception around the aesthetics of food. This is the first domino in a long line and the knock on effect is hopefully that people will take steps to reduce food waste in their own lives, which will then help alleviate hunger, slow climate change, and support farmers. We have to start somewhere right!Let’s see how attractive these ugly oranges make this beer.It’s pale gold in the glass with a brilliant white head. Boom - there’s certainly plenty of citrus notes on the nose with the orange combining with the hops and malt to create more of a pink grapefruit effect. The palate continues the obvious orange theme but it’s not heavy handed in any respect with the orange addition melding into the beer nicely.This beer will take you back to those youthful pub trips with mum and dad when you nagged them enough so that they eventually broke and poured some beer into your lemonade. It’s shandy-like for sure - but one for grown ups and with more sophistication than it lets on.A fun beer with serious intent in every respect and hopefully one that will force people to take a look at the food wastage in their lives and take steps to amend. Buy New Belgium Citrus Rescue here

In this day and age it’s very easy to get swept away in the wave of modern and rather creative branding, but Timothy Taylor was very much a real person. Born in Bingley, Yorkshire he set up a brewery many, many years ago back in 1826. The brewery is still family owned to this day and continues to make cask conditioned ales and traditional styles such as Landlord Pale Ale.The Landlord brew didn’t arrive on the scene until 1952 and although a youngster in terms of the brewery's lifetime, that makes it 70 years old this year! It’s traditional in style, but there is a lot that goes into its creation which, in my opinion, pushes it to the next level.Firstly, super pure water is sourced from the Knowle Spring which sits beneath the brewery and which the founders put in place in 1894. I love this fact and wonder how many modern breweries would go to such lengths to get their hands on decent water?Next up, the brewery only uses Golden Promise malted barley, a top notch barley which in turn is milled to a very tight spec. The process is gentle so as to generate less flour and minimise damage to husks which introduce more phenolics, but, at the same time, strong enough to break apart the kernels.Timothy Taylor is also one of the last brewers in Britain to exclusively use whole leaf hops. These are introduced in the boil and also via a hop back after the boil (a process that is also becoming rarer and rarer amongst larger breweries). This results in the retention of spicy, floral and fruity notes and increased aroma from hop oils that would otherwise be blown off in the boil.Lastly, and arguably most importantly, the brewery uses its own unique yeast strain called, appropriately, ‘Taylor’s Taste.’ It is repitched each day and is over 2,000 generations old. Yeast really is the unsung hero of brewing and there’s often little mention of just how many flavour and aroma notes are the result of good ‘ol yeast, working hard to make sugars into alcohol and generating carbonation in the process.The Landlord nose really is a fruity cornucopia and most of these will be esters generated by the yeast doing its thang - let’s see if this bottle does the job…It pours a beautiful red hued orange colour, not dissimilar to a wine cask finished whisky. Ah, the malt is strong in this one - lovely caramel notes infused with raisins and orange driven citruses meld with bitter hints that have me thinking of a rusty Morris Minor at a scrap yard (in a good way of course!). There’s honeysuckle and aley esters surging from left right and centre. The palate carries the same sweet fruit/malt weight but the finish is all about tart hops that add real zest and zip to the experience, leaving the palate crying for more…This is a style that, whenever I come back to it, has me wondering why I drink so much beer that tastes of little other than hops. Landlord is as much about malt and ester notes as anything else. Super traditional in this day and age in every respect (just look at the label) but in the cluttered world of modern beer - arguably this now makes it stand out from the rest.

I saw this beer and couldn’t help but think of the Belgian surrealist artist René Magritte. Do you know the chap? He painted some fabulous stuff in the 1920s and 30s and one of his most famous was a picture of a pipe, plain and simple, with the inscription - ceci n’est pas une pipe written below and which translates into 'this is not a pipe'. It’s fittingly called the Treachery of Images - look it up if you are not familiar with it.This simple juxtaposition of an image and contradictory text creates a three-way paradox; the pipe is obviously a pipe, but at the same time it’s possibly not a pipe because the painting tells you such and finally, it absolutely isn’t a pipe - because it's actually a painting of a pipe. It feels like our Unibroue Belgian style IPA riffs on this surrealist humour. Ce n’est pas le fin du monde translates to 'it’s not the end of the world' and, well, it’s not is it, because it’s a bottle of beer. And yet, it is a product with a high environmental impact made using large amounts of energy and sporting a high carbon footprint making it very much part of what sort of feels like the impending end of the world.The beer itself is quite a paradoxical proposition too - a Belgian Tripel that presents as a new world IPA. Is this even possible I hear you ask? Well, let's find out. It’s a luminous gold amber in the glass with a pristine white head. The nose screams Belgium Tripel loud and clear with cloves, ginger, candied peels and banana notes swirling in a mist of hoppiness. The palate is where the IPA styling begins to appear. It’s lighter than the nose would suggest with oodles of citrus flavours and a hop heavy, long bitter finish.Well it certainly works - but is it an IPA with a Belgian twist or some kind of Indian Pale Tripel? Perhaps it should really be called Ceci n’est pas une IPA?Regardless of what it is or isn’t, it will certainly have you sighing a long sigh of contentment, and dispelling any thoughts of impending doom. So maybe the name is spot on after all!