Non-Beardy Beer

MCKEWAN’S EXPORT ALE

Beer Book — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 13:36:15 +0000

Scottish & Newcastle
UK, 4.5% ABV

One of Scotland’s finest, this dark, caramelised beer promises ‘quality and strength’ and – like Ronseal – it does exactly what it says on the tin. Before ecstasy and the spliff, the four-pack of McEwan’s was the ticket into any party you weren’t invited to. Throw in a half-bottle of Glenmorangie and you’d be guaranteed first shot at the Twiglets and the choice of bedroom at any party in the land. Export is still sold on draught in many nicotine-stained bars across the country – any pub needing a makeover or with Blanket on the Ground still on the jukebox will probably serve a damn good pint of it. At 4.5% strength, it can hold its head up in most company. It is the beer of choice for many rail-travelling football fans, and is always prominent on a Friday on the East Coast mainline between Aberdeen and King’s Cross – when anywhere up to 48 cans may be found on a table of four returning oil rig workers. Obviously the brew never makes the drinker abusive to ticket collectors, and it does so much to enliven and cheer up the quiet coach on long-haul journeys. Most travelling drinkers bring their Export onto the train in a carrier bag – in the supermarket it is an inexpensive buy, but on the railways it is more expensive to buy than a three bedroom terrace house in Leith. Proudly ‘only ever made in Edinburgh, Scotland’, McEwan’s Export is a national treasure – it cannot be long before there is a GCSE module studying its history. MW

ZYWIEC

Beer Book — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 13:34:44 +0000

Żywiec
Poland, 5.7% ABV

Do you keep giving this hugely popular Polish beer a wide berth because you don’t know how to ask for it in the boozer? It’s quite simple, using only two syllables. First, Zhiv as in Dr Zhivago. And then yets as in the involuntary throat spasms you make with your throbbing head down a Krakow hotel toilet and vague memories of being eight sheets to the wind the night before. Zhiv-yets. With its strength of 5.7% tasting more like nine or ten, Żywiec is triple-filtered to remove anything as namby-pamby as subtlety, leaving a golden brew that is slightly chemical on the nose, Happy Shopper loaf-like in the body, and with an aftertaste of freshly rusted nuts and bolts. Żywiec’s gimmick is a heat-sensitive logo on the label that only appears if the beer is at the right temperature (+4°C), and disappears again when exposed to body heat. This is handy for checking that you’re experiencing the optimum drinking pleasure, and also for proving to yourself that you’re merely bored rigid in one of the dreary chain pubs that are its primary UK stockist, and not actually stone cold, toes-up dead. So, it’s difficult to order, unpalatably bitter and worryingly addictive. Żywiec does, however, have one bonus feature that excuses it all: thanks to the exclusive use of the purest water from springs at the foot of the Skrzyczne Mountain (Pronunciation? You’re on your own there, kidda.) it’s reputed to be absolutely hangover-proof. I beg to differ. MJ

SCRUMPY JACK

Beer Book — Mon, 21 Jun 2010 13:33:35 +0000

Scottish & Newcastle
UK, 6% ABV

Scrumpy Jack’s origin lies in the obsolete dialect word ‘scrimp’, meaning a withered apple. ‘Scrump’ is the verb that was used to mean stealing somebody else’s apples, but originally referring to the custom of collecting windfalls. A variety of locally-grown gems such as Brown Snout, Tom Putt, Foxwhelp and Chisel Jersey are used in the production of Scrumpy Jack; a proud and traditional drink, made in one of the oldest cider mills in the UK. A true amber cider, this is also one on the decline – courtesy of all the new trendier brands. Coming in at a fairly potent 6%, it isn’t one of those flat warm real ale-types, but falls somewhere in between those and the sweet, fizzy stuff that you used to buy at the offie in your early teens. For me, it conjures up images of sitting lazily outside ye olde pub in the quaint village of Scrumpyshire on a summer’s evening, a few locals and farming stereotypes scattered around, a friendly game of cricket on the village green… then a load of out-of-towners turn up in their X5s to do impressions of The Wurzels, and order bottles of fashion cider, pour it into iced pint glasses and discuss city living in their expensive education accents. There’s always someone out to spoil the quintessential vision. Joe Strummer was from Somerset. I bet he never stood for such intrusions when he went back to his roots for a ploughman’s and a pint of the good stuff. SW

LEFFE BLONDE

Beer Book — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 12:25:24 +0000

InBev
Belgium, 6.6% ABV

I often have a glass of Leffe Blonde with a meal instead of wine, not least because it has its own attractive goblet glass, which is a must, although it’s probably not for lager heads. As the name suggests, this is a light-coloured, almost amber beer, yet it has a wonderful deep, rich, caramelly flavour and has a great aftertaste, which is pretty rare in many of the beers I’ve experienced. I’ve noticed that almost everyone seems to have a different take on the flavours of Leffe Blonde – fruity or nutty or caramelly or whatever. This demonstrates that, like a great book, different people get different good things from a good beer. Watch out though – it’s high in alcohol content, which may be a plus or a minus depending on where and when you’re drinking it. It was originally brewed by monks in Belgium (hence it is known as an Abbey beer) and is still brewed to the same recipe in the town of Leuven, albeit now by the multinational corporation InBev. So it’s one of a minority of brands owned by big corporations that hasn’t been watered down for UK drinkers – yet. Dare I say this beer is good to cook with? That’s both in the glass and in the recipe; it adds a sweet dimension to any meal. Admittedly, Belgium does produce better-tasting beers, but they are harder to find, especially outside of their native country. A final point – try not to mispronounce it – Leff, not Leffy! HC

LECH

Beer Book — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 13:10:54 +0000

SABMiller
Poland, 5.2% ABV

Of all the issues concerning immigration to the UK, Eastern European nations joining the EU, and the ensuing political fallout in this country, I think it’s safe to say that one undeniably positive impact has been the widespread availability of various foreign lagers in your local boozer. Lech is such an example – and forgive the awful name for a second, because it’s better than the draught rubbish we routinely drink. And the snappily-named Kompania Piwowarska (translated from the Polish it becomes the decidedly un-snappy ‘Brewing Company’) know they’re onto something if the blurb on their website is to be believed. Talk about allusions of grandeur – they just plough straight with the claim that they make ‘THE best lager in the world’. There is no ‘probably’ about it. I don’t actually agree with their claim, but it’s not the worst lager in the world either. Lech is quite bitter, and you’d ideally want it served very cold. And luckily, it isn’t so strong it’ll make you collapse, nor is it so weak you’ll spend half your evening, afternoon, or morning (depending on your level of alcoholism) on the toilet. Available widely, it’s not too hard to find in many of the major chain pubs, and you can also find it in cans and bottles at your off-licence or supermarket. The fact that it’s not available here on draught at least means you’ll never have the issue of a bad pint. Not a bad beer at all. DA

WHITE LIGHTNING

Beer Book — Mon, 31 May 2010 13:26:25 +0000

Scottish & Newcastle
UK, 7.5% ABV

If you’re a White Lightning drinker, the chances are that you are also eating from a bin and living in a hedgerow and probably wouldn’t benefit from reading a review of it. Or you are too busy listening to Happy House music and smoking ‘tac’, and are incapable of reading anyway. However, I’ll soldier on. It’s made of fermented corn syrup. It’s cheap. It’s so sweet that your teeth are in danger of falling out after a mouthful. It’s white cider. It’s probably one of the worst drinks money can buy. I drank this once when I was absolutely brassic and needed to get skulled in an instant… and it was from Netto too (oh, the shame). There is no sophistication about this drink. You buy it in two litre bottles with one thing on your mind. There’s no pleasure to it, no satisfying aftertaste and it shouldn’t be served with dinner, or anything else for that matter, unless of course you are eating from said bin. When White Lightning was unleashed, it was originally only available in three litre bottles (for the price of two litres, kids!). In 2004, after turning the majority of the lower-classes into borderline alcoholics, Scottish Courage developed a conscience and stopped selling it in three litre bottles – meaning that fans of the drink had to fork out for two bottles at a time. And don’t try pouring it into a pint glass with ice and pretend you have a job – you’re not fooling anyone. SW

VICTORIA BITTER

Beer Book — Mon, 24 May 2010 13:24:25 +0000

Scottish & Newcastle
Australia, 4.8% ABV

The Aussies have got it all haven’t they? Beautiful beaches, cities and girls. Fantastic wine, food and weather. But, just like the beer in question, I’m not bitter. No, seriously, Victoria Bitter is not bitter – it is in fact a lager. As the label depicts and Australian etiquette (sic) dictates, everything must be shortened to a colloquialism. A barbeque is a ‘barbie’, a kangaroo becomes a ‘roo’ and so Victoria Bitter is known as ‘VB’. Many Aussies I know despise this beer as cheap, sugary, bulk-brewed blandness. Technically, they’re not far off the mark, the Aussie conglomerate Carlton & United Beverages, who also make Foster’s, haven’t used fresh hops in the brewing process for many years, preferring to use hop extract because it’s cheaper and quicker. No matter how it’s made, VB remains an Aussie mass market favourite. Because of its fresh, not-too-gassy taste that is yeasty and slightly sweet, it goes exceptionally well with burnt meat. Aussies will buy their VB for the barbie by the case or ‘slab’, as they say. Sold mainly in chunky fat bottles known as ‘stubbys’, they can be drunk quickly therefore your beer stays colder, especially when your bottle is insulated in a neoprene stubby holder. In the UK you’ll find VB stubbys being sold at pint prices in Aussie theme bars, but whether it’s called bitter or lager just give thanks that they don’t yet brew a Victoria Dark version or you could be heading to your mate’s barbie with a case of VD. GT

TYSKIE

Beer Book — Mon, 17 May 2010 13:23:15 +0000

SABMiller
Poland, 5.6%

Regarded by many as the most – and some might say only – palatable Polish beer, Tyskie (that’s Tisk-yeh) is closer to a Czech pilsner than any of its compatriot rivals, with a golden colour and a thick white head, and because of its infinitely smaller gut-rot potential, it’s consequently its home country’s best selling brand. Still brewed in the southern Polish town of Tychy – close to Katowice and birthplace of no less than Liverpool FC’s clanger-prone former ‘keeper Jerzy Dudek – this beer is part of a long and self-contained tradition dating back to 1629. Thanks to the influx of Polish nationals, however, it has quietly and subtly worked its multiple award-winning way into the pubs, hypermarkets and grotty corner stores of Britain. Strangely in a market usually hell-bent on world domination, Tyskie’s overlords SABMiller seem perfectly happy to keep it as a parochial concern and currently offer very little in the way of English blurb to entice the casual internet browser or indeed make life simple for clever dick contributors to impertinent beer guides. Maybe they’re trying to retain an air of mystery and east European otherness: who can tell? But by using a very helpful online Polish-to-English translator, it seems that the best way to appreciate Tyskie is as follows: ‘Cover with beer hand – szklankę and aggressively zamieszaj. Discover next szklankę, but then, sweat it involve air fastly nose right now pestilence. Then, you will feel bouquet of fruit smell like bananowy, truskawkowy or jabłkowy.’ Couldn’t have put it better myself. MJ

TUBORG

Beer Book — Mon, 10 May 2010 13:21:45 +0000

Carlsberg UK
Denmark, 4.5%

Big news for UK drinkers: Tuborg is back, back, back! And we hadn’t even realised it had gone away! Yes, Carlsberg UK, brewer of Carlsberg, a Danish medium bitter pilsner, have relaunched Tuborg, another Danish medium bitter pilsner. Carlsberg say they are both very different, with the Carlsberg brand tasting of ‘summer apples and pine’, and Tuborg tasting of ‘flowers and lemon’. I’m not so sure about that – to these cynical tastebuds, they both taste like quite a lot like Skol, another Danish lager from Carlsberg. Like Skol, Tuborg was last seen as a 1980s no-frills watered-down version of European lagers. The new version has a beefed-up 4.5% ABV, but can it really be expected to compete in a marketplace bossed largely by a very similar stable-mate? Tuborg was first brewed in 1873, so it pre-dates Carlsberg, but is that enough to make UK drinkers clasp it to their bosoms? What Carlsberg hope will differentiate the Tuborg brand is the marketing angle. Carlsberg have chosen to align the new Tuborg with live music, sponsoring a stack of UK festivals. Tuborg is already linked with live music in Europe, having sponsored Denmark’s Roskilde Festival. And even in its previous life as a 1980s ‘standard lager’, Tuborg danced to a musical beat, with TV ads including a particularly 80s big-haired spot featuring Bruce Hornsby and the Range-style piano-noodling, and a memorable ‘Tu-Tu-Tu-Tuborg’ bargain basement rip-off of Peter Gabriel’s Sledgehammer video (with voiceover from Chris ‘Tiswas’ Tarrant). PB

STRONGBOW CIRRUS

Beer Book — Mon, 03 May 2010 13:19:41 +0000

Scottish & Newcastle
UK, 5% ABV

In the summer of 2006, something very strange happened: the sun came out for more than an hour and Britain melted. Hot and bothered drinkers turned to new and exciting beverage offerings – and millions of them bought pint glasses filled with Magners and enough ice to sink the Titanic. The ice age all came together perfectly in the balmy, sweaty heat of summer 2006, backed, it has to be said, by an aggressive marketing campaign. But one set of cider drinkers did not have their heads turned by that newfangled caper and they were the Strongbow drinkers – dedicated fans of an altogether earthier appley goodness. S&N have clearly spotted this, and introduced a kind of halfway house between Magners and Strongbow – a Frankenstein’s monster called Strongbow Cirrus. The problem is that Cirrus is so watery, and so far removed from the original Strongbow brand that it actually tastes sweet. Sweet Strongbow, I ask you! Oh cruel, cruel fate, to be tempted by the green-eyed monster into making sub-par cider, which, in financial terms, may well unfortunately have some lasting effect on the original beautiful golden nectar. I mean, there’s got to have been some extra money pumped into marketing the stuff, and where is that going to come from? God help them if they end up damaging the original Strongbow brand – I know some of those dedicated Strongbow drinkers, and there’s no doubt they’ll fight a good fight. SG