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

Löwenbräu is a ‘bottom fermenter’. Has that whetted your appetite for a drop? In fact all lagers are bottom fermenters; so called because they are brewed at much cooler temperatures than ales, at the bottom end of the scale (35-50 degrees Fahrenheit, rather than room temperature). They take longer to mature, but generally have ‘less complicated’ aromas than ales, and are often frowned upon by real ale drinkers. Löwenbräu, however, is a German lager, and the Germans know a thing or two about lagers. And Löwenbräu, in particular, has a real sense of history. The name, which – literally translated – means Lion’s Brew, which can be traced back to 1383, when an innkeeper brewed his own beer at the ‘Zum Löwenbräu’ or Lion’s Inn. 1383! That’s 600-odd years of honing their brewing technique, and naturally they’ve got it down to a tee. I say ‘naturally’ and that’s exactly how it is brewed, with all-natural ingredients. It’s made according to the Bavarian Reinheitsgebot Purity Law, dating back to 1516, which states only the finest hops, barley, yeast and spring water may be used in the brewing process. The resultant drink is a very fine German lager, and a very fine German lager is well worth investigation. It is golden yellow in colour and produces a bright white head, and is particularly quaffable with food. Pub grub is okay, but it’s best with sausages and sauerkraut at the Munich beer festival where bottom fermenter fans regularly raise a toast to it. RM

London Pride. What do those two words conjure in your head? If it’s moustachioed men wearing plastic policemen’s helmets and sporting feather boas, then your mind is clearly not on the job at hand. We’re talking beer here, not gay pride marches. Now think Cockney. What is the image you get now? Is it a bull-necked ‘geezer’ propping up the bar of his local – taking time out from pontificating about all that is wrong with London (that it’s full of moustachioed men in feather boas, perhaps) and barking his order for a pint of London Pride? Actually, scratch that image, too. Although I’m sure bigots enjoy it along with the rest of us, London Pride is decent bitter that, as the name suggests, can be found most readily in this nation’s capital. It’s the best known beer produced by Fuller’s, a brewing company which was founded back in 1845, and has a pleasing mahogany colour and malty taste, which is balanced by three different kinds of hops. The firm is the last remaining traditional family brewer in London, and their historic Griffin Brewery in Chisick has the unusual accolade of being home to the oldest wisteria plant (a kind of climbing vine) in the UK. More plant connections? Well, London Pride is the title of a song penned by Noel Coward during the blitz in 1941, London Pride being the name of a plant which is noted for its ability to grow in even the most unfavourable urban spaces. So there you go. RM

If you find yourself with Canadian visitors who are feeling a bit homesick, stick a moose head on the wall, give them a hockey stick, and buy a case of Labatt Blue – they’ll soon be once again full of that Canuck joie de vivre. Labatt is Canada’s most famous and popular beer, having got its foot in the door almost 160 years ago. It used to be half-decent, too, but since being snapped up by InBev its quality seems to have declined. It is still brewed in Canada, apparently made with German aromatic hops, yet there is hardly any aroma – or taste – worth mentioning. Back in the 1980s, Labatt’s beer was sold to us Brits by ads featuring Malcolm the Mountie (‘he always gets his can’) played by Tony Slattery. Malcolm, with his penchant for rescuing scantily-clad ladies from snowbound log cabins, was around for eight long years, before being dropped after incurring the wrath of the real Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Your bog-standard Labatt’s lager is now called Labatt Blue, and there’s also Labatt Ice if you’re inclined to hunt it out. Regardless of brewing, some will consider Labatt’s biggest success was the discovery of Pamela Anderson. The then-unknown Pam was at a football game wearing a Labatt’s T-shirt when her image was shown on the stadium’s screen, to the delight of the crowd. She was invited down to the field, and thereafter Labatt’s offered her a modelling contract. The rest of her career is, as they say, history. HC

Lynx is the UK’s bestselling ‘own-brand’ lager, brewed in Holland exclusively for cash and carry wholesale chain Booker, and sold on through independent off-licences across the country. Unless you work in the trade, chances are you’ve never heard of Booker, despite the fact that they have 172 branches in the UK. But if your local offie has a ‘Premier’ sign above the door (and more than 20,000 UK offies do) then it’s trading under a Booker brand. Lynx Premium is a 5% pilsner and, despite its ‘value’ price point and appearance, it punches above its weight when it comes to taste. Negotiating the minefield of own-brand lagers can be difficult, with many offerings being nothing more than cooking lagers, and others tasting suspiciously like re-packaged bigger brands. But supermarkets and wholesalers seem to be moving towards sourcing good quality premium exclusives that can compete with established brands. The increasing presence in the UK of value-based German supermarkets Aldi and Lidl and their solid own-brands has probably had an influence, and the UK big hitters have been swift to follow suit, like the mighty Tesco with its Boheme 1795 pilsner. Booker also produce a Lynx super strength – the 8.5% Lynx Altra – which is also a UK bestseller, outperforming the more established likes of Skol Super. Perhaps the thinking man’s booze peddler, Booker instigated the literary Booker Prize for Fiction (now the Man Booker) in 1968. Now they receive the Non-Beardy Beer Book Prize for Best Own-Brand Beer. PB