They say…

Des de Moor
Best beer and travel writing award 2015, 2011 -- British Guild of Beer Writers Awards
Accredited Beer Sommelier
Writer of "Probably the best book about beer in London" - Londonist
"A necessity if you're a beer geek travelling to London town" - Beer Advocate
"A joy to read" - Roger Protz
"Very authoritative" - Tim Webb.
"One of the top beer writers in the UK" - Mark Dredge.
"A beer guru" - Popbitch.
Des de Moor

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From the cellar: Van Steenberge Augustijn (St Stefanus) Grand Cru

Van Steenberge Augustijn Grand Cru

Van Steenberge Augustijn Grand Cru

ABV: 9%
Origin: Ertvelde, Oost-Vlaanderen, Flanders
Website: www.vansteenberge.com
First published: 5 February 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit.

Augustijn Grand Cru is still available from Van Steenberge, also known as Bios, a brewery I’ve since had the opportunity to visit. In certain territories including the UK it’s marketed by AB InBev under the name St Stefanus Grand Cru, though the brewery itself remains independent.

The brewery, in Ertvelde, East Flanders, is known for sweet-sour brown ales like Duchesse de Bourgogne [whoops — I meant Bios Vlaamse Bourgogne, now easier to find in the US than Belgium, under the name Monks Café Flemish Sour Red Ale], but this example from their generically-named abbey beer range is blond and tastily dry.

It’s a very delicate straw-coloured bottle conditioned beer that exudes an initially citric, later honeyed aroma full of the promise of hops, along with a malty smell that’s almost like soy sauce.  In the mouth it has a lively bead and is bone dry but honey-textured on the tongue.  The taste is complex: very herby, with some tangy, sherberty mango and passion fruit, intense hoppy dryness, and soft, phenolic and almost wheaty notes that finish with a flash of alcohol in a lingering, slightly soapy finish.

The name might suggest something in the style of Hoegaarden’s Grand Cru but this isn’t thick, rich or peachy enough and, despite the aromatic flavours, is not spiced.  Instead the model seems to be the herbaceous dryness of Orval, and while the beer falls considerably short of this Trappist masterpiece, it’s still an impressive and  stimulating ride.

From the cellar: Sailerbräu Altenmünster Brauer Bier urig würzig

Allgäuer Altenmünster Brauer Bier urig würzig

Allgäuer Altenmünster Brauer Bier urig würzig

ABV: 5.3%
Origin: Altenmünster, Bayern, Germany
Website: www.altenmuenster-brauerbier.de
First published: 5 February 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit, especially as in this case I guessed horribly wrong about the beer’s origins.

Altenmünster has nothing to do with Münster in Nordrein-Westfalen: it’s in Schwaben (Swabia) in Bavaria. The beer is a lager, not an Alt or Kölsch style. The beer is still around in its stoppered bottle, though in 2002 the original Sailerbräu brewery was taken over and closed, and the brand is now based at Allgäuer in Kempten, now part of the Oetker/Radeberger group. The strength has been reduced to 4.9%.

I picked this up from Bottles in east London, knowing little about it but perhaps attracted by the chunky Grolsch-style swing-top bottle.  I then tried to find background references to it, but ended up having to go to the company’s website.  It’s a bit of an oddity – it’s broadly in a Kölsch or Altbier style, a golden beer brewed with ale yeast but lagered, though it’s not from the classic region. Perhaps as the name suggests it’s from close to Münster where Pinkus Müller brews an Alt.

Whatever its origin, it’s an excellent brew.  It’s a beautiful pale blond, pouring with a fine, lively mousse and some head.  The aroma is rich, honeyed and malty with a flowery, citrus-peel character that suggests Styrian hops.  The taste is lovely and clean, slightly honeyed with melon notes and a developing, exquisitely delicate flowery hoppiness.

The hops take on a lime-like character in the pleasant finish, receding beneath the crisp malt for a while, then returning for a late burst of citric bitterness way back in the throat.  Well worth looking out for.

From the cellar: Herold Czech Black Lager / Tmavé speciální pivo

Herold Tmavé speciální pivo

Herold Tmavé speciální pivo

ABV: 5.3%
Origin: Březnice, Středočeský kraj, Czech Republic
Websitewww.pivovar-herold.cz
First published: 5 February 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit.

Herold, likely one of the world’s oldest breweries, has thankfully survived the upheavals in the Czech industry in recent years. It spent a period under US ownership but has been Czech-owned again since 2008. This beer has gone by several names including Bohemian Black Lager and Černý ležák (‘Black lager’).

The brewery, in a castle at Březnice, south of Prague, used to be a state-owned brewing research institute, and is known for re-introducing wheat beer to the Czech beer scene.  This beer is in the old style of black lager which, as Schwarzbier, is also found in the eastern part of Germany.

The label boasts a recipe of four malts, Saaz/Žatec hops and a 70-day lagering period in the castle cellars, plus a gold medal which, if my extremely rudimentary grasp of Czech is holding up, was awarded at the Czech Beer Competition in 2000.

The beer is actually not quite black but a deep ruby, pouring lively with a nice head and a smooth, refreshing and malty-hoppy aroma, with yeasty notes despite no evidence of bottle conditioning. The initial palate is full-on bitter chocolate, with good malt character and some vanilla creaminess, complimented by peachy notes on the swallow: the overall smoothness speaks of conscientious lagering.

Then the Saaz shows itself with a marked, bracing hop kick in the finish. If memory serves, this beer has the edge in terms of character over a better-known Czech entrant in the style, Black Regent, so that gold medal may well have been deserved.

From the cellar: Spaten Franziskaner Hefe-Weissbier Dunkel

Spaten Franziskaner Hefe-Weissbier Dunkel

Spaten Franziskaner Hefe-Weissbier Dunkel

ABV: 5%
Origin: München, Bayern, Germany
Websitewww.franziskaner-weissbier.de
First published: 5 February 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit.

Franziskaner Dunkel is a classic brand that’s still very much with us, although owned by AB InBev and its predecessors since 2003. The Franziskaner brand’s roots go back to 1363 and the foundation of a secular brewery adjacent to (but not part of) a Franciscan monastery in Munich. It’s been under the same ownership as the celebrated Spaten brewery since 1861 and used to identify that brewery’s wheat beer since 1964.

The logic of German beer labels dictates the apparent contradiction in the name of this dark ‘white’ beer from one of Munich’s biggest brewing names. In Germany major brewers still keep to certain standards, and this standard-issue dark wheat beer in the Bavarian style is an impressive and very good quality brew.

It’s a bottle-conditioned beer that pours with a beautiful thick head, revealing a rich reddish colour beneath and an inviting scent of bananas and cloves wafting from the top. It has a full, malty taste with delicate hop notes (hops are restrained in this style, and they’re present here only in the form of extract, as the ingredients list confirms).

The combination of fruity, slightly acidic notes and a beautifully soft texture gives the impression of peaches and cream, and the dark malts offer chocolate flavours as the taste develops. A taste of cloves emerges in the dry, biscuity, cracker-like finish to round off a very drinkable example of a classic style. No wonder the rotund Franciscan on the label looks so contented.

From the cellar: Gayant La bière du Démon

Gayant La Démon

Gayant La Démon

ABV: 12%
Origin: Douai, Nord, France
First published: 5 February 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit.

Founded by a merger of several breweries in the Douai area in 1919, Gayant (named after the giants of Flemish folklore) has been under the same ownership as the Saint-Omer brewery since 2010. Though La Démon is still strong stuff, its claim to being the strongest pale beer in the world is long lost.

Spotting the origin of this beer from the label is not straightforward: it claims to follow a recipe from the Boxer Brewery in Lausanne, Switzerland (does this establishment still brew?), but it’s actually made by Gayant, a small brewery in Douai, French Flanders, that’s also known for its apricottish bière de garde La Goudale.  The label still claims that the beer is the strongest pale beer in the world, and though this claim has in fact been substantially challenged in recent years, it’s still best to avoid swigging back pints of the stuff.

The colour is very blond and crystal clear (it’s not bottle conditioned), with a light malty aroma.  It doesn’t taste anything like its strength, having a clean malt palate with warming citric hints and a developing grapefruity dryness. Only a late, oily whiff of spirit-like alcohol on the swallow gives the game away, but blink and you’ll miss it in the onset of the dry slightly herby finish.

Not unpleasant, but to be honest, there’s very little to it, given the gravity and compared to some other ultra-strong brews like Bush.  Since there are so many much weaker beers with much more interesting flavours that can be enjoyed in greater quantities, this is probably one for headbangers only.

 

From the cellar: Lefebvre Abbaye de Bonne-Espérance (Ambrée)

Abbaye de Bonne Espérance Ambrée

Abbaye de Bonne Espérance Ambrée

ABV: 7.8%
Origin: Quenast, Brabant-Wallonie, Wallonia
Websitewww.bonneesperance.be/fr/la-biere
First published: 5 February 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit.

This beer is now an officially recognised Belgian abbey beer bearing the Erkend Belgisch Abdijbier logo, though it’s no longer brewed by Lefebvre. In early 2015 it was moved to Brasserie La Binchoise in Binche, Hainaut. The abbey website makes no reference to honey being using, but does say the wort is boiled in a direct-fired copper and the beer is dry hopped and bottle conditioned.

I sampled this soon after this Brabant brewery’s dark honey beer, Barbãr Winter Bok, and though the latter has hints of Styrian hops and honeysuckle, the scent of this abbey beer is overwhelming when first poured: not only honeysuckle but real, country honey. You can almost see the bits of honeycomb in the jar.

The beer is a lightish amber, and pours cloudy, though the label has no reference to bottle conditioning.  As the head diminishes more drying, herbal hop notes come through, and the beer proves notably well-hopped in the mouth, with orange, lychee, a honeyed yeastiness and a slightly cloying alcoholic taste that persists into the cheek-puckering, tart and mildly soapy finish. The conclusion is firmly in the direction of dry, bitter hops.

This is one of those beers that smells great and is very flavoursome but doesn’t turn out to be as satisfying as it should be, perhaps because the flavours could be better integrated.

From the cellar: Lefebvre Barbãr Bok

Lefebvre Barbãr (Winter) Bok

Lefebvre Barbãr (Winter) Bok

ABV: 8%
Origin: Quenast, Brabant-Wallonie, Wallonia
Websitewww.brasserielefebvre.be
First published: 5 February 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit. At the time the beer was was 8% ABV, and also known as Barbãr de Noël: it’s now 8.5% and simply known as Bok, and though available for a longer season is still a winter speciality.

This is the dark, winter version of Lefebvre’s bottle-conditioned honey beer Barbãr, brewed from October to February and described on the bottle as ‘the winter sleep of the warrior’. The gravity is enough to send anyone to sleep unless treated with care, even the stylised prehistoric warrior queen figure depicted on the label.

The beer is almost black, with a nice rich head, and a very scented, honeysuckle-like, slightly phenolic aroma, perhaps with some Styrian hops. The texture is smooth and honeyed, and the floweriness continues into the taste, which has hints of dandelion and burdock and rich liquorice flavours.

A splash of sweetness then develops, followed by a quite citric hoppiness and a slightly chocolatey finish. It’s a pleasant and perilously drinkable beer that somewhat resembles Hoegaarden’s Verboden Vrucht, though without the latter’s complexity, length and marmaladey denseness.

From the cellar: Het Anker Mechelschen Bruynen

Het Anker Mechelschen Bruynen

Het Anker Mechelschen Bruynen

ABV: 6%
Origin: Mechelen, Antwerpen, Flanders
Website: www.hetanker.be
First published: 22 January 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit. Sadly this is one of the historic beers since retired by its brewery. I don’t think I was quite accurate in likening it to the East Flemish brown ale style: more likely it was a late 20th century invention ‘inspired’ by earlier brown ales.

The Anchor brewery in Mechelen, former capital of Brabant, is best known for Gouden Carolus/Carolus d’Or, a sweet, strong speciality.  This beer is the brewery’s more everyday brown ale, but it still boasts a respectable gravity and is somewhat special in its own right.  The archaic spelling and grammar of the name indicates an old-style brew, and this bottle-conditioned beer is broadly in the ultra-traditional style of the brown ales of East Flanders typified by Liefmans, rather than their sourer, West Flanders counterparts.

It’s very aromatic, scented with violets, roses and spices, and an invitingly deep ruby brown colour, with a lively condition.  The palate is full and malty, still slightly flowery and with hints of phenol, ending in a tangy finish with plenty of distinct hops that have kindly waited their turn to allow the malt to assert itself.

The beer has something of the candyish quality of its more famous stronger stablemate, and the finish is a beautiful balancing act that just lifts it enough.  A ‘must-have’ for brown ale fans and well worth seeking out for everyone else too.

From the cellar: Harviestoun Old Engine Oil

Harviestoun Old Engine Oil

Harviestoun Old Engine Oil

ABV: 6%
Origin: Alva, Clackmannanshire, Scotland
Website: www.harviestoun.com
First published: 8 January 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit. 

Old Engine Oil hadn’t been around very long when I wrote this review: although based on an old porter recipe, it was devised for the first ever Tesco Beer Challenge in 2000, which it won. Unlike many other winners of that competition, it’s still one of its brewery’s best known beers today, despite my reservations about its name. Over the years since, Harviestoun, founded in 1986, has been part of a bigger group (Caledonian and briefly Scottish Courage/Heineken) then once again independent, and if anything is regarded even more highly now than in 2001. The beer has been available in a variety of strengths including a cask version at 4.5%.

Another speciality thrown up by Tesco supermarket’s Beer Challenge, this apparently won the Winter 2000 competition. Since it’s an unusual but very pleasant beer, this fact is easy to understand; what’s harder to fathom is the mindset of the marketing bods that first gave it such an unattractive name and then tried to claim that it’s “derived from a traditional Celtic recipe”!

Its only resemblance to old engine oil is its colour: it’s dark almost to the point of ebony, with ruby highlights in the light. It’s not bottle-conditioned but pours lively, with little head, giving off scents of liquorice and chocolate. The palate is full and malty, with dark burnt fruits and the promised liquorice and chocolate in abundance, with a slightly wine-gum-like quality offset by a bracing coffeish hop bitterness.

The finish is dry and tangy with hints of strawberry fruit. A welcome new departure for a brewery known for their lightness of touch, it’s a difficult beer to classify, with many of the flavours of a stout but the texture and drinkability of an ‘old peculier’-type ale. Far too good to waste on an engine.

From the cellar: Castle Eden Challenge Ale

Castle Eden brewery

Castle Eden brewery

ABV: 5.5%
Origin: Castle Eden, Durham, England
Website: www.cameronsbrewery.com
First published: 8 January 2001

Another review from the  written for the pioneering Oxford Database (OBBD). I’ve left it uncorrected — so please read it in that historical spirit. For more about Castle Eden and what happened to it, see the introduction to my review of Castle Eden Special Ale.

The beer challenge run by the Tesco supermarket chain continues to put interesting and imaginative British beers on the shelves. Durham-based Castle Eden apparently got commended for this beer, described as “dark amber coloured with a clever twist of orange”, in the Autumn 2000 competition. Flavouring beer with orange is such a clever idea lots of other brewers have thought of it, but this brew, which is not bottle-conditioned, turns out to be a paler colour than “dark amber” might suggest.

There’s a lovely initial bouquet of flowery hops, summery fresh orange peel and, more distantly, fresh varnish and mown grass. In the mouth the orange-peel flavours are underlined by a certain oiliness of texture, making it very smooth on the tongue; underneath the aromatic fireworks is good pale malt and a late-emerging hoppy edge to give a tangy swallow and a moderately sustained tangy-fruity finish.

Some British beers taste of oranges anyway – usually in the form of dark marmalade, but the refreshingly light and zingy orange here is unusually effective, even if ‘clever’ isn’t quite the right adjective.