Tuesday, 2 June 2026
Augustiner Edelstoff
It's a lovely drinking beer. Light, but with enough flavour to jkeep you interested. Perfect for casual afternoon drinking. Nothing too distracting.
I do love Austiner's beers.It's hard to beat their Helles when it's served Bayerischer Anstich (straight from a wooden cask). But it's a very delicate beer that doesn't come over as well in the bottle. Edelstoff fares much better.
What style of beer is Edelstoff? I'd call it a Spexial. A pale Lager that's stronger than a Helles. Many Bavarian breweries make one. With a gravity of around 13º Plato and 5.6% ABV.
The classic way would be to call the weaker one a Helles Lagerbier and the stronger one a Helles Export. Though that system has largely broken down since WW II. Agustner do call their standard beer Helles Lagerbier. So ther eis still that.
I'm glad I can get hold of a decent Lager when I'm out. It's depressingly difficult in Amsterdam. Mostly, it's just Pils of varying degrees of awfulness. Edelstoff is a class better. And better class.
I thought you might want a change from Youngs. If only for a day.
Saturday, 11 April 2026
Sunday, 29 March 2026
Sunday, 25 May 2025
New local update
Checkpoint Charlie it is. Our new local. That seems to be settled. For the time being, at least. Despite the prices going up. Twice. (When I were a lad, prices only went up in Amsterdam once every couple of decades.)
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| Outside Checkpoint Charlie. |
I feel quite at home there now. Which I should do, after more than a year frequenting the place. Some of the barstaff seem to recognise us. Which, again, they should do after a year. Lucas has chatted with a couple of the other regulars. It would be more of a surprise if he hadn't, sociable beast that he is. Alexei plays the pinball. Which is probably the main reason he turns up.
It's not the same as Butcher's Tears. Yet. All those layers of interactions need time to build up. Like layers of paint. I'll give it a few more years.
![]() |
| Tears II garden. |
We've visited Tears II, the Butcher's Tears shop, a couple of times. And had a couple of beers in their massive garden, which was pleasant. But it's not a pub. Ruling it out as our local.
Hard work building up a local. But it's work I'm prepared to put in.
Monday, 10 February 2025
Stout!
No, this isn't a plug for my book "Stout!" Though it is excellent and well worth buying.
Checkpoint Charlie is the theme. And it's a followup to an earlier post Where I wrote that I was getting to feel more comfortable about Checkpoint Charlie as our new local. But that there was one thing that I missed from Butcher's Tears. The beer.
Being able to drink a Stout of a Mild. As at Butcher's they usually had at least one of each on tap. Something I really appreciated. But was never going to happen at Checkpoint Charlie.
And, blow me, if the very next time I went to Checkpoint Charlie they didn't have a Stout on their guest tap. And not just any Stout. De Molen Hel & Verdoemnis (Hell & Damnation). A really, really good Stout. I was in heaven.
![]() |
| A glass of De Molen Hel & Verdoemnis. |
"You really like the Stout Don't you?" the barman asked.
"Yes. How do you know?"
"You drink more than one. Most people only have the one."
"Well, I'm used to it."
The first sip is quite intimidating. But I soon got used to it. And it started going down scarily easily.
Usually, the guest beer lasts two weeks. I think the Stout will last longer. As everyone else is sticking to just one. Fingers crossed it will still be on next week.
I can't pass up on this chance to push my book "Stout!"
https://facebook.com/events/s/the-story-of-london-stout-by-r/304408102440443/
Thursday, 30 January 2025
New local update
How is it going, the search for a new local? Well, we seem to be settling on Checkpoint Charlie.
For the last six months our little gang has been going there pretty much every Saturday. Who's there on any given weekend varies quite a bit. Me and Will are often off on the other side of the world. And Mikey is sometimes too knacked after working. But most weekends at least some of us make it.
![]() |
| Steamed up window of Checkpoint Charlie |
We haven't really started to interact with other customers. Not being as intimate as Butcher's Tears, contact with other punters isn't as easy. And it doesn't seem to have the same number of Saturday regulars. Perhaps the drinkers here are in more self-contained groups, too.
At least the bar staff seem to be getting to know us. Probably because Lucas is such a social bloke.
What do I miss most from Butcher's Tears? The beer.Being able to reply, when asked what I'd like to drink "A pint of Mild, please." Having the choice of multiple beers I would like to drink. Not just Mild, but also a full-strength Stout. Or an Old Ale.
On the beer front, Checkpoint Charlie just can't compete. There is a guest tap, which sometimes has something to tempt me. Otherwise, there's just 't Ij Zatte amongst the draught offerings that I might opt for. Otherwise, I have to delve into the bottled selection for a Tripel Karmeliet.
On the upside, they do have a drinkable jenever - Zuidan Korenwijn - at a decent price. Something I take advantage of later in the session.
It's starting to feel more like home. Not the same as Butcher's Tears. And without some of that's features. But still a new home. For now.
Wednesday, 24 July 2024
Football pilgrimage
Dropped by one of the most historically significant football grounds in the world today.
It was dead cool. Slightly weird that they have an Amsterdam stand. Until you look into it more closely.
And found a can of Porter in a shop around the corner from my hotel.
A winning day.
Tuesday, 2 July 2024
A new local?
As planned, we gave Soundgarden a try on Saturday.
The weather being rather nice, we arranged to meet up earlier, at 15:30. Why? Because we wanted to sit outside where there's limited space. Best to turn up just after opening time.
Andrew, Alexei and me were almost on time. I blame the kids or that. I was ready to leave home before 3 PM. Traffic was a nightmare, too. Which is why we took the no. 17 rather than the no. 2 tram.
Mikey and Lucas were already sitting outside. Freshly-poured beers in front of them. Just as well we got here early as most of the tables are already occupied. Soon the kids have brought me a bottle of La Chouffe.
Soundgarden is slightly unusual as it backs directly onto a canal. Which gives it a nice view. And also means that customers can arrive by boat. Which is exactly what happened not long after we got there. How cool is that?
Unlike the garden itself. Which was pretty warm. Too warm for my liking. And with almost no shade. That's a mark against the pub.
The inside was totally empty. Which meant I could take lots of nice photos without people getting in the way. I won't bother trying to describe how it looks. I'll let the photos do the talking.
So how did our evaluation go? Well, the beer is more expensive than Checkpoint Charlie. On the other hand, the spirits are cheaper. The music is pretty good. But that's also true of Checkpoint Charlie. The ouside space is, overall better at Soundgarden.
Not a whole lot to choose between the two pubs, really. But it's all about feeling. Where feels right? Where do we feel at home?
It's too early to say yet. More trials are needed. Like next Saturday.
Soundgarden
Marnixstraat 164-166,
1016 TG Amsterdam.
https://www.cafesoundgarden.nl
Tuesday, 25 June 2024
The search for a new local
It's been a couple of months since the Butcher's Tears taproom closed. I'm still not over it. And we still haven't settled on a replacement.
We've been giving Checkpoint Charlie a try for the last few weeks. It's an OK pub. But it still doesn't feel like a local yet. Why not? That's a tricky question. One I'm not sure I can answer very well. Because it's not about logic. It's about feelings.
What makes you feel at home in a pub? It's a complex question. At least part of it to do with interaction. With the barstaff. With other customers. It doesn't have to be anything very profound. Or very long. Just a few sentences. Or even just a few words. It doesn't need to be much. Even a simple smile or nod.
That isn't happening at Checkpoint Charlie. Maybe we just haven't been going there long enough. Or it could just be that there aren't many others who go there every Saturday. I can't say that I've recognised any customers there yet. Or any of the servers. Perhaps because it's quite a large pub. I'm not sure.
Whatever the reason, we're not feeling Checkpoint Charlie. So we're going to try somewhere else next Saturday. One of the places that was on our initial list of possible new locals. Sound Garden.
It ticks most of the boxes. Including the most important one: decent beer at a decent price. It's also closer to home for me and the kids. Which is important for a lazy git like me. At the moment, while the number 2 tram is diverted, we can get there directly. Which is another plus. OK, it's further for Will to travel. But he's often swanning around in the jungle somewhere.
Let's see how Sound Garden goes. Maybe it will work out. Or maybe we'll give Checkpoint Charlie another try.
Friday, 12 April 2024
A new local
The closing of Butcher's Tears was a sad day. And not just because I wasn't there for the last day. Swanning off to Brazil.
Once the sobbing subsided, a question was voiced: where to next?
There weren't many options. With these criteria:
- reasonably priced
- easy to get to
- decent beer
- not overrun with fucking tourists
That ruled out anywhere in the centre. Pretty much. We gave Siouxie's Saloon a try. Not my sort of place.
Soundgarden was suggested. Ticking many boxes. But, from some reason I can't recall, we decided to go with Checkpoint Charlie instead.
Last Saturday was or third time there. Not really giving me a local vibe yet. But that takes time to build. Harder to bear is the lack of draught Mild and Stout. Especially Headroom. A beer that took me closer to the 19th century with every sip. Weihenstapher Dunkles Weissbier is OK. But three of four pints is enough. And Checkpoint Charlie does sell korenwijn. Drinkable jenever. Not like the industrial cleaner called jonge jenever.
The presence of a pool table and pinball machine mean Alexei is much more likely to come along. And reminded me of a previous local.
"We always used to play pool in Rick's Cafe. And pinball. During Happy Hour, at the weekend. Drinking De Koninck."
"And?"
"That was our local for several years. Me, Lucas, Will and Mikey."
"Can you just take your shot?"
I surprisingly potted two balls in fairly convincing fashion. Then totally missed the 8-ball. I did win, though. Unlike at pinball. Where he thrashed me.
Rick's Cafe was our local for quite a while. At least five or six years Probably more. Drinking half-price, happy-hour De Koninck.I had a couple of Guinness breakfasts there, too, after a night of clubbing.
I can't remember why we stopped going there.
Then there was Cafe Belgique. We hung around there for a few years. I had my 40th and 50th birthday parties there. Where the beer tokens were miniature Czech 50 and 100 crown notes. Mikey worked there for a while. Lucas DJ'd once.
Even earlier, back in the early 1990s, me, Lucas and Will often hung around in the De Pijp. Like Centurion on the Ceintuurbaan. Or the odd little place close to Sarphati Park where we'd play pool. And heard cumbia for the first time.
Both are long gone.
Late drinking started at Korsakoff. A bar/club sort of thing that looked like it had started as a squat. It stretched through several floors of a pakhuis - an old, narrow warehouse. They had some OK beers: witbier, De Koninck on draught. Duvel and a Trappist or two in bottles.
When Korsakoff closed, if we still had a thirst, Mazzo wasn't far. A club where we could drink for two hours more. Though a couple of years later we did go there for clubbing. When they had to move after a fire, Lucas had a regular DJ slot in the chillout room. Happy days.
Both are closed.
Ter Brugge was another regular meeting place. When Will and Lucas used to play football with me and the kids in Vondel Park. One of the cheapest pubs around. Where I drank Westmalle Tripel or La Chouffe.
It was remodelled and renamed in 2016.
We've been through quite a few regular haunts over the years. Me and my long-term mates. When somewhere closes or changes or gets too fucking expensive, we move on. As we have done many times before.
Butcher's Tears closing was sad, but we're moving on. The group of friends is what matters. And is the whole point of going down the pub. Not where we choose to meet.
Let's see if Checkpoint Charlie sticks. If not, I'm sure we'll find somewhere else. We always have.
Friday, 17 November 2023
Loss
A good, or even a halfway decent, pub is more than just a building retailing alcoholic drinks. It's a community of people. With varying ties of varying strength between its members. But it's a fragile thing. Once destroyed, it's almost impossible to recreate. The loss of a local is far more than the simple demolition of a building.
I've been thinking about this quite a bit. Because my own local, the Butcher's Tears taproom, isn't just under threat, it's on death row. The whole area is to be demolished and replaced by posh flats. If the original plans had gone through, it would have been knocked down a couple of years ago. The end of the year was a recent plan. But, due to legal challenges that has now been pushed out to March.
For more years than I care to remember, me and a few of my mates have been meeting up there once a week. Joined more recently by my son Andrew. It isn't exactly the same group every week. Often someone is travelling or otherwise engaged.
We've been wondering where will be our new local. It's not an easy decision. Lots of factors are involved.
While our group will be able to find somewhere new to meet. the community feeling will be gone. Overt the years, we've come to know the other regulars. If only enough to give each other a nod of greeting. Though with others we indulge in a little music criticism. All these little interactions are important, however trivial they may individually be. And will inevitably be lost as everyone finds a new drinking home. Almost certainly not the same one.
Butcher's Tears closure will be a heavy blow. But we've only been drinking there for under a decade. What must have been the sense of loss for those who had frequented a pub forty years? It must have been like the death of a close relative.
Me? I'm just going to enjoy the last couple of months. I'll worry about the future later.
Thursday, 2 November 2023
Always too late
"Did you know there's a new pub?"
"A new pub?"
"Yes, a British one. Not far away. You just have to follow our street. It's close to the Rembrandt Park."
"Cool. I'll have to give it a try."
Back at home, I dive into the interweb to search this place out. The directions were rather vague. But it's easy enough to find. There aren't that many pubs around this way.
And, bugger me, it's a pub I know. Mostly because it's directly opposite the primary school the kids attended. Yes, i did drop in there sometimes to pass the time when I "accidentally" arrived too early. What did they sell? Some keg Pils, obviously. Something better bottled. Which is what I assumed I drank. An 't Ij beer or Duvel.
It was always the same set of locals whiling away the afternoon. One old chav would turn up in his mobility scooter. Then get stuck into jenever. I can easily imagine my own future there.
I would have said: "I wish that pub had been there when my kids were at the school." But it doesn't open until 4 PM. An hour after the school's kicking out time. A shane that. I think they're missing a potential market there.
Bar Brother
Curacaostraat 95,
Amsterdam 1058 BS.
info@bar-brother.com
https://www.bar-brother.com
Thursday, 24 August 2023
Freedom!
The days just fly by. Unlike when I was a wage slave. Talking of working, I officially retired last week. At least in Holland. Not sure when it will be official in the UK. What do I feel? A great joy that I'll have to fucking work again.
Not for other people. I work every day for myself. But that's fun, so it doesn't feel like work. What freedom!
Now I just have to claim all mt many pensions.
Tuesday, 20 June 2023
Festival fun
I don't really do festivals any more. Too much standing and queueing. Just the really cool Lager ones at Butcher's Tears. Then again. Amstercam's Brettanomyces Festival isn't a beer festival.
A celebration of all sorts of wild shit. But that's not what I'm going to talk about.
Which is going on a proper, old-fashioned piss-up. A long session of ordinary-strngth beer. Which slipped down so well, I was shocked when my third shout came around. In my round with John Clarke and Sebastian Sauer. I make that 11 pints each, at least. Unless my maths brain has melted.
It brought back memories of Friday nights in Leeds. Where the session started at 17:30 opening time and ended at last orders at 23:00. With lots and lots of Tetley's Mild consumed.
After listening to an enlightening talk about Prize Old Ald by Henry Kirk, we - a ragtaggle bunch of brewers, geeks and me - flopped over to Paleis Straat. Where there was a block party going on. And Bierkoning were serving beer the way god intended. Straight from the cask.
Good stuff, too. Like Zehender Kellerbier. And other things. I forget what they all were. I was too busy talking crap and supping down.
Fuck me. Is it really 20:00?
Thursday, 13 April 2023
On an Amsterdam canal
A fluffy flotilla floats serenely overhead. Aliens invade, fleet blurred into invisibility. Icy yellow tulips reach for the sky in surrender. Cool.
But best get back to my Private Eye. And that can of brown beer. The sunlight: it plays tricks.
Thursday, 16 February 2023
Trends
Being trendy is not something I've often been accused of. Having determinedly kept my finger as far away from the pulse as physically possible for five decades. I'm just glad that I still have a pulse.
Not living under a rock and occasionally venturing out, I do sometimes notice things. For example, while Andrew is loading up with this week's special offer Pils, I often run my eyes over Dirk's* beer selection.
IPA started turning up a few years back. But relatively mainstream ones, in the form of Brand or 't Ij. More recently, crafty stuff has been appearing. OK, Oedipus, now owned by Heineken, isn't true craft any more. Some of the others are more worthy of the description. (If you think that it still means something.)
Great you might say. Not so much for me. Because they no longer sell any Trappist beers. As elsewhere in Holland, the range of Belgian beers available is being trimmed back. There's still Leffe Gulden Draak, Kasteel, La Chouffe, Duvel and Tripel Karmeliet on offer. Even Duvel Tripel Hop. But that's about it for Belgium.
When I was first in Holland, "special beer", as it was called, was all about Belgium. Even if the beer didn't come from there, it was inspired by it. T Ij, and the handful of other small Ducth breweries, mostly brewed Dubbels, Tripels and the like. Though there are still quite a few Belgian beers hanging around, newer Dutch brewers seek their inspiration elsewhere. Mostly the other side of the Atlantic. (Like everywhere else in the world.)
In the last couple of years there's been a big change in the draught offerings from pubs. Once about all you could expect was Pils, Witbier, De Koninck and maybe La Chouffe or an Ij beer. De Koninck, once the most widely available draught beer after Pils, has become a rarity. La Chouffe, which used to be all over the place, is becoming scarcer, too.
What's the current situation? Pils still reigns supreme,, obviously. That's far from displaced as Holland's favourite. But Witbier is increasingly being replaced by Hefeweizen. Usually either Paulaner (owned by Heineken), Augustiner Franziskaner (AB-Inbev) or Grolsch (Asahi).
Popping up everywhere is IPA. Like to guess which one is most common? It's not local favourite 't Ij IPA (now with a non-sexist label). No. Obviously, it's Lagunitas. Belonging to the Heineken stable helps. What with them having so many pubs tied to them.
That sums up what's happening in mainstream pubs, that is, non-specialist craft places. It's very different from the oceans of Pils and few bottles of Trappist on offer when I first arrived here. Craft places. Well, the few times I pop my around their doors, it's all the usual international stuff: Loads of IPAs of varying degrees of sludginess.
One thing hasn't changed, though. Most of the pub trade is still in the hands of big brewers. They've just, wisely in my opinion, broadened their focus. Why do you think people like Heineken have been buying up craft brewers? They need their products for their pubs. And they don't want to have to buy them from someone else. That would be stupid.
* Dirk van den Broek, a fairly cheap supermarket chain.
Monday, 20 June 2022
Pubs
When I was at university I went to the pub most days. Sometimes twice, afternoon and evening sessions. The first in the student union bar, the second in the Cardigan Arms.
Down in London to program, my pub visits weren't much reduced. A couple of lunchtimes and a few post-work evenings with colleagues for a start. Then a couple of evenings with other friends. It could easily average out to more than one session per day.
This isn't a confession of rampant alcoholism. Many sessions were only a pint or two.
Now I think of it, it was in New York that I started to lose the pub habit. I never drank at lunchtime and rarely went for beers after work with colleagues. The only exception being Friday night darts at Manhattan Brewing. Otherwise, it was just the occasional visit of a local Staten Island bar. As they were pretty crap, I didn't bother often.
Though in Rotterdam, I usually called in Boezembrug on the way back from work. Just for a bottle or two (no sane person drank the draught beer) and a game of pinball. And try not to get bothered by the annoying anarchist hippy.
Swindon was surprisingly good for pubs. And beer. Which encouraged me out quite often. Though less than in my single days. Drinks sometimes on a Friday lunchtime with colleagues. The odd time after work. Every now and again the odd pint in the pubs on our estate. Weekend evenings in the Old Town drinking Morrels and Wadworth. Or down the railway Village for Archers.
Settling in Amsterdam, pubs might be on the cards a couple of times a week.At least the first time around.
Melbourne revived the pub man in me. I dropped by the Canada most days on the walk home from work. Just to cool down. With a schooner of Cooper's Stout. Plenty of visits later in the evening with Dolores.to the local pubs with draught Coopers.
Definitively back in Amsterdam, pubs played prominent role again. At least three or four sessions a week.Saturday and Sunday Happy Hour in Rick's Café. A few jars in Café.Belgique once or twice a week.After the kids came along, I'd take them to the pub on weekend afternoons. Café Belgique if I could be arsed to go into town. Bedier if I couldn't. Evening sessions were pretty much a thing of the past.
When the kids became teenagers, the afternoon sessions dried up. What was left? The odd evening with mates.
Now I'm down to once a week. Saturday afternoon with Andrew and the lads down Butcher's Tears. And that's it, pretty much.
Why do I visit pubs so much less? Part of it is just being at a different stage of my life. But money has a lot to do with it, too. A couple of drinks each for me and Dolores can top 30 euros. I can't afford to do that six or seven times a week.
When I started drinking, it was almost exclusively in pubs.This may seem strange to those not quite as ancient as me, but beer used to be cheaper in pubs than in shops. I almost never drank at home just for that reason. Plus bottled beer was way inferior to a good pint of cask.
The latter consideration might also play into Dutch pubs being less attractive. In the UK, cask will tempt me into a pub. While here pubs don't sell anything better than the Abt I drink at home.
Thursday, 17 February 2022
Out to Atlanta
I'm in no rush. My flight isn't until 16:45. Plenty of time to pack the last few bits and bobs and eat something. Though I plan on getting to the airport well ahead of time. Who knows what sort of delays I might endure there?
I check when the next 15 bus is due. As loads of staff are off sick with Covid, the GVB is running a reduced service. No need in hanging around unnecessarily at the bus stop.
I just miss a 397 at Haarlemmermeerstation. Luckily, I only have to wait a few minutes for the next.
Schiphol is like a ghost town. Almost no-one around. Which I don't mind, as it makes everything quicker and less stressful. Where is everyone? It was much busier than this when I went to Brazil in November. I thought things were supposed to be getting back to normal? Usually, the airport would be packed with winter holidaymakers at this time of year.Fortunately, KLM twice extended my gold status during the lockdowns. I troll along to the lounge for some free scran and booze. I can have my pick of seats. Only a handful of other punters.
I don't go crazy. A couple of whiskies and a bit of food. Two orange juices, too. Want to keep the vitamins topped up.
Heading off to the gate early, I realise that they're boarding ahead of time.
Once seated, I've a while to wait before take-off. Best watch some rubbish on the entertainment system. Damn. The screen doesn't respond, no matter how frantically I tap on it. As the two seats to my left are unoccupied, I shuffle along to the next one. The screen does work here. But it's set in Russian. How the hell do I change the language setting?
I don't get chance to find out as someone sitting in the row behind is in the wrong seat. He comes and occupies the window seat and I scuttle back to the aisle. I'm not going to sit getting bored for forty minutes and whip out my laptop. Let's see what Dolores has loaded up for me.
There are a couple of episodes from Al Murray's last series I haven't seen yet. That'll do.
I pack away my laptop just before take-off. The seat belt sign hasn't even been switched off when the cunt in the seat in front of me goes full recline. What a total and utter selfish bastard. No way I can use my laptop with that cunt's seat in my lap.
Luckily, there are plenty of empty seats. I move across the aisle as soon as the fasten seatbelt sign goes out. No chance of being reclined on here. The seat in front is vacant. As is the seat to my right. Perfect for dumping all my crap on.
The flight drags a bit. I can only find one other film to watch: Two Weeks' Notice. Also, pretty bad, but time-passing. When that's done, I revert to my laptop.
We land on time, despite departure being a little delayed by a no-show whose bags had to be unloaded.
This is great. Not too much walking to immigration and not much of a queue. I’m through in just a few minutes. They don't even take my fingerprints. Why is that? Do they already have them on file? But how do they know that? This is the first time I've used this ESTA.
Soon I'm bouncing down the freeway in a taxi. My driver is Bangladeshi and we chat about cricket.
I'm at my hotel about an hour after landing. Pretty good going. I relax with some duty-free whisky. Not Islay. That’s got too fucking expensive. All over 70 euros now. Instead, I got a bottle of 37-euro Tominton. I'm not made of fucking money.
By midnight I'm ready for whisky-assisted lights out.
Tuesday, 21 December 2021
Here we go again
Every Saturday me and Andrew walk down to Butcher's Tears for a few beers. Meeting up with my mates Will and Lucas.
We used to get down there between 15:30 and 16:00. But since they started closing pubs at 17:00 a few weeks ago we've started going earlier. What's the point in going to a pub for just an hour?
The plan was different this week. As Lucas had to work on Saturday, we arranged to meet on Sunday instead. Which was also the last time they were going to be open until the New Year. I'd have to reschedule our Sunday Dinner to be a bit earlier to get to the pub on time.
When 14:00 rolled around on Saturday, I weirdly fancied a pint.
"Do you want to go sown the pub, Andrew?"
"Sure."
He's never one to turn down a beer. Especially when I'm paying. Which is always when we go out together.
There were only a few other punters when we got there. It filled up a bit, later, but wasn't packed.
Since the hours have been restricted they've had a more limited range of draught beers. Just three or four instead of seven of eight. There was a new one, though. Something simply called Blond. Barman Hubert explained what it was.
"It was supposed to be a Pilsener. But something went wrong in Belgium [where some of their beers are brewed]. I think they used the wrong yeast."
That's what it tasted like. It had the spicy flavours associated with some Belgian yeasts.
"It tastes a bit like Leffe Blond." I told Andrew when he let me take a sip. "But better."
Andrew seemed pretty pleased with it. At least, he ordered a second pint.
"See you tomorrow, Hubert." I said after settling our bill.
"I don't think so."
"Why? Won't you be working?"
"They're closing the pubs again from tomorrow."
Damn.
"Just as well we came down today, Andrew."
Who knows when the pubs will be open again. What will I do on Saturday afternoons?
Thursday, 4 November 2021
Dutch Stout - why?
The reason I hadn't ever speculated on this point is simple. I'd seen Dutch-brewed Stout as soon as I came to live here. It wasn't very common. I only really remember one brand, van Vollenhoven, brewed by Heineken. I drank it a couple of times. No tasting notes, I'm afraid. Just a few raw stats from my website
Van Vollenhovens Stout
6% ABV, 16.1° Plato
Bottom-fermented stout. Named after an Amsterdam brewery bought by Heineken in 1941 and closed in 1960.
Bitterness 33 EBU, colour 180 EBC.
(Pretty sure I've got the closure date of van Vollenhoven wrong I think it was much earlier than that, just after WW II. And it might have been 1942 when Heineken and Amstel jointly took control of van Vollenhoven.)
It wasn't a particularly memorable beer. I don't think many tears were shed when it was quietly dropped. Soon to be resurrected, luckily, after Heineken sold the rights to the name. It was first brewed under licence at De Schans in Uithoorn. It currently resides at Poesiat and Kater in Amsterdam. A lovely beer, which you should try if you have the chance.
Getting back to the initial question, the simple answer is: because they had been brewing Stout in Holland since the 19th century And it followed the same course as in other parts of Europe. Initially, Stout (though sometimes called Porter) was imported from Britain. Locals brewed noticed that drinkers would pay a premium for it and decided to get in on the act.
I doubt it was ever brewed in enormous quantities. But, as the profit was larger, it was worth a brewer's while.
Other British styles which were imported - such as Mild Ale and Pale Ale - never really caught on. Only Stout. Though not a big seller, it was mainstream enough to figure in price-fixing arrangements.
Sometimes the quantities were tiny. Amstel sold just 88.26 hl of Stout in 1939, a mere 0.03% of its output. Bizarrely, all of it on draught. In the 1950s, Heineken brewed production batches on its pilot plant. But they did still continue to brew Stout, these big Lager breweries like Amstel, Heineken and Oranjeboom.
Quite nice that there's a just about uninterrupted history of Stout brewing in Holland. They're much more common again now. Butcher's Tears alone brews dozens of the things.
Why were the Dutch brewing Stout in the middle of the 20th-century? Because some Dutch drinkers got a taste for the black stuff in the 19th century.




























