Dutch IPA

IPA is getting dead mainstream in Holland. Several of the old Lager brewers make them

Heineken-owned Brand has an IPA and a Session IPA. The former is an OK beer. Not had the latter. On principle, as it costs more than the straight IPA, but us only half the strength. Where's the logic in that.

Heineken have yet another IPA in the Dutch market, in the form of Lagunitas. Do they brew it in Holland? It wouldn't surprise me.

Gulpener, quite a small Lager brewery, have a New England IPA, of all things.

Yesterday a beer in the cooler in Dirk van den Broek* caught my eye. Grolsch IPA. I couldn't remember seeing it before so I grabbed a couple of bottles.

I came down this morning and saw the two bottles were empty. I don't remember drinking those last night.

"Did you drink my Grolsch IPA, Andrew.

"Yes, Dad."

"At least tell me what you thought of it."

"I liked it."

Andrew got a taste for IPA while we were in the US. And also acquired a habit of hoovering up any booze we leave unattended.

Time to crack one open for myself. With a side sample for Dolores.

There's a bit of the grapefruit thing going on. Quite subdued. Not crap, by any means. Just inoffensive. I prefer a more in your face IPA. Like Sculpin. Grolsch IPA is also a bit weedy - just 5.5% ABV. Whilst Brand's is 7% ABV.

"What do you think, Dolores?"

"It's like the beers from Butcher's Tears. A bit like Green Cap."

"It does smell grapefruity, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but not too bad. Not my most favourite beer. But Drinkable." Dolores says, polishing off her sample. Praise indeed.



* A cheap and cheerful Dutch supermarket chain. Like Morrrisons, a bit.

No more travelling

At least, for a while.

I was in Brazil when, in March, the US government barred entry to anyone from a Schengen country.

"Well, that's my next two trips buggered." I thought to myself

Seattle and Portland in May. Then Atlanta and Nashville for the Home Brewing Conference in June. All scuppered.

By the time I was in Thailand a little later, the whole world was grinding to a halt. Quite worrying when you're in a different continent to your home.

I'm sort of glad the trips were cancelled. Dolores warned me that I was crazy making two trips to different continents in quick succession. She was right. I was totally knacked by the time I arrived, with much relief, home. Despite having spent my time in Thailand just lazing around.

I don't really expect to travel again this year. It's fun to visit new places and I'll miss that. But I'd rather wait until everything is properly sorted before jumping around the globe again.

Three months it is since I last visited a pub. They've been open a couple of weeks here. With distancing rules. Not been tempted, myself. I can wait. It might have been different if they were a bit cheaper. Or offered cask beer.

My social drinking has been limited to a few cans down at the "beach"* with my mate Mikey. At opposite ends of a park bench. All strictly according to the rules.

Can of choice, for me at least, is Gulpener Gladiator, a cheeky little ten percenter. Much loved by street drinkers due to its very reasonable price: 99 cents for a half litre. Cheaper than that, when on special offer. Less expensive and better tasting than Grolsch Het Canon. Biggest problem is finding the stuff. The shelf in the local supermarket is empty more often than it's full.

The Home Brewing Conference is sort of going ahead and I will be speaking. Just all virtually, meaning I miss out on the free beer. And getting to chat to loads of people, obviously. I'll be on at 11 AM (mountain time) talking about Brettanomyces in British Brewing.


* Westlandgracht.

Random Dutch beers (part 53)

Time to finally drink some of those Bokbiers cluttering up my living room floor.

The people behind this Bok, are based close to here. Not sure where it's brewed, mind.

Two Chefs Brewing Billy Biscuit, 7.2% ABV, 46 EBC, 38 IBU)
A fairly pale red--brown, smells like caramel. bittersweet in the gob. Quite malty. Bitter at the end. Sorry for the brevity. At that beer competition in Chile we had to write loads. I'm all worded out when it comes to describing beer.

Let's see if Andrew can do any better.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

"Let me finish this email first."

It's something to do with his course. The university seems very poorly organised.

"It isn't bad. It isn't something you'd want to drink pint after pint, but it's OK."

Praise indeed. Nice reference to session drinking of pints. I've raised him well.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"I'm busy. . . . . I'll try it later."

After Dolores has finished cooking Andrew's tea. Andrew, the 21-year-old who's supposedly moved out. She's a mug when it comes to the kids.

"Mm, it's OK-ish, I suppose."

It is a bit medicinally bitter, now I come to think about it.

Alexei has just come in.

"I've got dogshit on my shoe, Mama."

Great.

I bought a pie in Amstelveen this afternoon. From a place that sells these little coconut things. Where suddenly a heated display of pies has appeared. South African themed. I don't care. They look like pies. I went for steak. Seemed a safe bet.

"Dad, it's not bad." says Alexei.

Dolores: "The pastry is good and there's proper meat."

Andrew: "How much was it, Dad?"

"Four euros fifty"

Andrew and Dolores: "What!" Steak and pastry fly across the room as they gasp in horror

Dolores: "That wouldn't cost more than two quid in Britain."

Alexei: "About 1.75 in euros, then."

Random Dutch beers (part 52)

Apologies for the long gaps between posts in this series. I generally write them at the weekend and I haven't been home that much recently.

I'm making an effort to tidy up my corner of the living room. The books have pretty well all been moved upstairs to my new library/study room. they aren't quite all arranged as I'd like. But at least they're upstairs.

I also need to tackle the beer pile on the living room floor. There must be a hundred bottles. Including a load of this season's Bokbiers. I really need to taste them. Time to crack one open.

Cornelis Herfstbok, 6.5% ABV
It's a slightly muddy grown colour. That's my fault. I didn't realise it was bottle-conditioned. The aroma is malty caramel. Like treacle toffe, but without the treacle. In the mouth, it's fairly neutral, creamy, with the faintest hint of bitterness at the end. And a touch of metal. It's not horrible, at least. And there are no obvious faults.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"In a minute." She's fiddling with something in the kitchem

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

"No thank you."

Dolores gives my beer a try. "Mmm, that's OK. Not something I'd choose, but OK."

"Do you want to try my beer, Alexei?"

"No thanks."

I shouldn't have bought all those cans of Grolsch yesterday. No need for them to bother with my stuff.

Time for another Bok. This time from a big Lager brewery.

Bavaria Bokbier, 6.5% ABV
I'll be honest, there are two reasons I bought this beer. I really like the label and it was dirt cheap: 2.75 euros for six 30cl bottles. I'm not usually keen on Bavaria's beers. Slightly caramelly aroma.  Quite sweet in the mouth, but also quite bland. Not as nasty or as ridiculously sweet as I expected.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"It's very sweet, isn't it?"

"I was worried it would be sweeter. It's good for cooking with. It's in the gravy."

Random Dutch beers (part 51)

It's that time of year again - Bokbier season! When I can gorge myself on cheap Amstel Bock.

There are two reasons I drink Amstel Bock. It's cheap. (Very good value at 60 cents for 30 cl. As it's a 7% ABV beer.) And I don't want them to stop making it, as it's a great example of the style. Tasty, I almost forgot that. Drinkable, that too. Make that four reasons, in no particular order. Apart from cheap.

Dolores returned from the supermarket the other day with a veritable bounty of Boks. More than I can be arsed to count at the moment. Time for me to return to my sketches.

Brouwerij 't Ij Ijbok 6.5% ABV
That doesn't smell wonderful. Coriander and cabbage. I've come across that in Ij beers before. Caramel and coffee are sparring in the mouth with the coriander/cabbage thing going on, finishing wioth a smoky bitterness. Something not right here.

"Do you want to try my beer, Lexxie?"

"Nah, I'm OK."


He changes his mind.

"OK, let me try it." Sips. "It's OK. Easy to drink I guess."

Looks over my shoulder.

"What's that with the double X in my name. You're not spelling it right. There's only one x. And the letters aren't in the right order."

"No, that's the way I spell it Lexxxxxie."

"Stop it, dad. You're really annoying, you know."

Pause.

"Write 'Bush did it', dad."

"Did what?"

"The Vegas attacks."

"Lexxie. I can't write that. Just think of all the crazies it might attract."

"Exactly, dad."

Let's Brew - 1956 Amstel Oud Bruin

I can guarantee you that no-one you know has ever brewed a Dutch-style Oud Bruin. Because it’s one of the world’s most obscure beer styles. And one that the style guideline writers haven’t noticed.

That said, it’s not the world’s most inspiring style. On my first trip to Holland, I can remember getting all excited in a Deventer bar when the barman told me that, in addition to the standard draught Pils, they also had a bottled dark beer. It looked the part in the glass, but I was horrified when I tasted it: thin and gum-achingly sweet.

I’m not really selling the style, am I? It doesn’t have a long history. Though there was a style of beer called Oud Bruin that went back centuries (and which was closer to the Belgian style) , this type was only invented in the 1930’s. Supposedly by northern Lager brewers who wanted to wean drinkers in the south of Holland off the sweet, dark, top-fermenting beers still brewed down their way.

Several Lager brewers still produce Oud Bruin, but only in tiny quantities. When I wanted to buy some (for scientific purposes) the only one I could find was Heineken. I’ve heard rumours that some breweries just water down, colour and sweeten their Pils to make it, rather than brewing it from scratch.

Surprisingly, it’s one the bitterest Amstel beers.

1956 Amstel Oud Bruin
lager malt	6.75 lb	89.46%
black malt	0.125 lb	1.66%
Candi sugar dark 275 SRM	0.67 lb	8.88%
Hallertau 90 mins	0.50 oz
Hallertau 60 mins	0.50 oz
Hallertau 30 mins	0.50 oz
OG	1034
FG	1010
ABV	3.18
Apparent attenuation	70.59%
IBU	21
SRM	18
Mash double decoction
Boil time	90 minutes
pitching temp	43º F
Yeast	WLP830 German Lager

The most awesomely unexpected labels ever

Not really. Just a random collection of stuff. Apologies for the artifice.

Blame my family. And the fact I quite like them. Spending time with them is fun. Whatever they might think.  If I want the kids to remember who I am, best I don't spend every minute at home chained to my computer.

Drinking another floor beer. Makes me feel good in so many ways. The obvious one, plus helping tidy the house.

As you can see, I'm pretty eclectic in my taste, drinking both old school and new school beer. And why not? I even drink some Heineken products. Why? Because I like them, simple as that. I've lost pretty much any snobbiness I have had about beer. I'll even drink evil keg, if I have to.

I love it the way a couple of the kabels specifically say "craft beer". Whatever that might actually mean. Probably just that it's double the price of an "ordinary" beer.

Poesiat & Kater

New breweries are springing up in Amsterdam like overpriced coffee shops after a hipster shower. I’m struggling to keep up. Ask me “How many breweries are there in Amsterdam?” and I’d almost certainly give the wrong answer.

Dolores sent me an article from the local evening paper about the latest, Poesiat & Kater, on Friday.

“Do you fancy going there tomorrow, Dolores?”

“Can do. As long as it’s fairly early.”

The brewery has an interesting story. De Gekroonde Valk was one of the city’s largest and best known breweries, before the establishment of modern Lager breweries around 1870, which pushed the old top-fermenting breweries into the background. Their most famous product was Van Vollenhowen’s Stout. A beer that even survived the takeover and closure of the brewery by Heineken in the 1940’s.

Surprisingly, Heineken continued to brew Van Vollenhoven’s Stout into the new millennium, but eventually just weren’t selling enough and dropped it. But that wasn’t the end of the story. The Gekroonde Valk association had the recipe and got permission from Heineken, which retained rights to the name, got permission to have it brewed under contract in 2006. In 2014 a decision was made to build their own brewery, resulting in Poesiat & Kater.

Where does that odd name come from? It’s named after two 19th-century workers at De Gekroonde Valk, master carpenter Bart Poesiat and master mason Klaas Kater. I’d have gone with De Gekroonde Valk, personally.

“What’s the easiest way to get there, Ronald?”

“The closest tram stop is the no. 9. We could change to the 3 and then get the 9.”

“I’m not changing twice.”

“Then we’ll have to go via Centraal Station.”

With all the horror that involves. Half the tourist hot spots on the way in, the other half on the way out. Did I mention I try to keep the hell out of the city centre as much as possible? It’s beyond unbearable. It’s even spreading out as far as here. Yesterday there were four people with trolley bags hanging around outside the local Dirk’s supermarket. Obviously Airbnbers. They hadn’t even taken the Easyjet tags off their bags. Bastards.

It’s a long and slightly irritating tram ride out to the East. The brewery is on the Oostergasfabriek site. Annoyingly, right around the back of it. Getting there isn’t the most pleasant of walks.
The street is called Polderweg, which sounds idyllic. Reality is more prosaic. On the left is the long slab of the Montessori College, to the right a hotchpotch of quite tall and totally bland flats. Combined, they form a lovely wind tunnel. It’s physically hard to keep moving forwards. Dolores is impressed.

The brewery is in one of the few old buildings left on the site. A typical late 19th-century industrial job. Inside it’s basically one big room, from floor to roof. A bit Spartan, though it has only just opened.

“The kids would have loved it here when they were younger.” Dolores says, pointing at the main railway line running just outside. She‘s right. It would have been the perfect destination for them. It’s just 10 or 15 years too late. Typical.

The waiting staff look very young. Probably still at college. A very friendly and enthusiastic girl comes to take our order. I’m excited to spot an obscure old Dutch style.

“I’ll have a Princesse Bier.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t have that one yet.”

“OK, an East Indies Pale Ale.”

“Sorry, we don’t have that one, either.”

This isn’t going well. I want to save the Van Vollenhoven’s Stout for later. Assuming they have it.

“What about the Pale Ale. Do you have that?”

“Yes.”

Dolores takes one as well. She would have preferred a wheat beer. But the one they have is a Gose.

What is it with Gose all of a sudden? Every fucker is brewing one. Mostly with only the vaguest of resemblance to the original style. What’s makes it even worse, is that I’m partly to blame. Or am I being too egotistical?

When I first wrote about Gose, it was incredibly obscure. I spent years hunting the style down. Eventually finding it was such a thrill. Now they’re selling something called Gose on every street corner.

A boy who looks about twelve, brings our drinks. Luckily, the Pale Ale isn’t too bitter. Otherwise I’d be getting grief from Dolores.

While not full, there are a fair few punters in. Mostly families with small kids. I hate the selfish type of bastard that drags their kids to the pub and gets pissed while they run amok. Luckily, the parents in today aren’t the same sort of inconsiderate twat I was when my kids were small. I was young back then, that’s my excuse.

Dolores returns from "the place".

"I couldn't work out which was the ladies. There was nothing on the doors. I went through the one that was open. It was all boxes inside. Maybe it was one of those modern unisex toilets."

When downstairs calls, I head upstairs to the bogs myself. Two unmarked doors, indeed. The urinals I discover behind the closed one tip me off that I've correctly chosen the gents.

While I'm washing my hands - I'm shocked how many blokes can't be arsed after pissing - I hear someone outside struggling to work out which toilets are which.

Challeneged to see if there is any indication, I have a good look on exiting. And eventually spot it. Not on the doors, but in the floor tiles.

I have the Stout for my second beer. The waiter is only looking about ten when he brings it over. I’m surprised that he isn’t distracted by the trains whizzing past outside.

The Stout is pretty good. All dark chocolate in the mouth with a little sweetness lurking below the surface and a shot of bitterness at the end. I’d drink it again. I do drink it again, as I order a second.

Dolores wants to take a different route back, She enjoyed the walk that much. If we duck under the railway line, we can walk to Station Muiderpoort, where the no. 3 tram terminates. Meaning we can return home with one change dodging the centre. Which is exactly what we do.






Poesiat & Kater
Polderweg 648
1093 KP Amsterdam.
email: info@poesiatenkater.nl
Tel: 020-3331050
https://poesiatenkater.nl

Opening times:
Mon - Fri: 11:00 - 01:00 uur
Sat and Sun: 10:00 - 01:00 uur

A day in Noord Brabant (part three)

The weather has turned for the worse. Rain is coming down at a slightly higher rate than a refreshing drizzle.

We don’t have a printed map because we (well, Dolores, really) only decided on this leg of the trip this morning. Luckily the begijnhof isn’t far from the station. Though we do walk all the way around it before finding the entrance.

It’s a pretty little kitchen garden surrounded by tiny houses. They can’t be very deep because the backs, which face the outside world, have to windows. It’s pretty quiet. Just as and a couple of elderly couples.

“If this were Amsterdam, it would be full of effing terrorists.”

“Don’t swear, Ronald.”

“It’s true, though.”

The town itself is much quieter than Tilburg. It’s a smaller place and it is getting on for 5 PM. Dolores is pleased that there’s some old stuff to look at. Like the stone church. Not that such things detain us for long. The rain is getting worse and there’s a pub to visit.

I noticed when looking for the location of the Begijnhof this morning that De Beyerd, Breda’s principal beer pub, was just around the corner. Seems silly not to drop by. Especially as it now has a brewery.

It’s only a few minutes’ walk. Unfortunately it’s mobbed inside. Must be why it’s so quiet on the street. Everyone is in here. But there is room outside. A garrulous, large man invites us to sit at the table with him and has wife to make sure that we’re under the umbrella and out of the rain. They’re a contrasting pair, him large and talky, her small and quiet. It seems to work.

When we’ve finally managed to order and our drinks are coming, the waiter manages to spill one of our beers all over the women who have just sat at the next table. Luckily the beer misses us.

“He did exactly the same thing when he brought our drinks.” Mr. chatty says, pointing to the damp stains on his wife’s kecks. She just smiles shyly.

The beer the waiter threw all over the poor ladies is Drie Hoefijzers Klassiek. Drie Hoefijzers was the name of a big Lager brewery in Breda which, as part of Oranjeboom, was bought and closed by Inbev. In the later years of operation, they'd introduced a top-fermenting beer called Drie Hoefijzers Klassiek. After the brewery closed, De Beyerd got the rights to use the name and brew several beers under the Drie Hoefijzers brand.

Klassiek is pleasant, but restrained beer. Not one for the geeks, but a nice drinking beer.

We only stay for the one, as it’s getting late. Back at Doom headquarters, when we finally find our way to the platforms, we realise that the service we planned taking to Amsterdam is messed up because of a technical problem. So we go back the way we came, via Tilburg and Den Bosch.

Safely settled on the train, I pull out the spare can of Heineken I bought this morning.

“That’ my emergency pint.”

“I wondered why you don’t go into the shop at the station.”

It lasts me nicely back to Amsterdam.




De Beyerd  
Boschstraat 26,
4811 GH Breda.
Tel: 076 521 4265
http://www.beyerd.nl/

Random Dutch beers (part forty-nine)

Just time for a couple more sketches of Dutch beers before the end of the year.

Oddly, both Boks. I stumbled on a couple I hadn't tried this year yet in local supermarket Deen. Odd, because it's really past the end of Bokbier season.

I'm starting with something even odder: a genuine Trappist Bok:

La Trappe Trappist Bockbier, 7% ABV (€1.00 for 30 cl at Deen)
It's a typical red-brown colour, but a little murky. My fault. I forgot it was bottle-conditioned when pouring. My tasting notes are going to be crap, seeing as I have a cold and my nose is pretty blocked. Is that cream and caramel in the aroma? There's something sweetish lurking there. It's quite sweet in the mouth, but with a balancing bitterness. Like raisins dipped in dark chocolate, then liquidised. In a good way.

"Do you want to try my beer, Lexxie?"

"No. Can I drink my Smirnoff Ice now?"

"I suppose so."

It's the last day of the year. Not sure if that's a reason for sadness or joy. I guess I should be optimistic. First obective for 2017 is finishing my book on Scottish beer. The manuscript is about half done. And about three-quarters of the recipes - 240 so far. Which reminds me: I should be writing some now. See you in a while.

. . . . .


Just polished off two more recipes. Time for my reward.

Gulpener Herfstbock, 6.5% ABV (€0.96 for 30 cl at Deen)
Quite pale this one, more red than brown. The decongestants have kicked in so I've a bit more sense of smell. Aroma of sweet red cherries, though not quite maraschino. Quite sweet and fruity in the mouth, like a cheap whore.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"No, not now."

 What? It's after 1 PM.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

"No."

Not doing very well for second opinions today.

Random Dutch beers (part forty-six)

More Boks. I've still quite a few to work through.

First is an old favourite:

't Ij Ijbok, 6.5% ABV
it's a pretty paler shade of brown. Smells of metal and cream. Al least what litttle I can smell through my clogged up nose. Got a bit of a cold thing going on. Liquorice and metal in the mouth.

My brother David is visiting.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dave?"

"No, I don't need any beer yet."

"But it's almost 1 pm."

He's turned into a right miserable old git.

Next is another from the same brewery.

Ij Dubbelbock, 8.8% ABV
Unsurprisingly, this one is darker. A very dark brown with a tan head. It looks lovely. I can't really smell anything. Not so much my blocked nose as the smell of Dolores cooking my birthday cake overwhelming the beer aroma. Pretty sweet in the mouth and bitter in the finish. Bit too sweet for my taste.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dave?"

"Chewy."

Nice and succinct.

Random Dutch beers (part forty-five)

More Dutch Boks. Not sure how much fun it will be this time, as it's a couple of industrial jobs.

It's been a much quieter week. And this is my second weekend in a row with no travel time to relax. In a beery sort of way.

Despite the name, this is probably brewed at Dommelsch. My joint least-favourite Dutch brewery along with Bavaria.

Hertog Jan Bokbier, 6.5% ABV
It looks the part with a very dark brown colour. Quite an unusual aroma. Which fruit is that? Cherries. Artifical cherry flavour. In the mouth it's sweet and thin, with no discernable bitterness. It's amazing how you can make a beer of 6.5% this blad. It tastes like watered-down cherryade. How bizarre. Not undrinkable, as I'd feared. I've had some real stinkers from Dommelsch in the past.

Both the kids are up and it's only just after 1 PM.

"Do you want to try my beer, Lexie?"

"What is it?"

"Hertog Jan Bokbier."

"Hm."

"What do you think?"

"I don't know. It tastes like it comes out of a barrel."

"Why do you say that?"

"It's a bit woody, sort of. It tastes like the beer they throw into gravy.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"Mmm. It's OK."

It's now Sunday and thebeef joint I picked up in Margate is roaasting in the oven. Even Andrew is back from his mate's. Not looking that lively, mind. And very grey. I can't understand the way these young kids drink to excess. You'd never catch me doing that.

I approach the next Bok with some trepidation. Because despite it being the best-selling Bok, it isn't to my taste.

Grolsch Herfst Bok, 6.5% ABV
I grabbed it in Dirk's yesterday. It can't have cost that much, but I don't remember exactly. Smells of sugar and metal. Really sweet in the mouth, ending with a weird metallic sugariness. Like licking sugar off a cast-iron frying pan. And not in a good way.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"Mm. It's nice that one. Very sweet, but not nasty. Which one is it?"

"Grolsch."

"It's not as horrible as most of the beers you have me try."

Random Dutch beers (part forty-four)

I've promised Dolores I'm going to clear the living room floor. Time to tackle some more of the Boks cluttering it up.

Starting with new/old brewer De Leckere:

De Leckere Rode Toren, 6.5% ABV
I think this is the first normal strength Bok I've had this year. All the others have been dubbels. This is another relatively pale job. Just about brown rather than amber. It smells malty and creamy. Wow, this is low-quality stuff. You should try wacking out beer desriptions. Three beers in and the cliches roll like good times. It's inoffensively malty in the mouth, not too sweet, the tiniest drop of balancing bitterness. Very old school again and very drinkable.

Today I'm cooking my first Sunday lunch in what seems like several months. Not a roast, for once, but some lamb steaks we picked up in Edinburgh earlier this week. September was a very busy month. Lots of travelling. Some very fun stuff, but I'm ready for a break.

And ready for another Bok. One of my all-time favourites:

SNAB Ijsbok, 9% ABV
This is a properly dark one, verging on black. It smells of metal, malt and something else starting with the letter "M" I can't quite put my finger. It's rich and warming in the mouth, with as much liquorice as a packet of Basset's. Very nice. Perfect to set me up for cooking dinner.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"Not really."

"Go on."

"It's probably really horrible. Let Andrew try it."

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

"OK."

"What do you think."

"It's a bit watery, Dad."

"It's 9% ABV."

"I still find the flavour watery."

Random Dutch beers (part forty-three)

"Can I have twenty euros, dad?"

Andrew's quick this morning. I hadn't even cracked open a beer and he's already asking for money. At least he was up before noon. That's a novelty nowadays.

More Boks, starting with an old favourite:

Brand Dubbel Bock, 7.5% ABV
It's paler than I recall, a pale red-brown. Looks quite pretty in the glass, though. It has a sweet, caramelly-malt aroma, like walking past a toffee shop. Sweet malt is dominant in the mouth, too, with just a hint of bitterness. Pretty old school and pretty nice, The way most Dutch Bok used to taste.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

"No." He replies unenthusiastically.

It's been a productive weekend so far. (The first I've spent at home for a month. Luckily, I've no travel planned for the next few weeks. I can really do with a rest.) I scanned the set of 300 DDR labels I recently bought. Just the set of 450 to go. Got a couple of blog posts written, too.

Next, another Bok from an established brewery, Jopen.

Jopen Johanniter Weizen Duppelbok, 9% ABV
Seem to be a lot of strong Boks this year. Smells of raisins and booze, like a rich christmas cake. Plus a bit of bubblegum. I guess that's the wheat bit. Tastes like smoked toffe in the mouth. Not much wheat-like flavour here. Bit thin, if anything, for the strength. Not as good as Aventinus - but what is? A decent enough beer.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

No reply.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

No reply.

Not surprising, really, as he's gone upstairs with a brace of sausage rolls. No need to hang around downstairs now he's got his dosh. He's dead bad value for money, really.

Random Dutch beers (part forty-two)

Blow me if it isn't Bokbier season again. Time to try some of this year's examples.

Though I won't be trying to sample them all as I did a couple of times. Back in the days when I was younger, more enthusiastic and there weren't so many damn breweries in Holland. I'd be here until January trying to get through them all.

First one from an older outfit:

Christoffel Bock, 7.8% ABV (€2.40 for 33 cl from Ton Overmars)
Pretty damn dark. Verging on black. A rather metallic smell. Like cream sprinkled with iron filings. But slightly more appetising. Bittersweet in the mouth. Maybe a bit excessively so. They're having a right set to over my tongue. I think Bitter just has the edge. He's knocked Sweet down and there's a trickle of blood coming from his nose.Quite a pleasant beer, despite the fisticuffs.

"Andrew, do you want to try my beer?"

"No thank you, my stomach doesn't feel too great."

Let's try another one. This time for highly regarded Kees.

Indian Summer Doppelbock, 8.5% ABV (€3.20 for 33 cl from Ton Overmars)
Dark brown, but not as dark as the last beer. You can still see some red highlights. The head has a lovely whipped cream quality, but in colour and texture. The aroma is smoke, hop and metal. like eating bacon from a fork where the plating has worn off. Lots more smoke in the mouth which almost, but not quite, covers the background bitterness. Not sure what's being attempted here. Maybe something along the lines of Schlenkerla. A bit of a battle going on between the different elemnts. Maybe it will mellow with age.

"Andrew, do you want to try my beer?"

"OK," he says very hesitantly."

He looks dubiously at the glass and takes a sip.

"It's drinkable, but I wouldn't drink it."

Not exactly a ringing endorsement.

Random Dutch beers (part forty-one)

You'll live to regret encouraging to write more of this drivel. The three or four of you who said they liked these sketches, that is.

It's Sunday again. It's been another busy weekend. Yesrerday I scanned my magazine entries for the British Guild of Beer Writers awards. This morning I packaged them into pdf files and sent then off. I'll probably end up empty handed again, but I don't enter there's no way I'll win.

I checked out a new pub, Tap Zuid, yesterday with Mikey. It started slightly chaotically with Mikey waiting for me in the wrong pub. All turned out well in the end.

Time for a beer. I really need to drink some beer. No, I really do. Dolores is getting pissed off with the area of living room floor.

"Don't buy any more beer, Ronald." she said when I went to take the empties back to Ton Overmars yesterday. I only got one bag of Abt rather than two. That's none as far as I'm concerned.

First beer of the day is from Kompaan, a highly-respected outfit from Den Haag.

Kompaan India Pale Lager 5.7% ABV
I didn't expct that. It's a deep copper colour. I'd expect a Pale Lager to be, er, paler. Bready aroma, with no trace of hops. Bloody hell that's bitter. Wasn't expecting that from the nose. Not particularly aromatic, more straight-on bitterness. Nothing very Lagery about it that I can tell. Pleasant enough, but a bit too bitter to drink a gallon of. Pretty sure Dolored won't like it.

"Dolores, do you want to try my beer?"

"No."

Not much wiggle room there.

It's now Friday. Been a busy week, as ever. Off to Chicago tomorrow. Luckily no work today. Just written a post about Tetley. Time for a beer.

It's one from highly-respected Emelisse.

Emelisse TIPA, 10% ABV
Nice copper colour and a soapy head. Pleasantly malty aroma, not the dominated as I'd expected. So good so far. Quite bitter, not not aromatically hoppy. And with plenty of malty goodness backing it up. Rather nice really. And full of alcoholy goodness. It's a non-lose, non-lose.

"Dolores, do you want to try my beer?"

"Dolores, do you want to try my beer?"

I remember. She's still at work.

"Andrew, do you want to try my beer?"

"Andrew, do you want to try my beer?"

I remember. He's just left to see his mate. You'll just have to make do with my bollocks.

Random Dutch beers (part forty)

It's just after noon on Sunday, the joint is in the oven, and it's been pissing it down since I got up.

I'm glad the weather was better yesterday. We were at Butcher's Tears for their third anniversary. It was totally mobbed so most people had to stand outside. At least the queues meant I couldn't drink too quickly.

Dolores was happy as they had Green Cap on tap. She's rather partial to it but isn't as keen on the bottled version. We'll be back there this afternoon. Assuming it stops pissing it down.

Time for a beer while the meat roasts.

Maximus Tenhop White, 4.8% ABV
"Obnoxious hopped wheat beer" Surely that should obnoxiously? I'm trying not to let it put me off. Smells like rum punch. Just without the overproof. Which is the best bit, really. In the mouth, it tastes like an IPA. I can't really pick out any wheat element underneath the hops. Just another beer with modern hops.

I'm roasting a lump of pork we bought in Berlin. The crackling is coming on a treat. I'm drooling onto the keyboard just thinking about it.

The sun has just come out. Yippee! We won't be getting soaked later.


. . . .


A week has passed. It's a rather unsettled Sunday.Rain, bit of sun. The chicken is in the oven. Time to crack a beer. From one of the favourites of the new Dutch beer scene, Oersep.

Oersoep Hopfather 5% ABV (€2.65 for 33cl from Tom Overmars)
Billed as a hoppy blond. Right colour, for sure. And smells it - another grapefruit job. with an undercurrent of toilet cleaner. Must have one of those trendy modern hops in it. Mosaic, the label says. It's quite tasty, not too heavy and seems well brewed. Nothing I can really fault it on. I'll leave finding fault to Dolores.

"Dolores, do you want to try my beer?"

""It's OK-ish. A bit flat, actually."

"That's my fault, I knocked most of the CO2 out of it."

 

Kimchi Festival 2016

One of my favourite non-beer festival beer festivals recently. The Kimchi Festival. Which has cleverly transformed itself from a food festival with some beer to a beer festival with some food. Seemingly without the outside world noticing.

Man looking at the the Silo, the world's craziest ever club

Which is OK by me, because it keeps the international riff-raff out. You know who I mean. The people who turn up at every geek fest. Not that this isn't a geek fest in a way. just not an international one.

And there are plenty of seats. Something old people like me appreciate. I don't want to spend all day standing up drinking form a plasctic cup. Which brings me to the second cool feature this year: a proper glass glass and only 2 euros for 15 cl. Often closer to 20 cl. That's cheaper than most pubs.

Lovely location on the IJ in a trendy outdoor café. And cheap food. Because we brought our own. I really am gradually transforming into the mean pensioner I'll finish my days as.

Quite a lot of words for what was meant to be a photo essay. So I'm shutting up. And saving my words for next time. They're starting to run low. I can already see the bottom of my word bucket.

 

Random Dutch beers (part thirty-nine)

It's 1 PM, Saturday and sun is shining. Time to hide inside and drink more Dutch beers. It's no wonder I'm such a healthy white colour.

Andrew has already appeared and uttered his standaard: "Can I have 30 euros, Mama?" He got downstairs before I cracked my first beer of the day. Not sure which of us that reflects best on.

Another beer from oldish/new Utrecht brewery, De Leckere:

De Leckere Paulus, 7.5% ABV
I see it's billed as Koyt, a venerable and once extinct Dutch beer style.Looking at the ingredients, I can see they aren't joking: it contains barley, oat and wheat malt. The colour is pale yellow. Which I think is right. Nice orangey, malty aroma. Surprisingly light for the ABV. Not a huge amount of hop presence. Other than that, I'd have mistaken it for a Tripel. A pleasant enough beer.

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"


"No, not right now, Dad"

"It wasn't a question."

He wanders off before I can force him to take a sip. Bastard.

It's been a quieter week, thank Stalin. Though I did assemble a 730 page book. And noticed I had another book I'd never published. I've so many manuscripts, it's difficult to keep track of them all.

Gebrouwen door Vrouwen Tricky Tripel, 7.8% ABV
Mmm Is this the elderflower beer again? Smells like it. No, it's more like coriander. I'll stick with spicy, as a description. Like walking through a sea of grass and then sniffing your kecks. Or something like that. My word mill is all ground out. Let's see if the flavour can get it grinding again. No, hasn't worked. Orange, spice and a warming undercurrent of alcohol. That'll do. The alcohol, I mean, not my rubbish description.

Me and Dolores are off to Butcher's Tears soon. For their third anniversary do. It's perfect. Just around the corner, so no need to brave the tourist hordes in the town centre. Though it's threatening to rain. Bastard weather.

Random Dutch beers (part thirty-eight)

Back again with my bollocky stuff.

I had last weekend, being in Berlin. This time last week I was drinking Czech Lageron Karl-Marx-Allee with Dolores. And eating really nice food. of the chunky, meaty variety, mostly.

Love the Berlin International Beer Festival. The least nerdy beer festival I know. Barely a beard in sight. But loads of 'taches. Some truly horrendous beers. But loads from smallish German and Czech breweries. A rare chance to try dark and semi-dark Lagers.

Cornelia Blond 6.5%, ABV
I got this from Deen, I think. Just after Christmas. Which has me thinking. Yeah, as I thought. Signs of oxidation. I've left it too long. Not fair to give an opinion, as it's clearly seen better days. Like eating the corn flake packet rather than its contents.

That doesn't stop me offering Dolores a try.

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"I just drank some wine. Can I enjoy that first?"

Grudgingly, "I suppose so."

A few minutes later. "Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"It looks like a horrible one.

"It's from Deen."

"OK. Mm. Not too bad. What's that on your shirt? It was clean this morning."

I've been assembling my competition book this weekend. A panic throw-together, rushed out to meet the Beer Hacks' award deadline. This year's will be called Home!. You'll discover why soon.

Oedipus Thai Thai, 8% ABV
An Amsterdam beer. Though, very honestly, the label tells me that it was brewed by Scheldebrouwerij in Belgium. I've drunk this several times before. A Tripel made with Thai spices. Something that could easily be a lorry stuck on a level crossing hit by an airliner. I quite like it. Oddly, I find the result reminiscent of Tripel Karmeliet. That's a compliment.

Talking of Oedipus, I was at another beer festival yeasterday that they host. The Kimchi Festival. It started as a food festival, but has been getting beerier by the year. It's a beer festival* with food now. Mostly local and small. Or very small. Its odd location over the water on the former NDSM shipyard site keeps all but the most informed and determined tourist out.

Excuse me if I go all touristist, but it really is getting beyond a joke in Amsterdam. Send the tourists back to touristonia, I say. Town's full of them, suddenly stopping and standing, walking blindly in front of trams and generally getting in my bloody way. Bastards. And stumbling around, stinking of weed, pissing their kecks. Or was that my visiting friends?

"Do you want to try my beer, Andrew?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I've only just got up."

"That didn't stop me."

"Do you want to try my beer, Dolores?"

"No, it's that horrible one."

"It's a diffferent one. From Oedipus. It has Thai spices in it."

"I wouldn't have said that that. I can't taste them"



* Serving a proper fucking measure this year. In a lined glass. Most were well over the 15 cl line. About 2 cl. For 2 euros a pop. Not bad at all for the 8% ABV and above stuff I was going for.