58. Hook Norton Double Stout

After a hard day patching up potholes on the information superhighway, there isn’t much that can beat putting your feet up with a good bottle of stout. Fortunately, there are an inordinate number of porters and stouts in The Book, so it’s probably time to open another of them.

This is our second beer from Oxfordshire’s Hook Norton Brewery, having tried their Old Hooky a few weeks ago. That was a good beer, but I couldn’t quite place what it was trying to be. There should be no such ambiguity with this, their 4.8% ABV, bottle-conditioned Double Stout.

What is slightly unclear is what the “double” in the name refers to. At just 4.8% we’re clearly not talking in the same terms as a Double IPA, which would typically be, well, double that strength. The bottle loosely implies that it might be to do with the fact that both black and brown malts are used, while The Book declares that it “recalls the period in the 18th and 19th centuries when porters and stouts were labelled X and XX”.

Perhaps we’re splitting hairs: what matters is whether it’s any good.

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Hook Norton Double Stout looks much as a stout should, pouring such a dark brown that it appears black, and with a good frothy tan head. There’s a big, creamy malt nose with both toasty and floral notes that certainly seems promising.

There’s a slightly sharp, hoppy twang that’s front and centre, a nicely rounded body, and a subtly dry finish which manages to be satisfying without being in any way overpowering.

Overall the beer is quite fruity and—dare I say it—delicate for a stout, but served nicely chilled, it’s remarkably knock-backable. I suspect this might be a good stout for those who wouldn’t usually venture quite so far towards the dark side, as it’s a little less challenging than some stouts, whilst remaining a very good example of the style.

After the last couple of beers haven’t quite hit the spot for me, thankfully I’ve very much enjoyed this one. It certainly didn’t hang about long, and I’d happily opt for one of these again, especially if it popped up somewhere on draught.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: The Hook Norton Brewery Co Ltd, Hook Norton, Oxfordshire, England
Style: Porters-and-Stouts
Strength: 4.8% ABV
Found at: Bossman Wines, Lordship Lane, London SE22
Serving: 500ml Bottle

57. Hop Back Summer Lightning

Occasionally you don’t have to go looking for these beers: they come to you.

And so it was when one of my local boozers tweeted that they had just put Hop Back Summer Lightning on the bar.

I didn’t hang about: I developed a taste for Summer Lightning when I first moved to London, about 13 years ago, and I haven’t had it for a very long time. Needless to say, there I was a few hours later. Pint of Summer Lightning please, Zöe.

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Hop Back Summer Lightning is your typical summery Pale Ale, golden in colour, with a smallish white head that fades quite quickly.

It smells of…wait…no, it actually doesn’t smell of anything. I’d better taste it. Nope, still nothing. No hops, no malt, nothing. Maybe a slightly dry, bitter finish if I concentrate really, really hard, but no. In all honesty, there is absolutely no flavour to this beer whatsoever. This is probably the blandest beer I’ve come across since the woeful Du Bocq Blanche de Namur.

Something’s up, but I don’t know what. This is not the beer I know from a decade ago. I would hesitate to blame The Commercial’s (admittedly not always impeccable) cellaring. Maybe it’s the two halfs of the utterly stunning Pizza Port Night Rider imperial stout I had in Brixton earlier numbing the proverbial out of my tastebuds. Maybe Summer Lightning just ain’t what it used to be.

Not a great pint, by any stretch of the imagination, but I don’t want to write this one off. It can’t have fallen this far, can it?

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Hop Back Brewery, Salisbury, Wiltshire, England
Style: Golden Ales
Strength: 5.0% ABV
Found at: The Commercial, Railton Road, London SE24
Serving: Cask, pint

56. Oude Geuze Boon

Here’s another beer that should be a completely new experience for me. Oude Geuze Boon hails from Belgium and is an example of a style of beer known as Gueuze*, itself a sub-type of Lambic, a sour wheat beer synonymous with the town of Lembeek in Belgium.

This is the first time I’ve tried a beer labelled with any of the terms Gueuze, Lambic or “sour” and, truth be told, I’ve had the bottle sitting around for quite some time while I plucked up the courage.

That may be no bad thing, since Lambics are well known for their tendency to improve with age. This one dates from the 2010-11 bottling and sports a “best before” date of early October 2032. You get the feeling the date is only on there at all simply to satisfy an EU bureaucrat somewhere.

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Oude Geuze Boon is presented in a smart 375ml bottle, and is Champagne-corked, to let you know you’re dealing with something a bit grown-up. It pours a typically Belgian and slightly cloudy deep golden colour, and has a tightly frothy white head backed up with a lively fizz.

There’s an immediate and unmistakeable pong of cider, in particular the distinctive sweet-yet-sour stench of the lamentable Scrumpy Jack, which briefly transports me straight back to memories of the early 90s.

At the risk of stating the obvious, the beer tastes sour, but unfortunately, aside from a fairly standard Belgian ale hiding in there somewhere, there isn’t really much more to it than that. As with Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier, it’s hard to taste anything beyond the main gimmick of the beer, and as with the Rauchbier, I soon wish the bottle were smaller.

I fully accept that a lot of that will be down to my own inexperience with the style: these kinds of beers are quite literally an acquired taste, though I don’t foresee myself drinking enough of the stuff in future to acquire it. That said, there are a few more in The Book which I’ll have to wade through at some point.

Of course, at a mere three years old, this bottle has a lot of growing up to do, so it would also be fascinating to see what 20 years or so worth of cellaring would do for a beer like this.

All in all then, this is not to my taste by any means, but I’m glad I finally tried it.

* If it appears that I’m spelling things inconsistently here, my justification is that “Gueuze” is the name of the beer style as given in The Book, and on Wikipedia, while “Geuze” is the spelling used in the name of this particular beer, as seen on the label.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Brouwerij Boon nv, Lembeek, Belgium
Style: Lambic and Gueuze
Strength: 7.0% ABV
Found at: Utobeer, Borough Market, London SE1
Serving: 375ml bottle

55. Shepherd Neame Master Brew

This is another beer that I’ve had sitting around for a while, and never quite got round to trying. With some of the amazing beers that small London breweries like Beavertown and The Kernel have been putting out recently, it has been difficult to summon up much enthusiasm for a 4.0% English Bitter from the corner shop.

Of course, that sort of lackadaisical approach to the 300 Beers project isn’t going to have the thing finished any time soon, so let’s crack this one open and see what I’ve been missing out on.

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Well, Shepherd Neame Master Brew is certainly a fine looking beer, pouring an inviting deep bronze colour with a generous off-white head. The aroma is remarkably malty, with delicate hops and the faintest hint of the distinctive smell of a beer that’s been sat in a colourless glass bottle for slightly too long. That’s entirely my fault, rather than the beer’s, of course.

And it tastes…absolutely terrific. I’m taken aback, as if I’ve learned nothing from my expectations turning out to be entirely misguided countless times already. Master Brew is full of biscuity malts and peppery English hops, and there’s an underlying toffee and dried fruit sweetness that’s the signature of a good Bitter.

Those toffee and fruit notes remind me of the last Shepherd Neame beer we saw, Bishop’s Finger and also Fuller’s ESB, though Master Brew is much lighter and more floral than both of those.

At a fairly tame 4.0% ABV, this one would be eminently sessionable too, and I suspect it has the potential to be absolutely wonderful on cask if kept and served well. I also discovered by accident that it pairs surprisingly well with cheeses such as Camembert, and no doubt other food too.

Good stuff from Shepherd Neame once again.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Shepherd Neame, Faversham, Kent, England
Style: Bitters
Strength: 4.0% ABV
Found at: Maxy Supermarket, Norwood Road, London SE24
Serving: 500ml Bottle

54. Kelpie Seaweed Ale

Jonathan Swift famously and quite rightly observed that “It was a bold man that first ate an oyster”. One might say the same about the person who, on happening upon the bladderwrack seaweed, no doubt during a leisurely stroll along a near-tropical Scottish beach, thought to themself “you know, I reckon this would taste pretty good if I put it in my beer”.

Yes, this is an ale brewed with seaweed, “Kelpie” being the Gaelic word for that most improbable of beer ingredients. Kelpie Ale is brewed by Williams Brothers Brewery, the same chaps who recently brought us Fraoch Heather Ale, an altogether less ill-advised concept.

It has taken me a little while to pluck up the courage to crack this one open, but the 300 Beers project is a relentless mistress, and so the time has come.

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Kelpie Ale pours an especially dark ruby colour, and in fact is almost black in bad light. It has a very distinctive nose reminiscent of a strong stout, with quite pronounced Scotch whisky notes. In that regard I’m reminded of Harviestoun’s Ola Dubh, a strong porter aged in whisky barrels.

To taste, Kelpie is again distinctive. It’s very fruity and tangy, with a vinous edge and perhaps the faintest touch of saltiness. It’s also slightly smoky, so there really are a lot of different flavours vying for attention

That smokiness further reminds me of a stout, as does the beer’s remarkably full body. Whilst I can’t detect any flavours that I can definitively identify as seaweed, there is a slightly gelatinous texture to the beer, which could simply be my imagination playing tricks on me, but it does call to mind the rubberiness of freshly beached bladderwrack seaweed.

All in all, this is an interesting beer. As with the brewery’s heather ale, whilst I can’t see it becoming a regular tipple, I’m glad I’ve tried it.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Williams Brothers Brewing Co, Alloa, Scotland
Style: Beers made with Fruit, Spices, Herbs and Seeds
Strength: 4.4% ABV
Found at: Utobeer, Borough Market, London SE1
Serving: 500ml Bottle

53. Pitfield Shoreditch Stout

This is the first beer I’ve ever tried from the Pitfield Brewery, and until today I knew very little about them. In fact, I still know very little other than they are a small, independent brewery with a complicated history.

Founded in the cellar of a specialist beer shop in Pitfield Street in Shoreditch, London, the brewery is now based on a farm in the Essex countryside, having changed location and ownership several times over its 30-year existence.

The core beers in Pitfield’s range are all certified organic and vegan, but are otherwise a fairly traditional-looking selection of pale ales, IPAs, porters and stouts. The naming of the Shoreditch Stout harks back to the brewery’s geographical roots, and conveniently I didn’t have to travel to Essex to find it: instead all that was required was a ten-minute stroll from the office to Old Street in—appropriately enough—Shoreditch.

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Pitfield Shoreditch Stout pours a deep blackish brown colour, as befits a stout, and there’s a generous tan lacing and a promising smoky aroma. It’s remarkably malty and full of date, fig and other dried fruit flavours topped off with a dry, bitter and slightly salty finish.

This one is a little lighter-bodied than might be expected from a truly top-notch stout, but it’s far from watery. It’s very drinkable, and at a restrained 4.0% ABV it’s eminently sessionable.

I may be a little spoilt in the stout department, having easy access to the Kernel Brewery and their magnificent Export and Imperial Brown stouts, but I do feel the Shoreditch Stout struggles to really distinguish itself from many other half-decent stouts. That said, if the vegan/organic thing is up your street then this is probably one of your better options.

There are two more Pitfield beers in The Book: a London Porter and an Imperial Stout. I’ve yet to find a source for the latter, but I certainly look forward to tracking it down and seeing how it compares to this one.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Dominion Brewery Co, Moreton, Essex, England
Style: Porters and Stouts
Strength: 4.0% ABV
Found at: City Beverage Company, Old Street, London EC1
Serving: 500ml Bottle

52. Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier

Every so often, along comes a beer that takes me far outside my comfort zone. This is just such a beer, and I have very little idea what to expect.

Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier hails from Bavaria, Germany and is a smoked beer. Smoked beers are made much like any other, except that the barley malt is infused with smoke from wood fires prior to mashing.

I’ve very little experience with this style of beer, beyond having once accidentally ordered a pint of Anarchy’s Smoke Bomb, which was so over the top as to be rather charming, and Beavertown’s much more subtle, and remarkably smooth, Smog Rocket.

Let’s see how this rather authentic looking beer compares to those two upstarts.

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On cracking open the bottle, there’s an instant, ominous smoky aroma, and I’m reminded strongly of Lapsang Souchong tea. The beer pours a sinister and not entirely appetising dark greyish brown colour.

It tastes absolutely awful, of course. The use of smoke is in no way restrained, providing an unpleasantly bitter taste that sticks in your mouth and nose for hours afterwards. You can’t taste the underlying beer, as its flavour is completely obscured by the smoke. Apparently this one started life as a Märzen, but there’s no way of knowing that without reading the label.

The experience is reminiscent of sucking on charcoal or a burnt log, which is not my idea of a good time. The brewers have tried to tame the smokiness a little by upping the sweetness, but it just muddies the flavours and makes the beer sickly and cloying.

I’m sure there’s a lot of love and craft goes into Aecht Schlenkerla Rauchbier, and the brewers are no doubt extremely proud of it, but it isn’t to my tastes. To be frank, if it weren’t for my dedication to the 300 Beers challenge, and to both of my readers, this one would be going down the sink.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Brauerei Schlenkerla, Bamberg, Germany
Style: Smoked Beer
Strength: 5.1% ABV
Found at: Utobeer, Borough Market, London SE1
Serving: 500ml Bottle

51. Goose Island Honker’s Ale

It’s always interesting to experience American attempts to replicate classic British beer styles. This time we’ll be trying Chicago-based Goose Island Brewery’s interpretation of a Best Bitter.

I wasn’t entirely convinced by Goose Island’s IPA when I reviewed it a few weeks ago, finding it far too sweet and cloying. Let’s see how their endearingly-named Honker’s Ale compares.

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Goose Island Honker’s Ale pours a lovely warm bronze colour with a generous off-white head, and there’s an enticingly fragrant malty aroma.

The beer is very full-bodied, and packed full of flavour: there are big biscuity malts, tart fruit and an intriguing marzipan note.

Unfortunately, that sweetness that plagued the IPA is back. Although Honker’s Ale isn’t quite as tooth-janglingly sugary as the IPA, it’s still too sweet. Bitter is named that way for a reason, and while there is a bitter finish here, it’s well hidden under a coating of sugar.

This is a genuinely good beer that’s let down by what seems to be a pandering to the American palate. That’s a real shame, because I’m sure that the kind of drinkers that would buy Goose Island’s beers have far more sophisticated tastes than mainstream beer swillers.

Maybe I’m wrong—Goose Island are currently owned by Anheuser-Busch InBev, the giant international corporation responsible for Budweiser, Stella Artois and Corona, after all—but I don’t think so.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Goose Island Beer Co., Chicago, IL
Style: Best Bitters
Strength: 4.3% ABV
Found at: Bossman Wines, Lordship Lane, London SE22
Serving: 355ml Bottle

50. Saison Dupont

Reaching the minor landmark of Beer Number 50 seems like a good excuse to crack open something special, or at least a little bit different. To celebrate, I’ve plumped for a beer that I’ve been eyeing up for a little while: Saison Dupont.

Saison is a particular style of beer originating from Belgium—where else—where, in a refreshing deviation from the usual narrative, it was traditionally brewed not by monks, but by farmers. Saison was originally a relatively weak beer, designed to hydrate and fortify the farm workers at a time when there was no reliable source of untainted drinking water—hops and alcohol forming a particularly successful preservative partnership.

In that regard, Saison echoes the “small beer” that kept Britain alive through the centuries when cholera would take your first born as soon as look at you, and which was even issued to schoolchildren at morning break until mediaeval Tory cuts took hold, probably.

Anyway, this is only the second Saison I’ve ever tried, after London-based Beavertown’s experimental Saison 34 a few weeks ago. With the greatest of respect to Beavertown, Dupont is the real deal, the one against which all Saisons tend to be judged. The Dupont yeast strain alone is legendary, and is highly sought after by other brewers. In fact, that Beavertown Saison and many others are brewed using Dupont yeast.

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Saison Dupont pours a slightly hazy golden colour, with a big, frothy white head. It smells fresh, floral and hoppy, and it tastes that way too, with the distinctive Belgian esters being present, but much subdued. It’s a little reminiscent of Leffe Blonde, but much more subtle.

I’m also reminded of Duvel, though there’s an extra peppery spice that Duvel lacks. Saison is often herbed and spiced, for example with coriander, cloves and orange peel, and while I’m not sure which botanicals are used to make this beer, they’re used in restrained quantities, so proceedings remain light and fragrant.

Although I mentioned that Saison is traditionally a weaker beer, times keep on changing, and you do have to remember that we’re talking about Belgium here, so Saison Dupont weighs in at 6.5% ABV. It tastes a lot lighter though, and remains particularly refreshing. It’s all finished by a crisp, dry, lingering finish.

So do I like it? I do, but it was going to be hard for Saison Dupont to live up to the high regard in which it has historically been held, not least since this isn’t a style of beer which is likely to blow your mind.

Saison Dupont is really just a very refreshing, enjoyable Belgian ale, and a very good one at that. It would be great with food, particularly mediterranean flavours, ideally sat outdoors late into a summer’s evening.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Brasserie Dupont, Tourpes, Belgium
Style: Saison
Strength: 6.5% ABV
Found at: Utobeer, Borough Market, London SE1
Serving: 330ml Bottle

49. Hook Norton Old Hooky

It’s off to the Cotswolds we go to try the first beer I’ve ever had from the Hook Norton Brewery, their delightfully and somewhat misleadingly named Old Hooky.

I say misleadingly, because unlike Old Peculier or Old Tom, this is a Best Bitter rather than an Old Ale.

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It’s a handsome enough looking beer, pouring a warm, rubyish amber colour with a big off-white head, albeit one that fades quickly. The nose is remarkably fruity, and I’m surprised to notice that it smells almost like a Belgian Dubbel, such as Westmalle Dubbel or Chimay Rouge. There’s that distinctive, estery waft of dried fruit so typical of that style.

The fruitiness comes through in the flavour too, where it’s especially reminiscent of sultanas, and is backed up by some hefty malts. There’s a huge bitterness, but also a sweetness, and finally a saltiness that’s reminiscent of Marston’s Pedigree.

There’s a lot going on flavour-wise here then, but I’m not sure it all comes together into more than the sum of its parts. I’m just not sure what this beer’s driving at or trying to be.

In fairness, Hook Norton are all about cask ale: they refuse to let a drop of their beer be served from a keg, and sell very few bottles. It’s quite possible that I’m doing them a disservice by trying this one from a bottle, but given that Old Hooky is nigh impossible to find on cask outside Oxfordshire, it’s all I have to work with.

A reasonably good beer then, full of flavour, but not mind-blowing in any way. Still, I promise I’ll try it on cask if I ever have the opportunity!

Facts and Figures

Brewery: The Hook Norton Brewery, Hook Norton, Oxfordshire, England
Style: Best Bitters
Strength: 4.6% ABV
Found at: Bossman Wines, Lordship Lane, London SE22
Serving: 500ml Bottle