107. Harveys Imperial Extra Double Stout

Since we’re at the Royal Oak already, and very pleasant it is too, maybe we should make the most of our visit by treating ourselves to a bottle of the other Harveys beer we need, the Imperial Extra Double Stout.

As befits a beer with the words “imperial”, “extra” and “double” in its name, this one is a bit of a monster. At 9% ABV it’s not for beginners, and even draws a questioning look from the young barman who’s clearly surprised that anybody would drink one at lunchtime.

But it’s only a little bottle, and anyway Threehundredbeers does not have a choice. Not when there is science to be done.

Harveys Imperial Extra Double Stout at the Royal Oak, SE1

Harveys Imperial Extra Double Stout is as dark a brown as a beer can get without being black. There’s no head or even froth to speak of, despite a fairly aggressive pour, which isn’t unusual with beers this strong.

What it does have in spades, though, is what daft beer bloggers call “legs”. That is to say it coats the glass thickly with luxurious, lingering boozy alcohol residues. There’s a huge aroma too, wafting across the table as the beer is poured. It’s smoky, sinister and very alluring indeed.

The body isn’t the fullest I’ve ever seen on a stout, but that’s forgotten the moment you taste it. That smokiness is front and centre, and accompanied by massive quantities of licorice and a rich, chocolatey bittersweet tang that’s reminiscent of the Brooklyn Black Chocolate Stout, a confirmed favourite of mine.

There are soot, leather, tar, black cherry and even sour lactic notes, but thankfully none of the superfluous sweetness that can plague some Iesser Imperial Stouts.

You can taste the alcohol though, that’s for sure, as it adds a decadent, almost numbing heat. You can feel it too, but you aren’t complaining. It’s a lovely, warming beer that drinks more like a fine port or sherry.

This really is something a bit special. Given all the flavours that are in there vying for attention, I’m certain the Imperial Extra Double Stout would age beautifully, so we’ll brave another questioning look from the barman as we order a couple more to take home for the cellar.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Harvey & Sons, Lewes, East Sussex
Style: Porters and Stouts
Strength: 9.0% ABV
Found at: The Royal Oak, Tabard Street, London SE1
Serving: 275ml bottle

106. Harveys Sussex Best Bitter

Harveys Sussex Best is one of those beers that are tremendously easy to find all over London. It’s also a beer that, like many bitters, unless kept well and served in top notch condition, can be a little underwhelming. Indeed, despite its ubiquity, I don’t think I’ve ever had a truly good pint.

Let’s find out just how good this beer can be by making our way to one of only two Harveys pubs in London, and one I’ve never visited before, the rather wonderful Royal Oak in Tabard Street.

The Royal Oak, London SE1

It’s a handsome enough pub, that’s for sure. A traditional, two room Victorian street corner pub tucked away not far from the hustle and bustle of London Bridge. The interior doesn’t appear to have changed in a good century or so. And why would it.

Even early doors, there’s an eclectic yet pleasingly reassuring mix of customers: the familiar regulars studying the racing form in the Sun over a half of Mild, a couple of card-wielding CAMRA gents in actual sandals, and a young family enjoying a hearty feed. Everyone seems to be on first name terms.

And of course there’s a nerdy beer blogger sat awkwardly in the corner pretending to do the cryptic and waving a cameraphone at anything that moves. Pint of Best please, chief.

Harveys Sussex Best Bitter

Harveys Sussex Best is a lovely bronze colour, with a light, rocky tan head. It’s in impeccable condition here, of course, and it’s a different beer to the few pints I’ve had elsewhere.

The flavour is all sultanas, caramel and biscuity malts, with a big long bitter finish courtesy of the peppery English hops. At 4.0% it’s eminently sessionable, but without being in any way boring.

To be honest, if you know what a Bitter tastes like, you know what this one tastes like. It tastes like a Bitter, obviously, but a little bit better.

I think that’s a function of being brewed, conditioned and served with absolute pride. It’s a fine beer indeed, at a fine pub. I had another. And then I found beer number 107 quietly minding its business behind the bar…

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Harvey & Sons, Lewes, East Sussex
Style: Bitters
Strength: 4.0% ABV
Found at: The Royal Oak, Tabard Street, London SE1
Serving: Cask, pint

105. Ridley’s Old Bob

This is another convenience store beer that has sat neglected at the back of the cupboard for too long. Unlike the Ringwood Old Thumper, though, this one does at least have a few months left on the clock.

Ridley's Old Bob

Ridley’s Old Bob is very much in the same category as the Old Thumper, being an ESB-style beer. As such it pours a very appealing reddish chestnut brown colour. There isn’t a great deal of head beyond a small layer of tan froth.

There’s a big old aroma though, full of dates, raisins and all the other dried fruits you can think of, so no deviation from the style there. It’s clearly as fresh as a daisy, despite the extended time on the shelf.

To taste, that fruit is front and centre. It’s a really full flavoured beer, tangy and with a strong, malty caramel sweetness. After a long week at work it’s quite the thirst quencher too, going down very easily indeed despite the big flavours.

A light smattering of peppery English hops prevent the sweetness from becoming overbearing, and leaves a satisfying, lightly bitter finish to round things off nicely.

It’s not entirely clear why I tend to keep overlooking beers of this style, because I always end up enjoying them greatly. Maybe it’s just that they’re so commonplace and easily found that they’re easy to take for granted.

I won’t have that problem with the other Ridley’s beer I need to track down, the Witchfinder Porter. That one went out of production not long after bloody Greene King bought the Ridley family out in 2005. How to resolve that little obstacle I’m not sure. Stay tuned to find out.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Greene King, Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk, England
Style: Extra Strong Beers and Bitters
Strength: 5.1% ABV
Found at: Londis, Westow Hill, London SE19
Serving: 500ml bottle

104. Rogue Shakespeare Stout

The short stretch of London alongside and under the railway tracks into London Bridge station is home to a growing number of excellent small, new breweries, including The Kernel, Partizan and Brew by Numbers.

On Saturdays these breweries, along with many of the other small businesses in and around the railway arches, such as bakers, cheesemongers and importers of various delicious foodstuffs, open their doors to the public, who are invariably eager to sample the wares on offer.

All in all, the so-called “Bermondsey Beer Mile” makes for a particularly pleasant Saturday stroll for the beer lover and so this weekend, the help of Official Threehundredbeers Drinking Buddy Ben was enlisted, and we were on the hunt for beer number 104.

The newest beery addition to the Bermondsey area comes to us via Canterbury’s The Bottle Shop, whose growing wholesale operations have seen them establish a depot in a Druid Street arch. Again, on a Saturday they open up to the public, who can take a seat and choose from the 350 or so beers in their catalogue.

One of which—I’m very pleased to report—is Rogue Shakespeare Stout.

Rogue Shakespeare Stout

Poured from its double sized sharing bottle, the Shakespeare Stout is as black as black can be. It’s entirely opaque, with a good dose of coffee-coloured foam that dissipates quite quickly.

It’s a complex beer. At first taste it’s a big, honest, flavoursome stout but there are notes of a roasty, caramel sweetness, vanilla and cardamom spice.

As with the Samuel Smith’s Oatmeal Stout, the use of oats makes for a really smooth beer. There’s no harshness at all, but there is a huge long bitter finish that lingers and lingers.

The bitterness is offset by that slight caramel sweetness, making for a beautifully balanced beer. This is really just a great example of a no-nonsense, high quality stout, and one I’d happily drink again. Which is fortunate, as I took advantage of The Bottle Shop’s reasonable pricing and brought another bottle home.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Rogue Ales, Newport, Oregon
Style: Porters and Stouts
Strength: 6.0% ABV
Found at: The Bottle Shop, Druid Street, London SE1
Serving: 650ml bottle

103. Shipyard Fuggles IPA

It’s funny how things work out. One morning I’d been poring over The Official 300 Beers Todo List, as is my wont, and fretting over how on earth to find Shipyard Fuggles IPA, a beer I’d never seen from an American brewery I’d never heard of.

A couple of hours later I walked into my local Oddbins only to find a freshly delivered case being loaded onto the shelves and into the fridge. And here it is.

Shipyard Fuggles IPA

This could be interesting, because Shipyard Fuggles IPA is an American IPA from Portland, Maine, but as the name suggests, it’s brewed exclusively with Fuggles, a quintessentially English hop that you’d more usually find in a pint of bitter.

The label proudly pronounces this to be “Craft Beer”, which is typically an unambiguous sign that it’s nothing of the sort, and is more likely to originate from a mediocre brewery vainly trying to buzzword their way into a seat on the bandwagon. But maybe this is an exception.

Shipyard Fuggles IPA

Shipyard Fuggles IPA is a warm copper colour with almost no head at all. There’s barely a wisp of froth on there, despite a reasonably hard pour.

The only way I can describe the taste is that it’s what a not-particularly-knowledgeable American lager drinker probably thinks an English beer tastes like, but then sweetened and with the ABV bumped up to make it more acceptable to that same American guy.

It doesn’t really work. It’s sweet, soapy and slightly medicinal with pronounced notes of fungus, plaster of Paris and disappointment. If you were to imagine a poorly-kept pint of something like Doom Bar that’s been left out overnight, and then industrially condensed to accentuate the unpleasantness within, you’d be quite close.

I’m going to be charitable here and assume that this is a beer which does not travel well. At all. Maybe it’s an absolute delight when sampled in Portland. I suspect I’ll never know, but I do rather wish I’d only bought
the one bottle.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Shipyard Brewing Company, Portland, ME
Style: India Pale Ales
Strength: 5.8% ABV
Found at: Oddbins, Rosendale Road, London SE21
Serving: 355ml bottle

102. Mordue Workie Ticket

The contribution that The Grape & Grain up in Crystal Palace has made to this ridiculous project so far has been nothing short of heroic, and continues with this oddly-named Best Bitter from the North East of England.

I’d been wondering how to find this one, so the moment “the Grape” announced that it was on the bar via their Perfectpint page, plans were hastily changed and Threehundredbeers was on its way up the hill.

Let’s order a pint from the friendly young staff and take it outside into the spacious beer garden. In fact, in over a hundred beers covered, I think this is the first outdoor beer we’ve had. It must be summer.

Mordue Workie Ticket

The name “Workie Ticket” apparently derives from a distinctly North Eastern term, the meaning of which is somewhat ill-defined. I’ve seen various explanations involving being a jobsworth, or trying to get expelled from the army, but I won’t bore you with them, because no one really seems sure, and I imagine you know how to use a search engine at least as well as me.

The name of the Mordue Brewery itself dates back to the 19th century, but its present incarnation actually began life in 1995, shortly after which they were awarded Champion Beer of Britain for this particular brew. It’s a famous beer then, though you rarely see it down here in London.

Mordue Workie Ticket is a handsome enough beer, pouring a deep rubyish bronze colour with a small tan head. Right from the first taste, it’s full of flavour. It’s a Best alright, but there’s a big malty sweetness that’s strongly reminiscent of a Mild.

The sweetness is backed up by a huge mouthful of spicy English hops, though, and there are dates, currants and other assorted dried fruits, but also some chocolatey and roasty notes that wouldn’t seem out of place in a Porter. It all combines to make for a huge beer that’s chewy, mouthwatering and very moreish.

I stuck at one pint though, because I suspect all that flavour could potentially get a bit overwhelming. Still, this was a very fine, restorative pint. I liked it a lot, and it’s one that I’d happily drink again.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Mordue Brewery, North Shields, Tyne & Wear
Style: Best Bitters
Strength: 4.5% ABV
Found at: The Grape & Grain, Anerley Hill, London SE19
Serving: Cask, pint

101. Koningshoeven La Trappe Blond

It must be all of two weeks since we last visited Lowlander. It’s a pleasant evening for a stroll around the West End, so why not let’s drift back. We can tackle this week’s Beelzebub crossword and sample the third and final La Trappe beer that we need while we’re there.

Koningshoeven La Trappe Blond at Lowlander Grand Café

We’ve already seen the La Trappe Dubbel and also the Tripel. The Blond is actually the least strong of the three, at a mere 6.5% ABV.

It pours very much the expected golden colour with a small amount of dense, white foam, and there’s a remarkable amount of fizz to it.

This is technically a Dutch beer, but like the previous La Trappe offerings, it’s basically as Belgian as a beer can get, short of, you know, actually being Belgian. It smells and tastes every inch the typical Belgian blond: floral and honey notes, banana fruit and musty farmhouse yeast.

There’s a hint of vanilla and some spicy hops, and despite being a little gassy, it’s quite refreshing. Unfortunately it’s a disappointingly inoffensive beer. There’s none of the moreish, zingy saltiness of the last Trappist blond we tried, the famous Westvleteren, or the warming alcohols of the La Trappe Tripel.

There’s nothing to particularly dislike about this one, but on balance, it’s really a rather forgettable beer.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Abdij Onze Lieve Vrouw van Koningshoeven, Berkel-Enschot, Netherlands
Style: Trappist Beers
Strength: 6.5% ABV
Found at: Lowlander Grand Café, Drury Lane, London WC2B
Serving: 330ml bottle

100. Westvleteren Blond

I feel under a certain amount of pressure to come up with something a bit special for beer number 100. I hope this will do, as it’s a bottle of something rather rare which I brought back from Belgium when I visited in February.

Westvletern Blond - cap

Westvleteren Blond is one of three beers brewed by the Trappist monks at The Abbey of Saint Sixtus of Westvleteren somewhere deep in the Flanders countryside. The Blond is perhaps the least famous of the three, and the lightest in terms of alcohol, at a sensible-by-Belgian-standards 5.8%.

The beers are officially only available at the monastery, and even then only after you jump through some pretty draconian hoops. The reason is that the monks have no desire to become a commercial brewing operation, instead preferring to sell just enough beer to pay for the upkeep of the monastery, and to allow them to carry on with their monky business undisturbed.

So they’ve rather shot themselves in the foot, then, by brewing what many consider to be some of the very finest beers in the world. The combination of lack of supply and huge demand mean they’re also some of the rarest and most difficult to find.

Fortunately for 300 Beers, there’s a small, shall we say, grey market in Brussels, and you can get hold of them if you know where to look, at least if you don’t mind parting with a few extra euros.

Westvleteren Blond

As you can see, the monks don’t even feel the need to do anything so pretentious as to put a label on their bottles, instead squeezing all the required information onto the cap.

There’s a hefty dose of loose yeast in the bottle, making it impossible to pour without getting a little in your glass, which doesn’t matter. As such, the beer pours an attractive, cloudy, deep golden colour with a modest amount of tenacious white froth which coats the glass beautifully.

The nose is all grapefruit, honey, delicate floral hops and Belgian yeast. The mouthfeel is interesting for a blond, as it’s so velvety smooth, and the beer is really quite full bodied.

To taste, that honey is there in spades and is joined by banana fruit courtesy of the malts, and big pepper and clove spice notes from the Northern Brewer hops.

The spices are present right through to the finish, which is surprisingly bitter for a blond. In fact it’s distinctly salty, in a way that’s reminiscent of an unaged Orval, which in many ways I guess is quite a similar beer.

The saltiness is a little odd at first, but soon becomes mouthwatering, and combines with the slightest of sour and farmhouse notes to provide an overall effect that’s a great deal more satisfying than many Belgian blonds.

Whilst it was always going to be hard for the Blond to live up to the high regard afforded to the two other beers in the Westvleteren family, in particular the Abt, there really is a very special quality to it: a real balance and refinement that only the finest beers ever achieve.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: The Abbey of Saint Sixtus of Westvleteren, Flanders, Belgium
Style: Trappist Beers
Strength: 5.8% ABV
Found at: De Biertempel, Grasmarkt, Brussels, Belgium
Serving: 330ml bottle

99. Crouch Vale Brewers Gold

Fancy a quick pint on the way home from work? Tell you what, let’s pop in to the Edgar Wallace. I’ve heard a lot of good things about the pub, and have an inkling that they might be able to help 300 Beers out with a beer or two.

It turns out to be a very nice pub. It’s pretty traditional, and the walls and ceiling are lined with brewery and other booze-related memorabilia and pump clips.

Sure enough, among the eight handpumps is Crouch Vale Brewers Gold (no apostrophe, note), a beer about which I know very little, other than it’s in The Book, and that it’s the only beer to have been crowned Champion Beer of Britain two years running.

Crouch Vale Brewers Gold

As you can tell, it’s kind of dark inside the Edgar Wallace, even on a sunny evening, but I can just make out that Brewers Gold is well-named, as it’s gold in colour, with a white head that fades to nothing a within a few minutes of getting back to your seat.

It’s in good nick here all the same, much as I’d been told it would be. The first taste is sweet, sappy and resiny. It’s full bodied, with rich honey flavours and a slight chemical note that I can’t quite place.

The sweetness carries through strongly to the finish, where it’s joined by a restrained hop bitterness that builds noticeably as you work your way towards the bottom of the glass.

Brewers Gold reminds me somewhat of the Kelham Island Pale Rider that I enjoyed a great deal up in Sheffield, but I’m not sure it’s quite in the same league.

It’s a pleasant enough, slightly moreish and very sessionable beer, though I didn’t find it particularly exciting. I’d drink it again, but probably wouldn’t go out of my way for another pint.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Crouch Vale Brewery, South Woodham Ferrers, Essex, England
Style: Golden Ales
Strength: 4.0% ABV
Found at: The Edgar Wallace, Essex Street, London WC2R
Serving: Cask, pint

98. Pilsner Urquell

It may not always be obvious, but I do try to think about how to make some of these posts interesting for both my readers. And I had wondered what I could find to say about Pilsner Urquell, a beer that you can find by the bottle in any supermarket in the land.

So when the very pleasant The Canonbury up in North London announced they were to hold a Pilsner Urquell Oak Barrel Event this weekend, Threehundredbeers was predictably first on the scene.

Pilsner Urquell Oak Barrel Event

What we have here is unfiltered, unpasteurised Pilsner Urquell, drained directly from the lagering tanks at the brewery in Pilsen into a very limited number of oak casks, and then promptly escorted over to the UK to be dispensed by gravity into the glasses of eagerly waiting beer nerds who come from far and wide. All for the regular price of a pint of the keg stuff.

Having got in early, the beer was still settling when I arrived, and the first pint was mostly froth. It turned into actual beer quickly and I was invited to return for as many refills as I fancied, so I was a very happy camper indeed.

Oak Barelled Pilsner Urquell

As you can see, the beer is a beautiful cloudy amber colour. CAMRA types should take note that this is what “real” beer actually looks like, rather than the artificially, chemically clarified stuff they seem to prefer.

The aroma is absolutely huge for a lager, and full of Pilsner malts, oak and restrained, floral hops. Being served at room temperature certainly helps.

To taste, the beer is quite subtle and delicate at first. It’s full bodied and malty though, all Digestives and Rich Tea biscuits. This is not a sledgehammer of a beer. Instead it takes its time, and quietly works its way up to a gigantic, bitter finish, leaving you wanting more immediately. Back in the queue we go.

This really is special. It’s still a lager, but with all the flavours turned up to 11. There’s even banana fruit and a caramel richness in there, but absolutely zero sweetness. In fact this is one of the driest beers I’ve come across in a long time, and I like that.

I was told that the oaked Pilsner Urquell is the same strength as the regular stuff, which is 4.4%. Now, maybe I didn’t have enough breakfast before setting off, but this one went to my head much quicker than a beer of that strength usually would. I’ll survive.

Sadly, the last of this year’s oaked Pilsner Urquell consignment has been drunk now, but I can strongly recommend keeping your eyes peeled for future events, and making your way along if some does turn up. I certainly shall.

Facts and Figures

Brewery: Plzeňský Prazdroj, Pilsen, Czech Republic
Style: Pilsners
Strength: 4.4% ABV
Found at: The Canonbury, Canonbury Place, London N1
Serving: Oak cask, gravity, somewhat more than a pint