Kwencher Premium Lager

Now I know what you’re thinking – “Why on earth would a blog like this review a lager of all types of beers? I swear I’ve read direct disdain towards lagers in previous posts.”

And you would be incredibly correct. For the most part, lagers – in my magnificent opinion – are bland and insipid. The sort of brew whose only purpose is to taste vaguely like wet cardboard, fill – and subsequently empty – your stomach, and get you catastrophically drunk.

However, when confronted with a Peach and Darjeeling Tea Infused Lager, I was all of a sudden dealing with a different kettle of fish. (Like the time we brought a Siamese Fighting Fish when I was younger, put it in the fish tank with an innocent goldfish and were then left slightly scarred when it began to legitimately eat the goldfish. But, that’s a story for another time).

This particular concoction is dubbed the ‘Kwencher’, and it’s put together by ‘The Beltz Group’, operating out of a craft brewery in Geelong. In addition to the peach and tea combination, they also distribute a pink grapefruit and Darjeeling tea lager.

Allegedly this idea stemmed from a trip through the Atlas mountains in Morocco when David – the founder – and his wife Elly partook in peach iced tea and Moroccan lager each evening. This combination was so much of a winner, they set about brewing their own infused lager when they returned to the country.

That’s all well and good, but according to the website, Kwencher beers are designed not to leave the ‘lingering malt and hop taste that many beers have’.

As a self-proclaimed and sometimes derided beer connoisseur, this is a dangerous proposition to send my way. After all, isn’t it the hops and malt characteristics that add flavour, character, and charm to beers? I mean, there are literally thousands of dedicated single-hopped and specialty-malt-driven beers on the market for that very reason!

Still. I’m not one to judge a beer too harshly before trying it, and besides, this beer was bought for me and I don’t enjoy turning down free beer. So, putting my preconceived ideas about what this brew might be like aside, I set about sampling.

First point of interest: It’s outrageously carbonated for a beer. There’s a serious amount of bubbles being produced. Mind you, this isn’t necessarily a bad sign.

The peach definitely comes through in large portions on the nose and when you first swallow the liquid, and the Darjeeling tea flavours fill the back of your throat in the aftertaste, and lingers there briefly. Overall it’s quite a curious drink. Admittedly, it’s refreshing – as they claim – and the combination of flavours does marry quite successfully – as you’d expect.

However.

If I want a peach iced tea, I’ll buy a peach iced tea. If I want a lager, I’ll buy a lager. I just won’t mix them. I simply can’t get behind the concept of combining the two in an infused lager. Whilst admirable in its intents and the commitment that has gone towards producing it – in my book, it just doesn’t cut it.

On the flip-side though, if you are a keen iced tea drinker looking to move past the traditional Long Island Iced Tea and find new ways of making tea alcoholic, this product could just be for you!

Watermelon Warhead

For those familiar with this blog, the concept of sour beers isn’t ground-breaking or earth-shattering. The concept of sour beers is a delicious one however, and it’s a market that is beginning to expand as craft brewers seek to push the boundaries of ‘everyday’ beer drinkers and their taste-buds.

The most common – and original – sour beers are lambics, beers brewed using wild yeast cells and the process of spontaneous fermentation – where brewers make beer in an open vat and allow naturally occurring bacteria in the local environment to kick-start the brewing process. It’s an approach polar opposite to the bright, clean, stainless copper vats used in the modern industry, but it’s an approach that certainly makes unique beer.

Additionally, saisons, farmhouse ales, and other styles of beer can be ‘made’ sour through the introduction of acid-producing microbes into the brewing process. Once the beer has been brewed with such microbes, it is aged – often in barrels which previously held cognac, bourbon, or other assorted spirits or wines – with fruit used to balance out the sourness and ‘freshen up’ the beer before it is bottled and sold.

The length of ageing and amount of sourness in a beer are as varied as the types of sour beers you can now find. Some aim for a truly puckering finish, others have a mild sourness to add subtle tartness to the mix, and some aim for a sweet-n-sour flavour. Most of them however, are just brilliant drops. Breweries in the Australian craft brewing scene have been producing saisons and farmhouse ales – known for their earthy, funky tastes – in larger batches of late, and this experimentation has led to a rise in the brewing of sour beers.

Wig & Pen (operating out of Canberra) produced their ‘Lambs Go Baa’, a cherry lambic that spent 18 months aging in the barrel. Van Diemen Brewing (from Evandale in Tasmania) brewed their ‘Hedgerow’, an autumn seasonal beer that incorporated berries and was aged in pinot noir barrels. Red Duck (a brewery well known to this blog) took sourness to new levels with their Canute the Gruiter – a beer brewed based on a 15h century Dark Sour Ale recipe. Also, MoonDog (operating in Abbotsford in Victoria) have put forward the ‘Perverse Sexual Amalgam’ – a dark wild ale brewed with cherry plums, and the ‘Mister Mistoffelees’ – a passionfruit and mango wild ale.

All of which brings me to Feral Brewing’s Watermelon Warhead.

Feral Brewing Company is a microbrewery operating in the Swan Valley in Western Australia – an area more widely known for its wines and vineyards. They produce a wide range of beers, although are most famous for their Feral White (witbier) and their HopHog (an American IPA). They do – as most quality microbreweries do these days – also experiment with a variety of beer styles.

One of their most popular is their funky/sour/wild ale brewing, part of which saw the invention of the Feral Watermelon Warhead. Obviously named after the confectionary loved by kids everywhere, this beer popped up at the Great Australasian Beer SpecTapular earlier this year, and was one of my favourites.

The beer was produced using local watermelons, before being aged in Chardonnay barrels using some lactobacillus yeast. For those of you playing along at home, yes that is the bacteria that most of us associate with yoghurt and Yakult.

Its tart, with citrus (in particular lemon) and strong watermelon notes, has zest and funk, sourness that comes through towards when you swallow your mouthful, and tops it all off with a long, clean, crisp, super-refreshing finish. And to top it off, it’s one you drink a lot of, weighing in at just 2.9%.  It’s a beer that you don’t really know what to expect when you look at it – in its cloudy, yellow, murky, bubbly guise, but when you drink it you wonder why you ever doubted if you would like it in the first place!

All hail the Sun-God

Beer History 101: Beer is old. Seriously old. According to this, the first records of beer are 6000 years old. However, because we know that any cereal grain can undergo spontaneous fermentation due to wild yeast cells in the air, and that humans began to cultivate crops 10 000 years ago, it’s possible it’s even older.

Out of the many ancient civilisations however, it was the Egyptians who really embraced beer. Or at least, a beer-esque product. You see, from all repots back then, beer was more of a food than a beverage. A thick, sweet, meal-in-a-canopic-jar concoction. Case in point: You had to strain it through a wooden syphon in order to drink it. They didn’t exactly have copper mash tuns to brew in however, so you’ll have to cut them some slack.

Most importantly, it was drunk by just about everyone. Men, women, children, rich, poor, and everyone in between. Just like today! (Don’t feed your kids beer OK? It’s bad and kills brain cells and whatnot).

Beer has obviously come a long way since the days of Tutankhamun, but our good friends at Red Duck decided to get uber-nostalgic and the end result is RA #2.

Now, to say this beer is odd is an understatement. For starters, it’s an Imperial Egyptian Bread Beer. Back in the days of pharaoh-worshipping, they made bread dough which was then rehydrated to kick-start fermentation. So far, so straight-forward.

However, it’s a beer brewed without hops. Hops – for the uninitiated – are used to add flavour, aroma and bitterness. They’re a fairly integral part of the brewing process. But since hops weren’t cultivated until around the year 736, all manner of herbs, leaves, fruits and flowers were used in their place.

RA #2 uses (in no particular order): Spelts, oats, wheat, barley, raisins, sultanas, dried orange peel and a sprinkling of spices. Adding to the fun is that the brew is made using Red Duck’s own sourdough yeast.

What’s the end result of this I hear you ask?

Poured, it’s a thick orange beer with next to no head and low carbonation. There’s a fair whack of sediment at the bottom of the stubby, so you have to make sure you swirl the last 100ml before pouring.

On the nose, RA #2 smells like a cinnamon topped hot-cross bun. With a hint of orange and some slight sourness creeping in.

Taste-wise it delivers fully upon its promise to be entirely unique. There’s a fruit punch up front with some sweetness mid-swallow, counteracted by a long sour, hot-cross bun finish. There’s a trace of alcohol in the aftertaste, but it’s not the kick in the guts you’d expect from a brew weighing in at a hefty 11.3%.

Overall impressions? A completely bewildering beer. It took me until half-way through to decided whether or not I enjoyed the beer, but its one that grows on you as it warms and your tastebuds acclimatise.

It is however, not a beer for beginners. I’m loathe to sound too much like a beer-snob, but this isn’t something you approach from a purely lager/draught background. In fact, if you’d handed me this in my early days of drinking, I would’ve spat it out.

For those intrepid brave souls looking to both walk and drink like an Egyptian however, follow in the footsteps of Howard Carter and seek out this oddity.

The Bear

Every now and then, along comes a brewery with seemingly strange but stupendous ideas for new beers.

Such a brewery resides in Ballarat:Red Duck.

Beginning in 2005 on the shores of Lake Purrumbete, this mob are one of the smallest micro-breweries going around and tend to specialise in off-beat, one-off batches.

They do have a core range of ‘everyday beers’ – namely a kolsch, pale ale, amber ale, porter and IPA – but it’s their experimentation that is most impressive.

Among others there’s been the White Garden (a witbier made with raspberry and rhubarb jam), the Red Admiral (a strong Celtic red ale), the Ox (an imperial stout), Canute the Gruit (a sour, smoky medieval ale), the Loch Ness (a barrel-aged scotch ale) and perhaps most ridiculously, the RA (an imperial Egyptian bread beer ). Quite what the last one would taste like is beyond the depths of my taste-buds, but you have to give them kudos for the sheer insanity of it.

Most importantly, averaging just 500 litres per brew, these releases are insanely limited and need to be snapped up as soon as you see them.

Fortunately finding its way into my possession was ‘The Bear’, a concoction that claimed to be the latest in a series of braggots.

This style of beer is particularly unknown to most people, and is a form of mead made with honey and barley malt, although traditionally without hops. A claim to fame for this style is being mentioned in Chaucer’s ‘Canterbury Tales’ in the late 1300s, but there are earlier references dating back to the 12th Century in Ireland.

As written about previously here, the brewing of medieval beers has become somewhat of a trend amongst micro-brewers. And really, who doesn’t want to explore the history of the glorious product we call beer? I don’t want the obvious lack of sanitation that would’ve existed in the brewing of beer hundreds of years ago, but I’d be up for a glimpse into what my great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents were getting sloshed on.

Red Duck are no strangers to  using honey in beer, with their ‘Bumble Bee’ and ‘Queen Bee’ both containing honey. Additionally, there is the ’Ugly Duckling’ – a 14.3% braggot introduced the style into their catalogue. For me however, I’ve only had beers which have used honey as a supporting ingredient, not the base.

The Bear comes to life when the brewers take some wild dark bush honey and fashion a batch of strong mead from it. When that’s ready, they try it and develop an ale to match the flavours. In this case, they decided upon a strong amber ale.

This ale is mixed with the mead, and the result is an intensely flavoured, rich, honey-filled beer.

Smell-wise, you get – as expected – honey and a suprisingly obvious alchohol sensation. It’s a dark honey colour with a long-lasting head (and considerable lacing), and it’s a tad more bubbly than I expected.

On the first swallow you get rich honey flavours with a big malty background, a solid kick of sweetness coming through and a lingering alcohol aftertaste (not surprising coming from a 9.8% brew).

There is huge mouth-feel, and an intriguing flavour that makes you want to hold the brew in your mouth and fully explore its sensation before swallowing.

In short: It’s amazing. Seriously strong and one you could only really drink one of at a time, but amazing nonetheless.

Next time you see one of their specialty releases, do yourself a favour and purchase it. Like, yesterday.

Coedo Beniaka

Every now and then you read about something in Japan that makes you shake your head. This usually happens when you’re surfing the great interwebs and come across something like this: http://www.theage.com.au/travel/blogs/the-backpacker/is-this-the-craziest-place-on-earth-20120731-23bwr.html

Or you chance upon a clip on YouTube that looks like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yzC4hFK5P3g&feature=fvwrel

Assuming I haven’t sent you completely over the edge with that, let’s continue. I’m not a big fan of stereotyping people, but let’s be honest, on the evidence presented I think it’s fairly safe to say that the Japanese are capable of producing some quite bizarre stuff. After all, this blog has previously featured a Red Rice Ale from Hitachino.

So when I came across the Coedo Beniaka, I was surprised, yet completely nonplussed at the same time. The bottle seems innocent enough, with it’s proclamation that it’s a “premium lager”.

Slightly closer inspection of the label reveals this concoction’s secrets however. The brew is made with roasted sweet potato. Specifically, Kintoki sweet potatoes from the Bushu area of Japan. Now let’s be honest, if anyone was going to make a sweet potato lager it was going to be the Japanese. And if anyone was going to make a sweet potato lager that tastes absolutely nothing like a ‘normal’ lager, it was going to be the Japanese.

On a side note, what was the deal with the dude in the pink grandma-fat-suit in that clip? I mean, how much acid was dropped in making that?!

Back to the beer though. Coedo Brewery have only operated since 1996, so they lack the ‘old-world brewing’ history of many beer-makers out there. However, these guys are legitimately serious about their beer. Not only is their motto “Beer Beautiful”, but their crest consists of stylised hop flowers. Best of all, they have an awesomely slick website.

The use of sweet potato in the beer contributes to its clear amber-red colour (as well it should, seeing as Beniaka means ‘crimson red’ in Japanese) and there’s a brief, excitable period where a thin head forms, before quickly subsiding.

On the nose there’s some caramel sweetness stemming from the sweet potato, as well as some earthy aromas.  Taste-wise there’s a good hit of sweet potato which brings about a pleasant sweetness, some malty, spicy characters, and an intriguing dry finish. There’s a fair whack of alcohol that comes through (which is fair enough considering this particular brew weighs in at 7%), but the overall impression is mixed.

It’s certainly unique in its style – after all, I can’t say I know any other sweet potato beers. It is however, enjoyable. I can’t say it’s one you would drink a six-pack of though.

All in all, there’s something – to me – delightfully Japanese about the beer. It’s not quite what you expect, and deep-down it’s quite simple. But within that simplicity there’s enough to keep you interested and satisfied.

And of course, like any good Japanese experience, it leaves you just a tad perplexed.

I Love The Smell of Bacon In The Morning

Today we begin with a quick brewing fact: Beer is made using grains. These grains (usually barley malt) are allowed to germinate to kick-start the process of turning starch in the grain into fermentable sugars. Following this, the grain is processed by heating or roasting. Depending on the malt you use and the level of drying or roasting, the final beer takes on various colours and flavours. (For “How Beer Is Made 101″  further reading, check out this easy-to-follow guide: http://blog.beeriety.com/2009/07/06/how-beer-is-made/)

Back when beer was first brewed, the only way for the barley malt to be dried was over wood fires, which tended to give every beer a hint of smoke. Of course, as brewing became more advanced and ‘high-tech’, barley could be dried and roasted without imparting any residual smokiness.

Luckily,o country in particular realised the potential of said process and turned it into somewhat of an art-form. A country famous for schnitzels, bratwurst, Heidi Klum, busty bar wenches, Bach, Beethoven, Mercedes-Benz, lederhosen, soccer, Rammstein, Einstein, Claudia Schiffer, Steffi Graf and polka. (Just don’t mention the war!)

It’s perhaps what the Germans do best: Make beer. The only convincing you should need is one word – Oktoberfest. More specifically however, the Germans are geniuses at making smoked beer. Case in point? Schlenkerla’s Rauchbier Urbock. Brewed just twice a year, this is perhaps my favourite example of German-beer-engineering.

This particular mob have been producing smoked delights since 1405, so it’s fair to say they’ve had a tiny bit of practice. Using green barley malt smoked over beechwood fires as part of the brewing process, it’s then matured in oakwood casks for three months before being unleashed to the world.

The brew itself is smooth, rich, has a touch of sweetness, and is a bit lighter than you might expect for a strong, dark beer (the Urbock clocks in at 6.5%).  Oh, and it tastes like smoked bacon.

Personally, I don’t see how you could have a more perfect match. Beer. Bacon. Combined. Think about it for a while.

For those unfamiliar with smoked beers, Schlenkerla’s range isn’t aimed at beginners. It’s for those who have tried out a few smoked beers and are looking to hark back to the good old days of German reinheitsgebot smoked beer.

And it’s brilliant. I’m not just saying that because I love bacon either. Don’t just take my word for it though. For further proof, this particular beverage pulled a 99 on RateBeer. That’s good in anyone’s book.

The ‘Burbs Are Alive, With The Sound of Brewing

These days, any brewing company worth it’s weight in hops is being sold off to big multi-national corporations. Case in point: Little Creatures recently being snapped up by Lion Nathan.

News like this is always met with dismay from beer-lovers. After all, who wants their favourite drop brewed under license, most likely in some industrial warehouse with little access to the public?  It’s akin to seeing Heineken or Stella Artois labels with “brewed under license in Laverton” on them. No-one wants that.

Which is why the new rise of micro-breweries in Victoria is warming hearts much like an imperial stout would on a cold night. It’s not just picturesque locales near wine-country that are the focus for brewers these days either. As strange as it sounds, it’s Melbourne’s inner-suburbia that is driving the production of new ales.

My recent beer-drinking adventures took me to – of all places-  Brunswick and Thornbury. As with any visit came the desire to expand my beer-drinking horizons. And expand it did!

Temple Brewing Company exists in imposing looking building (definitely living up to its name) down a quite street in Brunswick just off Sydney Road which it doesn’t suit at all. Think big, black outer, big, black doors and tinted windows amid suburban sprawl.

Operating since 2005 thanks to husband and wife duo Ron and Renata Fergulio, Temple started off as many micro-breweries do,with a pale ale and a bitter. Despite early success, these were clearly too boring. Going all out for their second batch of beers, you’ve now got on hand:

A very hoppy ‘Midnight IPA’, a ‘Soba Ale’ brewed with toasted buckwheat of all things, a Bicycle Beer (a tart ale brewed with red malt and spelt), a Saison, a ‘Saison de Miel’ (which is a saison refermented with orange honey blossom), and a Smoked Weizen. Add in a ‘People’s Pint’ called the Double Hoptendre (brilliant name, slightly confused beer –  try it and you’ll understand)  and you’ve got an extraordinarily healthy beer list. Best of all, they’re all quality beers.

It’s a slightly bizarre place too.The interior is reminiscent of an inner-CBD bar, yet you look in one direction and see the brewing floor in all its glory, and the other and you see people’s houses.

Leaving a satisfied, slightly beer-soaked, and slightly perplexed customer, Thornbury was the next stop – the home of 3 Ravens. Starting out in 2003, 3 Ravens haven’t quite got the sleek, modern ‘brasserie & bar’ set-up that Temple has. More importantly thought, they have a brewery door which lets you have free beer tastings.

Rocking a Blond ‘Altbier’ (a golden ale with a German heart), a Witbier (very quaffable traditional witbier), an American Pale Ale (a 5.5%, five-hop gem), a Stout, and an English Ale as their core range, the brewers are also beginning to experiment!

*celebratory jig*

There’s a softly smoked wheat beer, a bock (ridiculously smooth and malty), and a brand-spanking new Prussian Porter (aged in oak and pinot noir barrels). There’s also what might be a double IPA in the works, although this could yet turn into a tripel or a barleywine.

Again though, there wasn’t a bad beer amongst the lot. Sure, some were merely drinkable rather than spectacular, but let’s be honest – sometimes you just want a beer you can drink a lot of.

Perhaps the best part about the day was the realisation that beer-drinkers needn’t despair. Sure, there seems to be a veritable glut of breweries being overtaken. But, in the suburbs of Melbourne exist quality beer-makers with a passion for flavour and ‘difference’.

Looking for inspiration of where to go? Try this article for starters: http://www.au.timeout.com/melbourne/bars/features/604/victorias-best-breweries