Bailey’s little brother had a fit of thoughtfulness and for Christmas this year got this very nice chap to engrave six beer glasses with a version of the graphic from our blog’s header.
Drinking our own brews out of our own branded glasses is very satisfying indeed!
We had written a post saying pretty much exactly what Tandleman says here. As that’s now a bit redundant, we thought instead that we’d suggest some beers which, although not necessarily Christmas themed, fit the season better than many of the bland, brown santa-bothering bitters appearing on pumps up and down the country.
1. Brooklyn Chocolate Stout (10%)
Dark, very rich and strong, this isn’t an everyday beer, and so makes a perfect Christmas indulgence.
2. Bush Noel (12%)
Our bottle had been in storage for a year or two. Wowzers. Maple, biscuit and lots of booze.
3. Dark Star Imperial Stout (10.5%)
On tap at the Rake. Sherry, coffee, vanilla… in fact, too many beautiful overlapping flavours to list.
4. Sam Smith’s Winter Welcome (6%)
Brown, sure enough, but rich and super-fruity, with suggestions of banana and pineapple as well as the usual orangey English hop flavours.
5. Brodie’s Ho Ho Ho (5.5%)
A good example of how to do a Christmas beer — subtle spicing, beefy malt flavours and with the body of a much stronger beer.
6. Fuller’s 1845 (6.3)
London Pride doesn’t get a look in — this powerful ale really does taste like candied orange peel and so gets all our love in December.
7. Hepworth Vintage Christmas Ale (7.5%)
Sort of a barley wine? There are flavours of candied peel and nuts balanced with veritable hop bitterness. Ages well, too.
Auditioned and rejected: Wassail by Ballard’s (tasted like it had been cut with unfermented brown sugar) and Santa’s Wobble by Hogs Head (interesting but with an unwelcome hint of vinegar).
Any other suggestions very welcome! And, as always, if you’re reviewed any of these beers and would like us to link to your review in the post, let us know.
We’ve just got back from a week away in Germany. On the way out, we spent a night in Brussels checking into our hotel not long before 10.30 pm on a rainy Tuesday night. That gave us just enough time to dash to our favourite pub, the Poechenellekelder, to try a few items from their very extensive Christmas beer menu.
Tsjeeses by Struise caught our eye because of the mysterious name which became less so once we said it aloud and saw the label, which features a cartoon of a very stoned Jesus with smoke curling from his mouth and ears. Tacky branding aside, it was a perfect Belgian blonde and absurdly drinkable at 10%. Not too sweet, not too bitter, definitely spicy but nothing you could pick out. Everything was in balance. It reminded us what we love about Belgian beer.
Palm Dubbel was less exciting, but certainly not unpleasant. It reminded us of Leffe Radieuse, with the same kind of fruit flavour which makes you wonder if cherries have been added somewhere along the way.
Zinnebier Xmas (Brasserie de la Senne) reminded us of Fuller’s London Porter but was much easier to swig — less intense and with a lighter body. Roasted grains mixed with sour-fruit aromas. Fabulous.
Forestinne Nordika from Brasserie Caracole was the last we could squeeze in as the bar emptied and bills were paid. Luckily, it was also a hit, with a powerful sweet orange-peel aroma and flavour that we loved. There was more fruit than spice and we guessed from the colour that it had been made with something like English pale ale malt as the base.
All in all, a successful start to our trip.
Still to come: we find a brewery making stout in Cologne; catch ourselves ticking mulled drinks; and find a surprising amount of decent beer in Northern Germany.
It’s Stir-up Sunday today, and I’m having a go at my first Christmas pudding. My dad always makes puddings according to an old family recipe and I’ve been meaning to have a go for ages.
Of course, the angle of interest for the beer geek is the vexing question of what beer to use while making it. Pete Brown went for a rare beer used in the Queen’s pudding, no less. And we see that Thornbridge have supplied their excellent St Petersburg Stout to some luxury pudding manufacturer.
Now, I’m always a bit sceptical about using good quality booze in food — by the time you’ve added all the other ingredients and cooked whatever it is you’re making, I find it hard to believe that the beautiful balance and flavourings that you appreciate in your tipple are going to shine on through.
I turned to my two culinary stalwarts at this point. Delia suggests using both extra stout and barley wine (“pubs usually have it”, she says, optimistically. I wish they did, Delia, I wish they did). My dad, on the other hand, uses a tin of Guinness.
I scoured the beer cellar garage, and returned with some Coopers Best Extra Stout. We’ve had this a few times before (it seems to be a popular option in our local off licence) and find it a delicious, reliable, sturdy stout. As we’d recently bought a six pack, I had no hesitation in using a whole bottle to marinate my fruit, spice and vegetable mix.
The mix has been soaking overnight, so today it’s time to mix in the other ingredients (breadcrumbs, flour, eggs), stir it up, make a wish and then steam them for many hours. The puddings will then have a month to mature until Christmas. We always used to eat puddings that were made the year before, so I’ve made two, so I can keep one back for Christmas 2010.
Boak
While attempting to prove to Bailey that Stir-up Sunday was not some bonkers tradition my parents invented, I was pleased to note that the top Google ranking goes to this site put together by a junior school in Kent. I have added this additional link to do my bit to keep them there.
Kitsch is a German word and the wonderful, warm, colourful Christmas markets of Germany demonstrate exactly what it means.
There were mock pine forests (trees nailed to the floor, Goslar); mock wooden houses (everywhere); mock stone ovens (plaster and fibreglass, Leipzig); and mock snow (fibreglass and glitter, Dortmund). The stalls sell traditional wooden toys, traditional sausages, traditional stollen, traditional cough sweets — you name it, if it’s ‘time honoured’ they’re selling it.
And yet, it doesn’t feel nasty, or tacky or cheap.
On our first night in Germany, we found ourselves in the Christmas market in Dortmund, surrounded by people slightly tipsy on gluehwein. Everyone was cold, but had hot booze to keep their hands warm. There was a genuine and general sense of well-being and togetherness, despite the fakery with which we were surrounded. And we didn’t give the absence of beer a second thought.
We’re no subscribers to the idea that we live in ‘binge Britain’, but the thought did cross our mind: could this ever work in the UK? Are we too cynical, too prone to drunken idiocy? It would be nice to think not…
We're a pair of beer geeks who live in London in the UK. Bailey is a man, Boak is a lady. We've been writing this beer blog since April 2007 and it's taken us all over Britain and Europe in pursuit of the perfect pint.
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