Tag Archives: Ale

Pink Elephant ‘Golden Tusk’

Pink Elephant 'Golden Tusk'
Pink Elephant 'Golden Tusk'

I should’ve been all over this. It’s from a pokey little operation in Blenheim where his bit seems to be making overstrong brews. This one clocks in at 7.1% and is the lowest-booze of the three we have in stock. It’s pitched as a ‘special bitter’, and starts with a nice big nose full of apricots and other orange-coloured stonefruity things. On your first sip, it’s got a pleasantly bitter punch and then… pretty much nothing. Alarmingly thin for a seven-percenter, one wonders how they managed that. You can keep going back for the aroma and the punch-upon-sipping, but your brain just keeps asking why that’s all there is.

Pink Elephant 'Golden Tusk'
Diary entry #62, Pink Elephant 'Golden Tusk'

Verbatim: Pink Elephant Golden Tusk Special. 15/11/08 $8 @ Malthouse 7.1% 330ml. A special bitter, with punch. Very big nose full of apricots and orangey stonefruits. Taste is pleasantly bitter, but very short. Surprisingly thin for a 7%-er.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: Weirdly, this entry and #63 seem backwards, in the book. There’s all sorts of funny little time-loops going on with the uploading of this Diary thing. It’s beginning to do my head in.

Duchy Originals Ale

Duchy Originals Ale
Duchy Originals Ale

I’ve already said how utterly indifferent I am to the organic fad, so when Prince Charles’ outfit present me with a ‘classic ruby ale’ to try, I’m flooded with conflicting emotions: apathy, curiousness, anti-Monarchism (but I always have that), a desire to not give money to Prince Charles but still to have his beer, and — above all, thirst. My conflict was solved when a customer bought one for me, out of the blue. Nice.

Which is a good word for the beer: nice. It won’t change your life, but it’s solid. Not overly ‘ruby’ for a ‘ruby’ ale, you’d have to say, but it’s a good little quaffer.

Duchy Originals Ale
Diary entry #63, Duchy Originals Ale

Verbatim: Duchy Originals Organic Ale. 14/11/08 $12.5 @ Malthouse. 5.0% 500ml. Shouted by a customer, so my republican cred is intact. An organic ruby ale. Classic English. Don’t give a toss about organic-ness, of course, but this is very pleasant. Quite accessible, I think. Some reviews say its hardcore. Maybe my taste is skewed.

Emerson’s ‘Bookbinder’

Emerson's 'Bookbinder'
Emerson's 'Bookbinder'

Verbatim: Emerson’s ‘Bookbinder’. With a book to read, naturally. Easily one of my favourites, again. (And I’ll have to get another one to photograph, since we’ve just recently gotten in some neat branded Emerson’s glassware. The sacrifices I make.) A classic English-style bitter ale, at session strength. When people come to our bar and are disappointed to learn we don’t have Sassy Red, they leave having met the Bookbinder, and being Better People for it. It’s got assertive, but still mild, hoppiness and maltiness and is just the sort of all-around beery awesomeness that a person could drink until the Universe goes pfft. And I intend to.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: The beer is still a favourite. And so is that book, Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell. That was George’s copy, which I borrowed and absolutely adored. It’s purest genius. And rather oddly and coincidentally, I just finally bought my own copy the day before posting this entry and writing this note. Peculiar.

Founders ‘Generation Ale’

Founders 'Generation Ale'
Founders 'Generation Ale'

Verbatim: Founders Generation Ale. An all-organic brewery, and organic farming/whatever is something about which I could not give a toss. So: no points on for that, from me. But: indifference also means no points off. Provided the beer is good.

And the beer is good. Straight up and down nutty brown ale. Which develops some fairly serious nuttiness (in a good way) by the time you’re done with a half-litre of it. But it’s smooth and satisfying and uncomplicated.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: Founders Brewery is another one of those ones with a strange relationship with the apostrophe. The labels say ‘Duncans Founders Brewery’, which seems to me to need at least one apostrophe, somewhere. Maybe there needs to be a Good Use of Grammar and Punctuation certification regime, like there is for all this organic produce malarky. Since Founders were the first Australasian brewery out of the gate on the organic front (the number is now approximately oodles), maybe they’d be willing to take the lead, here, too.

Renaissance ‘Stonecutter’

Renaissance 'Stonecutter'
Renaissance 'Stonecutter'

Verbatim: Renaissance ‘Stonecutter’ Scotch Ale. Partially because of a long day, partially because it’d go well with sitting and finishing off a couple of books, partially because of the easier-going one I had in Melbourne, and partially because I didn’t yet have a photo of it, I had another one of these. And oh my god do I love it to bits. Absolutely huge malty fruity flavour to it. Big and dark and smooth and a little bit Christmas cakey, it hides its 7% booze worryingly well, and often proves itself surprisingly popular with the “I don’t drink beer” crowd, once we just plonk a taster in front of them and insist they have a go.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: The books, incidentally are, 1) Irreligion, by John Allen Paulos and 2) The Year of Living Biblically by A.J. Jacobs. Both are utterly excellent in their very-different (althought thematically-related) ways. And it’s only just occurred to me that a beer named after the Freemasons-lampooning sect on The Simpsons makes an extra-good accompaniment to such reading material. Aren’t I (accidentally) clever?

Red Hill Scotch Ale

Red Hill Scotch Ale
Red Hill Scotch Ale

Pouring a hazy dark amber with a reddish tint, this surprised me by being a good deal lighter than I was expecting.  It’s nicely fruity and smooth, but stays a bit too ‘small’ in the taste department for me. “Scotch Ale” just makes me expect massive great big fullness, and this doesn’t have it. Labelling aside, though, it’s perfectly tasty after-dinner type stuff.

And by after-dinner on this occasion, we mean after steak tartar, and with barbequed pavlova. Given that insane food-matching challenge, it performed ridiculously admirably.

Red Hill Scotch Ale
Diary entry #58, Red Hill Brewery Scotch Ale

Verbatim: Red Hill Brewery Scotch Ale. 5/10/08 $3.5 @ Markets. A hazy dark amber with reddish tint; so a lot lighter than many others. Much lighter taste, too. Pleasant, but not quite what I expected from the name. Nicely fruity and smooth, but not huge + dark.

Afterthoughts, October 2010: I realised a little while later that my expectations were somewhat confounded by the scotch ale I was most familiar with, Renaissance ‘Stonecutter’, being both abnormally dark and abnormally massive in the flavour department. So this has no labelling problem — and neither does Stonecutter, really; they’re just extreme ends of the style, each.

And damn, I did manage a good little run of beers that day.

Pepperjack Ale

Pepperjack Ale
Pepperjack Ale

There’s the beginnings of a trend towards a wee fusion between beermakers and winemakers, and here’s a good example. Pepperjack is, ordinarily, a Shiraz. Of which I’m quite fond, despite being a Malt Nerd. I haven’t yet found out just how it’s incorporated into their Ale, but it allegedly is. The result is basically a decent straight up-and-down bitter ale. When I’m in that mood, I’d rather a Little Creature’s Rogers, but this can’t really be faulted. Except maybe in marketing terms; it’d probably be a difficult style for “evangelism” to wine drinkers. But maybe that was never really their concern; they’ve made something pretty tasty and pretty interesting and, well, pretty. That’s enough to warrant a tip of our glasses.

Verbatim: Pepperjack Ale. 5/10/08 $3.5 @ Markets. Made with Pepperjack Shiraz, somehow. It doesn’t say. Basically a decent straight up and down bitter ale. Maybe not different enough, for the odd pitching. Not one for evangelising to wine drinkers despite appearance.

Afterthoughts, October 2010: So here I was, sitting at the bar on my night off and tinkering with these things, uploading some more of the backlog. And I’m thinking to myself ‘what to drink?’, when it occurs to me that I have a bottle of this in my personal stash in the fridge. How appropriate. (Many thanks to Glenn, who I used to work with in Melbourne, who grabbed me some Interesting Looking Beers when he came over not long ago.)

On another go, I’m a bigger fan. It’s tasty, more ‘different’ than I remember, and definitely has a shirazzy zing.

Pepperjack Ale
Diary entry #56, Pepperjack Ale
Pepperjack Ale
Pepperjack Ale, two years and two weeks later

Little Creatures ‘Rogers Beer’

Little Creatures 'Rogers Beer'
Little Creatures 'Rogers Beer'

‘Rogers’ is another fantastic session beer, down at 3.8% booze. (Even if it does, like the Cooper’s beers, have apparent apostrophe issues.) It’s a charming ruby brown, with light hoppy- and malty-ness. Sits comfortably beside an Emerson’s Bookbinder, but isn’t so ‘English’ (somehow), as fits the climate of the place it’s made.

Incidentally, Toby is in the background there preparing Steak Tartar, which was a smashing success. And to re-balance the universe after making a meal out of raw steak, he busied his barbeque by making Pavlova on it. Which was, if not a smashing success, at least vastly better than anyone thought it’d be. He’s like some sort of Domestic Mad Scientist.

Little Creatures Rogers
Diary entry #54, Little Creatures Rogers

Verbatim: Little Creatures Roger’s. 5/10/08 $3.5 @ South Melb Markets. Gorgeous sunny day. And a nice basic session beer. At 3.8%, you’d happily drink it all night. Nice ruby brown, light hoppy + maltiness. Akin to a Booky, but not so English.

Afterthoughts, October 2010: Matt Kirkegaard (of BrewsNews.com.au) wrote to inform me that there was more than one Roger, so their seemingly-odd use of the apostrophe is just fine. It’s Rogers plural, not possessive. Since I’m as much Typography Nerd as I am Mad Keen Creatures Fan, that news cheers me greatly.

Fuller’s ‘1845’

Fuller's '1845'
Fuller's '1845'

Verbatim: Fuller’s 1845. Bought for me by a customer at the Malthouse, where I’m now working — not just drinking. And bloody hell is it fantastic. Deliriously smooth, only to explode into an utterly massive malty middle bit (very refreshing when everyone seems to be busting their arse to overhop things, these days), and then a nice mellow afterthing that goes on and on. Full freaking marks, I say.

Afterthoughts, October 2010: As testament to my slackness, even the ‘Lazy entries’ only get their first mention of my new job about a month and a half after it started. The Diary itself only had that fact recorded a little while later.

And to double-demonstrate slackness, I months-later realised that I’d actually had the 1845 some time prior. The customer who bought this for me did so out of shock and empathy for the fact I’d never tried it. I feel a little bad about that, now. But it was a stonkingly good beer. So I don’t feel very bad.

The distaste of extremities in brewing for extremity’s sake that I display here is definitely a continuing theme. I’ve got little time for one-trick ponies and stunt brewing — at least when it tries to pass itself off as the real thing, rather than a stunt. We’ll get to that…

Orkney ‘Skull Splitter’

Orkney 'Skull Splitter'
Orkney 'Skull Splitter'

At last — he says, after a few days of data-entry — we arrive at the bit where the photo-taking habit begins in earnest. It gets a little patchy with the actual Diary for a while, but they’ll soon synch up.

Verbatim: Orkney Skull Splitter. 16/5/08. $10 @ Malthouse 8.5%. Recommended in lieu of a Tangle Foot, out of a selection of a half-dozen. Dark, forboding, warm, seriously boozy nose. Dark fruity stuff. Datey, in a good way. Heavy, but less than you’d think. Deceptive 8.5%. Sweet. Barleywine-ish, says Barguy.

Afterthoughts, October 2010: “Barguy” in this case is Scotty, the Malthouse’s Bar Manager. I had apparently run them out of Tangle Foot, and we were on the hunt for something suitable to have instead. Obviously we drifted miles away, in style terms, but the winning factor here was that Skull Splitter hails from the same island as my beloved Highland Park whisky.

Orkney 'Skull Splitter'
Diary entry #48, Orkney Skull Splitter
Orkney 'Skull Splitter'
Orkney 'Skull Splitter', suitably blurry