Tag Archives: from Australia

William Bull ‘Red Angus’ Pilsener

William Bull 'Red Angus' Pilsener
William Bull 'Red Angus' Pilsener

There is a particular joy in trying a beer you’ve never heard of before; you’re totally free from expectations. But that does also often give you a moment of extra pause, in case you ’embarrassingly’ wind up liking something that’s not well regarded. I try to resist that, though, since I prefer to emphasise subjectivity and situation as key bits of the beer-drinking experience.

Anyhow, this stuff was rather charming on a sunny day that I’d filled up with mooching in the sun and riding my bike. It was part of a small set of beers that my friend Glenn had luggaged over (as he’s done before, bless him) from Australia when he was in town for work. Despite being something of an Honorary Australian, it was totally unfamiliar to me, and I was pleasantly taken aback by first the odd name, then the somewhat-peculiar label — then the bloody-lovely hazy golden colour, after which followed an inviting-enough (fruity and slightly spicy) aroma, and finally a nicely rounded-out thirst quenching little lager. I still have no real idea how it’s perceived over in the Big Country, but I think it’s totally worth a go — interesting enough to stand apart, but not an excercise in foot-shooting difference for difference’s sake. The label certainly over-enthuses about how unique it is, but that’s a sad fact about marketing these days, more than anything else.

William Bull 'Red Angus' Pilsener
Diary II entry #38, William Bull 'Red Angus' Pilsener

Verbatim: William Bull ‘Red Angus’ Pilsener 30/11/10 at home, gift from Glenn — another mulement! 345ml 4.8% Very odd label, somehow, and a weird slogan: “pure grain fed beer”. 5 malted grains — taste and texture suggest we’re not only talking barley. Which does keep things interesting, but also lends a somewhat ‘homebrewy’ side. It’s a pleasant hazy straw gold; though the nose isn’t as “wild” as billed, the fruit + spice nudges are there. Certainly not bad, and interesting enough to be going on with. Meanwhile, it definitely seems that summer’s arrived. So this suits a day of mooching + biking very well.

Mountain Goat ‘Hightail’ Ale

Mountain Goat 'Hightail' Ale
Mountain Goat 'Hightail' Ale

The New World supermarkets in Wellington are surprisingly-good places to find some seriously out-of-the-way beers. Amanda, one of our bartenders at work, was at their Thorndon store, found this, and generously split it with me. I was pretty damn chuffed; my particular fondness for good Australian beer is pretty well-known at work, and we had this one in particular as a random guest after the beer festival last year. It’s just uncomplicatedly delightful; rich and malty and balanced and plain yum.

As I promised myself in my notes, I did indeed bike there the next day, and came home with a backpack heavy with goodies:

Given the preponderance of heavy-hitters in there, it was pushing fifty bucks for the set. When I was putting them into a ‘Philbert’s Stash’ box in the fridge, Peter and I couldn’t help but notice that all of those breweries were named after animals — and that there was a distinctly canine trend among them. I guess there’s something totemistic about animal names, and they do make for easy logos.

Mountain Goat 'Hightail' Ale
Diary II entry #20, Mountain Goat 'Hightail' Ale

Verbatim: Mountain Goat ‘Hightail’ Ale 1/10/10 $? @ NW Thorndon, found by Amanda, who generously split it. 4.5% 330ml. I’m heading there on me bike tomorrow. MFing MG, man! Just as I remember it. Rich and malty and yum.


1: Tragically, I never got to enjoy this one. It was smashed in a unfortunate cascade of bottles in the chiller at work, one night. Godsdamn gravity.

White Rabbit ‘Dark Ale’

White Rabbit 'Dark Ale'
White Rabbit 'Dark Ale'

I have to explain to people sometimes, at work, that if I compare something to Little Creatures Pale Ale, then I think that thing is a very good thing indeed. So I was curious to try something from White Rabbit, a new-ish operation outside of my beloved Melbourne, and sort of East Coast Cousin to the famous Creatures.

But when we had this at our stand at Beervana in August, I was a little meh about it. It was something of a misunderstood orphan, really. Unlike the Stone & Wood, Bridge Road and Coopers beers we had, the Rabbit didn’t have anyone from the brewery over to talk about it — and the name threw us locals a bit, too; by “Dark Ale”, they mean Brown Ale rather than anything Portery, or further South.1

In between having it at Beervana and having it on tap at work, my friend Glenn (a former colleague at the College of Surgeons in Melbourne) was in town and muled over a few interesting-looking bottles of beer for me, in what is becoming a neat little tradition (he’s repaid in Tour Guidery around Wellington’s Interesting Little Places). One of these was included, so I gave it another go. And was glad I did.

White Rabbit 'Dark Ale'
Diary II entry #17.1, White Rabbit 'Dark Ale'

Especially once you’re not expecting anything dark-dark (expectations can really do funny things to how you taste a beer), it presents itself as pleasantly rich but still nicely easy-drinking. Lots of malt character, and a interesting little sideline of a certain sort of mustiness and a subtle fruity wineyness. This bottle was almost-alarmingly sedimented, which also leant a nice big smooth layer of foam. It was interestingly-divisive, on tap at work; much of the Beer Nerdy crowd didn’t really go for it, but it was surprisingly good (given their usual prejudices against Australian beer and things darker than gold) at winning over more ‘mainstream’ drinkers. I do always enjoy stumbling upon effective ‘evangelism’ beers; seeing people have that ‘wow, this is tasty’ moment when you give them something that goes against their preconceptions is a very rewarding thing, as a bartending Beer Nerd.

White Rabbit 'Dark Ale'
Diary II entry #17.2, White Rabbit 'Dark Ale'

Verbatim: White Rabbit ‘Dark Ale’ 30/9/10 muled over by Glenn 4.9% 330ml From memory, this is Little Creatures’ baby brother in Healesville, outside the beloved Melb. We had it at our stand at the Beer Festival, but it was a bit of a misunderstood orphan, as none of its people were over. I was a little meh about it, but I think the name threw my expectations — it’s really a brown ale, and as one, is rather good. Quite rich but still very easy, a little musty and a little winey. Seems to be a national thing; Moo Brew’s ‘Dark Ale’ was also a Brown. Not a lot of Aussie Porter… maybe it’s just usually too fucking hot. I should’ve said MOO BREW ‘DARK ALE’. I’m not good at making new habits.2 This is definitely growing on me. The head is particularly impressive — big + smooth + resurrectable. (There was an almost-worrying amount of sediment in the bottle; that’ll help.)


1: This might be (or might be beginning to be) an Australian Thing; Moo Brew do it too with their ‘Dark Ale’. Maybe it’s just almost always Too Damn Hot for anything blacker and heavier — though of course, the delectable Coopers ‘Best Extra Stout’ is an obvious counter-example.

2: Perhaps I should explain why I chastise myself for not writing in capitals (here, as once before). They’re kind of like little visual hyperlinks, so that I can more-readily see what entries talk about other entries, basically. Things got quite hard to navigate with 300+ entries in Diary I — though I was still capable of occasional Rain Man-esque feats of spookiness like turning instantly to the page that contained the more-than-a-year-ago diary entry for Stone & Wood’s (delicious) ‘Draught Ale’ when Brad from the brewery saw my book and asked if his beer was in there…


Coopers Original Pale Ale

Coopers Pale Ale
Coopers Pale Ale, signed

This entry from Diary II is unique (so far), in that it contains absolutely no tasting notes. Coopers bloody-lovely Pale is something I’ve had umpteen times before, but had never given its own entry; the Diaries were never about recommendations for other people, originally, and I knew this well enough that I didn’t need to write about it.

And then, Dr. Tim Cooper himself — the latest heir to take the reins of the brewery — paid our little country, our little town, and our little pub a visit. My first proper bar-tender geek-out was when Richard Emerson — another heir to another eponymous brewery — visited the Malthouse on one of my first few shifts. I’ve had a few such borderline-fanboy reactions to meeting other beer industry folk since, but none as acute as this, for a while.1

Tim was in town for a bit of a shindig to celebrate the new-ish mass-importing of his beers into the Little Country; we’ve had several kegs of Sparkling, Vintage and Stout on tap already. And he seems to be an utterly lovely chap. A semi-regular customer — a Suit who is occasionally-bothersome, but harmless enough — insisted on shouting a round, and Dr. Cooper elected for a Pale (apparently his favourite go-to of their range), so I joined him, and then revelled in my unashamed nerdery by asking him to sign the bottle.

Coopers Original Pale Ale
Diary II entry #14, Coopers Original Pale Ale

Verbatim: Coopers Original Pale Ale 23/9/10 at work, bought by the same random occasionally-bothersome suit who shouted the above. (And I do mean ‘shouted’.) This round was precipitated by the appearance of Dr. Tim Cooper himself. There was a bit of a do for the new imports and such. And he seems like an utterly lovely chap. He picked one of these for his in this round, so I joined him, then wrote this, obviously. And just as I was thinking a photo would be lame, I got him to sign my bottle. Now that makes for a photo opportunity. [Heh; no tasting notes.]


1: The pairing is really rather apt. Emerson’s Bookbinder was probably my first proper local microbrew; Coopers Sparkling was my first Australian — and both are members of my All Time Favourites and were therefore written-up together for my contribution to the Malthouse Beer Blog. Coopers & Emerson’s would also have to be acknowledged as leading the proper-brewing trends in their respective countries — though the former takes the gong by a hundred years, and the latter makes up for tardiness by being much more experimental.


My entry for the People’s Blog

The weekly blog on the Malthouse’s website has a semi-regular feature called ‘The People’s Blog’, where regulars and hangers-on and (occasionally) staff are invited to / dragooned into writing a little blab about their “two favourite Malthouse beers”. I was one of the “volunteers” for the second edition of that, and so this probably rates as my earliest, most-official piece of Rambling About Beer:

It’s chronically unfair to ask me for my “two favourite” Malthouse beers since I’m a fairly fickle and promiscuous drinker with tastes that vary pretty wildly depending on the weather, the plan for the evening (or morning…), what my previous beer was and general whims.  But okay. Let’s play along and pick two enduring favourites, at least.

Emerson’s Bookbinder (Dunedin, 3.7%). Absurdly flavourful for its moderate weight, Booky serves brilliantly as an after-work restorative (and actual book-binding is damn hard work, I can assure you) or as a sessionable fuel for long hours of talking nonsense with friends and generally laughing asses off – which won’t leave you too blurry in the small hours, or too hungover the day after.  It’s a reminder that, if you’re clever enough, you don’t have to climb to boozy heights to make a tasty beer, and that often there’s merit to be had for finding that perfect balance between your malts and your hops.  Both factors run nicely contrary to some frequently-silly fashions, and are worth celebrating.  So raise a glass.  Then another.

Cooper’s Sparkling Ale (Adelaide, 5.8%).  My first good Australian beer, upon which I luckily stumbled while beer-shopping for an Australia Day while off at university in a forty-degree Canberra summer. Hardly “sessionable” at 5.8% (not that that stopped me…) but a truly gorgeous golden ale with a wonderfully easy, fruity, lively and lingering taste that can be a great way to ease lagerheads into other styles, or to bring those who don’t consider themselves “beer drinkers” (maybe because lagerheads just offer them lager…) into the fold.

With its optional ritual of rolling the bottle to kick up the sediment, it’s also a great introduction to the joys of natural, unfiltered, bottle-conditioned (and so, arguably, “real”) beer.  It’s effortlessly delicious.

Continue reading My entry for the People’s Blog

3 Ravens 55

3 Ravens 55
3 Ravens '55'

3 Ravens 55 American Pale Ale. “55” because of five hops and five grains, apparently — and first made for the occasion of their fifth birthday as a brewery. It’s made from barley, corn, wheat, oats and rye — which makes me want to say that it feels more “American” at the expense of being less “American Pale Ale”. The grains do make for a really nice mix and a good full body, but they’re driving very much more than the lively American hops you’d usually expect. Possibly another case of peculiar branding of a beer that’s doing what it is doing very nicely, whatever it’s called.

3 Ravens 55
Diary entry #61, 3 Ravens '55

Verbatim: 3 Ravens ’55 American Pale Ale. 7/10/08 $3.5 @ Markets 5.5%. 5 hops + 5 grains (Barley, Corn, Wheat, Oats + Rye), so more American, but less APA: not hugely hoppy in the nose again. The grains make a nice mix, but drive more than the floral hops. Maybe our NZ hops are distorting our PAs. (Bottle cond.)

Afterthoughts, November 2010: This borderline-numerology stuff does crop a bit in brewing circles, actually. It seems a common trope to jig the number of ingredients, or the ABV, or IBU, or something to match some relevant number. I suppose that just shows you that obsessiveness and nerdery are common traits among craft brewers. And that’s got to be a good thing.

Meanwhile, that’s a terribly-focussed photo. The two strong beers previous must’ve blunted either my ability or my perfectionism, or both.

Malt Shovel / New Norcia Abbey Ale

Malt Shovel Abbey Ale
Malt Shovel / New Norcia Abbey Ale

Another recommendation from the guy in the markets, and he’s two for two. Which also backs up my earlier praise for the James Squires people. Fairly heavy at 7%, it’s a very appealing golden amber, and smells utterly gorgeous — all flowery, fruity and citrusy. The taste is fresh, with a slight metallic zing (not in a bad way, like you get in a Becks or whatnot), and has apricotty and grassy flavours kicking around in there. Toby compares it (favourably) to wandering around a sunny field, chewing on wheat. And I’m fairly sure I’ve been to the monastery where it’s matured, in New Norcia, WA — Karen and I drove past it on our way up to her family’s farm for her birthday party, methinks. (A quick look at Google Maps left me feeling able to upgrade from the “I think” in the paper diary to an “I’m fairly sure”.)

Malt Shovel Abbey Ale
Diary entry #60, Malt Shovel Abbey Ale

Verbatim: Malt Shovel Abbey Ale. 7/10/08 $4 @ Markets 7%. Another recommendation. And M.S. = James Squire’s. Smells gorgeous; flowery, fruity, citrusy. Nice golden amber. Tastes fresh, with non-bad metal, apricotty, grassy. Like chewing wheat. And I think I’ve been to the monastery in New Norcia, WA.

Jamieson ‘Beast’ IPA

Jamieson 'Beast' IPA
Jamieson 'Beast' IPA

These guys are a popular “little” Victorian brewery, but I was distinctly underwhelmed when I tried their stuff during my years in Melbourne. This bottle in particular, though, was recommended by the guy in the South Melbourne Markets. Actually, he didn’t so much recommend as insist. And took care to apologise on their behalf for the utterly hideous label. Godawful packaging, great beer, he promised. And damn, was he right. Pouring a nice, slightly cloudy amber, it doesn’t have a hugely hoppy nose but that’s because they’re all hiding in the taste. Which is good and big, with stonefruity bits all over the place. And it weighs in at 7% booze, so it earns its name, as well as excuses its own ugly bottle.

Jamieson 'Beast' IPA
Diary entry #59, Jamieson Beast IPA

Verbatim: Jamieson ‘Beast’ IPA. 7/10/08 $3.5 @ Markets 7%. Recommended by the Swords guy. Hideous label, great beer, he said. Nice slightly cloudy amber. Not a hugely hoppy nose, but it’s all in the mouth. With stonefruity bits all over the show, too. Big + grunty. So excuses/earns the label/name.

Afterthoughts, October 2010: Yeah, yeah; books, covers, trite moral lessons. All learned, don’t worry about that.

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.

Knappstein Reserve Lager

Knappstein 'Reserve' Lager
Knappstein 'Reserve' Lager

Another winemaker’s beer. And this one seems much more of a go, marketing-wise (in that somewhat-tragic but totally-understandable way that more ‘normal’ / less ‘interesting’ beers are often more marketable).

It’s a very clean lager, like a lighter version of the ‘Weka’ by Moa Breweries (itself another winemaker-offshoot). A little too thin for my liking, but perfectly well-made. These things do make for a good way to begin an evangelism effort — the flavour won’t freak anyone out, and you’re miles better off having one of these than something daft like Heineken — and at least it gets some people over that first hurdle of actually trying things from places they’ve never heard of before.

Knappstein Reserve Lager
Diary entry #57, Knappstein Reserve Lager

Verbatim: Knappstein Reserve Lager. 5/10/08 $3.5 @ Markets. Another winemakers beer. Very pale lager, with vanishy bubbles. Very clean lager, a la Weka by Moa. Better for evangelism, but a bit too thin for my liking