Tag Archives: Lager

Kaiapoi Draught

Kaipoi Draught
Diary entry #83, Kaipoi Draught

Oh, I’m so sad I entirely lost the photo for this… this, thing. It turns out I never even added it to my ‘Beer Nerd Diaries’ on Facebook, back when that the world’s window into my beerbrain. Perhaps I was just embarrassed.

(I’m only slightly sad that I apparently can’t spell Kaiapoi, even when the beer label was staring me in the phiz. I’ve long since comes to terms with that fact that, for a Trivia Nerd, my New Zealand Geography is relatively rubbish.)

A case of this arrived with the traditional Massive Swag of Stuff before the beer festival in August, and a good many of these were still in the fridge six months later. Perhaps owing to the laughably-homebrewish label that I so very much wish I could show you. It was a beer from another time, it seemed, one when ‘No Added Sugar’ was something worth bragging about rather than a minimum condition for the merest scrap of credibility.

Malthouse blackboard, my birthday
The Malthouse blackboard, on my birthday, indicating my apparently-preferred Draught

It smelt utterly awful, and tasting alarmingly… nothing. One really does wonder how they managed that. Or, indeed, why. Two local boys were over the moon to see that we stocked it, but had the dignity to have that classic hometown combination of embarrassment and pride as they insisted Peter and I try it. I’m glad we did, because I’m just that much of a masochist / empiricist, but honestly, I’d rather a Tui,1 if I ever found myself in the mood for something of the style.

Verbatim: Kaipoi Draught 25/3/09 nicked from Malty 330ml Been in the fridge since Beerfest in September. Two boys from Kaipoi insisted we try. Smells like arse, or silage. Doesn’t taste too bad, because not much at all. “No added sugar” and all that sad branding. And “draught”. Hrmph. What a word in need of retirement.


1: A few months later, some mischievous staff — on the occasion of my 30th birthday, and of DB winning an award in their class for it — amended my “Staff Pick” on the Big Blackboard to Tui. I decided just to own it, and insist that people actually give it a go, for its historical oddness.

Birra Moretti ‘La Rossa’, again

Birra Moretti 'La Rossa'
Birra Moretti 'La Rossa'

We were out for a surprise birthday dinner for Robyn’s 30th, where I got to play beer nerd / consultant, and couldn’t resist another La Rossa — especially since they had the cute little glass.

Afterthoughts, February 2011: This was a great little night out, and one of the unexpected benefits was meeting Jessie and Simon, two friends who have since hooked me up with several good beer recommendations and joined me for some enjoyable Rambling Time. Jessie’s from California, within “crawling distance” (as she puts it) of the Sierra Nevada brewery. So I’m going to run a bit of a Local Stuff Beer Tasting for her family (including her apparently-formidably Beer Nerdy father) when they’re in town later this month.

The lesson is this: you do meet good people when you let yourself geek out. Be not afraid to let your nerdlight shine, fellow nerds.

Birra Moretti ‘La Rossa’

Birra Moretti 'La Rossa'
Birra Moretti 'La Rossa'

This was one of the original beers in the famous chilly bin that George gave me. I remember being hugely impressed, and so leapt at a recent chance for another.

It’s a gorgeously-coloured strong Italian(!) doppelbock. It’s a sweet, caramelly, stupidly drinkable thing for 7.2%, with a nice little hoppy zing on the back end. I’ve just discovered it’s actually brewed by Heineken (and was when I first had it), so I feel morally peculiar, but I’m still a big fan.

Oh, and yes. That is indeed a chippie sandwich in the background. I am a Master Mongrelistic Beer & Food Matcher

Birra Moretti 'La Rossa'
Unnumbered diary entry, Birra Moretti 'La Rossa'

Verbatim: Having another go at La Rossa. (20/1/09) It’s a strong Italian doppelbock. Sweet and caramelly, absurdly drinkable for 7.2%. Nice late hoppy zing to it, too. Even better than I remembered.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: My numbering system for what counted as a ‘proper’ Diary entry, and what was just an unnumbered note is pretty seriously idiosyncratic. Sufficiently so that I have no idea, now, what it was then. I was probably thinking that since this was a re-sampling of something already-noted, it didn’t need a full entry again. But in fairly short order, I’ll go on to break that ‘rule’ — if that was indeed the ‘rule’ I had in mind. It’s not that I’m fickle; I just have a terrible memory, sometimes.

Three Boys Pils

Three Boys Pils
Three Boys Pils

A keg of this arrived at work, so I gave it another go, and was grateful I did. It will taste a little different off tap, of course — but my last try of it was also after a long day of dark beers; not the best sampling conditions. It’s fresher and less blunt than I remember, but still very much drier and punchier than the traditional after-work Tuatara Pilsner. That said, I still find it nicely smooth and refreshing.

Verbatim: Three Boys Pils. 17/1/09 $9 at work 425ml 5.5%. On tap, briefly. And I’m liking it a whole lot better. Fresher, less blunt Steinlagery nose to it. Very much drier than a Tuatara, but still smooth + refreshing.

Three Boys Pils
Diary entry #74, Three Boys Pils

Afterthoughts, November 2010: And herein lies a good lesson about tasting beers; try not to do too many at once, and pay a lot of attention to what you’ve just been having before you had the thing you’re trying. These cross-pint effects are huge, with beer, I find.

Which makes for another reason why a proper Beer Nerd will take ages to answer the usual “What’s your favourite beer?” question, if they answer it at all, rather than simply objecting to its terms. Favourite for what? For when? When I’m drinking what else? When I’m eating what? When the weather is how? If I’m planning on having how many? Be very suspicious of anyone with a predictable, perennial pint; they’re probably not a Proper Nerd.

Invercargill ‘Biman’

Invercargill 'Biman'
Invercargill 'Biman'

Although winner of its class at the relatively-recent Beer Festival here in town, I hadn’t gotten around to trying one. And damn, was I missing out. It’s genuinely fantastic. Originally (the story goes) brewed to go with the food from the curry house near the brewery (hence the name), it’ll give people who dismiss lagers as uninteresting something to think about. It’s got light fruity flavours swimming around in it — a limey citrusiness, passionfruit, and even a suitable drift of mango — but they’re only there through clever choices of malts and hops; no cheating additions of fruit juice or whatnot. It’s nicely dry and crisp, and would indeed go gangbusters with a curry.

Invercargill 'Biman'
Diary entry #73, Invercargill 'Biman'

Verbatim: Invercargill ‘Biman’. 17/1/09 $8 at work. 330ml 5.2%. Golden lager, made to match the curry at the place near the brewery. Fruity, but only through Cleverness. No cheating. Citrusy, and with suitable mangoness in there. Quite dry, and crisp. Would indeed be magic w/ curry.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: To quote the brewery’s website: “In 2009, in an attempt to clarify pronunciation, the beer was rebranded, B.man.” To my mind, that’s sad. Not because there’s one too-many commas — I’m definitely not in a position to judge about comma overuse — but because of the running-away in the face of the fairly predictable shall-we-say ‘sexuality-based’ mockery the actual spelling attracted. ‘Biman’ is the name of the man who ran the curry-house which inspired the beer. To hell with the cavemen and their lame humour; stick with the actual inspiration.

Croucher Pilsner

Croucher Pilsner
Croucher Pilsner

We’d been lucky enough to have this and the Pale (which is further back in the Diaries) on tap at work once, so I already knew I was a fan of this, and it seemed like the perfect consolatory beer after a bit of a Day. It’s lovely, really. (They also do a ‘Hef’ wheat beer, which is decent, and good for evangelism; a Gateway wheat, really — I prefer mine a bit more full-on.) It’s got a blunter, more bitter hoppy nose to it than the ubiquitous Tuatara Pilsner, but actually opens into a lighter, fruitier flavour. Lusciously smooth, where other pilses tend crisp.

Croucher Pilsner
Diary entry #71, Croucher Pilsner

Verbatim: Croucher Pilsner. 13/1/09 $3 330ml 5% at home. Another one of those days. Compensatory beer. Had it on tap at work before, and I’m a big fan. As opp. a Tuatara, it’s got a blunter, bitterer hoppy nose, but a lighter, fruitier flavour. Lusciously smooth.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: I lived at this place on Willis Street just briefly — between my Terrace apartment and my house on Mount Victoria — and while it was nice in its own way, it was very difficult to take good beer photography in. Just something weird about the lighting. Though that strange Freemasonry building in the background does come out looking unfairly good.

Twisted Hop ‘Sauvin’ Pilsner

Twisted Hop 'Sauvin' Pilsner
Twisted Hop 'Sauvin' Pilsner

Brother and stable-mate of the previous IPA, and further magic out of the usually-all-bad city of Christchurch. It’s a very different sort of a pilsner, and as such might not be liked by people who are regulars to a pint of the (perfectly good) Tuatara Pilsner or whatnot. But I loved it to bits. It’s got a hugely grapey opening, which (I am reliably informed) is a signature of the Nelson Sauvin hops — them that showed up as the golden-kiwifruitiness of the (utterly adorable) Three Boys Golden Ale. It’s long and complex, and totally refreshing at the same time. With that white-winey-ness, it strikes me as being like a gruntified Emerson’s Pilsner.

Twisted Hop 'Sauvin' Pils
Diary entry #68, Twisted Hop 'Sauvin' Pils

Verbatim: Twisted Hop Sauvin Pilsner. 29/12/08 $8 @ work 5%. The brother of the IPA above. And further magic. Hugely grapey opening, which Olly says is a Sauvin trait. It’s long and complex, but still totally refreshing. Like a gruntified Emerson’s Pils, brewed with foot firm on the gas.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: This really would come close, if the data were ever examined, to being the all-time, all-round, all-staff Malthouse favourite. We positively zip through this stuff when we’ve managed to wrangle a keg or two; and probably half the sales are directly to the staff. It’s just so delicious, so different, and so refreshing.

Dux de Lux ‘Sou’wester’ Stout & Three Boys Pils

Dux de Lux Souwester & Three Boys Pils
Dux de Lux Souwester & Three Boys Pils

Verbatim: Dux de Lux ‘Sou’wester’ Stout. The Dux was nominated in the “Best Pub” category this year at the bar awards, and so was a certain little pub in which this photograph was taken. But the Dux won. And they brew. Fairly well. The Stout isn’t nearly as smooth as the Emerson’s or the Pitch Black; it’s a lot ‘livelier’ where the other two (especially the Emerson’s) go silky. This may well be Your Thing. It’s not quite mine.

And Three Boys Pils. A not-well-enough-known microbrewery from Christchurch (and so a fellow survivor of that Blight on the Universe, with Dux de Lux), and home to a similar range of uniformly better beers, I say. The Pils is a solid lager offering, with a good deal more presence and punch — and altogether more Interestingness than Dux Lager (just for instance). Closer to the lagers most people are used to than the Emerson’s would be, but conspicuously head, shoulders, and Big Tall Green Bottle above the Heinekens and Steinlagers of the fridge.

Emerson’s Pilsner

Emerson's Pilsner
Emerson's Pilsner

Verbatim: Emerson’s Pilsner. The other organic offering from Emerson’s (together with the previously-noted Oatmeal Stout) so they made something of a nice pair as First Drinks for George and I, having installed ourselves early in the pub.

The Pils is a slightly-hazy glowing gold, with a very white-winey kind of a feel to it; nice and complex, drawn-out flavours. Not as sharp or as dry as a pilsner might often be, but in this case, all the better for it.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: Very rare, even for a ‘Lazy Facebook diary entry’ that I’d take a snap and have a wee ramble about someone else’s beer. But there you have it. I guess it was out of pure enthusiasm for this delicious stuff. I hope you understand.

Harrington’s ‘Big John Special Reserve’

Harrington's 'Big John Special Reserve'
Harrington's 'Big John Special Reserve'

Verbatim: Harrington’s ‘Big John’ Special Reserve. Something relatively random that George apparently forgot he’d picked up somewhere along the way. It’s a strong dark ale, matured in Bourbon barrels. As you can see, it pours with quite enthusiastic bubbles, and they definitely hold a very strong whiskey nose. Almost disconcertingly so; it just smells like a big glass of that, rather than beer. But the taste is refreshingly beery, and very smooth. Nice maltiness, chocolate roastiness, and a bit of a caramelly kick — like a great big melted Toffee Pop. Soaked in whiskey.

Afterthoughts, November 2010: From memory, the ‘Special Reserve’ bit came from the fact this was actually Bourbon barrel aged; the regular stuff is Bourbon infused, methinks. And it’s another great example of how some beers are tricky to pick, in terms of their official style. The RateBeer.com nerds have the former as a Scotch Ale and the latter as a Dunkler Bock. If I had to put a sum of my own money on it (or, more to the point, if I had to tag a blogpost one way on the other), I’d think the Bock guess was right; the body and the finish seem more lagery than aley, but we’re in pretty stab-in-the-dark territory here, I’ll freely admit.