Reflections

So it turns out I'm not off the drink at all. Turns out You were right, I was talking rubbish.

Lasted until Monday, when I headed on down to the Print Works in Glasgow to check out the artwork to go with the Williams Brothers venture at Drygate in the city's plush east end. Better beer blog thebeercast did a write up, and so did the Creative Review. I thought the artworks were brilliant, mostly. The lager good; the IPA fantastic; and the apple ale ... well, it wasn't for me.

Anyhow, guess what! Turns out I'm really not off the drink at all whatsoever. Thursday I headed down to Stereo which was once a top pub in the west end that did a fabby night called Dub and Grub, which was just that. This Stereo's near Central Station but has a cool, hipster vibe. I noised up the poor barman and tried some naff celebrity I-Ken-You chat with boardgame geek and comedian Rab Florence.

And guess what! Turns out I ain't off the homebrew either. Right now I'm drinking my very last Reflection, the third beer I ever made and until V for Victory, the best. I think it's gone off a bit but it's still a solid pint. Bit twangy, yet still carries loads of flavour. Reflection was the brew that made me realise how easy it is to brew it yourself. And I kinda love it for that.

Anyhow, guess what! Turns out I ain't off the homebrewing at all. As I'm writing this I've a can of Cooper's Light Malt Extract bubbling away with a whole load of Cascade hops. Have been for almost 45 minutes. Once done I'm going to cool it quickly in a cold bath then add it to a Cooper's Premium IPA, my first (flawed) kit. I'm going to throw in some Liberty hops for the fermentation too. That'll (hopefully) give it plenty of flavour and aroma, while the boiled up Cascade will (hopefully) have upped the bitterness substantially. Wasn't the original plan, but I stumbled into the homebrew store Inn House Brewery and met Scott Williams, gave him some naff celebrity I-Dinnae- Ken-You chat then nodded sagaciously while he talked about isomerisation, the meaning of which I know not. Also got to see the very, very funky labels from the Drygate brewery I mentioned at the start of this post which brings me nicely to the end of this post cause that's my 45 minutes up.




 
 

Four star review of Profanity Stout

View from the Flod, with the ghosts of beer past and present.

I ****ing love Williams Bros of Alloa. For me, they're the stars of the Scottish brewing world. All four of them.

I can mind, ****ing years ago, when I was a barman at the Flodigarry Hotel in Skye, the night one of their guys turned up with a vanload of Fraoch Heather Ale. It was a new thing, kind of, and I think the Williams boy was just touring the islands, punting it to hotels and bars as he went on his wonderful west coast odyssey.

We only took three cases, for starters. Or maybe that's the most we could take. Anyway, they were gone a few hours later, mostly cause my friend Gus MacQueen, a ****ing wild Skye man, took a dangerous liking to the ****ing heather ale.

In the almost 20 years since, Williams have ballooned and Heather Ale sells globally, but I've not seen any of my friends the MacQueen brothers for a decade or so. Time, the auld enemy. Doesn't stand still for no ****.

[I will get to the ****ing beer review, just show a bit of ****ing respect, for ****'s sake. Or, if you've really no patience, just click here.] 

Flodigarry in Staffin was where I learnt to drink whisky, where I learnt how blindingly ****ing stupid it is to try to match Skye folk pint for pint, nip for nip, and where charging 15p for dashes of coke or lemonade is morally ****ing wrong, and it makes you a ****.

Anyway, that time when the Heather Ale hit, the MacQueens and me - a post-work half-bottle in - took a midnight stomp up the Quiraing to catch the sunrise. We climbed up through the low cloud and watched the sun rise through this sea of coloured cloud; the velvet peaks of the Trotternish ridge rising through the red and yellow, orange and purple. We scree-ran down from this magnificence and back to their croft for a ****ing awesome breakfast. 

Sadly, the Flod isn't what it used to be. Last time I was there, the worn, wooden benches and tatty cushions had been replaced by metal garden chairs. Gone was the wild, wilderness pub I once loved, turned into a ****ing soulless bistro. Haven't been back since.

But I'd like to think the ****wit owner's seen the light or ****ed off, that the bar is once again a proper bar, that this proper bar still remembers its auld links to Williams Bros, and that my friends the MacQueens Bros are in there, dropping whisky bombs into pints of draught Double Joker IPA or necking bottles of the ****ing magical Profanity Stout. 

I like pretty much all of Williams Bros beer, but for me, the darker and stronger the better. And they don't come much darker or stronger than Profanity Stout.

With the cap off, the smell of sweet hops and coffee rolled off the roasted malt aroma, and it poured like black coffee. On the taste, you get coffee and plums, a velvety bitterness that's balanced finely with the sweet malts.

A splendid, splendid drink. Gets four stars. Would hoppily have again.

Number munching

78's set list was brought to you by the Letter J

There's a pub in Glasgow called The 78. You'd like it. It's got a fire, dark wooden tables, long sociable benches and a clutch of quality ales on tap. It's also one of the few havens for hungry vegans.

I went there on Wednesday for pints and again today for food. 

On tap they had the Williams lager, which is better than most, and the wonderful Joker, one of the finest IPAs kicking about on draft. Also on offer was Cock o' the Walk and the delicious Seven Giraffes. 

But on Wednesdays the 78 also hosts an open mic night. Like any of these nights, it's a complete mixed bag but the chilled, friendly atmosphere of 78 keeps it cool. List of performers was dominated by the letter J weirdly. Next week, if you're a Kevin, Kriss or Katrina you need to get along there. 

The impromptu end-of-the-night singalong was the standout performance of the night though. Couple of guitars, beat box, singers and a mighty tambourine made for a pleasant alternative to 'can you start drinking up please'. Hopefully this'll be more than a one-off. 

Today we went along for lunch. Had a quesadillas, which was nice enough though not as good as the ones my brother in law does. My wife had the burger. It was pretty tasty and she wrote about it here. 

Bold Engine Oil

Old Engine Oil porter

The mighty Harviestoun celebrates its 30th birthday this year, kicking into touch the notion that the rise of craft beer is a recent fad or trend. Over the years and in various forms, Harviestoun's Bitter & Twisted blonde and Schiehallion lager have had praise and awards poured upon them. Pretty sure my first craft ale was a B&T, or possibly one of Williams' Fraoch.

Over the decades, Harviestoun has grown out of a shed and in and out of a barn and into a purpose-built brewery that is now too small for them. They've been taken over by Caledonian Breweries and sold off - thankfully - by Heineken. Just shows you where a brewing kit and a shed can take you. 

Anyhow, B&T and Schiehallion's younger sister is Old Engine Oil, a dark brooding porter (6%) that fits snuggly onto Harviestoun's expanding bottling line.

It's a potent, chewy and tangy porter that pours dark with a thick, pale caramel head. On the taste, sweet roasted chocolate-cherry touches of the Black Forest. Hints of yeasty liquorice too. Hops include British stalwarts Fuggles and East Goldings, bringing out that earthy sweetness, with the Galena providing an enjoyable bitter kick. Has a pleasantly smooth texture with a bitter, quenching aftertaste. 

I prefer my porter's on the smokey side, but this was delicious. Would hoppily have again.

A Dry January? No Joker

It's January 1st. New Year's Day, 2013. Happy new year!

This day two years ago I gave up boozing for a month. A whole month. January has 31 days by the way. Thirty-one long days.

In truth, aside from one hideous networking event I had to attend and couldn't hide myself in drunken oblivion, it was fine. In fact, by February, I felt pretty damn amazing.

So, once again, for January, I'm abstaining from beer, wine and whisky. No joke, nor any Joker IPA until February. That's 31 days. Thirty-one long days.

I pretty much adore all of Williams Brothers' beers, but their Joker IPA was one I'd somehow missed ... until I unwrapped my present from my daughter on Christmas Day.

It's a fine, fruity IPA that's packed with flavour. A pleasant, citrus sweetness, with malty and hoppy goodness. Complex and delicious. In all honestly, I think I preferred the Alechemy Cairnapple IPA, but the difference in enjoyment was marginal.

Would very hoppily have again.