Brew Eight - A Black Beast

Today I put on my eighth brew. No name yet, no label - they'll come with the tasting in five or six weeks' time. But I can tell you what I started with, what I did, and where I hope I'll end up.

Here goes:

I wanted to build on the success of my fifth brew, V for Victory, which really was splendid (though it lacked carbonation). I made that using a Cooper's Stout kit, mixed with a can of Cooper's Amber Malt Extract, a cup of damn strong black coffee and about a litre of liberty hop tea. This time around I wanted to experiment just a little bit more.

I stuck with the Cooper's Stout kit again, but this time bought a tin of Dark Malt Extract, which I added to 10 litres of boiling water. Mixed it quickly so the extract wouldn't sink to the bottom and burn. Once it was rolling I added about 40 grammes of Cascade hops and set the alarm for 30 minutes. Cooked up some damn strong coffee, and drank a cup of tea.

When the alarm went I chucked in 30g of Liberty hops, and gave the mix another quarter of an hour. I used wee bags for the hops, which are a wee bit like tubigribs but without the tension, dude. They make it so much easier to strain, and you get less debris in your wort. Tights are a good alternative ...

When the timer went I carefully carried this massive and weighty pot to the bath, which was filled with cold water. There was a fair bit of steam and angry water action going on. Exciting. Key thing here was to cool the mix quickly and prevent contamination from, say, letting any water get into the pot. I gave it about 25 minutes to cool. House pure stank of malt and hops.

In that time I got my barrel and stout mix ready. Because I'm a brewing maverick living on the edge I threw in 350 grammes of Cooper's Brewing Enhancer Mix 2, which I just happened to have lying around. This will up the alcohol content, but does risk making the beer too thin. I'm hopeful, however, the hopping, the coffee adjunct and the weighty malts from the DME will prevent this. Totally rock 'n' roll this.

So I mixed all that up with some hot water then poured in the wort from the pot. All 10 litres of it. Ooomph. Made a bit of a mess and created a heavy head of foam. But that's OK: you want to aerate the mix. Then I topped it up to 22 litres (the tin said 23 litres but I always brew it short), poured off a sample for a hydrometer reading, and pitched the yeast in.

The yeast lay innocently on the foam. I should have left it there probably, especially as the temperature was about 24C, but I stirred it in good and proper, ya bas. It's important, I think, when brewing to do something you wish you hadn't on reflection ...

All that was left was to store the barrel, take a reading and sample it. The hydrometer read 1.050, which is nice and high and hopefully should mean I end up with a strong, hoppy, bitter stout. I've high hopes for it. Taste-wise, it's got a long journey in front of it, and along the way those sickly, sticky sweet malts are gonna work magic with the potent, pungent hop flavours and aromas. Cannae wait.

Die Hard, Brew Harder

Homebrew number six: Die Hard

So it turns out that this brewing lark, which only a few weeks ago had me believing it was the sole reason I had been put on this planet, ain’t so easy.

I’m sad to say my sixth brew, Die Hard, is something of a disappointment. That’s not to say it’s undrinkable or even unpleasant. It’s a perfectly drinkable, perfectly pleasant homebrew. And therein lies the problem: it tastes and smells like homebrew. 

V for Victory was such a wonderful success because it didn’t taste like homebrew; it tasted like beer. Proper Beer. Beer you might get from a shop or in a pub. Beer you might pay money for (though, to be fair, it could have done with a wee bit more carbonation, while the coffee did push it towards the cardboard side, but I’m being very critical here).

So, what did I do different with Die Hard, a very popular Golden Ale kit from St Peter’s? Well, I followed the instructions and nothing else. No coffee, no dry-hopping, no hop teas, no isomerisation. Just followed the instructions on the tin and nothing else. In many ways, doing nothing was as much an experiment as hacking the Cooper’s stout was for the previous brew. Well, I ain’t doing it again. From now on it’s adjuncts and dry-hopping and boiled-up malt extracts.   

   

Anyway, first thing Die Hard hits you with is that carbon dioxide-fuelled homebrew twang; that pungent, sour aroma that, well, tastes and smells like homebrew. Thankfully, it fades away quickly, and the light hop flavour and sweet malts do come through. Not overly complex, but enjoyable enough. And unlike V, there's plenty of fizz.

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.




 
 

The End of the Beer Blog

I'm never drinking again. No more beer, wine, whisky, meths. End of the reek, the wobble, the slurring and blurring. I'm giving up on wrestles on pub floors, courting arrest and diamond chat. Cheerio funny stories and outrageous yarns. Farewell minesweeping, cringe and blackouts. Goodbye beer blog and homebrew. Goodbye hangovers, ya evil, twisted, nasty bastards; and hello alcoholic-free beer!

These following words aren't mine. Many thanks to my dear friend Ben Becula for this, my last review:

Clausthaller Has that nice sweet and sour character of a really drinkable pilsner.

Erdinger Alcoholfrei A bit of a biscuity, weissbier this one. Considered by many to be one of the best non-alcoholic beers around, and I would agree.

Furstenberg Frei Excellent. When I'm in the mood for a tasty, satisfying thirst-quencher, this one often does the job. Like the Clausthaller and the Erdinger, it has character and complexity to it that a lot of other n/a beers just don't have.

BrewDog Nanny State IPA This is like hen's teeth, which is absurd considering BrewDog are Scottish. I have only been able to find it in Sweden and they don't even sell it in the BrewDog pub in Glasgow for fuck's sake! A pity, because it is really rather good and tastes like a proper citrusy, sour IPA. The trouble is that the Scottish/British mentality is so implacably opposed to n/a beer, unable to see it as anything other than a punishment for those who have overindulged, or a cross to bear by designated drivers, that this beer can't seem to get a foothold in the heartland of IPA.

Bavaria 0.0% In most supermarkets. Made in Holland, the lying bastards. Same idea as the Cobra. To be honest, when I see Cobra, Bavaria and Beck's Blue on the shelf, I always go for the Beck's even though it is more expensive. Basically, they do lack something when they have not been brewed to full strength to begin with. Having said that, I have bought Bavaria many times and will do again because it is perfectly drinkable and still tastes like beer of a sort. Some folk think it's great, but I suspect they haven't tried the premier-league ones listed above.

So there you are: what I'm going to be drinking for the rest of my life. Maybe seek out a Becks Blue or a Cobra 0.0% for variety. And there's the homebrew, too. Gotta find a way to get that ABV down to a safe and sensible <1%, because I am never drinking again. Ever. 

V for Victory: Part II

So I finally got round to doing my label for Homebrew No. 5, V for Victory. I did labels for my previous four concoctions, and was keen to continue this tradition.

I thought it might be pretty clever to have a picture of Winston Churchill, doing his two-fingered salute, with a V mask from Alan Moore's classic V for Vendetta. For that wee personal touch I gave him the eyes offof one of the aliens from the sci-fi series V.

Pretty neat idea I thought, but it wasn't really working for me - even if I had gone back to tidy up the Photoshopping. See what I mean:

V for Victory - best review ever

'Ooh Ena, that stout is bleedin' lovely.'

Guess what?!

My first stout, my fifth homebrew ever, is utterly awesome. I've named it V for Victory.

To be fair, after a dreich January, and a long 31-day wait for it to condition, I could have drank fermented yak's pish and still thought it delicious. So I had another. And guess what?! It was utterly awesome too.

I shared some with my mum and dad. They also liked it.

My mum, whose own mum hails from Salford, said: "Your stout brings back memories of Ena Sharples and her two chums, Minnie Caldwell and Martha Longhurst, three of the original characters from Coronation Street, when it was in black and white, and they used to sit in the snug of the Rovers Return and drink half pints of stout, although one of them could have been drinking port and lemon or port and brandy."

I think that's the best beer review I've ever read. 

Anyhow, I've messed about with dry-hopping and that so I wanted to push this boat out a wee bit further. So, for you interested brewers: 
I made this with Cooper's select stout and a 1kg tin of Cooper's amber malt extract. Before adding any water I threw in a cup of strong, black coffee and a pint of hop tea, brewed with Liberty hops. Stirred energetically. Brought it up to 22 litres - slightly short the kit said for 23l. Original gravity was 1.042, and I pitched the yeast at 22C. One week later I bottled it (FG was 1.014) and left it for five long weeks. Worth the wait.

Would hoppily brew again. 

On the brew

Homebrew No.6 - St Peter's Golden Ale.

My poor wee beer blog has been awfully neglected of late. But I've been busy MAKING beer rather than writing about it (though I did pen this Christmas beer piece for The Herald). I've also started a novel. And I'm working on a wee ebook venture. So it's not out of laziness. Just so we're clear.

Anyhow, tomorrow, after a month off the booze*, I'm cracking open my fifth homebrew. It doesn't have a name yet - that'll come after the tasting, which, frankly, I'm a bit anxious about.

Homebrew No. 5 is a Cooper's stout kit with a medium malt extract. Also threw in a cup of strong, black coffee, and a pint of Liberty hop tea. So, yeah, might be awesome; might be rancid. It was bloody bitter with strong malty notes, hoppy aromas when I tasted it during the bottling late last year. The coffee was there but not overpowering. It's had five very long weeks to condition so fingers crossed these elements all come together in perfect, beautiful harmony.

One of the great things about homebrewing is the choice and freedom to hack beer kits. Boiling up hops, playing with different sugars, malts and yeasts. The next step, of course, is brewing from scratch using the raw ingredients rather than an extract. I'm not there yet. Maybe this time next year ...

Pictured here is my sixth brew. A St Peter's Golden Ale. It's coming along nicely thank you very much, but, like all decent homebrews, requires a bit of patience: it probably won't be ready until March.    


* I had a dry January a few years ago and felt great after it. Did it last year too and it was OK. This year it's just been miserable and pointless. Clearly something that should only be done once in a lifetime. Someone please remind me of this in 11 months' time.

Dark Arts

Dark Horse from Scottish Borders Brewery

It's Christmas. It's time for another dark beer review.

So, to the Borders badlands, a pure medieval Mad Max country where they lowered the drinking age to 12 cause of all the early deaths cause of all the fighting.  

It's a balancy thing, drinking and reviewing a Borders beer. For one, a bad review could prove fatal. Then there's the fact I'm supporting the local arms trade: breweries in this no man's land are notorious for trading their hand-crafted pale ale for plastic explosives and guns. The whole thing has as much ethics as blood diamonds, only with beer. 

Well there was no trace of iron or shrapnel or anything like that in this bloody Dark Horse from Scottish Borders Brewery. I did get hit in the face by an aroma of sweet chocolate though, packed with malty tones and sweet caramel, and pushing towards a hint of grass that minded me of a farm. Probably the one where they store their hops and malts alongside their RPGs and Kalashnikovs.

This Dark Horse poured silkily to a dark, ruby brown with a decent amount of carbonation. And behind its rich, dark appearance, the chocolate, caramel and hint of grass carried though, but brought with them a fragrance of orange peel and a pleasant hoppy bitterness that lingered but didn't dominate.

This is a solid, well-balanced winter pint, with lots going on. Unlike revenge, don't serve cold.

Would hoppily have again.

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.

Some beers from the United States of Scotland

Blackwoods Bastard.

Scottish people in America are bigger than Scottish people in Scotland. The only short Scottish people in America are the scrawny wiry ones who pull buses with their testicles if they lose at arm wrestling, usually to tall Scottish people who get buses to move just by staring at them menacingly. It's the water.

So it's unsurprising that Heavy and Scotch Ale in the US look that wee bit bigger Stateside. Just look at this list of Scotch Ales from Paste magazine.

These are session ales for monsters, with the weakest at a pathetic 6.6%. A breakfast beer then. Nice to see Orkney, Innis & Gunn and Traquair featuring ... Also imported from this side of the ocean was a Scottish Belgium McChouffe.

And if you were in any doubt about the dark, heavy character and marketing of these beers, just look at the names: the words bastard, claymore, Pipers, Commando, splitter, skull are all there. Bastard twice. And there's no shortage of weapons, either. Bloke on the winning bottle looks a pleasant sort of bloke, though you widnae slag off his homebrew, would you?

A Golden Hopportunity

Hebridean Gold by Isle of Skye Brewing Company

They’re a savvy lot, yon ­­boys on The Herald business desk. Always got an ear for a good story and a sound investment. They were eager to back my next project, confident it would repeat the (relative) success of my you-buy-I-review initiative.

Investing a single bottle of beer they'll see their initial outlay double in quantity and quality within 12 months. Taking full advantage of my 200% growth guarantee, The Herald’s business angels will receive two bottles of my own mighty homebrew within the next financial year.

Anyway, enough about that single bottle of beer and onto something boasting much more promise. Isle of Skye’s Hebridean Gold has won umpteen commendations at various beer bashes and features in Aldi's Scottish Winter Beer festival, which really does offer some fantastic ales by the way.

Hebridean Gold was, however, a disappointing beer. Although possessing a promising malty, fragrant aroma, tastewise it left me wanting. Behind the hops I got a hint of a flavour that put me in mind of juniper and ethanol, and I didn't like the way it dominated the other more subtle goings-on. 

Overall, I felt this was a beer unsure of itself, that it was a bit thin and that there was something missing, which is a pity, cause here's what the marketing says:

A unique ale, brewed with porridge oats to produce a beer of exceptional smoothness with a deep and creamy head. It has both a light hop aroma and a good "bite" of bitterness.

Hmmmm ... think I'm clearly going to have to try it again. Anyone looking for a good investment opportunity?

Spirited Away

Hallowe'en. It's a funny old thing. It's like beer. No, really. Both were invented in Scotland. Aye, they were. Then neglected. Then adopted and improved in North America, and exported back.

And, like beer, once we're done pouring Hallowe'en through the filter of tradition, it'll be the best in the world. Aye, it will.
 
But we're not there yet. Case in point: Hallowe'en beer. I bet US and Canadian brewers have done some outstanding Hallowe'en ales. Bet they had ones made of pumpkin and candy and naughty wee trick-or-treaters.

And I'm sure a few British breweries did some perfectly fine, seasonal brews for All Hallow's Eve. Like Bridge of Allan's Allanwater Brewhouse which put on beers such as Dracula's Draught, Black Bat, Bat Blood Cider and a pumpkiny Ale'oween. Good names them.

Well, I missed these, but I did find this Spooky Ale, by Shepherd Neame, when I was out getting the messages.

Don't get me wrong, I loved the label. It's why I bought it, though if we're doing the seasonal critique thing, it's more Jack the Ripper than Tam o' Shanter. Had a nice wee ditty on the neck I liked:

Double, double, boil and bubble

Hops brown & barley stubble.   

Nice wee reference to The Scottish Play. 

Anyhow, the aroma off the bottle was very promising. It smelled: drinkable - a crisp, malty smell. And it poured beautifully too. Maybe a wee bit over-energetic on the bubbles, but, you know, we were both keen to get cosy with each other. Lovely dark red meaty colour to it. Mmmm.

But my first taste was a disappointment. Ever kiss someone you were really, really, really into and they weren't that good at kissing? Well, it was like that.

Tastewise - we're talking beer not snogging now - you get a dry, biscuity flavour off the malts, and the initial prickly mouthfeel gave way to a soft, marshmallow texture. But there was also a sourness on the swallow that was off-kilter with the malty sweetness. Almost like the bitterness came in too early. 

Sure, the flavours were all fine in themselves, but I found Spooky Ale thin and off-balance. Uninspiring. Lacked body. I suppose if you want a seasonal Hallowe'en ale you want something unusual in it. A bit of spice, cinnamon, nutmeg, oomph. Get some of those fruity, harvesty, pungent, autumnal tastes, you know?

To be fair, however, the second one out the fridge went down a treat.

Glasgow Beer Week - starts today!

Glasgow In A Can, by Simon Varwell

Hey, guess what! Today is the start of Glasgow Beer Week. That’s right, the city that invented heavy engineering and alcohol is spending a whole week celebrating yon malts, hops, yeast, sugar and water thing. Sure, those boffins at Lonely Planet might reckon Scotland will be the place to be NEXT YEAR, but you really need to get over to Glasgow THE NOW.

Workers throughout the city are being encouraged to take extended, boozy lunch breaks. Pop-up bars will be, err, popping up in shopping malls, high schools and old cemeteries. Dour bar staff will be replaced by attractive, friendly ones. The city council is planning to turn the Chambers into a craft beer hall AND will also be subsidising taxi fares for mild and heavy drinkers. Meanwhile, FirstBus, SPT and yon other transport providers are putting on additional services to cater for the extra drunkards, with plans afoot for a special freedom of the city beer pass that’ll get you onto any bus going anywhere (cause rest assured the polis will be putting on extra patrols to check the roadworthiness of your car). Best of all, NHS Greater Glasgow and Clyde has declared a bloody hangover amnesty!

Other slightly less cool Glasgow Beer Week events include a vegan beer and food testing at the BrewDog pub opposite the Kelvingrove Galleries, and a Michael Jackson appreciation at West Brewery. Wee bit suspect that one but who doesn’t like moonwalking and squealing sh’moan when half-cut?  There's also a meet-the-cask do at the wonderful Blackfriars, as well as a (tbc) live homebrew event. (Bet you I’m bloody working that day. Hmmmm .... )

Supermarket Aldi is even in on the act and is stocking up on quality craft beers just so we don't run out. Yaldi!

The whole thing climaxes messily with the SIBA beer thanksgiving prize event in the southside next weekend, where they’ll be casting judgement on the best beers of 2013. Looking forward to the fallout from that one. 

Drinking up is hard to do

I do love you, so very much.

See that bottle over there on the right? That's the last bottle of my first batch of homebrew. The last one. I'm feeling a wee bit broken-hearted.

This bottle marks the end of my first brew, and, you know, we've had a bit of a thing going these past few weeks. You always remember your first brew, they say, and it's true.

Should I drink it now, just be done with it? End the whole affair? Or should I leave it, let things linger, maybe drink it in a month, or two, see how those extra few weeks help? What happens if they don't though? What happens if it sours things?

It started simple enough, just me and a tin. Then the fermenting barrel got involved - that complicated things I tell you. The yeast helped, I 'spose. Forgetting the sugar didn't. Like birthday flowers a day late, adding a sugar solution certainly helped mend things, but it wasn't quite enough. The damage was done. The cracks were there. I thought we were over.

But we persevered. We gave each other a bit of space for a few weeks. That time spent conditioning was like a salve for us.

Three weeks and we tried again. There was, sure, a spark, but something was missing. We limped on. Tried again a week later, and wow. Beer that wasn't disgusting. Beer that was, you know, drinkable. That respected you in the morning. Beer that, err, went down on you. 

Things got bubbly, exciting. I thought, you know, it might have been love. That this was the one. Sure, the "sugar" thing came up – the occasional bottle seemed a wee bit flat or insipid or sour – but it's nothing we couldn't work through ... Only, we've run out of time. This bottle here is the last one. My last one. And now I have to decide.

I know I have to move on. I know there are plenty more brews in the sea, but, well, drinking up is hard to do.

Glasgow's about to get very crafty

Pollokshaws Burgh Hall.

Weekend after next is a special one. Not my birthday nor a brew day; it's the Scottish Craft Beer Festival in Glasgow.

It promises to be quite an occasion, with a good selection of beers and brewers on tap. A few exceptions, but it's got a good geographical spread, from the Northern Isles to the east coast to the Borders.

And just cause craft beer is all hip at the moment, don't be expecting no swanky craft beer pub for this do though. The event takes place in the elegant, but old, Pollokshaws Burgh Hall. That's right, Pollokshaws ... in the south side. On the other side of the river. I'll need some sort of map and fare to get there ...

The Brewed, The Mad and The Snugly

Evil Twin Brewery's The Cowboy fits snugly in your hand.

Everyone knows a cowboy's favourite drink is whisky. Everyone. It can be rye whiskey, Irish whiskey or Scotch. Doesn't matter. Everyone knows this. Everyone ... Err, hello Evil Twin Brewing?

OK, so everyone except Evil Twin Brewing knows that a cowboy's favourite drink is whisky. Evil Twin reckons a cowboy's favourite drink is beer, their beer in fact. That's a big claim, but Evil Twin have some big beer ideas, and their The Cowboy concoction has big beery presence like The Man With No Name.

The Cowboy poured amber golden and frothy, and was opaque like a mad yeehah wine gum. It's aroma was a delicious smokey heaven, complex and distinctive, containing tangerine, leather and a sourness I couldn't place. Maybe some desert cactus that only gives off its smell after those late rains in springtime.  

On the taste, those flavours were amplified, but ever-changing, so that each gulp was different to the last, and also difficult to pin down. Yes, the smokiness retained throughout, however (and we're talking how your clothes smell after a night yakking round a campfire, not the smokey smell of sausages, haddock or nicotine worshippers), and there was a mild hoppiness too, that tended towards tropical rather than citrus and balanced well with the heavy malty pilsner goings-on.

A bottle of The Cowboy comes in at around a tenner for a litre or so (possibly 75cl) so it ain't cheap, but I doubt you've ever had a beer like it. Worth a shot at the very least - it's one punch-packing, cheroot-smoking brew, and I'd hoppily have it again.

Call of Duty: Black Hops

Did you ever play Dungeon Master on Atari or Amiga, with its crappy graphics, naff sound, but awesome gameplay and characters like Gothmog, Sonya, Linflas and Wuuf? Remember how you felt when the dungeon's gate opened for the first time and it was just you on the edge of 14 levels of darkness and days of gamer angst? That's exactly where I am right now.

Apologies to FTL Games & Nintendo.

I'm about to start home-brewing. I've spent much of the past year prattling on about hops and malts, citrus and caramel, it's time I got to grips with the process of packing these flavours into a glass bottle. It's like I'm in the Hall of Champions about to choose my four adventurers. 

After months of negotiations, and even agreeing to move house, I have managed to secure a small cube of cupboard space just the right size for a 40-pint fermentation barrel. But winning agreement from my end-of-level bosslady was just the first stage; I also had to choose whether to go for a kit, and if so, which one.

First part was as easy as decking Dhalsim in Street Fighter: Noobs start with a kit. And seeing as I was too busy playing games in my teens and twenties to brew my own beer, solving that puzzle was easy. So I moved promptly on to: which kit.

Oh dear, there are many.

Fortunately, I have a crack.

It's the home-brew haven on Dumbarton Road. Inn House Brewery is like a real-world PokeMart. But instead of PokeBalls, potions or antidotes, it's stacked floor to ceiling with tins, tubs, barrels, flasks, bottles, and packets of yeast and hops. (For those of you sick of my shoddy videogaming metaphors, it's like an old-fashioned ironmongers, but beer and wine stuff instead of tools, screws and fuses.) 

And thankfully the vendor's more like Beedle than the Happy Mask Salesman (one hopes).  After a series of dumb questions that really did play out like a scene from Zelda, I think I'm going to accept the Cooper's Starter Kit quest. That I can swap their starter lager for a Brewmaster IPA is like an in-game special bonus. And you know what, if I muck it up and brew a bad batch I can always respawn.

(Fans of Xenon 2, and Assault on Precinct 13, this song's for you. Cx)

Are you having a Laf?

Laf steam beer by Deeside Brewery

Remember a few weeks ago, when it was blistering hot, when a part of you was thinking, it's almost too hot, when it was blue skies and wispy clouds, when every cool pint was heaven (more so than usual), when you fantasized about rain, when the office was unbearable (more so than usual) and work impossible, when it was open season for umpteen Taps Aff Young Teams and all you wanted was to get out the city and down to the beach. Remember?

Well, I was on holiday in the Hebrides with my top off drinking a cold beer on one of the world's most beautiful beaches. There wasn't a cloud in sight. With the exception of my family, there wasn't a soul in sight.

Along with buckets and spades, we were wise enough to have brought a couple of bottles of Laf on our yomp across the machair. Laf's a delicious steam beer from those stylish brewers at Deeside Brewery (you can tell they're stylish because of their use of serif and san-serif fonts on the labelling). 

You hear a lot about perfect temperatures of beer. Extra cold, 14 degrees, half-hour out the fridge, slightly chilled, cellar cool, room temperature, and so on. Following extensive research, I can reveal the perfect temperature for a beer is when said beer has been kept for an amount of time in a plastic bucket filled with sea water, kept in the shade of rocks and half-buried in the sand. The sea water must be no hotter than 14 degrees though; none of your beer-curdling Med here. Condensation on the glass is a vital component, too.

Ours poured beautifully, amber golden with a floral, zesty head that gave promise to a deeply refreshing drink. Tastewise, there was a subtle yet robust wooden or earthy background flavour, which I took to be the characteristics of the steam-brewing process. And, in the glaring sun, its prominent crisp, light hoppy taste was an absolute godsend. Deeply refreshing.     

A nomination for Beer of the Year? Definitely.

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. 

Super Trooper

The bottle was EMPTY! OK?

Iron Maiden clawed their way back into the headlines with the launch of their mighty Trooper beer a couple of months back. I got round to trying it just the other night.

It's a fine British beer, produced by Cheshire brewery Robinsons, with a strong malty taste benefiting from fruity hops and caramel edge. Dark golden in colour, it's enough to keep the crafties happy without turning off the bitter fans. Very drinkable. 

Anyway, best bit about this beer is the labelling. The front takes its inspiration from the artwork off the band's Trooper single released some THIRTY years ago. I'd show you the picture of Eddie and his Union flag but my image is much better. 

And here's what the blurb on the back said:

Onward, Onward
Rode The 600...
The Charge Of The Light Brigade, which inspired the Iron Maiden song The Trooper, took place at the Battle Of Balaclava (1854) during the Crimean War when 600 British cavalry courageously charged the massed Russian artillery. This gallant but foolhardy assault resulted in a massive loss of live and came about due to a misunderstanding of an order given by the commanding officer, Lord Raglan.

Trooper is a premium British beer inspired by Iron Maiden and handcrafted at Robinsons brewery. Being a real ale enthusiast, vocalist Bruce Dickinson has developed a beer which has true depth of character. Malt flavours and citric notes from a unique blend of Bobec, Goldings and Cascade hops dominate this deep golden ale with a subtle hint of lemon.

So, you get a nice wee history lesson while you drink beer. I want more of this. Much more. Brian Cox could do a cider, mix his tasting notes with a wee blurb about subatomic particles. Mervyn King, now he's got a bit of spare time, could do budget beer, with a small treatise on economics. JK Rowling could entertain her over-18 fanbase and pen 100 micro-fictions for the back of her bottles.

I'm going to come back to this. In the meantime, here's a short Trooper promo: