Dr Thirsty’s No.4 Blonde (Round 2- The Second Round)

Medicine-peddling quacks have always been a reoccurring theme in English literature and mythology. The idea of a sleepy Victorian village being visited by the ‘world famous’ doctor hack, offering miracle cures that he claims to have acquired from exotic foreign lands, is one familiar even today (let us not upset the Holistic Society). Often, it is backed by fraudulent claims of being well-established as a surefire cure and even sometimes a member of the audience experiences a minor placebo effect and declares it a success. Whatever the case, Dr Thirsty just visited your hollow and has just exchanged a couple of quid from your pocket for a bottle of his remedy for everything’ that ails ya. This is his elixir, fresh from the fountain of youth and led to settle in the bottom of Lazerus’ grave. This is his No.4 Blonde.

The first thing you get is that wet-pub smell that is just so damn great. It is a semi-transparent golden stream that builds a frothy layer of beer-snow on top that soon melts away as it settles. The first sip and I swear there is some old apple in there. For a blonde beer, you get a lot of bold, autumn flavours that don’t pardon themselves in a hurry, and this all reminds you that you are drinking a Wychwood. Seriously, I have to take my second sip from the neck of the bottle to be sure I haven’t over-contaminated it, such is how surprising it is. The scent matches the drink perfectly, and this manages to sit on the easy-drinking table without sacrificing any character. It is well documented that scent is probably the strongest sense to trigger memory, and the images that comes with this one is of getting into the pub from the rain and getting the first one pulled.

Of course, this could all be rubbish, and I could just be under the spell of Dr Thirsty’s salesmanship, which is fine. Come the end of the season his cart will be off to the next village, the next town and province, and by then it’ll be too late to call him on his dealings. The sneaky bastard.

Batemans Dark Lord

The name Thomas Fairfax is never going to be as commonplace as Oliver Cromwell, but if I had to choose which one to lead my army into battle it would have to be Black Tom. With his dark clothes, dark hair and all-round evil-genius demeanour came victory after victory that led to people cheering him in the street as he would pass. A man with no time for parliamentary time-wasting when there were fights to win and armies to lay waste to, he lacked the over-the-top drama of Cromwell, letting his scorecard do the talking for him.

 

This award-winning beer is dark and brooding, carrying the typical hints of chocolate, woodland and Sunday roast. However, it doesn’t quite take that full plunge into real dark brew, retaining itself with some spicy lulls and something that I can’t really describe. Just a more familiar taste that staves away the last few miles before stout territory. There is a thickness to the texture and a light amount of fizz that carries the whole thing along. Perfect for a slab of beef, really.

The real life Dark Lord was once described as “so highly transported that scarce any one durst speak a word to him”, that is to stay that he is calm, methodical and any outside interference from the gibbering mouth-hole of another man would just be a nuisance. Respect Black Tom and enjoy this awesome beer.

Adnam’s Ghost Ship

The SS Eibe was braving a fierce storm during a cold January of 1895 off the coast of Suffolk when she collided with The Crathie. Of the 354 passengers, 20 managed to get to the safety of the second lifeboat after the first capsized due to being overloaded with people.

 

Such is the source of the morbid legends that inspired Adnam’s Ghost Ship, my current personal favourite pale ale. The initial hit is a glassy clash to the tongue, followed by a cheerful lemon follow-up. However, despite all these chirpy flavours, there is still a sense of legend and morbid myth to the taste that matches the theme. Something seawater-ish maybe, or an old taste, something that had inhabited a dusty jug for a while.

The wreckages of smugglers’ ships lay as a testament to the gamble of the dangerous, illicit and highly profitable men and women who lost their lives to the North Sea.

I can’t say enough good things about Ghost Ship, it is friendly, refreshing but still with a pale clang that haunts you in just the right way.

Harviestoun’s Bitter and Twisted

Harviestoun started as recently as 1983. In fact, it started in the October of 1983, which is a nice coincidence.

Ken Brooker would host drinking parties, which eventually developed into the team converting a steading into a brewery, and salvaging all of the farm equipment into brewing tools, including a boiler that used to dye wool.This fun, light beer is awesome. It has a friendly kick but is easy to drink, with a little sharp, hoppy spike that is not exactly bursting with flavour but has buckets of charm.

There is a little fruit in the aftertaste that is incredibly refreshing and may even hint as to the mystery of why the beer is called Bitter and Twisted. The other possible answer is that a bunch of half-cut people were drinking it and woke up in the morning with it scrawled onto the back of their hands.

Made by beer-lovers, for beer-lovers. Cringing but never more true.

Wychwood’s Hobgoblin

Of course, you can’t go into Wychwood territory without mentioning Hobgoblin.

Basically, Hobgoblin is Wychcraft’s mean older brother. From the first sip you get a host of flavours and an aftertaste that announces itself loud and clear with a unique flavour. How Hobgoblin is ‘The Unofficial Beer of Hallowe’en’ is unclear to me (maybe some megacorp already has dibs on that title) but it has a cult standing and a huge fan base that most companies must surely dream of. Like Shakespeare’s Puck, this is one classic character. Hell, as far as wikipedia is concerned, David Cameron and Barack Obama talked the fate of the world while enjoying a Hobgoblin during the G20 Summit in Toronto. I don’t know if that counts for cool, but it certainly makes a statement on who is number one when it comes to home-brew.

Of course, there is the legend of Obama announcing he would drink his case of Hobgoblin ‘chilled’, which led to the mischievous Wychcraft to produce t-shirts with the writing ‘What’s the matter Obama, afraid you might taste something?”. Incredible.

The drink itself carries a dark colour that most review as ruby, but I like to go back to blood-orange when describing it. it is a wicked beer with a statement and should always be ordered during rounds for anyone in the group who asks for a Fosters.

Wychwood’s Wychcraft

Where better to head during these cold October evenings than Wychwood?

 

They get their name from the Wychwood forests of Oxfordshire, which in turn is derived from the Anglo-Saxon tribe ‘Hwicce’. One interpretation of this name was “cauldron; sacred vessel”, at which point we start to dig into pre-Roman celtic deities and a whole heap of myth and legend that we will be lucky to ever understand and I start to forget why I have a skull-shaped mug in my hand.

Wychcraft is dry with a hint of apples-in-a-barrel and possibly more fruits. I find it never oversteps into an exotic taste, staying true to the woodland roots and matching the themes of woodland, mystery and creatures of myth.

I think what attracts me most to Wychcraft is how laid-back it is. If you stop and think about it you will find a host of flavours but if you find yourself drinking it in the background of a serious bar chat, it will quietly sit in the background and not make too much noise.

There is some evidence for classic pre-Roman gods of the native tribes to be women holding vessels. It has been argued that this could actually be one of the habits the Romans brought over, but I like to think that the tribes have always worshipped ladies carrying fine jugs of refreshing fluid.

That is my argument, and I am sticking to it.

Williams Bros’ March of the Penguins 4.9%

A thick, strong drink with a bourbon aftertaste is what you find you find in this microbrewed stout. A lot of coffee and warm feelings are put into this drink, confusingly called March of the Penguins. Honestly, I struggle to make the connection, but the drink itself is a comforting taste that challenges you. I have to be honest, there were moments i had while drinking the bottle that I wish I smoked cigars. For such a playful name (again, confusion) this is a mature taste. Maybe, in the winters when you find yourself in your own personal march of the penguins between A and B, the chocolate taste would provide some comfort.

 

The Williams Bros themselves have quite a tale themselves. In 1988, they discovered their signature ale when a Gaelic woman visited their family-run store, asking for help with an old family recipe she had discovered. Using a process dating back to 2000 BC, they created ‘Froach’ Heather Ale, and the ‘Brotherhood’ went from there.

 

There is certainly a lot of personality in a bottle of March of the Penguins, but all are warm and all lead towards the fireplace. Its a drink that reminds you of the journey home, of family and comfort so, in a way, March of the Penguins is the most fitting name you could give it.

Adnams Lighthouse 3.4%

At night, along the North Sea coast of Suffolk, there is a light that blinks once every ten seconds.

Lit in 1890, the Southwold Lighthouse survived a fire that occurred just six days after it was commissioned, and once again survived threat in 2005, when Trinity House considered closing the iconic landmark.

Adnams Lighthouse comes across incredibly light and refreshing upon first taste. It is easy to drink, unthreatening and simple, leaving just the ghost of an aftertaste to remind you that it was ever there. However, as you stick with it, you start to find a honey-like flavour that gives the drink its shy character and matches its honey colour.

The thinking behind the idea that Lighthouses are redundant is that GPS satellite navigation has rendered them redundant. This, of course, completely and utterly misses the point. While technology is something to work with a grow, you have to always remember that a server being cooled in the backend of a navigational enterprise is rarely celebrated as a national monument. Lighthouses provide a unique aesthetic to the costal line that people would never see as a waste of funding.

Adnams have recognised the lighthouse’s importance in the local community and have made a light, easy and laid-back drink in homage, a drink that is surprisingly soft and ghostly but with a secret, charming flavour.

Sharp’s Doom Bar 4.3%

If you were, say, a hand on a ship at a time when sails and wind were the engines for such vessels, and you were approaching the north coast of Cornwall amidst a storm and coming round Stepper Point, you would be doing so with great care.

Chances are that the wind would abandon you, leaving you to drift helplessly away from the channel. On more cruel occasions, the wind would actually come over Stepper Point and steer your vessel towards the sandbank. You would drop anchor in the hope of snagging some stability but the bed of sand below would break away. Your only choice is to leave your ship to the mercy of nature and pray for quick rescue for the The Doom Bar.

There is something of the Celtic Sea air in a bottle of Doom Bar beer. The spicy flavour clears your nostrils and leaves a campfire taste on your tongue but a high note elsewhere. The colour is a semi-transparent burgundy that may be closer to blood-orange, all of this fitting into a uniform or theme for the beer. However, anyone with a more active imagination will taste a lot more in Doom Bar.

Legend has it that Doom Bar was actually created by the vindictive Mermaid of Padstow. A local lad by the name of Tristram Bird was hunting seals at Hawkers Cove when he encountered the ill-faited mermaid. Thinking her to be a regular local woman (and entranced by her incredible beauty) he asked her to marry him. When she refused, he raised his gun and shot her dead. With her dying breath, she cursed the sand, and 600 beachings, capsizings and wrecks have occurred in the wake of her vengeance.

Doom bar conjures tastes of nostalgia and adventure, of myth and good times. It is a calm beer, drank when reminiscing with friends or relaxing on a empty afternoon and tastes absolutely fantastic when sitting in a skull-shaped mug.