There are four basic components to a beer. Other substances can be the icing on the cake but basically it all comes down to malted grain, water and yeast as a catalyst. Plus the doughty crop humulus lupulus. Hops. The source of beer’s distinctively bitter flavouring.
Fun fact no 1 - hops are part of the Cannabaceae family. Which, as its name implies, also features the mighty weed itself.
Indeed, hops were described as late as 1400 as a “wicked and pernicious weed”. They were foreign - first records of hop cultivation come from 8th century Germany. When imported hopped beers started to arrive in England, they were an interloper, pushing out honest to goodness Anglo-Saxon ale that was flavoured with other herbs. (Indeed, the literature suggests that the word “beer” - which comes from the Latin “biber” - was a derogatory term for something foreign. The confusion really started when “ale” began to be used incorrectly for some hopped beers because it rhymed with “pale” - see my previous blog on the origins of IPA).
Intriguingly, hops were also an important battleground in the growth of religious dissent that culminated in the Reformation. The Holy Roman Catholic Church controlled the supply of “gruet” - the main herb previously used to flavour ale - through heavy taxation. So drinking beer which used hops instead of gruet was an act of rebellion and ultimately a sign of one’s commitment to Protestantism. You might want to remind the vicar of that next time you turn up drunk to a Christmas Eve service.
We first cultivated our own hops in Kent in the 16th century and their advance appears to have been relentless. Nowadays, hop production is concentrated on Kent and also on Herefordshire and Worcestershire.
Different hops are one of the main reasons why beers taste different, and hop innovation is therefore central to innovation in beer cultivation. Two names dominate the recent history of English hop-growing and therefore English beer - Fuggle and Golding. Mr Richard Fuggle of Brenchley in Kent found a particular strain of hop growing in his garden and managed to turn this into production in 1875. There was also, at some point in the early 19th century, a Mr Golding who did something similar (nobody quite knows which Mr Golding it was, despite the efforts of the excellent beer historian Martyn Cornell to solve the puzzle).
Descriptions of different hops seem to be influenced by national stereotyping. English hops are often referred to in terms of being mild, subtle, understated. The dominant strains of “noble hops” from continental Europe - like Hallertau (Germany) and Saaz (Czech Republic) are pure and correct. Pacific Pale Ales brewed with New Zealand hops are marketed as a chilled out experience. And American hops are rooted in English traditions (usually the Brewers Gold hop) but have been cultivated into something bold and brash. I personally love the big flavours of the best American beers, and increasingly the global trade in hops is allowing brewers from over the world to try new combinations and push boundaries.
So let us raise a glass to the cultivators of Fuggle Tetraploid, Pocket Talisman, Vic Secret, Gargoyle, Density, Feux-Coeur, Pride of Ringwood and many more. Their dedicated efforts are instrumental to our pleasure.
And in the meantime, I am settling on what I am going to be drinking on Christmas Day. Basically there will be no messing but a focus on the very best - a Cloudwater DIPA, a Westmalle Tripel and, to round it off, the Canadian Breakfast Stout from the Founders Brewery of Grand Rapids Michigan. An imperial stout with huge coffee and chocolate flavours, which has first been rested for a year in Canadian Bourbon barrels. 11.3% ABV. My Christmas pudding.