I spent the weekend happily in a field in Dorset with a group of friends. It was the 11th time we have been camping together with our sons. When we started the lads were all 8 years old. We used to wear them out running around fields all day, then stash them in the tents sound asleep and start the serious process of drinking beer.
Now they are all 19 years old and we go to bed before they do. But the savouring of beer around a camp fire continues.
At first it was a very informal affair - everyone brought some beer and we shared it around. Then people noticed that I was bringing some interesting ones, with a strong Belgian focus, and started asking me about them. Then, one year as we were handing out tasks in the “planning meeting” (which, yes, took place in a pub and lasted a suspiciously long time), I was given the task of bringing a collection of speciality beers to taste.
This has become one of our rituals. We sit in a circle and the beers are brought out one by one. I describe them, we taste each one in turn and rank them as we go. Which sounds very orderly. It isn’t. Strong views are expressed. I let the debate run and then eventually play the role of Chairman, steering the group to some kind of grudging consensus. (“Look, I hear you all but I think that on balance that beats the IPA and loses to the wheat beer”). It helps that doing this kind of thing is my day job.
The beauty of a tasting is that you try beers that you would never order. I always start out telling people that they probably won’t like everything they try, but that they will like some things a lot. I hear people say “oooh, I wouldn’t have a pint of that”. Well no, you wouldn’t, because it’s over 10% ABV, but beer is about more than multiple pints.
We lay out the empty bottles and cans on a block of wood and leave them by the fire so that we can inspect it in the light of day. This was a source of great fascination for the lads when they were younger - they would pop out of their tents in the morning, poke at the line, and theorise as to why the ranking order was what it was.
Then it was time for the next generation to join in. For two years I laid on “beginners’” tastings in which they were able to sample prime examples of the different kinds of beer. They showed excellent taste, bestowing the laurel crown of victory first on Fullers London Pride (their “home town” beer) and then Augustiner Helles. This year was the rite of passage as they joined us in the magic circle as full participants.
So which beers have triumphed over the years? We have never, despite my efforts (or rather the efforts of the mighty Cloudwater and Thornbridge breweries) had an English winner. The first winner was the Tripel from the Trappist Abbey of Westmalle (my own personal all time favourite, so my chairmanship may have been biased). Other Belgian champions have been the “Radieuse” from the Abbey of Leffe and the “Straffe Hendrik Quadrupel” from the Halve Maan brewery in Bruges. The USA has also featured strongly, with the Brown Ale from the Brooklyn Brewery and the monster that is the Kentucky Breakfast Stout (12.4% ABV) from the Founders Brewery in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Another winner was the German offshoot of a California brewery: Stone Berlin gave us “Xocoveza”, an Imperial Stout based on traditional Mexican hot chocolate. Finally, while England may never have triumphed, Scotland has. The Harviestoun brewery near Stirling gave us Ola Dubh: dark ale aged in whisky barrels (and not just any whisky, but Highland Park). Having won in 2018, Ola Dubh then prevailed in a “champion of champions” tasting (which left us all slightly the worse for wear the following day given the quantities of alcohol involved).
This year, Cloudwater (“It’s Springtime in Japan DIPA”) and Thornbridge (“Lucaria Salted Caramel Porter”) once again made the podium but fell just short. The winner was one I had not expected - the Portland Street Pale Ale from the Gweilo brewery of Hong Kong. I had picked up on this one through Beer Hawk’s “Breweries to Watch” mixed case. I had thought it a worthy addition to the field, but its medley of tropical fruit flavours and Pacific hops routed the opposition.
An abiding theme over the years has been my failure to convert my friends to the joys of natural fermentation Belgian (or Belgian-style) beers- the Gueuzes and Lambics, the Krieks and Frambozens. I agree it’s a taste that polarises. But one of the lads sidled up to me afterwards to mutter that he had actually rather liked the “Juliet” Belgian-style wild ale from the Goose Island brewery (which had finished in the relegation places). I said great, there is no right and wrong with good beer, just explore where your tastes take you. And enjoy.