We’ve resolved to hold a beer and cheese tasting for our friends this year, so we thought we’d do a trial run.  Several trial runs in fact, to work out what really works, without relying solely on perceived wisdom and the experience of others.

We did consult a few references, though. As well as Garrett Oliver’s book The Brewmaster’s Table which inspired us in the first place, we also read interesting articles by Fiona Beckett (here), Pete Brown and commentators (here) and New Zealand cheese salesman and brewer Kieran Haslett-Moore, who has lots of suggestions all over his blog.

It’s clear from our initial experiments, however, that it’s tougher than it looks.  It’s not really enough to say that ‘X type of beer goes with Y type of cheese’ as there is as much variety in cheese as there is in beer.  Still, it’s a lot of fun trying various different combinations, even if we did have nightmares afterwards.

Test set 1: Pilsener Urquell and Hoegaarden

We had four quite different cheeses to match up here to get some sense of the lay of the land. There was a nice soft goat’s cheese, a not-very-posh Camembert, some (rather boring) cheddar and some Roquefort.

One of our theories to date has been that Hoegaarden works with pretty much any kind of food including curry.  We were proved wrong. The goat’s cheese didn’t influence the flavour of the beer very much, although possibly brought out a little bitterness.  The camembert accentuated the citrus notes and was probably the best match.  The cheddar — dull as it was — still managed to overpower the Hoegaarden. The Roquefort completely killed it.

The goat’s cheese complemented the PU really well — it brought out the malty sweetness but kept the balance, whereas the camembert made the PU seem watery and less bitter.  The cheddar made it harsh and unbalanced.  The PU stood up remarkably well to the Roquefort, although overall we would say that the cheese won the battle.

We really enjoyed the Roquefort and are keen to find a beer that can handle it. More on that to follow and, as always, suggestions welcome.

Photo from cwbuechler at Flickr, license under Creative Commons.

Delirium, over at “De Cervezas y otras cosas”, has set a very interesting topic for this month’s “round” (the Session for Spanish-speaking beer-bloggers). It was so thought-provoking that we thought we’d post it in English as well.

The challenge was to come up with a “virtual” tasting session aimed at people who are not beer lovers. We had to pick between five and eight beers that we would put forward, avoiding obscure microbreweries, and explain why we’d selected them.

We like to beervangelise from time to time, so it’s a question we’ve thought about a lot in the past. After much pondering, we finally came up with some definite proposals, which we put forward here.

When deciding what to include, we wanted to present a wide range of styles, so that the beer novice would be suitably impressed by the variety available. At the same time, the beers have to be accessible – so no Rauchbier or Flanders Reds… Also, in keeping with the spirit of the question, we’ve not specified any cask ale in this list, given its limited availability outside the UK.

This list is not “our favourite beers”, although we’d happily drink all of them.

Hoegaarden, 5%

Many claim that this recipe has been dumbed down. We still think it’s a fine drink, refreshing and spicy. It’s on this list because we’ve successfully tried it on people who don’t really drink beer at all, and it’s generally gone down well because of its unusual flavour. Of course, other wits would do the same job — one of our favourites is St Bernardus Wit — but Hoegaarden is much more widely available, so better suits the specifications of this challenge.

Brooklyn Lager, 5.2%

We’ve posted of our love of this before. This is one to give the “premium-lager” lovers to blow their minds. Ale fans will also find plenty to appreciate with its full malt flavour and tangible hops. It’s just a beautiful, well-crafted beer.

St Austell, “Proper Job” IPA, 5.5%

Lots of people think that British ale has to be brown and flat. This beer is for them. It’s a lovely pale brew that sparkles in the glass, and has a wonderful hop aroma and flavour, without being overly bitter. The reason why we’ve selected this in particular from the many great British pale ales is that it seems to work really well in bottles. We might select Meantime IPA instead, as this seems to be exported more, but it’s a lot more “extreme” and difficult to digest.

Schneider Weisse 5.4%

We wanted to include a German Weissbier because it’s such an interesting and distinct style, and this is our favourite. It’s not as sickly as many of the others, and the banana flavour is there without being overpowering. We’ve found that a nice Weissbier often goes down well with lager-lovers – it’s cold and fizzy, after all.

Fuller’s London Porter, 5.4%

This is for the Guinness lovers, to show them what dark beer should be about. It’s a splendid mix of chocolate, fruits, coffee-roastiness and liquorice. It works pretty well in bottles, but is wonderful on cask. In terms of richness and complexity, it beats many Belgian beers with twice the strength. Our decision to include this is possibly influenced by the fact that this is Boak’s favourite beer.

Triple Karmeliet, 8.4%

We would have this one in reserve, to finish off the evening. It has the seductive sweetness and comfort of Leffe, but has more depth of flavour and is, frankly, a bit more credible. It’s not the most complex Belgian beer, but it’s very consistent, and is a great introduction to strong Belgian beers. Pour with a big head and take large gulps to appreciate the rounded, fruity flavours.

Runners-up

We thought a lot about including a fruit beer. We decided not to in the end, much as we like them, as we were assuming that the point of this exercise was to introduce a newcomer to good beer. We’ve given non-beer drinkers Fruli before, and they enjoy it, but that doesn’t mean that they suddenly “convert” to liking beer.

We had a similar debate with chocolate beers. The problem here is that the chocolate beers we like are on the subtle side. We once gave a non-beer-drinker some Meantime Chocolate to try, and they couldn’t taste the chocolate at all. “Urgh – it tastes like beer!” they said.

If you’ve read this far,you may be interested in reading about some real tastings – Tandleman introduced a number of GBBF visitors to bottle-conditioned beers (although he didn’t choose them), and Wilson at Brewvana organised a tasting session for women, with very interesting results.

What would you choose?

My first encounters were not so cool. Around about the turn of the century, when Leffe and Hoegaarden were beginning to appear in trendy London pubs, a mate suggested going to the Dove, Hackney for her birthday.

Having got a bus to the really rough bit of Hackney, and walked underneath some dodgy railway arches to get there, I was already in a bad mood that she hadn’t suggested somewhere closer to home. I got even grumpier when I saw what was on offer – weird foreign stuff at MORE THAN £4 A PINT!!! The barstaff did try to explain some rubbish about how in Belgium you drank it from nice small glasses, but I wasn’t having any of it. And it tasted weird.

I can’t remember exactly what I drank – I think I had a fruit beer (don’t people always when they’re faced with a Belgian beer menu for the first time?) and a Delirium Tremens, because the elephants were cool. We moaned to my friend for having brought us there for quite some time afterwards.

I’m always sceptical about people who claim they’ve always been into cool stuff. I’m happy to admit to being a philistine. And I think my experience is illustrative of the difficulties that Belgian beer faces in gaining acceptance in the UK, particularly the insistence on the pint as the only measure that makes sense.

Anyway, I went back to the Dove a year or so later, when I was a bit more open to it (i.e. had a job and could afford it). I picked beers with odd names (Slag Pils! Mort Subite!) and funny beer glasses (Kwak pipes aplenty), and enjoyed the food. It became a bit of a treat. Then it became the victim of its own success, and the last time I went there before today I remember the service being dreadful, the food so-so, the beer a bit off and the whole place full of smoke and screeching media types.

Then, having watched “In Bruges” earlier this week (we liked it) we got a bit of craving for Belgian beers in “gay glasses” (to paraphrase the film) and decided it was time for a return.

We’ve learnt from past experience that places in London can go from being great to lousy to great again — the power of the internet, perhaps, as bar managers respond to comments on review websites and blogs? At any rate, the Dove was in top form today – superb food, and a great selection of Belgian beers on tap and in bottles. They also had six or so British ales on, included Oregon Best from Crouch Vale, a delicious homage to American pale ales.

The staff look like they’re all in trendy bands, but manage to hold it together long enough to carefully serve your beer in the right glasses.

It’s a very cosy spot, full of nooks and crannies and reminiscent of a pub in Ghent we went to. With the smoking ban in place, it’s an extremely pleasant place to spend a gloomy afternoon and gently souse one’s liver. Highly recommended.

We may blog more about some of the bonkers Belgian brews we had, including one that tasted like Heinz spaghetti…

Boak

Here’s a map to the Dove.