Gilroy's, Seriously?

Having just landed on a delayed Nairobi flight, I headed straight to a friend's beer party. By the time I arrived, the afternoon's festivities were well and over, but there were still enough food to sate my hungry belly, a few willing drinkers, and a couple of Gilroy's 'Serious Dark Ale' in the cooler box. Years ago, Gilroy's was one of the few craft brews available in Johannesburg and I'd brave the lousy service and rubbery calamari at the otherwise charming Zoo Lake Bowling Club just to get one. Well, the club stopped serving Gilroys and the old timer seemed to have been put to pasture by a breed of aggressive upstarts. The last time I tasted anything they make was a couple of years back at their laddish yet family friendly Muldersdrift brewery. So, I pondered, here was the chance to get re-acquainted and see how this pioneer had stood the test of time. 

The bottle looks nice and 'olde timey' and indeed, the brewers describe the contents as a dark rich ale made in the age old way. This, apparently, includes the addition of a 'majestic' yeast. According the the website, even the sophisticated superspy James Bond drinks the stuff. As we decanted, we came to understand why the quintessential British icon might be so inclined. Despite a vigorous pour, the beer rested in the glass looking like dark tea. The bottle claims this is done in an Irish style, but since I don't know a jig from a blarney stone, I can't really say. Regardless, I suspect James Bond wouldn't be caught dead drinking something from the emerald isle.

Coming to taste, we hoped the majestic yeast might spawn some leprechaun magic to lift the beer above its uninspiring appearance. Alas, from the taste of it, majestic means lazy. Perhaps too many jigs for that leprechaun. Instead, the taste stayed true to the look: barely carbonated and a bit like iced tea on the tongue. Still, the taste would let it pass for a middling real ale at a midlands country pub. A friend, fresh from the US, found it reminiscent of Negra Modelo, a dark German style lager made in Mexico. I can see that, but unless you drink a great number of these, it's unlikely you'll be moved to dance around your hat or take Michael Flatley for a spin.

As for the hornpipe, the bottle defends its almost absent carbonation as allowing the beer to "dance on tongue but cause no distress to the tummy." That's another way of saying it's flat. Which is kind of right; in more ways than one. Perhaps 007 should stick to his Martinis.

A Smack for all Saisons

Maboneng Mamas

Took some out of town visitors down to the newly developed Maboneng for the weekly Sunday market. The elder was an urban studies professor always keen to see what's happening with ever dynamic Jozi. His world-weary teenage daughter tagged along, evidently tired of following her dad through all sorts of strange African developments. While there has been some controversy around the redevelopment of the precinct, what with it being a solidly middle class reclamation of the area and the like. But I tell you, if the alternative is another shopping mall chock full of Mugg and Beans, Messieurs Price and Baskets of Ocean, I choose this. By the time it spreads to another 45 buildings courtesy of the uber-rich 29 year old, Jonathan Lieberman, it may have lost its charm. For now, the place was bustling with cool. Even if the district doesn't appeal to those who find Rosebank dangerously close to Soweto, it was packed with people of all sorts (well, of the middle class sort) smoking, being hip and looking generally far cooler than me. Even the teenager was impressed.

The Soldier and the Saison

After wandering around the market and watching the daughter get her shop on, we hungered up and helped ourselves to a whole fish fried fresh and laying on a bed of some of the hottest, oilyest, and most delicious chips I've had in yonks. With a dash of chili and spice, the white flesh peeled cleanly off the bone as we settled into the courtyard's winter sunshine.

Smack's almost Subterranean Shop

Before getting too comfortable, we meandered past the precinct's hole in the wall brewery, Smack Republic for one of their offerings. From the three tapped up and pouring and we went for the Maboneng Maverick, their take on a saison. While I don't often gravitate to this French style farmhouse ale (there's a reason we know them for wine), this seemed better suited to the sun-kissed weather and our handfuls of fried finger food than the otherwise tempting experimental bourbon and vanilla infused Stout.

Once we finally got to drinking, the Michigan friend felt the Smack Saison failed to measure up to his hometown favourite, Bell's Two Hearted Ale. When pressed, he admitted that even if Bells is a fine, solidly crafted beer, the Smack boys had created a solid contender (a 6 or 7 compared with Bells' 10 by his estimation). Sipped from a plastic cup in the Sunday sun I couldn't imagine anything all that much better. Even if saisons don't typically shout flavours, this one shot a cool sharpness. Served deeply chilled, it nevertheless put forward a spiciness thanks to a good mix of hops and the somewhat non-traditional naartjie peel and black pepper. Say what you will about these alien additives, but they worked. Slightly sweet and heavily carbonated – a bit too bubbly for my tastes – it was it was nonetheless just about the right thing for the day. Despite the fancy pictures on the website, they don't bottle or distribute (yet). Given that they're brewing from what amounts to an over-sized closet, it's impressive they're able to even make more than one beer at a time.  Regardless, if you want a taste, you have to come to the market to get one. While it may not be worth a trip from Michigan, if you're in Joburg on a Sunday, make the journey.

Youth and Sir Thomas Brewing Company's Hangklip IPA

Drinking in the Future's Shadow

What better way to honour the youth than by sitting in the sun drinking a beer? Sure, it's not what the holiday is about and we ought not forget past sacrifices. Yet, if freedom from oppression doesn't include casual drinking with a diverse crowd in a northern suburban park, then we still have a long way to go. Besides, really, what do the young like better than beer? That's right, nothing. And while young'uns might not all line up behind Sir Thomas Brewing's Hangklip's IPA, there's going to be some who do. Those are the ones to watch; they're going places. As I drank it surrounded by tykes and food trucks at Parkview's food truck festival in George Hay Park, I toasted their prospects and quietly celebrated the future generations. 

Let's be honest, this is an IPA for the people; a journeyman for the jol. It is unlikely to please snobbish connoisseurs and even modest critics will easily recognise its failure to crest the pinnacle of taste and balance. (We followed the Hangklip with a smuggled Rogue 7 Hop IPA, a masterly brew bursting with botanical bounty.) That said, it was a solid entry offering little to offend and plenty to please. The nose was generally hoppy although missing many of the flowery scents found in its more sophisticated cousins. Bitterness dominated on the tongue with no distinguishable citrus, pine or resin flavours despite the strong hop presence. One reviewer found dates and grapefruit in there, but we couldn't. If there was something resembling dates it came from the malt which offered more general sweetness than specific flavours. What somehow managed to punch through were hints of a Belgian-like yeast, a taste unexpected for a South African IPA but not unpleasant (Belgian inspired IPAs have established a niche elsewhere). The cloudiness could also help it make a play with the Walloons although the slightly harsh over-carbonation – possibly a result of drinking this at Jozi altitudes – might see it side-lined. At only five percent alcohol, it is a beer for the everyday and the everyman (and woman). Some might dismiss it as milquetoast but such an approach may well help win over generation next. 

Cloudy with a Chance of Tasty

I found this beer at Norman Goodfellows in Illovo for about thirty odd. If you hit the shop you'll see it has one of the best selections of bottled South African beers in the country (and the only place I've seen Hangklip). Many of those on offer will similarly dent your wallet and look just as pretty on your shelf. Ultimately the selling point should be taste. Although Hangklip may not be everyone's favourite, it's a solid offering that adds depth to the mzansi IPA stable. In honour of our youth, past and present, it's certainly worth a turn. Sir, yes sir.

Devil's Peak Revisited: IPAs Standing Tall

Filled to the brim with Cape Townians

It's not my way to revisit old haunting grounds, but as my last visit to Devil's Peak's Salt River taproom was curtailed by a private party, it seemed just the place to start a beery Cape Town weekend. As much as Jozi may rightfully claim its place as the country's economic engine, there's no place as good as the Western Cape to sample South Africa's burgeoning beer scene. 

Once again the place was packed as one might expect on a Friday evening. Turns out it was end of term for the nearby Universities and a running club decided there could be no better place for post-run hydration. I couldn't agree more. That this place officially serves the best beer in South Africa only boosts the busy.

Looking at the menu, I was drawn to two tap-only offerings. The first was a blaster - the black IPA. Given my almost idolotrous love for their 'regular' King's Blockhouse, I knew this one was going to be full of flavour (and to be fair, I had tasted it in December, but in a rush). Described in the menu as dark, hoppy and rich but crisp, it certainly didn't disappoint. My benchmark here is Firestone Walker's Wookey Jack, one of my all time stars. But since I hadn't had that one in months, a direct comparison wasn't possible. Still, there's little doubt the Cape Townian could hold its own. Lighter in alcohol than the Wookey and with the double IPA maltiness, the crisp flavour stood tall alongside the dark roasted malt which lent it the almost charred bitterness of a nice porter. Despite the intensity, it retained a light mouthfeel even if the glass remains dark when held up to the bright kitchen lights. The hops are a bit flatter than the King's Blockhouse without the citrus buzz, but the beer was still swimming with the precious flowers. When we asked which ones, 'European hops' is all the barman could or would reveal.

TheIPAs stand tall

Speaking of Europeans and barmen, apart from those working the taps, this was by far the darkest thing in the place. I'm sure there are those comforted by these last enclaves. It seems if you want entry here you need an electronic cigarette, a beard (if you're a dude), part of your head shaved (men and women) or vanilla dreads. That the bleached blond next to me spoke with the one white bartender of the, "little Indian man" who had served them earlier made me glad to live in Jozi.

A hunk of beer battered deliciousness

The second round was meant to go to the rye saison, described on the menu as medium to strong fruity/spicy. Alas, its tap had run dry so I was 'forced' into tasting their Imperial IPA, something that's not (yet?) bottled and had escaped me until now. Almost the same colour as the Blockhouse, there was a slighter fainter citrus nose with more of the resinous tones wafting into the nose. Thicker on the tongue and rich down the throat the maltiness was well balanced. This is something like a hot rod version of the regular IPA: slightly less delicate but nonetheless controlled and bursting with vooma. Delicious and well suited to warm one's cockles during the forthcoming Cape Town winter.

Although I came for the beer, it's worth noting the food wasn't too shabby. Sure, this is not where you go to sample Cape Town's finest cuisine, but for it's simple menu, they do the dishes right. Saison battered fish with chops and a flavour rich broccoli and goat cheese salad.The neighbour's pizza made me hope he'd look the other way so I could grab a slice.

About half way through the evening, one of Cape Town's hapless youth sidled up to bar asking the bartender for a Castle draught and Coke Zero. Asked to repeat himself, he confirmed what he was after. Taken aback and almost speechless, the bar tender stumbled over his words as he looked in exasperation for an empathetic eye. Rolling his, he informed the young man that the Castle was fresh out, but perhaps he could be happy with the beers made on site. Chastened he left with a First Light and Coke Light. Not sure which was for the lady.  

Only down side of the evening was at some point the place ran out of pint glasses and couldn't serve. Either lots of Cape Townians are filling their cupboards with these vessels or someone forgot to do their washing.

Jozi Craft Beer Fest 2014

Walked through jam packed parking lot to make it to the 2014 Jozi Craft beer Fest. Credit to the good people at League of Beers for organising the mechanical bull and

ride'm cowboy

ping pong tables. True Jozi style? Don't know much about the city's cowboy heritage but all can be forgiven when bathed in that gorgeous autumn sun with just enough high  clouds to keep us from roasting.

Speaking of roasting, there was food too. The vittles will be largely familiar to regular Johannesburg market goers: mustachioed Balkan Burger, overpriced pulled pork tacos absent any Mexican zest, undercooked paella seasoned with what tasted like aromat, and slightly spendy but solid fire roasted pizza. In true Mzansi style, there wasn't much for the vegetarians among us. For the few still eating dairy, the homemade ice cream looked good but we weren't in the mood for a float. Rather, it was the beers calling.

Swimming in Aromat

And there were beers.  Almost all the well knowns and a few local start-ups made the cut filling almost 30 tents with bottles and kegs.  Among them were a couple of distillers and one anachronistic (yet delicious) Scottish brewing company. For the most part, the staff were friendly, knowledgeable and proud of their pours. Yet there were a few baffling exceptions where the local ambassadors knew almost nothing of what they're serving. Telling you that a beer is popular is not quite up to snuff. But let me not judge -- at a place like this there is always another tap waiting for attention.

The first beer catching our eye was a Haarties local that had somehow escaped my lips for too long. From their good variety, we plopped our tokens down for Chameleon Brewhouse's American pale ale. Made with amarillo and cascade hops - words that sound so sweet with a heavy Afrikaans accent -- its captivating fragrance reassured us that it wasn't brewed with water from the nearby dam. The dark brown beer was capped with a good frothy head that stuck around until the very end. On the tongue it was smooth and fruitily hoppy - as one would expect from those hops - with a touch of sourness on the finish but nothing to erase the round balance at the beer's center. I half expected a hint of mampoer but certainly wasn't disappointed with what I got. Turned out to be one of the day's surprises.

Haarties hits Jozi

Next up was Aces Brew Worx (sic) IPA. I've tasted their middle of the road lager before and can't say I've been much impressed. This is the first time seeing any other offerings most which were brewed especially for the festival on contract by an ex-Bavarian beermaker at Swagger brewery in Alberton. These trial balloons included a blond, a red, a pale ale, and an IPA. Not surprisingly we went Indian. At only 4.5% ABV - a good 2-3 points below what it should be - I was skeptical. They said it was made with cascade hops but since it was sub-contracted they couldn't be sure. In the sun the beer looked like a dark rooibos tea with a corporate looking head of big bubbles. The smell was fresh but faint and a bit lagerish. Things didn't improve much past the lips where there was almost no hop profile and the malt presented no sweetness or warmth. That wasn't so bad, but the chlorine finish was made less pleasant with evocations of President Zuma's fire pool. If this was a test, it passed like a Limpopo maths student. (To be fair we shared it with a couple others who proclaimed it creamy and delish, so to each his own. But I won't budge on something: that ain't no IPA). 

Wondering why the chameleon's not turning blue

After that disappointment, we took a break from beer to try out Drayman's single malt whiskey. I'm always pleased to see South Africa trying it's hand beyond brandy and as a whiskey drinker, what choice did I have but to give it a go? Their festival neighbours, Jorgensen's Distillery, have already established a fine reputation even if it's not nearly as tastily innovative as Inverroche (who were nowhere to be seen). Jorgies was showing off a 500 rand bottle of absinthe which I didn't have the courage (or the cash) to try so I stuck with Drayman's. While their Emporer IPA fell short earlier in the year, this was a perfectly drinkable whiskey that could rival an entry level Scotch. That they served the single malt with ice with nary a thought did make me wonder what they were hiding. That it was R400 made me think maybe they were hiding just how overpriced it was. At 200 I'd go local and buy, but not at twice the price.

Three's Company

Back to the beer and Standeaven Brewery's Three Hop IPA. I haven't been particularly chuffed by their wide variety of widely available offerings but the hoppy promise drew me to this one. The eponymous trinity included an experimental offering from Charles Glass mixed with the country's homegrown Southern Promise and Southern Passion. Shaun Standeaven took a break from pouring to explain that they made this festival special specifically to highlight the oft overlooked -- and somewhat maligned -- local hop offerings. Although it's not available anywhere else just yet, I hope it will be. It poured out with creamy head comprised of ultra fine bubbles. While it's cloudiness made it look like a slightly coppery wheat beer, its nose had enough floral hop aroma and light citrus lilt to claim its place as an IPA.  The fruitiness was there too as you drank although it faded as the glass emptied. So while it doesn't bang you with IBUs, it has a flavour that is comfortably distinctive. Sure, it is a bit watery without an alcohol punch, but it's balanced nonetheless. By far the best foot they've put forward. Maybe a new category: African IPA or, better yet, session IPA? I could certainly drink a few. And big props to Shaun and his fam for sticking South and highlighting what Mzansi has to offer. 

Back to Jozi with Smack Republic and their Braamfontein Brawler IPA. Unlike Standeavan, these guys went all-American with imported cascade and amarillo hops. Having been on sale for a year - almost always on draft - it apparently isn't keeping pace with their golden ale and honey rooibos. Still, the brewers claim it sells and they're going to keep it flowing. At 4.1 percent it's also low on the alcohol, a persistent problem with the local IPAs. What it lacked in punch it made up for with its rich red copper color and a finely laced head. While their saison is seasoned with spicy black pepper, this one smelled sour. Alas, it tasted sour too. There's hops and malt but they were lost behind a kind of tamarind forwardness that might help explain why this isn't a best seller. I'd tasted it before at their brewery in in Maboneng and had fonder memories. From here on out, I'll stick with their Maboneng Maverick complete with rooibos and honey. No sourness there. 

Brewhog's Apiwe Nxusani, free (from SAB) at last

Mark's Park Massive

As things for us were winding down, we passed by the Brewhog's barrel and got to wondering what they were about. Turns out it's a new brewery in Kyalami with an SAB refugee making a premium pilsner and an original red lager. Still small and not yet bottling, they sell largely through the Hogshead restaurants and pubs. Although not normally inclined to lagers, I felt compelled to give them a go.  As it turns out, the red was tasty if mainly malty, as reds are wont to be. Served very cold and lightly carbonated it had a blockier, more corporate taste than anything else I had, but with an underlying freshness. Finished solid with a touch of sweetness from the malt. Maybe not my cup of tea but an undeniably nice beer and a giant step for womankind. 

With our final tokens we revisited an old friend: the King's Block House IPA from Devil's Peak. I've reviewed the beer elsewhere and have no reason to redact any of my praise. That this nectar won South African beer of the year is no surprise given that it already clinched top spot in Mzansi Beer's IPA smack-down. That we got a full glass for half the price was a pleasant one. That they may open a brewhouse in Jozi by the end of 2014 is enough to make the heart sing. The rest of you better bring your A game.

Welcome to paradise

A big hand to the folks at League of Beers and Jozi beer fest for pulling this together. Whoever you are, you know how to throw a party.

Cockpit in Cullinan: Mustang meets Spitfire

One of the local pioneers of the local craft beer movement, I was drawn to Cockpit's the Mustang American Pale when it won the best of beer prize a few years back. At that point, I was convinced that Andre, the brewer, was making one of the best beers in the country.  Clearly others agreed. 

And while he imports his hops (and it shows), he doesn't do much to distribute his beer. If you want his stuff, you you've got to make the trip. And that's exactly what we did.

We pulled in to the reinvented mining town of Cullinan after almost running over a few billy goats and street hawkers on the journey through Mamelodi. Set in a strip of old mine managers' houses, the  The Cockpit Brewhouse was but one in a strip of sunny, rambling gardens filled with folks enjoying a warm autumn afternoon. So while her majesty, the Queen of England may have ended up with the town's most famous product, Spanakopita, eisbein, mystical Himalayan salt and crystals, or kitsch jewelery are on offer for us commoners. Meandering down the the street could hear live music from the Cockpit.  Knowing that classic rock and beer always gel, we hurried down the road and grabbed the last free picnic table outside. Once the band took a break, it became a relaxed local feel with a smattering of yanks and uitlanders like us.

After being greeted by the friendly staff, we ordered up the Mustang American Pale and the Spitfire

English Ale. The menu claims the latter to be a 'true session' beer while the Mustang was described as a showcase for tropical and citrus fruit. Only taste will tell.

When it arrived, the Spitfire looked right: lightly carbonated with small, fine bubbles making a pancake of a head. In the glass it was slightly cloudy with a rich, red tinged coppery colour. It proved light on the nose with hints of sourness. By the time it got on the tongue, that sourness blossomed into a sourdough like taste. Having spent my fair share of time in blighty's pubs, this is not quite what I expected as the English bitters tends towards light and fruity if anything. Still, on its own terms it was not unpleasant to be sure and boasts considerably more flavour than many a limey pint. The Kenyan pondered that it might be nice at the end of a long run to rehydrate and re-energise: a kind of alcoholic gatorade. We also agreed it would probably do well with bar food. Since we weren't likely to go jogging off into the veld any time soon, we opened up the meat-heavy bar menu. As it turns out, it did indeed go nicely with our fish & chips and the pulled pork special. So, while not a remarkable offerring, it is indeed a solid one.

Pulled Pig

Yeehaw, I said, let's tame that Mustang. This American champ came in a tall hourglass glass, considerably headier than its British counterpart. Despite this, it showed up only fine bubbles and was far more lightly carbonated than many yankee brews. It also looked like it had spent a bit more time in the sun and had become cloudier and more browned than the Spitfire: a golden caramel up and down. The smell was generally beery with faint citrus that was overwhelmed by the smoker at the next table. In the mouth the hops jump forward in their citrusy fullness. Malt counters for a nice combination of tastes. Still, it felt somehow feels pushed together - almost like a malty beer blended with a hoppy one in ways that don't yet completely fit. Tastes with food we lost a bit of the hoppiness and tasted more caramel sweetness. There was no doubt I would pick this over the spitfire to be sure but no long certain I would drive the hour to come get it when there's beer springing up in town. As an outing, it's more than worth the drive although one has to be sure of making it home safe. And at 30 rand a pint, this has to be one of the better craft beer values around.

The British Spitfire and its more mighty American cousin

Copperlake Jozi Pale Ale

The Radium Beer Hall is one of the best places to grab a drink in Joburg. Although not in the most stylish part of town, you simply can't beat the vibe at rush hour with traffic honking its way down Louis Botha en route to Alex and beyond. The owners claim it's the second oldest bar in town and it looks like some of the regulars have been there since opening day.  But the natives are friendly and

Always Beer O'clock

it is one of the few places you'll find such diversity of people -- colour, class, and even a smattering of single professional women (not the 'working girl' variety) -- lounging together. The food is predictable and priced right and the beer selection has become increasingly varied. As long as I can remember, they've had Hansa, Black Label, Castle and Kilkenny on top. Back in the dark-days of local brewing, I was grateful for even this smattering. Some time back they installed a Mitchell's tap which made the drive to Orange Grove worth the effort. They've now traded that it for two locally made specialities. The Ace's Lager will have to wait for another time. Even if they have cool glasses, I'll almost always take an ale first. And that's just what I did.

To be fair, when I started out, I wasn't entirely sure what I was drinking. The friendly bar tender served this up as Ace's Pale Ale. Although it came spilling over the top of a Guinness glass, the guy next to me was drinking his out of an Ace's pint glass so I soldiered on in my ignorance. As I walked out I double checked the tap and realised he was mistaken. The barman didn't have much else to add about the beer other than its popular, they often sell out, and he didn't quite understand why people would want to drink it.  

Truth be told, after having made it through the pint, I was also not fully convinced why anyone would want to drink it. Sure, there are worse beers out there, plenty of them, but if there's a choice, this would probably not be mine. The beer arrived (incognito) looking good: it was dark bronzy gold with a head of fairly large bubbles capping the thing with all the pride of an EFF beret. Not to impugn the EFF lest they try to nationalise mzansi beer for the good of the people, but what was under this beery beret had about as much credentials as the party's commander in chief. Up close and personal, the

smell was fairly rich and beery with some strong earthy notes, but otherwise without much to draw you in. It could probably pass in a blind taste test as a strong lager.

Copperlake atop the Famous Ferreirastown Bar

On the tongue?  To its credit, the beer has taste. It's just not the kind of taste I was looking for. Rather, it offered a sourness that lingered on the middle of the mouth for too long after the beer itself went down my gullet. There was an almost a tamarind-like tang but without the balance that makes Asian food sing. I thought that perhaps the tap had been open too long or it was otherwise skunked but the beer man assured me it was freshly tapped and fresh from the distributor.  But then again, what does he know?  

So, just as we're all excited to see new players on the political agenda, we should applaud Copperlake's appearance on the Radium's roster. Showing up gets you a look and taste, but if you want to stick around, you're going to have to offer more than the right look and a fancy hat. If someone bought me another round of this one, I'd probably drink it. If I'm paying for myself, I'd pick the Hansa.