Saturday 13 May 2017

Magical drinking

Avowed materialist and rationalist that I am I still think that there is something magical about cask beer. As I brewer and scientist I once explained at great length to a wine drinking friend of mine how beer gets its flavour. I went through malt types and grist composition, mashing conditions and fermentability, hop varieties and hop additions, yeast strains and fermentation temperatures, but when it got to cask conditioning I faltered. There's something it can bring to beer that I could only describe as magic. This got short shrift from my friend who'd patiently sat through me droning on about enzymes, IBUs and EBCs and Maillard reactions. But magic was the best word I could come up with.

It only happens occasionally, but it's never happened with anything I've drunk from a bottle, can or keg. The moment when angels descend from heaven to dance on your tongue and exalt the most high is the preserve of cask. It can strike in unexpected places, and with the most innocuous looking of beers. The best pint I ever drank was a national brand in a basic pub on a dull Friday night. And much to my surprise I once passed on the stronger beers in the sample room at Harvey's Brewery to spend an hour drinking only the 3% ABV mild because the good lord had seen fit to send his angels down from heaven and into the mild cask. I wonder if CAMRA theologians have discussed how many angels can fit though a shive hole?

The fact I have to invoke magic to explain the wonders of cask beer does trouble me slightly so I have pondered how exactly they occur. The lack of filtration and pasteurisation must play a part, and along with the lower carbonation and higher temperature compared to inferior serving methods the flavour of the beer is maximised. But why is it that only occasionally the beer goes from being good to truly sublime? And is there anything else that brewers and publicans can do to make it happen more often? As ever, more research is needed. 






8 comments:

  1. The experience of having a flavour develop, not from moment to moment but as you go down the glass, is something I've had over and over again with (good) cask beer; I've never had it with keg. I've had some superb keg beers, with subtle and complex flavours, but the flavours work together differently: you get it all at once, clearly and distinctly, and then you get it all at once again. Carbonation? Serving temperature? Something to do with continuing fermentation in the cask, even? No idea what's behind this effect, but experience says it's there.

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    1. Carbonation and temperature must be involved, but if you let beer packaged in inferior formats go a bit flat, it just ends up tasting...a bit flat. It's a strange one.

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  2. Definitely temperature, all that warm goodness is doing its work as opposed to chilling the hell out of everything to below 3°C!

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  3. I resting exoerience with Pretty Things Barclay Perkins 1837 X Ale. Over a couple of days I had this one beer in cask, keg and bottled format. When the cask was first tapped, it didn't taste that diffferent from the other formats. Returning after three days to the pub with the cask, I was amazed how much the beer had improved. It was way, way better than it had been before. And obviously far superior to the other formats.

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    1. It seems it took a while for the angels to descend from heaven and get in the cask!

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  4. It is, indeed, a mystery, though I'd disagree that the magic only happens with cask ale: I had a bottle of 2002 Fuller's Vintage Ale one New Year's Eve that was pure beery bliss.

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    1. I've only noticed the magic with cask so it's interesting you found it in a bottled beer. Though I can't imagine any 3% ABV mild ever having the magic in bottle. I must do some more research on my stash of Vintage Ales...

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