Beer Review: Singha Lager Beer

NEXT up in my round-up of Asian beers is Singha Lager Beer.

This large 630 millilitre bottle is from Tesco. I’ve not seen it sold in cans or smaller bottles, only ever in this gigantic quantity. Let’s hope that it’s a good beer then.

The bottle top has Singha’s dragon logo and the name of the brewer. Which, if I’m reading it correctly, is Boon Rawd Brewery Co. Ltd.

The neck of the label isn’t surrounded by a normal label. But rather that crinkly foil that sometimes gets used to add that ‘premium’ feel.

This neck foil keeps the attractive white and gold colour scheme. It has an impressive, if unintelligible symbol, and the words “Thai Beer”. That nails the origin then. This beer is from Thailand.

The main front label keep the same colour scheme. But it’s dominated by an enormous gold dragon.

Just under the Singha name are the words “Premium” and “Import”. Both of which are good, but “Import” is what stands out. That’s because both Asahi Super Dry and Cobra Extra Smooth weren’t. They were brewed here, not in Asia. And that’s something that makes Singha a little more special.

Under the huge gold dragon and pictures of hops, Singha describe that as a “Lager Beer”. And that this has been the “Original Thai Beer Since 1933″. Good stuff. An Asian beer with heritage behind it. The first so for on this round-up, in fact.

Underneath that, in rather smaller text is the name of the brewer; “Singha Corporation Co., Ltd.”. And the place of origin, which is apparently “Bangkok, Thailand”.

The back label is quite a lot smaller. And much more crowded than the front.

The ingredients are listed as “Water, Malt and Hops”. The amount of beer is listed in more ways than I’ve ever seen it listed before. It’s given as 63.0 cl, 630 ml, 0.630 l and 21.3 fl. oz. Has anyone here ever measured their drinks by fluid ounces? If that’s your thing, then you’ve got it listed on this bottle.

This bottle was imported by Entbe Ltd of Slough, England. If you want to write them a letter or give them a phone call, all of that information is on here. There’s also an email address listed, which is info@singhabeer.co.uk. I’ve not tried it, so if you do try emailing them, let me know in the comments section if you get a response from them.

The website address of www.singhabeer.com is printed on there. But if you’re British, you’d probably want to go to www.singhabeer.co.uk instead.

The brewing and bottling of this beer in Thailand is confirmed yet again on the back. And, hidden away for some reason is the alcoholic volume. Which at a respectable 5%, could be more prominent. Why not print it on the front label like everyone else?

When it came to pouring, I took a chance on my big, continental glass. And guess what? All 630 millilitres of it went in perfectly. None left over and no spillage.

 

The head looked promising at first. But sadly, it died down to become just a cluster of tiny bubbles on the surface.

The colour of the stuff looks about right for a lager. It looks fizzy, too. Hopefully it won’t be too gassy.

The smell is roughly what you’d expect from a lager. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the usual blend of malted barley and hops. All of which are hardly noticeable.

A couple of gulps in, and everything seems normal. In fact, there’s not much that makes this lager stand out at all. It has a faint bitterness and sour aftertaste from the hops. And not an awful lot more, in terms of flavour.

What else can I say about this lager? Well, it is refreshing. It’s a hot day here in London, and I’m glad to have a cool bottle of Singha Lager Beer to hand. Were I to visit Thailand, I’d happily buy a few bottles of this brew.

It’s not as gassy as I feared it might be. And for a lager, it does have a “premium” quality feel to it.

It’s also very easy to drink. With no flavours to offend the taste buds, it’s almost like drinking water. And therein lies my complaint. Although it’s a complaint that I level at all lagers. I like character, body and flavour, but that’s not what a lager is all about.

Singha Lager Beer is exactly that, a lager beer. It’s easy to drink, refreshing and fairly strong at 5%. Compared to other lagers, it’s not bad. But seeing this on the shelf next to bottles of beer and ale that are packed with flavour, this one couldn’t possibly get picked.

This is one of those straightforward, quality lagers that would go very well with a spicy meal. Or a trip to Thailand. On it’s own, it’s not as interesting as what else is on the crowded shop shelves. But in the right place, at the right time, it’s ideal.

Rating: 3.7

Have you tried Singha Lager Beer? What did you think of it?
Got any corrections, thoughts, ideas or suggestions? Then leave a comment!

Beer Review: Cobra Extra Smooth Premium Lager Beer

NEXT on my round-up of Asian beers is Cobra Extra Smooth Premium Lager Beer. But since I’ve not seen any other Cobra beers on sale, you’ll probably know it simply as Cobra. Or as the beer you get when you go for a curry.

I like the look of this bottle. It’s got an attractive, Indian style yellow colour-scheme. It has a big neck-label and a small wrap around label further down. But best of all, the glass is embossed with all manner of images. There’s a scales, a snake charmer, a boat, some text I can’t understand, elephants, palm trees and a building. Having all of those in the form of raised glass around the bottle is excellent. It’s the first one I’ve seen that actually has a texture. You can feel the raised glass when you wrap your hand around the bottle. This could be the new trend in beer bottles. You saw it here first.

The bottle top squeezes in a surprising amount of text.

There’s the usual marketing material about natural ingredients, authentic recipes and prizes. But the origin is proudly announced as Bangalore, India.

The neck label is where most of the facts are, so let’s get stuck in.

The front of the neck-label gives us all the main facts. The Cobra name is there. With the words “Extra Smooth” above it. And presumably the same words in an Indian language below it. Can anyone out there confirm what it says please?

Also prominently on there are the alcoholic volume; which is a respectable 5%. And the size of the bottle, which is 330 millilitres. Although I have seen larger in the shops.

It is a little confusing about what type of Cobra beer this actually is. You see, under the logo are the words “Premium Beer”. So is this Cobra Premium Beer? But above it, we’re told that this is “Double Filtered For An Extra Smooth Taste”, and that this is “Extra Smooth”. So is this actually called Cobra Extra Smooth instead? In the absence of any confirmation, I’ll call this one Cobra Extra Smooth Premium Beer. That covers everything.

Turning the bottle around, and we can see some more of the neck label.

Just like Asahi Super Dry, we’re in for a let down. It isn’t imported, but bottled and brewed in the EU for Cobra Beer Ltd in London.

The web address on this side of the label is www.cobrabeer.com. On this side of the label is also the story. And unlike most of the label, it isn’t repeated in lots of different languages.

Buried in the marketing-speak are some surprising facts. As well as the usual blend of barley malt, yeast, maize and hops, this beer has rice. Yes, rice is part of the blend. What effect that will have on the taste, I’m looking forward to finding out.

As well as boasting the typical distinctiveness, cleanness and smoothness, Cobra also goes on the boast something unusual. Yet also very welcome. The slogan “Cobra - The Less Gassy Bottled Beer” is outstanding. I’ve never seen a beer sell itself on how un-gassy it is. A very clever selling point, if you read the label thoroughly enough to find it. This should be much more prominent.

Going by what it goes on the mention, my guess is that they’ve got the blend of unusual ingredients just right. You see, Cobra have won the Gold Medal of the Monde Selection, World Quality Awards in Brussels from 2001 through to 2006. That’s five years running. A staggering achievement.

Over on the other side of the neck label, there’s the usual small print.

If you’re interested, this bottle has 1.7 UK units of alcohol. But next that that label were a couple of little symbols I thought were nice touches. There’s a tiny, circular “Premium Extra Beer” symbol. And a little, rectangular picture of a cobra. What the point of them are, I don’t know. But quirky beers are good beers in my book.

The front of the thin, wrap-around label in the middle of the bottle features all the medals it’s won.

And the words “The Most Celebrated Beer In The World” raise keep your expectations sky-high.

The left-hand-side of the narrow label tells the origin of Cobra. Dating back to 1989, it doesn’t have heritage. But it does have Karan Bilimoria deciding that the world needs a different kind of beer. The world needs more Karan Bilimoria’s. Good on him.

The right-hand-side of the narrow label expands the story still further.

We learn that Cobra is now made in five different countries. And that it’s Indian, British, global and local. You’ve got to admire their ambition and diplomacy.

After all of that, I feel like I know Cobra quite intimately. And that’s before we’ve even got to the taste testing. Without further delay, let’s crack open this intriguing little bottle.

After opening the bottle, I was surprised to see something printed on the inside of the bottle top. This time a “CoolBrands” award from 2006/07, awarded for “Innovation”, “Style” and “Desirability”. This is the first time I’ve seen anything printed on the inside of a bottle top.

After pouring, there was a fizzy head, but that soon died down to practically nothing.

The drink itself is a lager-y amber colour. And with a typical amount of bubbles rising to the surface.

Perhaps because of the blend, the smell is a bit different. It does smell of malted barley, yeast and hops. But, there’s more to it that I can’t put my finger on. And it’s not in the same proportions as it is with other beers.

This is reflected in the taste. Which is equally unusual in its blend of tastes. This is going to take much more than the 330 millilitre in this bottle to figure out.

The main tastes that I’m picking up are a slight, but not lingering bitterness. Then you notice, or start to notice all the things that went into the blend. Hints of the arable, like the malted barley, maize, hops and yeast are there. I think. It’s hard to be sure. I certainly can’t rule out some hint of rice being in there too.

This truly is an unusual beer. It doesn’t taste like any other, let alone any other lager. Yet none of the flavours really jump out at you. They’re all surprisingly subtle. Yet because of everything in there, it has a fuller-flavour than most beers. Nearly up to the level of an ale.

Other things to say about it are that it isn’t gassy. Exactly as promised on the bottle. Although I still managed a couple of burps, thanks to this bottle. I can also see why it’s one of the curry beers of choice. Without having strong flavours of it’s own, it would be just what you want with your vindaloo.

To look for downsides, I’d say that it’s not so great on its own. Without a meal to go with it, it’s lacking. You find yourself wishing that one of its many flavours would stand out and give you something to focus on.

I liked Cobra. And I can see why it won so many awards. I was expecting another bland Asian approximation of a beer. But instead, Cobra Extra Smooth Premium Lager Beer was a very pleasant surprise. It is distinctive and unusual. But also refreshing and drinkable. Surprisingly good stuff.

Rating: 4

Have you tried Cobra? What did you think?
Got any translations, correction, ideas or suggestions? Then leave a comment in the comments box!

Beer Review: Asahi Super Dry

THIS week, I feel like trying some of the growing number of Asian beers on our shop shelves. The big names like Cobra and Tiger will follow shortly, but I wanted to start this round-up with this: Asahi Super Dry.

Just one corner shop on my local Bethnal Green Road stocks this Oriental oddity. Curiosity took over and I just had to see what this would be like. The closest I’ve had, have been Chinese beers like Tsingtao during my gap-year. Whether this Japanese beer will be anything like that legendary Chinese beer, I’m looking forward to finding out.

The bottle top has a very stylised “Asahi” name. Plus the Japanese calligraphy for what I presume is the same name. If you can translate the Japanese text, I’d be very interested to hear from you, so leave a comment at the end of this post.

The neck label is the first time we see Asahi’s unique look. The black and red print on a shiny silver background is excellent. The text on the neck label tells us that Asahi is Japan’s number one beer. A fact that must count for something. The word “Premium” is on their too. Whether that means that this is “Asahi Premium” or if the “Premium” refers to something else, I’m not sure.

The front label is somewhat overcrowded. There’s definitely a lot on there to get through.

At the very top and outside the octagonal border are the words “Asahi Beer”. Also outside the border, and in equally small lettering, it tells us that this has been brewed under licence from Asahi Breweries Ltd, Japan. And again, outside the border, but this time at the bottom of the label, we’re told that this is a 330 millilitre bottle. And that it has a volume of 5%. Not outstandingly strong, but far from weak. And that’s a promising sign.

In the bordered area of the label are all sorts of text and Japanese text. It’s hard to know where to begin. Under the Asahi Breweries Limited logo is the slogan “A Beer For All Seasons”. As slogans go, it’s not what I’d call memorable.

The Super Dry description is amusing. For reasons know only to themselves, only the word “Dry” has quotation marks. Not the word “Super”. So it reads as Super “Dry”. As if the characteristic of dryness is ironic. Has something been lost in translation here?

Under the large, stylised Asahi name is an unusually big block of text. And that block is split and underlined by some Japanese text. If you can translate what it says, do please leave a comment at the end of this post.

The English text however, starts off with the usual mentions of quality ingredients. It then describes what to expect with words including “Richness”, “Refreshing” and “Smoothness”. And an extended version of their slogan: “All Year Round You Can Enjoy the Great Taste of Asahi Beer”. Not if you live in London. It’s not exactly widely available yet.

Over on the back label, and everything is cleaner and neater.

It opens by telling us that Asahi is pronounced “Ah-Sah-Hee”. Also that it’s Japan’s number one premium beer. And that it is known for being “clean”, “crisp” and “refreshing”. All good, if vague stuff in my opinion.

Under where it says that it contains barley malt is a disappointing piece of news. Asahi Super Dry hasn’t been imported. Instead, it’s been brewed and bottled in the UK. Still, at least you can write to their European headquarters in London using the postal address given. Or visit their website at http://www.asahibeer.co.uk/. Finally, tucked away in the corner is the familiar UK units of alcohol symbol. All of 1.6 for this little bottle.

In the glass, everything looks fine.

There’s a thick head, which dies down a little over a minute or two. And the colour is a light yellow with a lot of bubbles. This is going to be a fizzy and gassy experience by the look of things.

The smell is… not sophisticated. It’s of malted barley and possibly hops. But it’s not overpowering either.

Just a couple of gulps confirm just how gassy this is. It is one of the most gas filled beers I’ve tried. Asahi Super “Dry” tastes much as you’d expect. An indistinctive blend of malted barley and hops. It reminds me of lager rather too much.

But it’s not all bad. It is “clean”, “crisp” and “refreshing”. And quite a fun, drinkable beer. But the “richness” and “smoothness” it promised are hard to find. And what’s “Super “Dry”" about it, I’m not certain.

To sum up Asahi Super Dry, this is a decent, if unsophisticated beer. It’s not got complex flavours or aromas, but then it never promised that. Instead, it provides a simple, straightforward and refreshing beer. Not bad, but I want something more. I will though, be looking out for Asahi’s other beers. If they have a Super “Wet” to compliment their Super “Dry”, I’d be interested in sampling it.

Rating: 2.5

Have you tried Asahi Super “Dry” or any other Asahi beers? Where did you find them on sale? Can you translate any of it? Is the authentic Japanese version better than the one brewed here in the UK? If you can answer any of these questions. Or just want to leave a rant, comment, suggestion or correction, then do so now.

Beer Review: Kronenbourg 1664 Blanc White Beer

COULD this be my new favourite? You remember how much I adore Hoegaarden White Beer. And you remember how much I like fruit beers like Badger Golden Glory? Well this distinctive, white bottle, bought at a premium price from Tesco, promises to combine them both. So let’s see… will we have a new favourite here?

The bottle top, not normally worth a mention is the only place on this bottle that you’ll find the coat of arms.

Instead of the usual neck label, front label and back label combination, this bottle surprises yet again. Instead, it has a main front label, but all the usual back label small print is on the little label around the neck of the bottle.

Here’s the front of the neck label. The Kronenbourg 1664 brand name is still here though, reminding us of its connection to it’s more mainstream sister. Above it, is what I think is French. And it reads “La Bière Blanche De” And then the Kronenbourg 1664 logo follows. Using my almost non-existent French language skills, I’d say that it means “The White Beer of…”. Is that right?

Turning the neck label clockwise takes us to the UK units of alcohol warnings.

This bottle has 2.5 UK units of alcohol. And the label gives a summary of the daily maximums for men and women. Four and three respectively. All very dull.

Next to that though, we get a clue as to this beer’s origin. This one was “Brewed in the EU by Scottish & Newcastle” before giving their Edinburgh postal address. Even if that is under agreement from Brasseries Kronenbourg from Strasbourg, France, this news comes as a let down. If you feel strongly about that, then you might want to contact their consumer care line or email, both of which are directly under their postal addresses. Their email is given as kronenbourg@scottish-newcastle.co.uk, although I haven’t tested it. If you give it a try, leave a comment at the end of this post to let us know if they’re any good at replying to emails.

Turning the bottle further, brings us to the barcode side of the neck label. This is the side where all those important little details are hiding.

As you would imagine, being only the little label around the neck, there’s not an awful lot of detail. It describes itself as “White Beer”. And says that it “Contains Barley & Wheat”. Hardly surprising for a beer of any type. This is a 500 millilitre bottle. And I’ve never seen it in any smaller quantities. Have you? Does it exist in can form? Lastly, this has a volume of 5%. Strong-ish, but not remarkable.

Where you would expect it, there’s the main front label. And I think it fits in rather nicely with the rest of the bottle. The text is stylised, but easy to read. And the background matches the colour of the bottle, so it has a very classy appearance.

The word “Blanc” is the most prominent part of it. And for the few people who don’t know that “Blanc” means white, directly under that is the description “White Beer”. But it’s the text below that in a sort of gold colour that tells us most about this beer. It describes itself as a “Refreshing”, “Fruity”, “Imported White Beer”. I’m salivating already. Are you?

With nothing else to read on the outside, it’s time to open this bottle up and see if it’s as good as I’m hoping it will be.

Poured into a glass, you’ll do well to keep the pouring slow and smooth. But even I managed to keep the head under control, so you won’t have a problem. And what a creamy head you’ll get atop your beer. And it dies down to a drinkable level within a minute or two.

This is also a very cloudy, nearly opaque beer. I’d guess that this is because it’s live rather than filtered, like other white beers out there. Even though it doesn’t say so anywhere on the bottle.

The smell is as gorgeous as I had hoped. The fruitiness of the aroma is the first thing you notice. And not of one particular fruit. More like what you’d smell if you were standing over a big bowl of fruit salad. Not unlike the many other fruit beers out there. Sniff a little harder, and you’ll notice the rich, yeasty maltiness. A similar yeasty maltiness to Hoegaarden White Beer and Leffe Blonde and Leffe Brown. Am I the only one who loves the way that these all smell?

After all of that, I was expecting an explosion of flavours. But did in fact find my first few gulps to be treated to some very subtle flavours. None of which really dominate or jump out at you. And that surprised me.

After some pondering and tasting a few times, I’m starting to make sense of it. The main flavours are yeasty and malty. And that’s not surprising, considering that this is a white beer. What is surprising is how much they are in hiding. The other flavours that you’ll notice are of fruits. No one fruit group stands out, but there’s definitely something citrusy in the there. Again though, it doesn’t jump out at you.

Kronenbourg Blanc is very very smooth. It has the full-bodied taste and consistency that I demand of beers and ales, so no complaints of watery-ness here. Not only is it surpremely drinkable, but the lack of bold flavours means it won’t offend anyone. And that makes it accessible. Accessible enough for it to appeal to female drinkers too, I suspect. Girls, what do you think of Blanc?

If I had to look for downsides, I’d say it’s a little bit gassy. Although my belching during this review might have been due to the kebab eaten just before posting. Also, while the lack of strong flavours might make it inoffensive, it’s not quite what I was hoping for with Kronenbourg Blanc. I was hoping for the strong flavour of Hoegaarden or Leffe, but they just weren’t there. It’s clearly not what Kronenbourg were aiming for, but I found it rather disappointing for this reason, none-the-less.

What Kronenbourg Blanc is all about, are tasty aromas and flavours, deliciously arranged in subtle, understated ways. Some of you will adore the way that nothing about it is too strong. Other, like me, will be wishing that at least of it’s many qualities were more prominent.

Rating this beer, isn’t easy.

Rating: 4.35

I’ll happily drink Kronenbourg Blanc again. And recommend it to people. But it misses out on the highest scores by failing to take a chance and stand out with its flavours. That said, it’s still a feast of smells and flavours.
Have you tried Kronenbourg Blanc? What did you think?
Got any corrections, suggestions or ideas of your own?
The leave a comment now. Go on. Do it. Now.

Beer Review: Shepherd Neame Spitfire Premium Kentish Ale

Shepherd Neame’s Bishops Finger which I reviewed a few days ago wasn’t bad. In fact, it was pretty good, but it didn’t hit the spot for me. So it’s with a mixture of caution and optimism that I reach for a bottle of its sister beer, Shepherd Neame Spitfire Premium Kentish Ale.

A lot of the bottle and labelling design is the same as for Bishops Finger. So to avoid repeating myself, now would be a great time for you to read that review now, if you haven’t done so already. Go. Do it now. This post won’t be going anywhere while you do…

The shape of the bottle is the same. The neck label has the same, reassuring “1698″ heritage and it’s origins in Faversham, Kent.

The main front label is a little different

The “Shepherd Neame” name, and the funny symbol in-between the text “Since” and “1698″ stay. But the peculiar purple style of Bishops Finger is replaced by a good, patriotic red, white and blue colour scheme. The “Spitfire” name jumps out at you. It’s neatly surrounded by the proudly displayed description that it is “Premium”. And not only that, it is also a “Kentish Ale”.

I’m rarely a fan of slogans. Usually they’re an incomplete pun. Or they’re so uninspired that they’ve received less thought than council planning application. But Spitfire’s slogan of “The Bottle of Britain” managed to raise a smile even from me. Good play on words chaps.

The big, wide, rear label is again divided into two sides. One of which has the small print details. The other has a story the length of a medium-sized encyclopaedia.

Starting with the small print, this beer, like its sister, Bishops Finger, has EU Protected Geographical Indication. This means you won’t find, say, the French, selling their own Spitfire Kentish Ale. Why we need the European Union’s help to protect our own food and drink remains a mystery. Surely that would be like getting Enron board members to decide who knows your bank account pin number.

The other main small-print details are that this is a 500 millilitre bottle. Its contents have a alcoholic volume of 4.7% which translates to 2.2 UK units of alcohol for this bottle. For such a patriotically themed ale, making it a full British pint would have been the right thing to do instead of a Euro-half-litre. What do you think?

Over on the story side, we learn that this ale has only been going since 1990. Not well established then, by anyone’s standards. It goes on to say that it was brewed to celebrate the Battle of Britain, which played out in the skies over Kent, fifty years before-hand.

The story goes on to praise the Spitfire aircraft. About how it was designed by R J Mitchell. About how it was essential to victory in one of the Second World-War’s defining moments. And about how Shepherd Neame keep the spirit alive with advertising and fundraising for veterans’ charities. All very good.

As with Bishops Finger, Andrew Jefford turns up on the back label again, describing what the drink will be like. He describes the colour as “deep amber”. And smell as being of “tangy malt”. And the tastes and flavours as being of “spicy hops” with a “complex finish”.

Lastly, the postal address in Faversham, Kent, England, is on there. As is the web address of http://www.shepherdneame.co.uk/. And now, it’s time to see if Spitfire is any good.

In the glass, the colour is indeed a deep amber. It also has a good, consistent, yet not excessive head.

The smell is mostly of malt. Whether I’d call it “tangy malt”, I’m not sure. There’s definitely a layer of something spicy or fruity on top of the malty smell. I’d go with calling it “malty and hoppy” in its smell. And I like it.

After a few gulps, the taste, as I see it goes like this… The first thing to hit you is the bitterness. Then you notice the maltiness. And that gets swiftly followed by a hoppy-sour after taste that lingers in the back of your mouth. But does so in a tingly, tangy way.

There’s no doubting that this is an excellent example of what ale is all about. It has lots of strong, complex flavours. It has them arranged in a way that surprises you. And it’s easy to drink.

There are one or two drawbacks however. While, over the course of a few glugs warmed to Spitfire’s big, bold flavours, they won’t be to everyone’s tastes. The initial bitterness will be a big hurdle for some people. And there’s the body. Maybe I’ve been spoiled by live beers with yeast floating around or darker ales that have the consistency of crude oil. But the flipside to its ease of drinkability is that there is something very slightly watery in its lightness. Besides these, it is a little on the gassy side. But these are minor drawbacks.

Spitfire doesn’t apologise for being a bold, flavourful, premium quality Kentish ale. It’s an ale, and it doesn’t try to be anything else. If, like me, you love your ales to be bursting with flavours and patriotism, Spitfire is worth your time and money. Some of you will adore these qualities, others will find it a bit too much. I grew to really enjoy Spitfire, but its strength of bitter-maltiness means I won’t drink a lot of it very often.

Rating: 4.05

Have you tried Spitfire? What did you think?
Got any corrections, criticisms, ideas or requests? Then leave a comment now.

Beer Review: Gaymer White Star White Cider

SURELY not every white cider on the market can be made by Gaymer? After reviewing first Diamond White and then Ice Dragon, both of which were mediocre and both turned out to be from the Gaymer Cider Company. In the same way as the rather good K, the Gaymer name was carefully hidden away. Will that be the case with my next can of strong, white cider? Will this one be better than the rest? I doubt it.

This can, like Ice Dragon, has a unique look, all of its own. This one goes for a white, silver and blue colour scheme. That together with the Apple Macintosh font gives it a sci-fi feel. I quite like it, I must say.

Beneath the large, “White Star” logo are the basics. It describes itself as “White Cider”. Confirms that this is a 500 millilitre can. But, I’m pleased to say, without that ridiculous claim to have been 440 millilitres in the past. Ice Dragon and the cheap super-strength lagers, I’m looking at you. Instead, this one boasts of being a “Big Value Half Litre”. Also down at the bottom of the can we learn that it has 7.5%. The exact same volume as Diamond White and Ice Dragon. A clue to it’s origin perhaps?

Turn the can around enough times and you reach the details side of the can. Again, for a can of white cider, devoid of much in the way of real details.

We get all the familiar details like “Serve Chilled”. And “White Cider”. And “With sugar and sweetener. And “Contains Sulphites”. If someone can explain what a sulphite is, I would be very grateful.

The usual UK units of alcohol symbol is on there. And I can report that is 3.8 UK units of alcohol.

But… who made White Star? Surely Gaymer can’t be behind yet another white cider? Lets read the postal address and find out…

I don’t know whether to be surprised at this or not. But it IS the Gaymer Cider Co who are behind White Star. The same outfit from Shepton Mallet, Somerset, England, who were behind the identically uninspiring Diamond White and Ice Dragon, and the very good K. If this is going to be a re-run of the past two days, then it’s not looking good. Time to find out if my fears of another disappointment are well founded…

Poured into a glass, and it looks identical to its stable mates. It’s just as pale and fizzy as they are.

It smells just as much of synthetic apples as they did, too. And, I’m sad to report, that it tastes as mediocre as they did. Yes it does taste mildly of apples. And it is moderately refreshing and easy to drink. But, there’s barely any apple-y taste and none of that lingering refreshment that you expect from a cider.

In short, White Star is just as disappointing as Diamond White and Ice Dragon. In fact, I’d be surprised if they weren’t identical, and simply packaged differently.

I’m not sure if what I’ve had this week has been a true cross-section of white ciders. Or if other manufacturers produce white ciders. If they do, I’d be interested to know how they compare. So if you’ve had a white cider from someone other than Gaymer, leave a comment at the end of this post.

If the three white ciders I’ve reviewed do sum-up what the category is all about, then I’m not impressed. They have no taste. They’re not a refreshing as other ciders. They are the lagers of the cider world. In the same way that lagers offer a fraction of the flavour, body and character of beers and ales; white ciders have only some of the flavour and refreshment of proper ciders.

If you like the apple-y taste and refreshment of ciders, look elsewhere. You wont find it with a white cider. I certainly didn’t.

Rating: 2.95

Have you tried White Star or a white cider from anyone that is no Gaymer? If so, then leave a comment with your thoughts, corrections, suggestions and recommendations.

Beer Review: Gaymer Ice Dragon Extra Strength White Cider

YESTERDAY’S introduction to strong, white cider in the form of Gaymer Diamond White wasn’t great. It wasn’t as delicious, nor as strong as Gaymer’s other strong cider, K. What I need to try are more white ciders. Which brings me to the next in my strong, white cider round-up, Gaymer Ice Dragon.

This tall, 500 millilitre can was purchased from my local off-licence for very little money. It used to be 440 milliltres. But they’ve used the old trick of adding 13.5% to make it the same gigantic size as the other alcoholics favourites.

The front of the can doesn’t give away who made it. Just like K and Diamond White, whoever is behind is keen to hide their name. And they do it well. What with the unusual, mostly blue colour scheme and red dragon logo, it stands out.

Under the solid blue and “Ice Dragon” logo, is a frosted, icey snow flake blue background. On top of which, are the basics. Namely the description of “White Cider”. A pill shaped red blob telling us that this has the typical 7.5% volume. And the words “Extra Strength”. In case you didn’t know that 7.5% alcohol volume is quite a lot for a cider. I like the way this can looks. It’s too colourful and cheerful be an alcoholics choice. Instead, it looks to be trying to be the student party cider of choice.

Turn the can around enough times, and you reach the details side of the can. Everything, or at least the details they decide to give you, are here. All in high-contrast and readably sized lettering. Thank goodness for that. After a few weeks of needing to squint to read the labels, its good to have things printed clearly and in a readable size.

It may be readable. But that doesn’t mean that there’s much to read. From the top, it starts with the uninspired “Serve Chilled”. Under that, we learn that this has 3.8 UK units of alcohol. Which if you didn’t know, is a lot. You really wouldn’t want more than that amount each day.

Under that is the terse description and ingredients of “White Cider with Sugar and Sweetener Contains Sulphites”. Maybe they’re supposed to be two or more different sentences? With nothing else even approaching a sentence printed on the can, you’ll have to look elsewhere for reading material while drinking Dragon Ice.

Like Diamond White and K, the manufacturer isn’t madly keen on being identified. You have to find the postal address to find out that this is, once again, the output of one Gaymer Cider Company. The same one, of Shepton Mallet, Somerset, England who hid behind Diamond White and K. Are we going to discover that every white cider brand out there is owned by these chaps?

As for what to expect, I’m guessing that it will be a lot like Diamond White. Why shouldn’t it be? It’s white cider and it’s from the same company. Either way, it’s time to find out.

Poured into a glass, and first impressions are that it’s identical to Diamond White. It’s just as fizzy and just as pale.

The smell is almost exactly the same, too. That is to say, it smells of synthetic apples. All in all, not a great start.

A couple of gulps in however, and it does start to redeem itself. It does taste a little more of apples that did Diamond White. And that refreshing apple aftertaste seems to stay a little longer. On the other hand, it could just be my imagination, and it’s no different at all. There isn’t much in it. It’s still very very similar.

It’s just as light, easy to drink and quite refreshing. But on the other hand, it hasn’t got much taste. Or the apple-y refreshment that you expect from cider.

If you asked me to recommend either Diamond White or Ice Dragon over one another, I would be hard pressed to come up with a winner. They’re both equally cheap, tasteless and strong.

If you are a student who is trying to decide whether to buy Diamond White or Ice Dragon, pick either. Or pick the cheapest. Or pick something else entirely. K is about as cheap, stronger and tastier. Or pick a beer, spirit or wine instead. There aren’t many reasons to recommend this.

As a consequence, it scores exactly the same mark as yesterday’s white cider.

Rating: 2.95

Have you tried Ice Dragon or any other of Gaymer’s many ciders? What did you think?
As usual, recommendations, ideas, suggestions and corrections in the comments box please.
Check back tomorrow for my next white cider review. How much worse can they get? Or will the next one surprise us all?

Beer Review: Gaymer Diamond White Strong White Cider

A FEW weeks ago, during my look at super-high-strength lagers and ciders, Gaymer K was the big surprise. It was very strong at 8.4% volume, tasty, drinkable and cheap. This, I followed up with a few days ago with Strongbow Super. At 7.5%, it was a weaker. And because it was a dry cider, it wasn’t as drinkable. But it was still cheap.

Next to them on the shop shelves however is another type of strong cider. The White Ciders. All at 7.5% volume, I’ve rounded up three strong, white, ciders. The first of which is a little bottle of Diamond White.

The bottle isn’t unusual in shape. But it is quite small. And there doesn’t appear to be much on the labels.

The neck label keeps things simple with only the word “Strong” beneath an illustration of a diamond. That says it all really.

The main front label doesn’t have much on it either. But it’s still the place to look for the details.

The blue background and stylised “Diamond” and “White” lettering looks good. “Strong” is still very prominent. And the 7.5% is neatly positioned to stand out. There’s also the words “Drink Cold” next to what looks like the sort of star symbol that you see on freezers. Not sure if that means you should store it in a freezer or just a fridge.

The back label doesn’t have an awful lot on it either. In fact, it’s mostly barcode with little bits of text around the edges. You get the impression that if they didn’t need a barcode, there would be no back label whatsoever. It really is little larger than a postage stamp.

Prominently positioned next to the Diamond White logo is the units of alcohol symbol. 2.1 for this little bottle. And the smallness of the bottle is confirmed by the label. It is only 275 millilitres. Unusually small, this is the first bottle I’ve seen that has this odd capacity. Also on the back label, it describes itself as “Strong White Cider”. It contains sugar, sweeteners and contains sulphites. Just like every other cider. Yet I’m no clearer on what sulphites are.

There’s still little indication of who is behind Diamond White. Hold on… what is that I see in tiny lettering beneath the barcode? It’s the postal address and name of the manufacturer. I wander who it is? Well stone me, it’s Gaymer again! The same Gaymer Cider Company of Shepton Mallet, Sumerset, England who were behind the excellent K. And if I remember, they were keen on hiding their identity on that cider too. This hints at two things. First, that Gaymer really doesn’t want to be associated with strong ciders. And two, if K was anything to go by, Diamond White will be pretty good. Time to find out.

Pouring it, the reason for the unusual 275 millilitre amount becomes clear: it filled my half-pint glass nicely. The other thing that stood out were how many bubbles were rapidly rising to the surface. So many, and so violently, they cause a quite loud fizzing sound. The last thing that strikes me, is how it looks. It’s a very weak shade of yellow for a cider. Although that could be down to it being a white cider. Until I’ve tried some others, it’s not clear if it’s unusually light in shade or not.

The smell is good though. A light and apple-y smell accompanies Diamond White. But there is something synthetic about the way it smells. Rather like it’s sister cider, K.

A couple of gulps down, and it’s clear that white cider, or Diamond White at least, is a different animal to ordinary cider. It tastes less of apples. And minus the full-flavoured, full-body that I love about cider of the non-white variety. Diamond White is… well… rather watery.

As a cider, this makes it hard to judge. With the tiny amount I’ve had so far, I’d say that it’s somewhere between a dry and a sweet cider. Although I could be wrong on that call.

There are some cider-like qualities still present however. It does taste a little of apples. And, especially when cold, it is quite refreshing. It’s also very easy to drink. And surprisingly, despite how fizzy it is, I didn’t end up burping. Which was a relief.

But I’m not impressed. It doesn’t have the lingering, apple-y, refreshing aftertaste that cider should have. It doesn’t have much taste or flavour at all. And it’s not all that potent either, if that’s what you’re after.

At the end of my glass of Diamond White, I’ve hit upon what white cider is all about. Assuming that Diamond White sums up what the category is all about. Diamond White, or white cider in general is the strong lager of the cider world. Like strong lagers to ales, Diamond White hasn’t got much taste or flavour. But it is strong. And this one is easy to drink, easy to buy and cheap. But, it isn’t as strong, or as delicious as, for example, K. And that makes Diamond White and the other white ciders a puzzle about what their purpose is. With two more white ciders to go in this round-up, there’s still time to figure it out.

Rating: 2.95

What is Diamond White and the phenomenon that is white cider all about? If you’re tried Diamond White or the other white ciders, leave a comment with your thoughts, opinions, ideas, corrections and suggestions.

Beer Review: Shepherd Neame Bishops Finger Kentish Strong Ale

THIS one has been in my sights for a while. Regularly stocked at Tesco, this is a modestly priced bottle from a fairly local brewer in Kent.

What with the large, wide base, and long thin neck, the bottles from this brewer stand out on the shelf. It’s the giraffe of beer bottles. It’s also completely transparent glass, revealing the dark liquid within.

The neck label looks very promising indeed. We all know that age and heritage are no guarantees of quality. But it’s still nice to know that it’s from a brewer that can trace its history back to a Mesolithic tribe. This one doesn’t go quite that far, back, but it does claim to be Britain’s oldest brewer. And that counts for something.

The date “1698″ is proudly displayed. As is an “Over 300 Years” banner running across it. Underneath that, is the nearly as prominently named origin of Faversham, Kent.

The main front label keeps things simple and traditional. And purple. It’s an unusual colour scheme, but purple is the colour scheme of Biships Finger. Fortunately, it doesn’t detract too much. The text is stylised, yet readable. The 1698 date is proudly displayed again

But what is that text across the top of the label? The text “Shepherd Neame” is unusual. But with no other indication of the brewers identity, Shepherd Neame is, presumably, it. On the bottom part of the roundel, we’re told that this is “Kentish Strong Ale”. Strong ales are good ales in my book. How the Kentish origin changes that, is something I’m looking forward to discovering.

On the other side of the bottle is a long with label. And that label is split between the ‘story’ text and the small print details.

The ‘story’ opens by telling us that the original Bishops Finger was a Kentish signpost, pointing the way to Canterbury. And that this particular ale dates back to 1958. Apparently celebrating the end of malt rationing. An essential ingredient if you intend to brew your ale strongly.

Then the eccentricity of Shepherd Neame kicks in. Bizarrely, Bishops Finger is produced according to a “Charter”. This stipulates that it may only be brewed on Friday’s, by the Head Brewer with local, Kentish barley malt, hops and water from their well. Crikey. What the benefits of this are, I’m not entirely certain, but I hope it’s reflected in the taste and drinkability.

The last of the paragraphs of small, white text talks about the fact that this is the first beer in the UK to have been awarded Protective Geographical Indication status by the EU. And that’s important. It means nothing else can claim to be a Kentish strong ale. In the same way that only genuine Champaign can use that name, and not any old sparkling white wine. And that gives Bishops Finger points for being distinctive.

The paragraph on the back label continues with a description of the beer by someone called Andrew Jefford. Whoever he is, he describes Bishops Finger as having “fruit notes”, “roasted malts” and a “lingering” “orange finish”. How true all of that is, we’ll discover soon enough.

This side of the back label ends with the slogan “At 5.4% it’s near the knuckle”. Do you get it? Near the knuckle and it’s called Bishops Finger? Side splitting. There’s also a web address printed just under that in utterly minute writing. www.shepherdneame.co.uk takes you to a decent company website.

Over on the small print side are the basics. Above the barcode are proof that this is indeed a 500 ml bottle. That is has a 5.4% volume that provides 2.7 of your UK units of alcohol. Importantly, and unusually, there’s also the small logo proving that this beer has Protected Geographical Indication status. The Faversham, Kent, postal address of Shepherd Neame Ltd is on there. The ultra-brief ingredients is a little unusual though. Most give the chief ingredient as being “malted-barley”. Not Bishops Finger though. That would be much to normal. This goes with “Contains Barley Malt”. And with that out of the way, we can finally see what this beer is actually like.

Coming from a transparent glass bottle, the colour wasn’t much of a surprise. It’s as dark brown as it looked on the shop shelf. It also has a pleasingly thick head. And one that stays around after it’s been in the glass for a couple of seconds.

The smell is good too. In a word, it smells of quality ale. The rich smell of malt and hops is delightful.

A couple of gulps down, and the first tastes to hit me were of bitterness. And, sadly, rather more bitterness than I care for. Andrew Jefford described this as having fruity, malty, orangey tastes and flavours. Well the malt is definitely there. Working with the hoppiness, it gives it a rich, strong bitter character. I’m not so sure about the fruits however. I’m not picking them up, but that’s not to say that they aren’t in there. Your name just needs to be Andrew Jefford for you to notice them.

Nearly half-way through, and I’m delighted to report that this beer has not yet been decapitated. That is to say, it still has its head, which I’m pleased to see. The bitter and sour aftertaste really does stay with you, too.

Working through this strong ale, and it clearly has plenty of pluses. It has rich, strong flavours. These give it a full-body and escape from the weak, watery beers and lagers I’ve endured over the last few days. The proportions of everything that’s in it is unusual enough to score it marks for character and distinctiveness. And, importantly, it’s quite drinkable.

It’s not without its minuses however. It’s not quite as distinctive and different as the label leads me to hope it would be. It’s a little on the gassy side. It’s not terribly complex in the make-up of its flavours. And that rich, strong, lingering bitterness. Some of you out there. In fact, probably a lot of you reading will adore that about it. Me however, found it made Bishops Finger less palatable and accessible. And, ultimately, not as interesting or easily drinkable as it could be.

To sum up, Bishops Finger is a high-quality strong ale. It’s got a rich, deep, bitter taste, distinctiveness and a good history behind it. But, it’s not unusual, interesting or drinkable enough for it to score very highly. This is one for people who like their bitters. The quality was in abundance - just not to my tastes.

Rating: 3.6

Have you tried Bishops Finger? Or any others of the Shepherd Neame brewery?
What did you think? And recommendations?
Comments, corrections, ideas and insults in the little comments box below please. And thank you for reading.

Beer Review: Piwowarska Żubr

IF ANYONE out there can translate what is printed on this can, then do please leave a message at the end of this post. That’s because this can has no English language whatsoever. Purchased from my local off-licence, I’m assuming that this 500 millilitre can is imported straight from an Eastern-Europe.

The ‘front’ of the can has a logo of an animal that looks like a bison. The big name prominently printed on the can is “Żubr”. At least I think that’s right. There’s what looks like a little dot above the letter “Z”, making at a Cyrillic character. Which I have no idea how to pronounce. If you know how to pronounce it, then leave a comment at the end of this post.

There’s a little red banner in the top-left corner. The word “Sugerowana” looks like the word “sugar”, so perhaps this is a low-calories brew? Also making some educated guesses of what else is on the front, Żubr probably is made of pure water and natural ingredients. The “1768″ date is also probably significant. The word “Sponsor” also hints at the fact that the brewer of this beer sponsors something. What it is that they sponsor, I’m at a loss to explain.

Turning the can around, and on the barcode ‘side’, there’s a logo apparently relating to their sponsorship. Of something. There’s also a paragraph that happens to include the same words that are on the logo. So this paragraph probably says something about whatever it is, that they are sponsoring.

If you know what it is that they are sponsoring, you know what to do when you reach the comments box at the end of this post.

Turning the can around even further, and we reach what I think is the details ‘side’ of the can. Of those I can make out are the “500 ml”, recyclable aluminium and an information line. At least I think that that is what “Infolinia” means.

There’s also an ingredients list. Not being able to understand ingredients lists even when they are in English, I attempt to make some sense of it. The first thing on there is 12%. 12% of what I don’t know. It’s a bit steep for the alcohol content. Next is “alk, 6,0% obj.” That has got to be the alcohol volume. Thanks to my Polish commenter’s on previous posts, I’m inclined to believe that this high 6% strength is indeed the alcohol volume. Reading on, and I think that the brewer is someone called Kompania Piwowarska SA. Is that right? And that they are from Poznań, which is in Poland. Something that answers a few of my questions about the origin of this can.

So this is another Polish beer. That puts it up against Tyskie, Zywiec and Lech. None of which were outstand, but some were pretty good. Expectations are modest then, heading into the taste test for Żubr. Not just that, but I don’t know if this will be a larger, a pilsner or any other type of beer. That makes this the biggest step into the unknown since I started reviewing beers on this blog.

Poured into a glass, and my hopes of quality are dashed by the light-golden colour of lager. The fizzy head then promptly dies away to accumulate in a little pool in the corner of the glass.

There’s quite a lot of bubbles rising to the surface, so it might be gassy. And the smell is… not one of complex fruit and hop aromas. Instead, it smells cheap. The less said about the smell then, the better.

A couple of gulps in and I’m becoming more and more certain that this is a ghastly high-strength lager. It tastes of light and watery malted barley with a lingering bitter and sour aftertaste. You won’t notice the taste however, because you’ll be concentrating on burping after every gulp.

It’s not totally without merit however. It is refreshing. And it is light in character. Although most of that will be down to how watery it is. What is in it’s favour is how easy to drink it is. If my translation is right, and it is 6% alcohol volume, then it is very drinkable for the strength.

Apart from that there isn’t much to redeem it. Compared to the other Polish beers and lagers I’ve tried, this is the worst of them all. No wander then, that Piwowarska don’t appear to be officially importing Żubr. The most frustrating this about all this is that Poland is producing a lot of different beers. But only the worst are making their way over to the UK. There must be better Polish beers out there.

To sum up, then, Piwowarska Żubr is a strong, but ultimately dire lager. If you want a strong yet reasonable quality lager, there are plenty of others to choose from. Many with writing you can understand. Try it if you’re curious about Polish lagers. Otherwise, choose something else from your off-licence shelf.

Rating: 1.95

Have you tried Piwowarska Żubr? What did you think?
Can you translate any of it, or explain what Żubr is all about?
Then do please leave a message!