The pursuit of hoppiness – why life is too short to drink rubbish beer

Why?

There was a time when beer in New Zealand was intensely regional and this does not suggest variation between brews. Drinkers from Otago and Southland would be known for consumption of Speight’s, Canterbury had Canterbury Draught, Wellington had Lion Brown, further north was held by Tui and Lion Red yet taste these beers side by side and you’ll find very little difference. They are fairly bland, invariably served too cold and lack character and it could be suggested that so do their drinkers. Likewise the adherents of green bottle ‘international’ lagers such as Stella Artois, Heineken and Steinlager Pure. Why would you limit yourself to just one beer?

Mmm stouty goodness

I have been on a bit of a quest to explore beer flavours and what strikes me, and is perhaps the most enjoyable part, is the sheer variation you can get in beers. From spicy, sprucey massively hopped American Pale Ales to rich, sweet, complex Belgian Trappist ales. I have encountered beers aged in whisky barrels, beers flavoured with juniper, candi sugar, raspberries, peaches and other fruits. I’ve tried beers across a variety of the colour spectrum from pale white wheat beers across sour green French ales to the very black of blackest blackness in Imperial Russian Stouts. There is a perception that wine holds the heights of complexity and certainly there is depth and subtle variation in wine with grape variety, terrior and wine-making methods. However, when you look at wine there are only two ingredients – yeast and grape juice. Beer usually has four ingredients – water, hops, malt and yeast and all of those ingredients will be subject to geographical influence, hops malt and yeast subject to species and varietal variations. Even simple mathematical calculation suggests that four variables will result in more combinations than two and this doesn’t even begin to take into account the addition of other ingredients and beer making methods.

Mmm hoppy goodness

It is said you have to spend 10,000 hours to become good at something. I reckon I’m getting up there in terms of nosing, tasting and assessing various beers. As of this blog post I have reviewed and assessed 1,134 different beers which hasn’t even scratched the surface of the more than 250,000 different beers currently listed on ratebeer.com. It is a task that never ends but is massively satisfying. Don’t even think to ask me what my favourite beer is though. While I have reviewed a beer that is as close as it gets to perfect, the human palate is subjective to time and place, season and whim. I would happily admit to a Corona being my favourite beer after an afternoon of toil on a hot day but would also point out that in the tail end of rain-lashed autumn there is nothing better than leaning at the bar with the cryptic crossword, a hunk of cheese and a pint of nutty, creamy brown ale. I would urge people to step outside their comfort zones when purchasing beer, push the boat out and attempt something new -after all, gerbils do the same thing over and over. Also don’t be afraid to try a change in temperature: too cold and the palate cannot sense flavour (why cold Corona works so well), just under room temperature is optimum and I pour scorn on the idea that British beer is served warm. That is plain stupid, warm beer is awful whatever it is. British cask beer served at cellar temperature of between 10⁰ and 13⁰ is just the most gorgeous thing in the world next to Monica Belucci (and you can tell Elle I said so).