Black marks

I didn't go near the Struise stall at the Zythos Beer Festival this year. A glance at their huge menu board showed lots of beers I'd already tried and none I wanted to run back to. At Borefts they'd been charging multiples of what most other stands did and I wasn't going to bother finding out if they were running the same policy closer to home. So I brought my sour grapes to other stalls instead.

I did have a couple of Struis bottles waiting in the fridge at home, however, both of the dark and strong variety. First out was Black Damnation: Coffee Club: number 4 in the sequence, following "Mocha Bomb" in the weaponised caffeine drinks series. The blurb makes no mention of actual coffee here, only that this 13% ABV imperial stout is based on Struise's Black Albert and has been matured in rum casks, but one sniff demonstrates clearly how it got its name: there's a massive blast of coffee in the aroma, and quite a bit of rum too. Worryingly there's a fair whack of cardboard as well, suggesting that the amateurish label wasn't the only part of the packaging process that wasn't done as carefully as it might have been.

The rum elements in the aroma translate into a strong booze heat in the flavour, with a slight sourness and some lovely porty vinous qualities. The oxidised staleness is thankfully buried deep beneath this and, once you get used to the heat, it's actually quite a nice sipper. Not one of those that sneaks its alcohol on you: you feel every unit going in.

And because you can't have too many strong dark beers, here's Outblack, a milksop of just 10% ABV, brewed in association with Stillwater and boasting a grain bill including barley, wheat, oats and rye. Once again they're not out to be subtle so I can't honestly say what each grain brought to the finished product, but it is pretty damn full-on. Once the over-enthusiastic head subsides there's a hot-and-sour liquorice aroma and a flavour of dark liqueur chocolates. Some sort of brandy liqueurs, if I was guessing, though perhaps shading towards cough mixture.

Despite the best efforts of the busy carbonation to mask them, the flavours just kept on coming and before I was done I had noted menthol as well, plus -- oh no -- more of the wet cardboard I could smell in the Coffee Club. While the other elements kept shifting, that staleness stayed consistent on the end of each mouthful right to the very bottom. A lot going on in this one, but it's still something of a curate's egg, unfortunately.

You can't mark Struise down for being uninteresting or not putting the effort in, but too often the quality of the beers just isn't what it should be for a brewery that garners their level of acclaim.

It's only a number

The six hundred and sixty-sixth entry on my blog. Well there was only one thing for this: the bottle of Black Damnation II that Stephen from The Beer Club gave me. As is usual for this sort of super-rare imperial spoogebeer, you'll have to give me a whole paragraph while I explain what it is.

So, we have a blend of three imperial stouts, starting with 50% Struise Black Albert which has been aged on Colombian coffee beans. Add in 25% of De Molen Hel & Verdoemnis matured in Jack Daniel's barrels, and fill out the rest with Struise's Cuvée Delphine. They've subtitled it Mocha Bomb. Oo-er.

I'm guessing it never occured to them that they had all the makings of beery Irish coffee, but that's sort of how it's turned out. Yes there are hops, lots of them: deliciously bitter with plenty of fresh green veg flavour. But under that you have some pleasantly mild coffee, sweetened with brown-sugar-like malt and boozed up by the whiskey. A smooth creaminess really adds to the effect as well. Rounded, warming and exquisitely balanced, it's not a mocha bomb, it's a purring fireside pussycat.

Imperial Irish coffee. Satan in an aran sweater. Lovely.

Ain't you got no pubs to go to?

OK, time to finish up at the Copenhagen Beer Festival and start some proper drinking.

The stragglers are a mixed bunch, including Braunstein's Viking IPA -- a cold and rather dull amber ale showing touches of caramel but no real hop oomph -- and the disconcerting Black Ale from Thisted which I would swear had a meaty liver-and-kidney iron flavour in with the dry roasted grains. I enjoyed Black Bird, a sweet and sticky stout made under the Nimbus brand by Lund Teknik, and also the Smoke Chili (big surprise there, right?) by Det Lille which has the peaty malt in the driving seat, taking occasional piquant directions from the chilli peppers.

From the Eye-Catching Name file, there's Hoppy Sundown from the Randers brewery: another malt-heavy IPA but this one provides a satisfying warmth from 8.7% ABV while also packing a citric punch from lots of US C-hops. Little Korkny is Nørrebro's six-year-old barley wine, having a wonderful porty vinosity and deserving of a much more dignified handle. Then there's Skt. Bendt, a light and pleasant chocolatey porter by Dagmar.

And as things drew to a close on Saturday night, while we were discarding our final tokens, I felt the sudden onset of palate fatigue and the need for something cleansing. So Fuglsang Pilsner was called upon and did the job rather well: though a very pale shade of yellow, it's full-bodied, sweet and bready -- refreshing without being in the least bit dull.

And that was it. Many thanks to all the brewery reps who took the time to talk to me, and a massive massive thank-you to Anne-Mette of the Danske Ølentusiaster who, despite a huge organisational workload, looked after us and made us feel more like guests than punters. It was great also to meet Søren, founding chair of the group, to discuss campaign tactics.

But it goes without saying that the festival was merely a temporary focal point in what is, every day, one of Europe's great beer drinking cities. I managed to squeeze in a bit of pub time between the sessions, ticking off a couple of bars on my must-visit list.

Even though it only opened its doors a few weeks ago, the Mikkeller bar was top of that list. I visited at opening time on Saturday afternoon so managed to catch it on one of the rare occasions during the festival where it wasn't packed to the rafters with beer geeks: when I went there was only a sober smattering of them. The bar itself is situated in a small multi-room basement and beautifully appointed in minimalist Scandinavian style (the less charitable might use the phrase "like boozing in an Ikea", but not me). Very pleasant for a civilised tipple though I doubt it's much fun when jammed.

Having just come from Ølbutikken where it was fresh on the shelves, the first thing that caught my eye on the draught blackboard was Nøgne Ø's Red Horizon. I was quite surprised to learn that the ingredients list has nothing more exotic than malt and hops since it tastes bizarre: big and boozy (17% ABV) with raspberry and cranberry notes plus oodles of zesty pink peppercorns. How do you get malt and hops to do that? You use sake yeast, apparently. They'll all be at it next year, mark my words. Anyway, Red Horizon is a definite win.

The assembled RateBeerians had brought a bottle of imperial stout in with them and were kind enough to share some with me (I can't imagine a bar with a list as impressive as this gets many punters asking to open their own, or maybe that's all part of the super-specialist market). Black Damnation is a 50-50 blend of Struise Black Albert (reviewed here) and De Molen Hel & Verdoemenis (reviewed here) -- two absolute corkers. But how do they play together? I think Albert is wearing the trousers, which is a shame because it's the inferior beer in my opinion. The dominant aroma is dry and slightly sour, with mild wood notes coming out on the flavour plus more than a hint of nuttiness. The Dutch beer adds a silky smoothness to this, and there are no bum notes to it anywhere. Enjoyable, certainly, but I think I prefer my Hel & Verdoemenis straight. Before leaving I got a quick taste of Mikkeller Sour Nine, another WTF beer, being dark, strong and incredibly sour, plus lots of serious vanilla oak and more legs than a bag of centipedes. Much later I figured out what it is: an Imperial Flemish Red. Get me the BJCP on the horn, now!

The other super-classy joint I was in was Pegasus, not far from the festival hall. A hand-picked beer list is chalked up in this slightly formal restaurant-bar and I opted for the Centennial IPA by Herslev, a lovely rich and fruity American-style beer with just the balance of toffee and oranges I like. We didn't stay to eat, though Knut Albert tells me the food is excellent.

More pubs next. Then you can go home.

Darkness falls

And so to the far end of the colour chart at the European Beer Festival: those lovely black beers. Of course, I've already written about a fair few of the good ones in with my posts about Mikkeller and the US breweries, but there's always room for more.

I'm quite a fan of Heineken's Krušovice brand, so was delighted to see Krušovice Dark, which I haven't had in many years, available in bottles on one of the stands. I liked it: very dry and quite sharp in that mouth-watering schwarzbier sort of way. Holbæk Bryghus claimed that their Munkholmer was a stout/schwarzbier hybrid, but it definitely tasted much more like the latter, though with a nice touch of fruit amongst the dryness that would have me calling it a plain porter more than anything else. Nothing wrong with that. Lund Teknik also had a Dry Stout on display, promising lots of roasted barley on the nose but having quite an understated roast flavour, with a hint of caramel to lift the dryness. Well balanced and very drinkable.

Sadly, Wintercoat Oatmeal Stout was a much less pleasant experience, with some nasty phenolic marker-pen notes in it, but not much else: the complete opposite of Engbo by DaCAPO, a marvellously full-bodied and roasty simple, no-nonsense, high-quality session stout.

There was lots of woodiness apparent among the dark beers. Like Black Oak, a porter from Braunstein. Here the wood is fresh and fragrant, with the rich roasted flavours only arriving afterwards. Similarly with the very sweet Roskilde Imperial Stout by Det Lille-- freshly hewn timber dripping with sap is what I got here. A more mature woody character comes with Struise's Black Albert, a dry, sour, and oaky imperial stout. Det Lille's Roskilde Oak Aged Porter, was perhaps the most complex of them all, possessed of that strange sweet-dry character which aged malty beers take on, plus smoke, nuts and a touch of phenolic booziness.

I spent the early part of the Saturday afternoon camped out on the soft furniture of Carlsberg subsidiary Kongens Bryghus. When the dirty looks of the staff became too much I opted to try the brewery's "Caribbean Porter" Vestindisk. I'm glad I did too: it's a wonderfully smooth and smoky beer. Not especially challenging; easy-going but tasty. Another simple but suppable black one came from Stensbogaarde: their English Dark Stout is very heavy and sweet -- sticky but not too sticky. One of several beers I'd have liked a pint of.

Some good sweet milk chocolate notes in Stormakst porter by Närke of Sweden, sitting on a huge thick treacly body. Svaneke's Choko Stout is, obviously, chocolatier still, with much more besides. Cocoa, fudge and sweet tobacco say my notes. I must have liked it. The award for chocolate beer with no actual chocolate in, however, goes to BrewPub's cask porter Cole. This is light-bodied yet very creamy and loaded with chocolate and molasses. BrewPub has come a long way from what they were serving back in 2005.

And that's the dark beers put away. But I'm not quite done with Copenhagen just yet...