8 minute read
Tasting
New-wave lager
Adrian Tierney-Jones seeks out the cream of British-brewed lager
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Pint of lager? How about this? Easily
the worst so-called ‘super’ in these tastings, with lots of sugar syrup and carrot soup-like flavours besides the pungent lager alcohol; extremely crude and sticky.
Or maybe you’d fancy this instead? Suggestions of chocolate, mocha coffee and a soft roastiness on the nose. Full-bodied and creamy on the palate, with more chocolate, milky coffee, and a soft roastiness before it finishes dry and lightly bittersweet.
The first tasting is from former Good Beer Guide editor Andrea Gillies’ World Beer Guide, published in 1995. It describes her encounter with LCL Super (8.5 per cent ABV), brewed by Federation in the North East. This was the kind of carrot soup-like horror that led many CAMRA members to develop a lifelong aversion to lager (for let’s be honest, LCL Super seemed to have as much in common with an authentic lager as a cow has with a crocodile). The second beer is more benign and I encourage even the most steadfast of lager loathers to take a second sip. It is Devon-based Utopian Brewing’s Cerné Speciální (5.9 per cent), the brewery’s tribute to the dark lagers of Czechia and among 28 fantastic members of the lager family that feature in my latest book, United Kingdom of Beer.
Lager has been brewed in the UK since the end of the 19th century, with several of the producers employing German brewers who brought along with them the techniques of their homeland. However, with the onset of World War I, these Teutonic tradesmen were sent packing and British lager began its long decline to the kind of mediocrity that Andrea experienced with LCL Super.
However, change was coming: in 2000, London saw the appearance of Meantime, whose founder Alastair Hook was vocal in his search for authenticity. He was also a steadfast believer in time, and lagered those beers that needed it. I recall him producing a northern German pils regularly, while one of the beers he brewed exclusively for Sainsbury’s was branded as a Franconian Dark Lager (5.4 per cent). They were both excellent. Then what we used to call the craft beer revolution saw
Above and left: Jeremy Swainson trained in Munich and now creates several European-styled beers breweries such as Thornbridge, Four Pure and Camden Town produce excellent lager beers, using long lagering times and hops from Czechia and Bavaria.
I would argue, however, that we are
currently experiencing the next wave of British lager beers with the likes of Utopian, Geipel, Lost and Grounded, Braybrooke and Manchester Union making use of the processes of central European brewing, including doubledecoction mashing, while exploring a full range of lager beer styles. The results are superb and they can easily make us forget the heinous crimes of liquidity that Andrea was witness to. These breweries are making lager with the aim of being as authentic as the beers many of these brewers have tasted on their travels through Franconia and Bohemia.
“Authenticity is very important to us,” says Luke Wilson, who started Braybrooke on a farm in Leicestershire. “We use decoction mashing, horizontal fermentation tanks, five-plus weeks of lagering, etc. Our techniques are quite modern, though, as we still want to have a clean fermentation and no off-flavours. All our brewing involves a rolling boil, you don’t want to simmer it, but boil it vigorously to let out all the DMS/nasty volatiles produced. We love the profile that decoction mashing gives: an extra texture to the body, and the beer has more grainy/bready/caramel-like flavours. The process takes a little longer, but it’s definitely worth it.”
Decoction mashing is a process that originated in the lagerlands of central Europe. It involves a portion of the mash being siphoned off and boiled, and then returned. In the meantime, the mash will have been maintained at a constant temperature. Many brewers in Bohemia
and Bavaria still swear by it, but detractors say it is a waste of energy, especially as well-modified malts are commonly available (apparently the practice stems from a time when the malt to hand wasn’t so well-modified). It is the opposite of the British tradition of infusion mashing, but as the case of Braybrooke demonstrates, there are British breweries that are using it.
Decoction mashing has always fascinated me ever since being introduced to it in a Czech brewery more than a decade ago. I even have a notebook with a childlike drawing of how the system works. When last in Bamberg in 2018, I recall a brewer at rauchbier specialist Schlenkerla telling me that decoction mashing gave more body and malty flavour. During the same visit, another Franconian brewer said that even though he had stopped using the process in 2000, it was brought back because it was thought to be better for the beers.
Over in mid-Devon we find Utopian
Brewing on a farm near Crediton. Here, head brewer Jeremy Swainson, who trained in Doemens in Munich and was formerly at Camden Town, produces an exhilarating selection of beers from the family of lager, including the aforementioned Cerné Speciální, as well as a Vienna Keller (4.8 per cent) and an Unfiltered Pils (4.7 per cent). Not only does he solely use British hops and malt to make these beers, but he’s a glutton
Above and left: Luke Wilson’s Braybrooke brewery produces authentic style in a modern way
for punishment in that he swears by decoction mashing. “We are a small brewery focused on making the besttasting lager we can,” he says. “Decoction mashing is one technique that we use, which gives our beer its distinct character. Decoction mashing is inseparable from lager-brewing tradition and the best I have tasted are typically brewed using it.”
Another brewery using decoction mashing is Manchester Union, though founder and head brewer Ian Johnson sounds a note of caution, especially with increasing energy costs. Authenticity is important for him. “But it needs to be balanced with costs and time,” he says. “With energy costs increasing, we have to find the most efficient method of using decoction. We also find it difficult to complete a brew day in 10 or 11 hours with our adapted single-decoction regime. So we have to strike a balance. Having said all that, we believe our beer styles, the ones we have released, stand up to the same central European styles.”
Several years back, I went on a press trip to Carlsberg and during a talk
Above, from left: Matej Krizek of Bohem; Donzoko head brewer Reece Hugill; Donzoko focuses on “deliciousness”
led by the brewers in their R&D department, you could hear the sound of several beer writers’ jaws hitting the ground when one of the brewers said, in his opinion, lagering was no longer necessary to produce lagers.
When I mentioned this to Matej Krizek, head brewer at the Czech-run Bohem brewery in North London, his response was immediate: “If a beer isn’t lagered, then it is not lager! We use a minimum of five weeks’ lagering, so our beers take roughly seven weeks to produce in total, including fermentation and lagering. We have huge respect for Carlsberg as a brand, but it’s perhaps worth noting that Carlsberg itself tells the story on its website of how its founder JC Jacobsen had a serious falling out with his son when the younger Jacobsen cut the lagering time. We believe lagering is a necessity for lager, giving it its characteristic clean taste and its clarity.”
It is worth noting that Matej, like Jeremy, Luke and Ian, is also a fierce advocate of decoction mashing: “We
do it because it is traditional and the only proper way to brew lager. It’s like asking why Cheddar tastes better when it’s fully matured, or freshly ground coffee is better than instant.”
So far, so traditional, however, let’s
look at Donzoko’s peerless riffs on the family of lagered beers, which have impressed me ever since my first tasting of the brewery flagship Northern Helles (4.2 per cent). Reece Hugill is owner and head brewer, and he brews beer at Newbarns in Edinburgh and has a separate area in the brewery for fermentation and lagering. After talking with him, I have him down as a bit of an iconoclast in the traditional lager-brewing scene.
Reece says that he used to focus a lot on authenticity, but now: “I just focus more on deliciousness. I don’t think there’s much point in being authentic to something that already exists if it does not make your beer more delicious. You can spend your time trying to make your beer taste authentic to a certain region, but I prefer to make it tasty in its own way, and go and visit that region and enjoy the classics.”
He occasionally uses decoction mashing, but tells me that he doesn’t think it has a “mystical power”.
“It is a useful tool and a technique which can impart a slightly different malt character, which is important in the beers I brew such as Select Pils [4.8 per cent] and Lil’ Foam [2.8 per cent]. But its importance, I think, has been inflated by marketing. Pitching temperature and fermentation health has a much greater effect on the character of a beer, but is less romantic.”
Whether or not it is mystical, romantic or sheer bloody-minded, all I know is that the brewing traditions of central Europe being transplanted to this rain-lashed island are making for some delicious beers. These are beers that all too often make me feel as if I am sitting in a wood-panelled tavern in Bamberg or Pilsen with a plate of sausages to go with whatever I have in my glass. LCL Super, anyone? I thought not.
Adrian Tierney-Jones is editor of Beer, In So Many Words – The Best Writing on the Greatest Drink (Safe Haven Books). He tweets at @ATJbeer and writes at
