"Drivel, utter drivel," commented "Chuffy" on 27th January, in response to a piece in the Guardian entitled "Calling time on the pint glass". What was it that raised Chuffy's ire? Another daily newspaper's pathetic attempt at writing about beer? Hardly! The byline was Ben McFarland, current British Guild of Beer Writers' Beer Writer of the Year, so at least some beer-informed people think he knows what he's talking about.

But 990 people agreed with Chuffy. The comment earned him (surely is a "him") nearly one thousand "Recommendations" (Guardian-speak for "Like"). He was not alone in his opinion either: 997 people agreed with George999x, "You lot live on a different planet. Long live the pint glass!!" said George999x. Perhaps his likers included George001x - George996x, who knows.

Ben's article dared to suggest that the standard pub pint beer glass, known as the nonik, is not the best vessel from which to appreciate the beverage for which it was made. Ben accuses the nonik glass is made for the landlord's (and the brewery/pubco's) convenience. He goes on to suggest it is ugly, not best suited to a lot of beers on grounds of flavour and aroma, and, it holds too much beer, he throws in, just to make sure there are no short measures.

MaltCim shoots a selection of our glasses*

No prizes for guessing I'm on Ben's side. Regular Nightjar readers might remember one of my non-resolutions/predictions for 2012 is to champion beer served in less than a pint. "Think big, drink small" I wrote. The late great comedian Linda Smith is quoted in another comment, "A third of a pint? That's not a drink, that's homeopathy." Funny, but a gross misrepresentation of homeopathy. However, if ever there were a subject worth grossly misrepresenting...

Smaller measures for bigger beers, is what I'm saying. And so does Ben, but he goes further, asserting that different shaped glasses bring out the best in different beers; especially those with plenty of aroma. But let's allow that some people can't or won't care about such matters. Let's talk about aesthetics, because smart-looking glasses sell beer.

Why did people suddenly develop a taste for Peroni? It's standard lager flies out of the taps at my local Ember Inn. Can it be anything to do with the glass? It's seductive, sculpted curves, etched along its length with the Peroni logo.

I'd wager a mixed case of Kernel to a half-empty can of Fosters that there are crowds of people who would rather drink a Stella Vier from its continental pilsner glass than anything in a nonik. I bet your average young beer drinker - man or woman looks at the holder of a nonik glass and thinks, "Sad, old fart". 

Of course, there are cool, branded pint glasses: Adnams and Ringwood have attractive pints that are a bit more than just noniks with a logo stuck on. Perhaps, of the national ale brewers, Fullers tries the hardest, with a different design for all of it's major ales. But they are all pints. The wonderful ESB goblet: a glass for savouring an ale of 5.5% would be even better in a two-thirds measure.

So let me grant that Chuffy and George999x were partly right: the nonik is a British icon, but one that needs clasting. Pints will still be served, we will still drink them, but the nonik needs an extreme makeover. A new model army of brothers is needed in order to make beer of all styles more attractive in the pub, and acceptable on the dinner table.

Links
Ben McFarland's original article in the Guardian: Calling time on the pint glass
Fullers range of pint glasses
Do yourself a favour and buy Kernel beers from Beer Merchants
The Nightjar's Wishes for 2012

Glasses
Thanks to MaltCim for the photo.
Back, left to right: Fullers ESB goblet, Stockholm Festival 2009, Brew Wharf sampler, Stockholm Festival 2010.
Front: Lagunitas fruit jar, private stock Gentle Giant etched US pint mug.

It's time for me to re-think Burns Night supper.

I say this having got it mightily wrong this Burns Night. Forgot the neeps, decided to go with mashed potatoes and made a flour-based onion gravy using a dark-ish beer finished with some Laphroaig. BP would have been better off if they'd used my offering in the Gulf of Mexico last year. Culinary sink. I was though, saved by what I chose to drink.

There's no getting away from it, though, haggis is offal, and by placing our attention on such a dish we honour the beasts that went to make it. Lamb isn't just about gigot.

It might be tempting then, to think about haggis as wastebasket food, but it is far from that. Haggis is big in flavour, big in texture, and great, hearty winter comfort food. To do it honour we need to encounter it at its best. Are the traditional accompaniments the right ones to make it shine?

In the tradition, neeps and tatties is a lot of stodge to go with something that is already padded with oatmeal. So you need something to lighten things up. I could happily leave the mashed or boiled potatoes for another day, and if you insist on the swede, then you'd better have plenty of butter.

And to drink? Burns Supper is one of the few feasts in the year where it's not hard to persuade the most blinkered wine-is-best character that you are probably better off drinking some fruit of the malt. A proper haggis is deep and richly flavoured - and often strongly peppery. Whisky, is a given surely, but a big enough beer at the same time makes an excellent liquid foil.

Demon Drink
If I got the food combination wrong this time, at least I got the drinks choice bang on: a cherished, horded, one-last-bottle of the syntactically challenged BrewDog bitch please - their collaboration beer with Three Floyds, and Ardbeg Alligator - a mighty, special edition Ardbeg from new American oak casks so charred on the inside they are said to look like alligator skin.

The bitch please is certainly big enough: a barley wine made with peated Islay malt with the addition of magnificently un-Rheinheitsgebot shortbread and toffee, and spiced up with an earth-spanning range of hops. If that wasn't enough, the finished beer is then barrel-aged for 8 months in casks that once exchanged their tannic secretions with Jura's malt whisky. Unfortunately, mere mortals can't get it any more because right after I got mine, Valhalla bought the entire remaining stock for Thor and Odin. I heard.

Talisker is my first choice Burns Night dram. Not any fancy bottling either; the normal 10 year-old. That was my third oversight of the evening: no Talisker. I could have gone with the Laphroaig Quarter Cask I used in the gravy, but then I hit upon the Ardbeg Alligator.

The Alligator is a beast. Where Talisker has pepper and some sherried sweetness in its bracing saltiness, this Ardbeg has gobfulls of pepper, barely cracked, and chilli and ginger. This coming after a nose like barbecue glaze that's dripped onto the coals.

And the haggis stands up to it all. It feels like its honour has been saved. Maybe this is all you need for the perfect Burns supper: a mighty ale and a beast of a whisky. And the words of Robbie Burns.

*********
I wish I'd gone with what Laphroaig posted as their suggested sauce: a simple cream sauce flavoured with wholegrain mustard, chives, lemon and "2 generous dashings of Laphroaig." Quarter Cask works best, they say.

Robert Burns' Address to a Haggis. in standard English
The Nightjar's take on how BrewDog did Burns Night Supper 2011

The Ardbeg Alligator direct from the distillery shop.
You can't get bitch please, but you can get Tokyo* from the BrewDog shop.

Who was it that said, "I never make predictions, and I never will!"?  Well, it wasn't Charlie Brooker, Guardian columnist and TV's Screen Wipe writer, scourge of the mediocre. And despiser of new year resolutions, it seems. In his column on 8 Jan he says of resolutions "You think of something you enjoy doing, and then resolve to stop doing it", thus giving them the longevity of a Christmas tree withered by a month of central heating.

January does though, give at least the idea of a clean slate. As I toasted in the new year with a bottle of Mikkeller Fra... Til.. dark winter ale, I thought about what I would like to see and what I would like to change in 2012. So, no resolutions and no predictions...

 1. A bigger range of bottled beers in pubs
Especially pubs serving food. OK, most of the point of a British pub is to drink the fine draft beers. Increasing the range of bottled beers will allow a pub to serve a much greater diversity of styles to suit the dishes they serve. Take a leaf out of Leeds Brewery/The Midnight Bell collaboration, as seen in my post on Jamie Oliver's Great Britain programme on Channel 4. And pubs: offer beers you can't get in the supermarket. You'll be able to charge more. And while I'm on that subject...

2. Hike the price of good (craft) beer in pubs
What do you mean the Chancellor already did? Leave the ordinary stuff alone. but make good cask and craft keg reassuringly expensive, to recall an old campaign. Well, a bit dearer, anyway. What do you mean people will just stay at home and pay supermarket prices? What do people pay for a bottle of Becks in a pub, £3.50?  That's like seven quid a pint. For Becks. Don't even get me started on wine. Stand up for being the premium products they are. I'd much rather more money went to the great small breweries we have in the UK. Excellence should be rewarded.

3. Think big, drink small
When it comes to the bigger beers, pints are for wimps. Yes, that's right; it's halves that are for the daring. And thirds are for superheroes. Don't chicken out and have a pint for your man/womanhood. Your brain, liver, and palate will thank you for that half of ESB. You can then "afford" a snifter of Magic Rock Human Cannonball. If only pubs and bars had more third pint glasses... Wait a minute; Ember Inns already do, for their tasting racks. (Three thirds for less than the price of the pint.) You could even do a round of two halves for standard strength beers. That is, until two-thirds glasses catch on. Daily mirror article from November 2011.

4. Breweries: tell us what's in the bottle
"Brewed with the finest malt and choicest hops." It says on far too many labels. Stop it now! Whisky is hardly better: "The purest water flowing down through the glens." Rubbish. What if my headlines said: "Written with the most descriptive words and crafted punctuation"? Oh, and while I'm dealing with imprecision, stop this "Brewery Conditioned" nonsense. Beer: is it pasteurised? Filtered? Whisky: is it coloured? Chill-filtered?

5. Buy stuff from specialist retailers
When it comes to malt-based beverages, supermarkets are, on the whole, beige with the odd touch of inspiration. And because their ranges are a bit slow moving, you are way better off buying the beer and whisky you really want to drink by going to specialist online beer and whisky shops. At the same time, you get to support the real artisans of malt. Unless you live in Sweden, in which case, you're more-or-less already catered for. Jammy gits.

My Brewery Tap's Pick-and-mix range
The Whisky Tasting Club

6. More food and beer together
Writing and talking about Beer with food and cooking is the best way of introducing people to the diverse world of beer styles. I received an honourable mention in the Beer and Food category from the British Beer Writers Guild in December, and this made clear for me a direction for The Nightjar in 2012. I recommend you go to or give a beer dinner; I certainly will.

Damn!, I nearly made it through the whole post without a prediction. Sorry Charlie.

Sometimes it's not easy being a whisky lover. And at Christmas, it can be hard to know what to buy for the whisky lover in your life. Have they got this whisky already? Will they like it. I have just the thing to solve this problem: how about buying a whisky tasting?

The sites I'm recommending here put together a selection of specialist and often rare whiskies in 30ml or 50ml bottles. Miniatures that you often can't get anywhere else.  It's both a try-before-you-buy, and an instant whisky tasting session.

Master of Malt I recommended last Christmas, you may remember. They also provided the whiskies for a tasting at a Burns Night dinner I conducted. Sets are mostly in the £20-£40 range, but can go quite expensive. I'd be particularly interested in the Staff Favourites set, which includes a couple of Islays, a cracking bourbon and a fantastic Japanese.
Master of Malt

Beer and whisky gifts for Christmas proved a popular post last year, so here we go for 2011, beginning with some special beers and soon to be followed by some of the best beer books this year.

On the case
A good many breweries have online shops and special selections for the season, but I wanted to bring a couple to your attention that you might not be aware of.

Summer Wine Brewery, from Yorkshire, who in choosing their name are clearly hedging their beverage bets with an eye to global warming. Nevertheless, SWB are brewing beer for the foreseeable - and jolly fine it is too. They have a Festive Case of 24 330 ml bottles of a range of styles from a modern IPA to "Double Black Belgian RyePA", all for £54.

I might have to include a chocolate fireguard with my next recommendation, as it's a very limited offer, and might already be sold out. Bristol Beer Factory's 12 Stouts of Christmas is the culmination of a year-long project to produce 12 different stouts (would you believe). At £48 including delivery, they are bound to go faster than huskies in the snow.

If you miss the boat (sledge?), you could go for the Mixed Dark Case instead. It has some of the 12 Stouts, or you could choose your own case and include the likes of the Glenlivet cask-aged stout.

Online shop My Brewery Tap is an outlet for craft breweries. They have some mixed cases too, and also a few special bottles that would make a great gift. The 52-week UK beer club is a brilliant idea. Every quarter your chosen recipient receives 13 different, well-chosen British "real" ales. A gift that gives all year for a very reasonalbe £110 plus a Tiny Tim of a one-off, 6-quid shipping charge.  

A more affordable idea is to choose from the pick-and-mix selection, which would allow you to give one or two special beers to several friends and maybe keep a couple for yourself. Or perhaps go for a 1.5 litre Chimay Magnum Grande Reserve. Complete with champagne stopper, it would light up any New Year's Eve celebration.

London's The Kernel Brewery is probably the hippest in the UK at the moment, having just walked away with Brewer of the Year from the British Guild of Beer Writers. I couldn't find a ready-made mixed case for you at that other online bastion of great beer, Beer Merchants, so I've made one up: a Mixed Kernel IPA Kernel, IPA ANR, 7%, Kernel, IPA Black 33cl, Kernel, IPA Citra 6.6% 33cl, Kernel, IPA Double Black, Kernel, IPA Nelson Sauvin Citra, 7.1%, 33cl, Kernel, IPA S.C.G.A.NS 7%, 33cl, Kernel, IPA SA.NS.NZC, 7.2%, 33cl, and Kernel, IPA Simcoe Centennial, 7%, 33cl.

Back soon with some ideas for books about beer.

To my brother-in-law Jonas,

December 8, 2004 I saw you just after you came round.
"Nice haircut," you said.
"You've seen better days," I thought.
But then again, you didn't look bad for someone who'd just donated a kidney.

Today is the seventh anniversary of that haircut and also your heroic gesture. It changed your sister's life - my wife, and no doubt, has made my life immeasurably easier.

A whisky is on its way today to you as a token of gratitude for this year; another healthy one.

Here's to you, and to all who have done as you have, thank you!

Skål!
Jerry

To anyone else reading this, if you haven't done so already, please sign up to be an organ donor.

What is it about Irish whiskey?  In all my 16 years of judging in the whisky competition at the Stockholm Beer and Whisky Festival (SBWF), Irish whiskeys have won shovelfuls of medals. There's no doubt there's some fine whisky, from the Emerald Isle, but I don't often buy it. Why?

At this year's SBWF I met Fintan Collier, Jameson brand ambassador for Scandinavia, and mentioned this "phenomenon" and suggested I wasn't alone in my divided attitude. I also suggested he hold a whisky tasting on Twitter (Twasting, in the parlance). Apart from giving a chance to taste a range of whiskies in the range, a Twasting is a live discussion across the Internet - it gets the word out.

The mystery "dram" at the heart of the Jameson Twasting

With samples sent out to a disparate collection of enthusiasts from Sweden, Netherlands and Germany, as well as at least one in the UK, we gathered together around our separate computers to see what the deal was. So, five Jameson whiskies, right? Well, not exactly: certainly three different Jamesons, but what's this Mystery Dram? And what's this Midleton whiskey doing here?

More of the Mystery Dram soon, but a Midleton whiskey in a Jameson tasting, that's a bit odd, isn't it? Well actually, no; they are from the same distillery. Jameson whiskies are made at the Midleton distillery in Cork, and for me, herein lies some of my problem: Irish whiskies often don't fit neatly into the distillery-equals-brand, unlike single malt whisky in Scotland. I find it harder to get involved in a brand than a distillery.

But once you taste the whiskey, it's very easy to get involved. We start with the "ordinary" Jameson. I say "start", but Fintan makes us wait with some pertinent information about Jamesons and Irish whiskey in general. Rather like I've made you wait to find out what I thought about his whiskies.

This "ordinary" Jameson is the world's biggest selling Irish whiskey. It goes under the slogan "Triple distilled, Twice as smooth, One great taste." People like "smooth" apparently. Even Royal Mile Whiskies say the Jameson is very smooth. I think "smooth" sounds like a back-handed compliment. Boring, even. But the Jameson is not boring.

It is a blend, though. Not that there's anything inherently wrong with blends among the cognoscenti, these days. Last year, the received wisdom about whisky, that single malt = quality, and blend = inferior was blown out of the water when Jim Murray named a blended whisky (not Jameson) as the best whisky of 2010. The Jameson is a blend of grain whiskies with some single pot still whiskey, as Fintann puts it - pure pot still, if you like. This is a traditional Irish, but more expensive way of making whiskey. 

Enough talk: on with the Twasting!
The "Jameson" has no age statement but a very pleasant aroma and taste of apple crumble, with some restrained floral notes that typify many Irish whiskeis. But there's pepper - not known for its "smoothness". Somebody mentions egg nog and baking spices.

The Jameson 12 year-old Special Reserve has a thicker, deeper, darker character. Like a light Christmas cake to the Dundee cake of the unaged. We are told this character comes from a higher proportion of pot still whisky, and also more whisky from sherry casks (as opposed to bourbon casks, which provide the vanilla, egg noggy flavours). Extra oiliness comes from pot still too, says our man. More pepperiness and more assertive, it is mouth filling and silky, I think, rather than oily. Sweet and becomes even more so with a drop of water. Golden syrup, light treacle, finishing on a peppery heat, so it doesn't cloy.

The 18 year-old Limited Reserve is up next. Its subtle, seductive nose reminds me of a Demarera sugar crust. I detect dried pears too. This also has a quite peppery intensity on the palate, which goes over to an intense bag of dried fruits as though a bag of health food shop snacks is rehydrating in your mouth: cranberries, pears, apples. At the time, I said there was heather, but did I mean lavender? Others report oranges or orange zest, as there was in the 12 year-old. Seductive is right: a very special whisky.

And so to the Midleton in the mix. Not Kate or Pippa, but Barry; although it's Barry Crockett, Midleton's master distiller that the whiskey is named for, and this is his Legacy, a straight, pure pot still whisky - the style with which Barry Crockett is synonymous, apparently. Well, I admit to ignorance, but I will say, that many of the Irish whiskies I do end up buying for myself are pure pot still. Oh OK, single pot still, then.

The Middleton Barry Crockett Legacy is "full of pineapple chunks", I say. And then we are off into a Joycean tweeting of tasting and nosing impressions. But with better spelling: sweet, intense, concentrated, syrupy fruit. Light vanilla tones (from high proportion of bourbon casks). Toffee, vanilla fudge, fresh, warming. Someone mentions coconut oil and exotic fruits instead of the pears. Herbal (eucalyptus?), body lotion? I begin to doubt myself. Creamy mouthfeel. Sweet with balancing woody dryness. Some ginger, perhaps pepper nearly like the Jamesons. Spices like a Swedish forest says one @AngelasShare: Juniper pine... The complexity is exciting and it goes on developing.

Finally, the Mystery Dram - or whatever "dram" is in Irish. We are asked to guess its identity, and are given one clue: it's single pot still (gee, thanks!). It is not nearly as fruity on the nose as the Jamesons, with more Japanese whisky-like aromas. I tweet: earthy with hints of leather and polish. Someone chips in with cigar box, and tobacco.

On the palate it is honeyed malty spicy. A tweet comes across: layers of charred wood, dark chocolate and treacle toffee. I think it is herbal and deep, or rather, more rounded. None of us has any real clue to its identity, so Fintan lets on that it is the Power's John Lane, which is a pure pot still version of the Powers Gold label. Released in Sweden in 2012.

See what I mean? Praise all round for these Irish gems - even the "ordinary". Two of the whiskies here: the 18 yo and the Barry Crockett, I love. They are a bit pricier, coming in at around £75/895SEK and €160/1300SEK (when released), but I wonder if there is still a way to go to overcome the "blend" image for malt whisky regulars. The Jameson motto is Sine Metu "without fear". Perhaps it's time for some of us to show a bit of boldness. And for Jameson to drop this "smooth" thing...

Thanks to Fintan Collier @Jameson_Grad_SE and also to Colin Campbell @TheScotsdreamer for organisation and inviting me.

Jameson online shop

The story so far...

Jamie Oliver discovers beer and food go great together in the kitchen. and tells the French to do something anatomically regrettable with their wine. It's all part of the Yorkshire episode of his trip around Britain. And having insulted an entire nation wisely comes up with a proof of his own devising that there is an affinity between food and beer: a Persian-inspired recipe Guinness lamb shanks.

The Middle East not being the hotbed of beer recipes it once was, you can guess the Persian part of the influence comes from the non-beer ingredients. In the televised sequence, I think he uses an ale from the Leeds Brewery, but by the time the recipe is posted on the C4 website, the recipe's name has magically transmuted into "Guinness lamb shanks".  I've had a go myself

The recipe suggests as an alternative to Guinness "a good dark ale", which is about as helpful as saying "add some nice red meat here", but it does give me some room for my own suggestion. Given the inspiration for the dish, I have what I think are some even better suggestions that combine dark fruit flavours and dark-ish ale, and have a couple of ideas for beers to pair with it.

Here is the recipe.

At the end of cooking, to finish the sauce, I added a good slug of Fuller's London Porter; Guinness will do fine, especially if you can find a bottle of Export Stout. I picked up this trick from a Keith Floyd recipe for chicken in beer - and it does add an extra depth to the sauce.

Jamie's recipe forbids any substitution for the mint oil and spring onion garnish, which is intended to give a refreshing lift to the final dish. However, Waitrose seemed only willing to sell me half a hundredweight of mint, so I made a fresh oregano oil instead. It adds a sharp lightness to the finished dish, and I think, probably goes better with the beer.

To accompany? More Fuller's 1845 would do nicely, but an extra Jamie-type tweak would be Fuller's Vintage (8.5.%) Also available from Waitrose, if they haven't replaced it to make room for more fresh mint. As a contrast, Fullers Discovery (4.2%), which is made with a proportion of wheat, would give a refreshingly zesty and slightly floral contrast.

Links
Previous blog post in which Jamie discovers the joys of cooking with beer and sticks it to the French.

Jamie's Great Britain Episode 2

http://www.channel4.com/programmes/jamies-great-britain/4od#3251660

Jamie Oliver's Persian-inspired Guinness and lamb shank recipe.

Fuller's beers

Lambshank Redemption blog (got to my headline before me...)

After I had a bit of a moan about Observer readers voting for bars with bergamot vodka cocktails, I was delighted to hear from @exnunviv that beer features in an episode from Jamie Oliver's latest Chanel 4 series. If, in the Observer's UK they would rather have Hanky Panky(s) in a Soho bar, it's great to know that there's a place for beer in Jamie's Great Britain.

"Jaime travels to Yorkshire to sample Yorkshire pudding and ale", runs the blurb on the Channel 4 website. And if that conjures up an image of the dreaded cliché of flat caps and whippets, then you haven't reckoned with the trademark Oliver twists. 15 minutes into the show, there's a short bit in a pub involving said delicacy, and then he is off to the up-and-coming Leeds Brewery, a city micro not five years old.

Mention of Yorkshire brewing legend Timothy Taylor and cricket "guru" Geoff Boycott get us rolling and then Jamie and his crew take us on a short tour of Leeds Brewery and on to one of their pubs. The cooks there are "re-inventing pub grub using different beers in whatever they can make". We are told: "At least half of the dishes on the menu are cooked with some style of beer. "Everywhere where wine would go, we try and put beer instead." For example, bacon and black pudding in a salad with a dressing made from an ale reduction.

Jamie says, "As with wine, beer can offer a totally different flavour to food depending on how it's used and where the hops come from". The cooks here use hops from America, Eastern Europe and "Good-old Blighty". Jamie learns that English hops are "more mellow", American are "more in-your-face and light" (I think he said), and the Eastern European hops are "perfumed".

There is a mussel dish in which Leeds Pale ale, with its Eastern European hops, is used where white wine would traditionally be, in a version of moules mariniere. It is at this point that Jamie informs the French about vino-rectal insertion. Even I wouldn't go that far - and certainly not on camera, but Jamie does, and in one sentence brings a credibility to the beer with food cause that a thousand emails to Saturday Kitchen never could.

Cut to the pub table to show some finished dishes: sausages with beer, the salad with beer dressing, and beer and onion soup - all served (and I hope, paired) with beer. That might not appear radical at first, but in any normal pub, the dishes would be made with red onion gravy, wine vinegar dressing, and perhaps cider for the soup. By not being too wacky, this pub wins people over by demonstrating beer's easy affinity with food in recognisable combinations.

Jamie concludes the piece by demonstrating a Persian-inspired dish of lamb shanks that includes beer. I've made it myself, so come back and hear how I got on.

Jamie Oliver makes a point of his being brought up in a pub, and it's good to know cavolo nero and porcini haven't caused him to forsake the hop and the malt. And if the popping sounds you hear in kitchens across the land take on a slightly different character, you know cooks are taking Jamie's instruction to heart.

Thanks to Sam Moss at Leeds Brewery for use of the photo.

Links
Jamie's Great Britain Episode 2, About 15 minutes in.

Leeds Brewery's flagship pub The Midnigt Bell

Leeds Brewery