Christmas for me is also a time for reflection and giving thanks. As an atheist, I don’t thank any fictional beardy-weirdy in the sky, but I certainly believe in thanking all those who make my life better every day, simply by being true to themselves, and by dint of what they produce.

On that note, there are three pillars of NZ brewing I think deserve a bit of thanks this Christmas season. I’m about to shamelessly flatter some of my heroes. If you’re embarassed by reading that sort of thing, I hear Kate has a cool article with a beer cave in it for you to read instead.

First up, Richard Emerson. Where would brewing in New Zealand be without this man? Deaf as a post, sharp as a tack, and thirsty as a horse, Richard is the godfather of New Zealand brewing. I was going to use the word “arguably”, but the hell with it. This is my blog, and on this matter, I’ll brook no argument. Richard was here in Hamilton this week for a “meet the brewer” night at the Ruakura Campus Club, and I managed a few beers with him beforehand (and indeed, afterwards), and he reminded me just why he is so beloved amongst the beer community in New Zealand.  It’s not just about his raw talent for brewing, and the way he “feels” the right combination of malts and hops for his brews, he’s also just a hell of a nice guy. Richard always has the time to share what he’s been doing on his pilot plant, and is always equally interested in what others are brewing, why, and what they taste like. Emerson’s beers have lit the path down which many a kiwi craft brewer has followed, and for that I am extremely appreciative. Thanks King One, for setting a benchmark.

The next King on the list is Carl Vasta of Tuatara. Now, I’m not going to debate the quality of Tuatara beers here. I’ve had stunners and shockers, but that’s to be expected when a brewery grows as quickly as Tuatara have. Carl is every bit the nice guy that Richard is, and though I don’t get to have a pint with him anywhere near often enough, his quiet and understated sense of achievement always inspires me. Having said that, most brewers in New Zealand are pretty nice people, so what gets Carl on this list? Pretty simple really. I doubt many people would argue that Wellington is the hub of craft beer appreciation in New Zealand. It’s hard to find a bar, café, or restaurant where at least one variety of decent beer can’t be found. The punters are knowledgeable, and the bars provide for the demand in ever increasing numbers. All of this sprung from the groundbreaking work of Tuatara shareholders and associates, past and present, and all of that was made possible by the beer brewed by Carl Vasta. Hail to King Two for planting a seed which grew to a mighty oak!

And now we come to the Imperial Imp himself, Luke Nicholas of Epic. Many find Luke’s style fairly in-your-face, and not everyone appreciates that in a country well known for Tall Poppy Syndrome. Well, as I said, this is where I unashamedly praise my heroes, and brash, get-shit-done, take-no-prisoners Luke certainly deserves the position of King Three. As an individual, I think Luke has single handedly opened more eyes to craft beer in New Zealand than any other brewer I can think of. While many brewers are content to let the product speak for itself, and would rather be in the brewery making magic than out the front making sales, Luke genuinely loves watching people get that “wow” look when they drink his beer and realise that beer for them has changed forever. Long live King Three for promoting beer with flavour where others fear to drink.

I’m thankful to the Royal Personages above, and for all they have wrought, I hope you will all join me in thanking them also.

Happy Christmas, and Cheers!

I don’t like having to define craft beer. It bugs me in much the same way that I avoid record stores (“what are those daddy?”) which group music by genre, instead of alphabetically by artist. One man’s alternative rock is another woman’s electric folk. Who is correct? Does grouping like this serve any purpose? So too, I believe, with craft beer.

It has been suggested to me by the wonderful people at BeerMen.TV that it should be all about size. That definition is good enough for the Brewers Association in the USA, so why not elsewhere? Well, for a start I think that’s the wrong question. Not why not, but why? After all, if it’s based on size, why should that be proportional in an international market? Many massive breweries around the world would be considered craft by the BA standard. That standard was also recently revised solely in order to accomodate the Boston Beer Company. Now, while they do indeed make excellent beer – six million barrles a year – they are MASSIVE by non-USA standards. To put that into perspective, Lion Nathan brews just 7.7 million barrels per year.  So Lion Nathan is almost a craft brewery?

No, if you want to define craft beer, size is a terrible measure in my book.

I also don’t like the conflation of separate political issues which come about whenever this thorny problem arises. There are many reasons to want to define craft beers and craft breweries, and just as many agendas to serve in doing so. The issue which most often comes up is “support the small guy versus the big guy”. Now, I think this is almost as innate in us as it is irrational. All big guys were once small guys themselves. With enough support, the small become big. What we are actually saying is “we support you, wee battler, until you reach a certain size, at which point you are evil, and beneath our contempt”. Insane? Yep. I prefer to judge all companies on their products and on their actions. If a company is making terrible products, well, I won’t buy them, and I’ll recommend others follow my example. If a company is torturing lithuanian orphans, well, I’ll kick up a stink about that and do the same thing. There is no rational reason for hating a big company other than for behaviour or product quality. Yes, poor behaviour does include passing your product off as something it is not, and yes big companies do that sometimes, as do small contract brewers. For the record, Brewaucracy doesn’t!

So we’ve decided that we do want to define craft beer or craft breweries for reason X. OK, how then? Intent is important, I think. Craft beer is beer brewed for the love of flavour. Craft beer can certainly be brewed to make money, but quality is never sacrificed. So, I guess we need to measure quality as a statement of intent. Quality is, of course, a very subjective thing once you get beyond cleanly brewed, fault free beer. The popular beer rating sites such as ratebeer.com and beeradvocate.com throw this fact into stark relief. The same beer, from the same batch, purchased at roughly the same time, can receive drastically different ratings. Generally, over time, the consensus reveals the general opinion of the beer though. One thing worth noting is that almost no Big Brewing Company beers score well. Now yes, there’s a large element of bias here, but how’s this for a rough shot at a definition?

Greig’s Crack At A Craft Beer and Craft Brewery Definition version 0.1

Craft beer should be defined solely on quality, to be determined by a representative sample of consumers. To be designated a craft brewery, one must have most (75%?) of one’s products rated at or above the determined baseline.

Now, how to ensure a reasonable sampling of non biased consumers, and who decides what the proportions and scores should be… well, that’s somebody else’s problem!

Now, it might be more than a little naff to begin a blog post by quoting Tears for Fears, but I caught a snatch of Mr Pessimist the other day, and that couplet connected with the theme that’s been haunting my thoughts, while floating elusively out of my mental reach.

The jigsaw assembled itself properly while I was visiting Melbourne for Good Beer Week. Experiencing the pride and excitement the Australians have for their beers and brewers, feeling the camaraderie, and seeing the queues out the door of notable craft beer venues were uplifting things to behold. There was a dramatic contrast between this joy of spirit, and the feeling I’d had on leaving New Zealand, where the last thing I’d done is catch up on the forums on Realbeer. I shouldn’t have done that.

What is it about we Kiwis that causes us to be constantly sniping, looking for holes, and generally being sad sacks about things? I’ve heard it described as “tall poppy syndrome”, but I’ve seen it expressed as dislike of any new idea from any source, even more diminutive members of the family Papaveraceae.

We have such a lively and creative beer scene here in New Zealand. With every chance we get, we should be banging that tambourine. After all, every time we convince another person to drink flavourful craft beer, made right here in New Zealand, that’s one more little bit of demand in the market which helps to ensure more great beer for us to enjoy.

I’m not trying to say we should all be “fake”. Constructive criticism is encouraged almost everywhere. Nobody can fix a problem if they are not aware they have one. Also, there are some things about which it’s just not possible to have anything but a sense of withering disdain. Neither am I claiming to be blameless here. I’ve certainly been guilty of having a dig when it would have been just as easy, and far more productive to be positive. What I am suggesting is that we try harder. Don’t assume there’s a dark motive behind a new release. Give the benefit of the doubt instead of assuming the worst. Don’t pour scorn just to sound aloof or cool. Passion is cool. Get passionate!

It’s time for me to stop being the “evangelistic brother” now, but I’ll finish up by saying we have an amazing beer scene. Get amongst it. Celebrate it. Hug a brewer, a barman, a fellow drinker, and just feel lucky. It might be contagious!

*UPDATE*

In case it seems that way, this is NOT an “Australia is better than us” post. I loved the little I’ve seen of Australia, but I also love NZ dearly. The GBW experience was simply a catalyst for something that’s been bugging me for quite some time. Right. As you were.

I honestly just don’t know where to start. Perhaps with the two quotes which got me the most steamed. This well-written article contained the following quote: “But according to Monteith’s head brewer Tony Mercer, the story of beer hasn’t really been told”. Well, gee. I wonder why that could be? Perhaps because DB is so intent on pushing lowest-common-denominator style over educational substance for its brands. And they are brands. Not beers. I can’t remember the last time I heard a press release from DB which talked about the flavours of the individual beers being promoted. Lucky for us that Single Source is here to do what nobody else has ever done and tell us the story of beer! Once upon a time, children, beer was invented by DB! Of course, plenty of people have told the story of beer. If only most of the pubs in NZ weren’t locked down by our big duopoly, perhaps that story would be far more widely known. Small brewers love to talk about their beer. Actualy TALK about the beer – the flavours, the ingredients, the passion. Not just the image that they say drinking that beer will give you.

The second thing that bugs me, and the thing that brought this to my attention was the other quote from the above article: “So Grant Caunter, DB’s innovations guy, believes this level of traceability in a beer is a world-first.” – Except Keith Galbraith has been doing it for ages. Sorry, it’s a Flash site, so you’ll have to click Beers, then Our Beers. Read all about the level of pride Keith takes in his beer, and the detail he provides about the origins of all his ingredients. And Keith is just the most high profile of the small brewers who care about their ingredients. I don’t think I’ve ever met a craft brewer in NZ who didn’t care about what ingredients they use, and where they come from. Yep, DB’s Grant Caunter. Nice to see you innovating there. Good job. Have a Tui on me. Seriously, this rubbish is what passes for innovation? Step 1. Nick someone else’s idea. Step 2. Chuck a massive marketing budget at it. Step 3. Boast about how innovative you are, and what a service to beer you’re doing by telling people the story of beer. Once upon a time, children, we stopped dumbing down beer quite so much as we usually do, then we took credit for “telling the story of beer” via someone else’s idea.

Now, moving on from the blatantly misleading, and into the just weird. These snippets just prove how stupid DB think we beer drinkers really are.

It’s important to know the elements that go into making a beer. If you don’t understand the source, you’re not going to understand the finished beer.

Once upon a time, children, we tried to tell people that they couldn’t understand any of our other products, since we don’t tell them the source of the ingredients that go into them.

A beer that didn’t need to rely on hype to be appreciated.

Once upon a time, children, we managed to imply that all our other beers are just hype, while hyping our new beer. Which isn’t. Honest.

The great thing about Single Source is that nothing is hidden.

Once upon a time, children, we explained that Single Source is not hiding any nasty surprises, unlike our other beers!

I understand it’s a pricey drop too, due in part to the black light excluding bottle. Well, good on DB for realising that light is the enemy of beer. I’m sure they will immediately be packaging their entire range in black glass too, so that none of their other beers are tainted by light strike! After all, a company that knows this would never package their fine products in UV-admitting clear glass, now would they?

The bright side, at least, is that by making it acceptable to pay $10 for a beer in a bar, DB may help some of their craft brewing cousins, who don’t have massive economies of scale and marketing budgets, and need to charge $8-10 a pint to make money. Here’s hoping that catches on and the story of beer ends with all craft brewers living happily ever after.

First, some background. I took up the challenge of running this year’s NHC because the previous organisers felt they’d come to the limits of the time they could donate. I understand why. This is NOT an easy job! I didn’t want to see the competition fall on the floor, and no other offers to organise it were forthcoming, so I thought “how hard can it be?” and took up the challenge. Well… it was a lot harder than I thought.

First, we needed a good website to act as the focal point for rules, style guidelines, answering questions, and taking entries and payments. Brendon MacKenzie made this side of it a dream by modifying last year’s website to do the job. Something I learned though is that people do not read. Something can be specifically stated on the website, and still entrants will ignore it. The prime example of this was brewers notes. The FAQ says when and why to enter a note, and advises that in most cases the brewer shouldn’t need to. Despite this, far too many entrants put things we simply didn’t need to know in the notes area – such as “all grain”, “5.2 abv”, “34 IBU”, “finest quality malt”, etc. Notes are for advising the judges of the brewer’s intent IF the beer deviates from style, or if it is in a specialty or “open” style. In this case, notes are an absolute MUST, and too many entrants didn’t provide any. I hadn’t realised how frustrating this could be until I took my turn at the judging table, but more on that later. Suffice it to say that several beers missed out on better scores, and even medals, due to lack of correct notes.

Something I didn’t take into account is just how much room nearly 600 beers can take up. I had planned to store the entries in a portable chilling trailer, but this fell through, so I prevailed on a friend (and fellow trainee judge, Phil Murray) to lend me a cool interior room at his workplace to store all the beers. Because it was a workplace, we only had access during working hours, and because I was judging this year, I couldn’t see the entries. Thanks to my wife Alexandra, and Phil’s fiancée Beth, for all the work they did in cataloguing and sorting/boxing up the entries. This job took two people the best part of 30 hours between them over two weeks. Entrants next year, please remember that checking every individual entry and letting you know if it has arrived is a little frustrating. Just trust us that we will let you know if it doesn’t show up, or if it was damaged. Thankfully this year, there were very few casualties of the postal system. Commiserations to those two brewers who did have problems.

In terms of a venue to hold the event, we couldn’t have been luckier. John Edmonds, club manager for the Ruakura Campus Club, offered us the RCC at just the cost to pay the cleaner. This gave us an excellent venue with a kitchen, chiller, and glasswasher (absolutely essential) allowing the judges to focus on judging and the stewards on getting the beers in front of the judges in excellent condition.

Sponsors have been great to us this year, with Farra Engineering offering a 30L stainless fermenter to the champion brewer, Hallertau offering to brew the “best in show” beer (and Steve’s going to have fun with this one), and Liberty Brewing offering “win your beer back” kits for the best ale and best lager.

Happily, the judging weekend itself went extremely smoothly, though we had one judge pull out a few days beforehand. Luckily for us, we roped in ex-winemaker, sometime brewer, and all-round great guy Simon Henderson to fill the gap. He did an admirable job at short notice, and really helped us out.

As for the judging itself, this is an area I have a lot to comment on. My goal, communicated to the judges right from day one, was to provide the best quality feedback ever from a NHC. To this end, we recruited some of the best judges in NZ. Our panel consisted of two World Beer Cup judges (Graeme Mahy and Geoff Griggs), backed up by a solid team of very experienced judges, and three “trainees”, Allan Hawkes, Phil Murray, and myself. In order to deal with the 294 entries, we ran three tables, each with two experienced judges and a trainee. After much deliberation, I made the call as organiser that only one scoresheet per beer would be completed. This forced the judges to collaborate, and discuss their impressions at length for each beer, before those thoughts were transcribed to the scoresheet by the table scribe (being the trainee judges – I apologise for the spidery scrawl from table 3, that was me). I believe this achieved the goal well, though there were still issues…

The main problem was the scoring itself. One of our judges was quite vocal in his opposition to the BJCP scoring system, and half way through the first day, I was fully in agreement with him. We thought that it meant the judges spent far too long thinking about the numbers, and not enough time analysing the qualities of the beer in front of them. The three different tables tackled “the numbers” in different ways. For example, table three (myself, Kieran Haslett-Moore, and Geoff Griggs) decided on medal worthiness first, then worked out what the scores should be to achieve that result, while remaining within the realms of reality. Table two (Graeme Mahy, Albrecht van Wallmoden, and Phil Murray) worked through the individual scores for each area, then adjusted up or down to fit their idea of medal-worthiness, and table one (Ben Middlemiss, Simon Henderson, and Allan Hawkes) just seemed to give a lot of zeroes! OK, seriously, they were harsh, but they were fair. They discussed the beer in depth, then discussed the scores. This led to a very well thought out score, though I often wondered if it caused them to over think it and talk the beer down to a lower score. For interest’s sake, at the end of day one, table three had the highest average score, and table one the lowest, though there was no more than a point in it, so judging methods resulted in similar scores. For improvement, I’d spend some time next year ensuring all judges agreed on the same method of evaluation and scoring, and perhaps institute cross table sampling to ensure calibration is maintained. I’ll come back to the scores later…

Timing was difficult. Some beers required a lot of discussion. Some were horribly infected and really couldn’t be judged beyond “infected, fix your sanitation”. For the record, table three scored these beers “12″ and gave few comments. The other tables gave zeros. What can I say, we’re nicer. Anyway, because some beers took a long time, and some were quick. This made planning flights and breaks tricky, and there was a fair bit of stress involved knowing we had to get through nearly 100 beers per table over one and a half days. We did manage it though! Ten minutes per beer seemed like a fair average, allowing for much discussion and good feedback to be given. I apologise to any entrant who feels they didn’t get detailed feedback. We really did do our best, but I’m sure a few slipped through with a little less detail than we could have given. Some beers (usually the very good, and the very bad) were hard to comment in detail beyond “well done”, or “you really need to fix your sanitation/fermentation/yeast health etc”.

Kieran, who judged at last year’s competition, confirmed my suspicion that this year’s standard was a lot lower than previous years. There were far too many badly infected beers, and so many so far out of style that the judges were just left scratching their heads and wondering “what the hell was the brewer thinking with this”? Brewers, be very careful when you enter your beers. Choose the style well, and always taste it with the style description in front of you, and a brutally honest friend or enemy to confirm or challenge your selection.

Finally, a note for entrants on bottle variation. While we were cleaning up, the stewards, Phil, and myself decided to play “beer roulette” with the remaining entries. We’d pick a bottle at random, find the judging sheet, and see how it compared with the judging sheet. Most of the time, it was spot on, fully justifying the judges opinion. Other times it was MILES out. As in, there would be no off flavours mentioned on the sheet, but the beer in the glass was a train wreck of diacetyl or other faults. Or vice versa. The only explanation for this, given how accurate the judging seemed to have been, was variation between entered bottles. Having experienced this with my own brews, I’d suggest several brewers cost themselves medals by having a good bottle and a bad bottle, and the judges got the bad ‘un. Also, if you know your bottle foams, PLEASE advise this. Many stewards got slightly damp, and many beers presented poorly due to the foaming stirring up the yeast.

I hope nobody was offended by anything in this post. The goal is so you can all see “under the kimono” of the NHC, and help make following years better for entrants, judges, stewards, and organisers. I hope it was interesting.

A reminder that results will be posted out by the 13th of November, and there is a presentation ceremony on the 13th at Hallertau Brewbar. This event is limited in seats, so please advise nhcawards@soba.org.nz to book a seat.

You’re all waiting for my long and angry rant now, aren’t you? Go on, admit it. It’s OK, if you’d been around when I heard the news (as several good friends were – apologies to Jamie, Phil, Kieran, Graeme and others) you’d have got one. However, I’ve chilled out, relaxed, and hell, a part of me is even pleased about that result.

Why? Well, first, let’s address the result itself.

The trophy is awarded to the New Zealand brewery with the highest average score across its three highest scoring entries. DB, no matter what you might think of them, make clean, well made beers. They have previously had an unpleasant banana ester across most of their range which I personally can’t stomach, but that’s immaterial when part of the style description is “light fruity esters are acceptable”. I’ve also not drunk their beers for a long while now, so it’s a little unfair for me to criticise this, as it may not be so present anymore. In this case, the beers nearly perfectly epitomised the styles they entered. Arguably, many of these “NZ specific” styles were created for the Big Two so they have somewhere to enter their beers. The other side to that argument is they accurately reflect the beers NZ likes to drink. I’ll leave that argument to another blogger, as it’s a bit of a digression here, but it’s a debate which desperately needs to be had.

Historically, Lion Nathan balances these style categories. DB have medalled in some, while Lion Nathan have not, and vice versa. The Big Two almost cancel each other out for points leaving the craft brewers a fairly clean run at the Champion Brewer trophy. This means we’ve had two great winners in the last two years, being Tuatara and Emerson’s. It was inevitible at some point that one of the Big Two would dominate the other, and thus take out the trophy. 2010 was that year. Apparently it was only by a gnat’s nut that Three Boys were pipped, but there you go. That’s the nature of competitions.

OK, so what’s to be pleased about? One of those DB results was for Monteith’s Black. It won the European Lager Styles category, in which it won a silver medal (almost perfectly epitomises the style) and the trophy (so it scored the most points for style adherence in that category). It’s a lager. But it’s BLACK! This will be mindblowing for many “mainstream” drinkers, and thanks to the huge amount of publicity around these awards, it might wake a few up to the fact that lagers can be black, and that beer isn’t quite as simple as lager, dark, and draught. Monteith’s Black is a Schwarzbier – a German styled black lager. How many of those who habitually drink it will know that? Hopefully, a few more might think about that and it could be their entry point into the world of beer styles, and the amazing flavours they can bring.

Secondly, it’s caused a fair bit of embarrassment among many of the craft brewers who make up the bulk of the Brewers Guild, not to mention many SOBA members. From a SOBA point of view, we work hard year round to promote craft beer and the brewers who brew it. We support the Brewers Guild in nearly all things, but then that Guild’s event produces the only result the media will bother reporting (ignoring all the excellent beers and breweries who won medals and trophies) which sends the message to the public “why bother drinking all that craft crap when the best beer in NZ is made by DB”? They won’t look at the style categories, the results, or even read much of the analysis. They’ll just see that Champion Brewery result. So why is that good? Because it will hopefully force some change within the Guild. Hopefully this situation won’t happen again. I’ve heard a couple of good proposals from brewers and judges, and I have hope things will be changed for the better.

With that said, and taking my early anger into account, I feel a little conflicted here. The “good guys” failed to win at their own competition, and as a result, they change the rules to exclude or punish the “bad guys”. Is that fair? If the Radler episode has taught me anything, it’s taught me to play the ball and not the player. I bear DB no ill will at all. I just think it’s better for beer in NZ if craft breweries continue to win the awards and thus gain the publicity from BrewNZ and Beervana. Does that justify changing the award parameters? I don’t know. That’s what the comments section is for! This is a thorny and complex topic, and I’ve barely scratched the surface. Have at it.

*EDIT* See Stu’s points in the comments for more clarification on how points are achieved.

Until now.

There’s a brewery I like very much who make excellent quality beer. The consistency is outstanding among their peers. The beers are clean, subtle, flavoursome, and approachable. The brewer is a cool person, and the sales people are fun too. but something has happened. What started as a joking exchange on Twitter seems to have revealed a bit of “big guy” style marketing. The new thing to do seems to be to go on a lot about how the brewery in question brews with “pure water” and nobody else does. They’ve started referring to fellow craft brewers’ products as “tap water beers”. I think this is a bit much, and it feels ugly.

The claim itself is, of course, marketing nonsense of the highest order. What is “pure water”? H2O? You certainly can’t brew with that. Without sending everyone to sleep, the chemistry involved in brewing beer requires certain amounts of minerals which have all sorts of effects on the pH and flavour profile of the beer – it has an impact on everything from clarity, to flavour, to perceived bitterness, and even to shelf life.

It is possible to brew beer with very soft water – that is, water lacking in much mineral content, but it’s only suited to certain styles of beer, and even then, you still need some mineral content. As a result, every brewery does one of two things: Work with whatever local water supply they have access to (spring, city supply, whatever) and brew beers which suit that water, or they start with a “base” known water profile (could be pure deionised water, or the local source) and treat it to add the mineral profile they require. The end result could be chemically identical (or near as makes no odds) to the brewery claiming to use “pure” water. Just because brewer A gets his water from a mountain stream and brewster B gets hers from the municipal supply, de-chlorinates and filters it, then adds some salts to achieve the exact chemical profile required, doesn’t make either more or less “pure”. Judge the finished beer on flavour, not on perceived quality of ingredients.

In competitions, beer is judged blind. There’s a very good reason for this. Leave the silly marketing tricks to the peddlers of flavourless industrial beer, and please realise that your market is a lot smarter than that.

To the person who inspired this post – no hard feelings, I still love ya man! I just thought it needed to be said.

This was no mean feat, for several reasons. I’ll leave singing my own praises right out of this. I’m not the best public speaker in the world, so I can’t claim I swayed the audience with my shining wit. In fact, if anything, Dan was in fine form, and should perhaps have won on pure debating points alone. He does this sort of thing a lot though, whereas I’m usually limited to rowdy and unwelcome interjections from the sidelines, so I guess he had an edge there. He also claimed the room was stacked with beer friendly people. I felt the opposite was true! Several people I knew as avowed beer drinkers (and close friends) were voting honestly, occasionally putting wine as their preferred match – to my horror! Still, everyone is allowed to be wrong sometimes… I feel that 90% of people present (myself included) voted honestly and without bias. I genuinely believe that beer is a much better match with food than wine, and this proved that point for me because… well… I should have lost.

No, I’m not being self-deprecating here. The primary reason I should have lost was that of the five beers I selected to match the five courses, three were badly flawed. It was only testament to just how effortlessly beer matches food that even with the flaws, the beer and food matches were at worst adequate.

Before I go on, I need to get a few important things out of the way. Firstly, this was not the fault of House, Hamilton Wine Company, or anyone else involved in sourcing the beers. I’ve had this experience many times, with New Zealand craft beer purchased from many different locations. Secondly, this is not a dig at any particular brewer or brewery. I’ve experienced this across the board with almost every craft brewery in New Zealand at some point or another. Even with that said, I’m not posting the menu or selections here (though I was going to), lest people assume that I am saying those particular beers are bad. Far from it. These beers, when fresh, are excellent beverages and do the brewers proud. So please, read this in the spirit it is intended – a starter point for discussion of a problem I believe needs solving urgently. It’s not an attack on anyone.

All three beers which were flawed were in various states of oxidation. One had a huge problem with acetaldehyde (green apple) aroma, and one was little but cardboard and marmitey yeast autolysis flavour. It’s extremely hard to stand in front of a room full of people and wax eloquent about how much better craft beer is than mass produced beer when what’s in your glass almost makes you wish you had a clean BigBrewCo EdgePureLite(tm)(r) instead. Luckily, in all three cases, there was just enough of the original beer character left to create matching magic.

What’s the answer then? I know for a fact that craft brewers are NOT doing it for the money. Most are over-capitalised, under-resourced, and mortgaged to the hilt for their art. They make beer because they love to make beer, not as a method of making money. Buying a really expensive multi-jillion dollar industrial bottling line is far beyond their means.

What else? Bottle conditioning? It certainly does make the beer more robust by maintaining some live yeast in the bottle. That said, it can also result in wildly varying character if not done extremely well. Not everyone feels comfortable with that. Consumers are fickle beasts also, and not many would appreciate having to carefully decant the beer off the yeast. Heaven help the brewer if the punter ends up with yeast in their glass either – “Oi! Wot’s this gunk”? Not that then…

Some form of “brewer’s collective” who purchase fancy bottling lines between them? Nah – you’d still have to transport the beer to the bottling line. Not great for beer. It would just shift the root cause of the problem.

An evolution of the above option would be for contract brewing to play a wider role. Why does every brewer need their own expensive setup? Well, this is closely related to why brewers brew anyway. It’s just not the same to send your recipe off to someone else and hope for the best. Even if you brew it yourself on someone else’s setup, there’s still a feeling that it’s not totally “yours”. So that one’s a maybe, but not likely.

Perhaps then, CAMRA’s LocALE is the answer? Beer is ideally drunk fresh, as close to the brewery as possible. That would be fine if the market were larger and that won’t happen if poor condition beers are used to attempt to grow it. Chicken and egg, or longterm solution?

What else is there? I don’t know, but as someone who spends a lot of time trying to promote craft beer, and really wants this problem solved, I’d love to hear some suggestions. Please, by all means, discuss!

The organisation continues to grow, with our 400th member being signed up in April. Interestingly, the email to say this had happened came through during Marchfest in Nelson, where a team of SOBA stalwarts were signing up members “offline”, so 400 may have come around sooner than we thought!

One of the goals shared by all the original founding SOBA people, as we fomented rebellion around a noisy wooden table at the “old” Malthouse on Willis Street in Wellington, was that we wanted to fight a positive campaign. We were realists as well as idealists. We all knew it’s hard to praise the good without sometimes calling into question the qualities of the bad. We also knew that, when small batch craft beer was being maligned by mass market bullies, that we’d have to stand up and fight in the corner of the little guys, and that this can sometimes get ugly. The Radler issue* is an example of this. Even so, as I have always said, we are not anti big brewer, we are simply pro good beer. It doesn’t matter to us who produces it.

Where was I? Oh yes, being positive… I was reading Pete Brown’s piece on CAMRA and the sense of entitlement they seem to hold. I resigned from CAMRA last year with more than a pang of regret at leaving this well meaning group who have achieved more over their lifetime than any other consumer organisation I can think of. My reasons were varied, but were mainly as follows.

Firstly, they are all about regulation. Those who know me know that I’m a fairly passionate libertarian. The “left” and the “right” both annoy me in equal amounts. I just want people to be left alone to do whatever they want to do, with the government limited to protecting me from initiation of force from them, and them from me. CAMRA seem to see the government as a solution to almost everything these days. Yet, like goldfish with three second memories, they fail to notice that many of the problems which they campaign against are a result of “well intentioned” government legislation. This is known as the law of unintended consequences, and the more you want the government to fight your battles for you using the big stick of legislation, the more unintended consequences you will see. Sometimes they are worse than the original problem.

Secondly, there was the insularity I noticed in their publications. Every other article seemed to be about the governance of the organisation – AGMs, branch meetings, policy, etc. All these are important things. A society can’t exist without them. The problem is, reading about them doesn’t do a thing to promote real ale, which is, after all, the core function of CAMRA. I can’t see any of it firing people up to get down to their local and demand real ale.

Finally, the infighting, bickering, and passive-aggressive “I think you’ll find” supercilliousness of the letters page in their publications just turned me right off. If this was representative of their membership, I just didn’t want to be one of them. I felt terrible when I realised that, and I want to make it clear that I do NOT think CAMRA members are generally like that. One of the best times in my life was at a CAMRA beer festival in Margate in 2008 (Planet Thanet – amazing time). I met some great CAMRA members, all of whom made excellent ambassadors for the organisation. These people are just gold, but they never seem represented in CAMRA publications. What does come across in spades is the old “beards and sandals” stereotype I thought CAMRA were trying to break.

Pete’s blog post made me realise that I hadn’t made the wrong choice. I still support CAMRA’s goals, if not the methods they might use to achieve them. It also made me think about some of our original goals for SOBA, and reinforced my commitment to those goals.

I know some people who joined SOBA “for discounts”. Sure, they ideologically identify with promoting good beer, and do a bit of promotion themselves. When House opened here in Hamilton though, these people riled me a little. The first reaction wasn’t to be impressed at a bar selling relatively low margin product at a very competitive price because they loved good beer. It wasn’t to be happy that the quality of the food was really high, the atmosphere was great, and the staff were friendly. It also wasn’t to appreciate the variety of interesting NZ craft beer in the fridge. Did they realise how tricky this was to pull off in conservative “give us a Waikato thanks mate” Hamilton? Nope. They first asked “do we get a discount”?. After that, they proceeded to complain that the beer range wasn’t as exciting as it could be, that the coffee was pretty ordinary, or that there wasn’t a bottle of “X Fabulous Belgian Ale” in the fridge. This behaviour is not limited to Hamiltonians, or even SOBA members, but it still bugs me. Hell, I’ve caught myself doing it before, and that bugs me even more!

Reality check: Part of the fight to raise awareness of craft beer means realising the limitations of the playing field we are on. Owning a bar doesn’t mean “you can put whatever you like on”. You have to consider qualities which craft beer can often make difficult like shelf life, consistency, and the margin you can make on the volume you expect to sell. We SOBA people might think we’re doing really well finishing an entire keg of Three Boys IPA in a night. Guess what? In that time, the bar has sold four kegs of Waikato at twice the margin per pint. Remind me again why you’d stock craft beer if you owned a bar?

Now, I’m painting a really bleak picture here to make a point. Sure there’s the other side of the argument that “generic” bars come and go all the time. Beer can be, and is becoming, a serious point of difference amongst bar owners. They’re running on low margins in order to guarantee customer loyalty and long term survival. My point stands though. Don’t dwell on any perceived negatives. Accentuate the positive!

Does that mean that constructive feedback isn’t welcome? Hell no. I have a friend who doesn’t like the coffee at House. Instead of whinging about it, he’s mentioned to the manager that he knows a guy who runs barista training sessions, and attempted to make something happen there. That’s a great thing to do. The simple rule I follow in these situations is “don’t bitch about something unless you can suggest a way to fix it”.

Also, promote the spread of craft beer. If a bar opens with one craft beer tap on, don’t whinge that they only have the one tap. Get in there and drink that tap dry! Talk to the bar staff. Tell them how much you love that Epic Pale Ale, but have they also considered stocking a nice stout on tap? Make sure you thank them for any steps in the right direction. Also, remember that your comments and feedback will only be taken seriously if they are backed up by spending. Just because you aked for it isn’t enough. If it goes on, and nobody drinks it, guess what will happen? Get your mates in!

I’ve probably ranted enough. I blame Pete! Good on him though. It’s no good assuming that just because you agree with the goals of an organisation, that there’s no need to keep focus on doing things right.

* For those interested, the Radler case is far from over. DB are simply prolonging things as long as possible by taking issue with every legal point involved. It’s like one of those parliament TV sessions where nobody gets to say anything over the constant points of order. Realistic timeframe for an update: August. We at SOBA are very optimistic about the outcome.

House, the brainchild of the prolific bar running team known as the Phoenix Group, is on a mission to show that if Wellington can have the amazing Malthouse, Christchurch can have Pomeroys, and even Aucklanders can be lured away from their carefully branded and oh-so-casually-displayed green bottles, then Hamiltonians must be up for a few decent beers. We are, after all, the City of the Future.

Having been involved in helping out with some of the craft beer selection and general beery advice, I was fortunate enough to be invited to the VIP opening last Friday (19/3/2010). What an opening it was. We were greeted at the gate with a glass of the House ale – Mighty Golden Ale, a 4% quaffer brewed by Paul Croucher especially for the bar. It’s a great drop, very accessible for those with no previous exposure to craft beer, but with more than enough zesty tropical flavour to keep the most demanding of craft beer lovers happy.

Stepping inside, and approaching the bar feels like happiness distilled. A glance along the beautiful chrome taps, labelled with an ingenious divided chalkboard system, reveals an excellent selection of some of the best beers NZ has to offer. At the time of opening, there is: Invercargill Pitch Black, Emerson’s Pilsner, Emerson’s Bookbinder, Epic Pale Ale, Croucher Hef, Croucher Pale Ale, and Mighty Golden Ale. This lineup will change and settle over time, and there are some mainstream beers nestled amongst them to placate the less adventurous. Next up should be the ever flavoursome Three Boys IPA, and hopefully something tasty from Tuatara in the near future.

The fridge is well stocked also, with offerings from Wanaka, Renaissance, Emerson’s, Mussel Inn, Invercargill, and Epic with more to follow.

On to the place itself. It’s called House and it really does feel like home. From the white picket fence out the front to the family photos on the wall, the 70′s Kiwi Family Home theme is done really well. All the little touches never seem cheesy, but often elicit an “awwww” of reminiscence or even a chuckle of sheer delight at old familiar carpet patterns, or the upholstery on some of the comfy chairs. Set against this retro backdrop are touches of the sleek and modern – the aforementioned bar fonts, a beautiful fresh hop display on the rear wall, and pint glasses filled with aromatic NZ hops adorning the tables.

The staff are a delight as well. I hosted a bit of a beer education presentation for them on the Tuesday before they opened. I was met with a sea of keen though slightly nervous looking faces. They quickly warmed up to the subject though (as often happens when beer is involved) and began to show some serious interest. They were soon picking flavours and aromas like pros, and asked some very intelligent questions. At the opening, they’d clearly absorbed the passion for craft beer and were talking about beer and food matches with the various patrons like seasoned gourmets. They are also the friendliest bunch you’ll ever find, greeting people by name, and chatting pleasantly while they pour your pint.

A note on the pints though… even though pint glasses are provided (and look great branded with the clever “picket fence” House logo), don’t expect a complete fill. The price points have been worked out based on a 500ml measure, which can make your glass look a little like the tide has gone out, even with a generous head on the pour. This shouldn’t be a problem if the customers are aware of it from the beginning, but I can see it already causing some issues, with some punters asking for a top up. The owners are aware of the issue, and will solve it in their usual creative fashion, I’m sure!

So there you go. Not a hooker or a hog in sight, just the best damn House that House can be. I’ll see you there for a pint.