10 beers of the summer

Everyone does top-10s and I’m no exception, so with 1/12^th of 2012 behind us, here’s my 10 beers of the Kiwi summer to date.

Tuatara APA

The highlight of the summer. Bursting with tropical fruit hops, this is the Kiwi cousin of Tuatara's ephemeral American Pale Ale, but made with New Zealand hops instead of American varieties, which proved too hard to get because of a US shortage. The relatively new Wai-iti hop strain adds a softer, sweeter citrus flavour than you find in many American pale ales  with more mandarin than grapefruit  which gives the punch-bowl flavour a tangy subtlety. It makes you feel like filling the swimming pool with beer and diving in.

Mussel Inn Captain Cooker

From this extraordinary brew pub in the middle of nowhere comes the definitive New Zealand beer. It tweaks the recipe that Captain Cook used  Leg 1 when he brewed the first beer in New Zealand, using tree bark and leaves from rimu and manuka, at Dusky Sound in 1773. The modern Captain Cooker uses manuka flowers, which give a beautiful turkish delight twist. It's an incredible beer.

Pink Elephant Mammoth

Blenheim brewer Roger Pink is a cult figure in the New Zealand brewing scene, making eccentric beers to match his quirky personality. Mammoth is a perfect holiday treat. It's got Christmas-cake aromas of dried fruit and nuts, but with a fragrant earthy sourness hiding behind a caramel malt curtain. I had mine with some leftover cold ham that had been glazed with my home-brewed old ale and marmalade.

Epic Larger

No it's not a typo. It's a lager, but a larger lager. In fact, it's an imperial lager, in the sense that imperial just means bigger. The higher alcohol level (8.5 per cent  be warned one 500ml bottle is 3.4 standard drinks) makes it an ideal food match. I had one with an array of Mexican barbecue food and it was a perfect match, strong enough to compete with the spice, yet still offer a change of pace on your palate.

Three Boys Golden Ale

Deirdre loves Ralph Bungard's summery Golden Ale, so every time she saw me pulling a distinctive Three Boys bottle out of the fridge, she would ask: ``Is that one of mine?'' I managed to sneak the odd glass for myself and what a lovely butterfly of a beer. Light and bright with gently fluttering floral hop aromas, it's a perfect summer drop.

Invercargill Smokin Bishop

Smoked beers were all the rage last year, and this is the best of them. This is what beer could have tasted like centuries ago when the only way to dry malt was over an open fire. The smoke is neither overpowering nor subtle. It's perfectly pitched and a stunning example of a classic style.

Epic Coffee and Fig Oatmeal Stout

Yep, those guys from Epic, again  this time with the commercial realisation of a brew they made with Victoria Wells from Dish magazine for the media contest at Beervana (where they trounced my Hop Off The Press collaboration with Emerson's). I shared this on New Year's Eve with some friends because you couldn't drink a whole 750ml bottle of this (well, you could, but it wouldn't be that sociable). Up front, there's chocolate-coated coffee bean that is softened by the oatmeal. It has the texture of sleek black cat.

Yeastie Boys Digital IPA

Yeastie Boys has decided this is an open-source beer and has put the recipe online for home brewers to try to replicate. I'll be giving it a go just because it's worth having many, many bottles of this citrus and tropical fruit  explosion. You could hop, skip and jump your way through three or four of these in no time flat.

Harrington's Anvil Dry Hop

Harrington's are starting to do more high-end, higher-alcohol brews and this is a fine example of their premium craft styles. A strong New Zealand pilsner, it is juicy and full-bodied, but splashed through with summery cut-grass aromas. It's refreshing and drinkable in the extreme.

Stoke Biscuit Lager

Another in the Stoke “Bomber” line, this lives up to its name with a chewy toffee character that reminds you of mum's baking. The hoppiness provides the icing on the cake.

Turning tortoises into hares

Rory Sabbatini got a bad rap a few years back when he left Ben Crane in his fuming wake because Crane was moving with the speed of sleepy sloth.

And slow play in golf came to the fore the other week when Jonathan Byrd did anything but fly around the course in the final round of a PGA Tour's opening event.
http://www.montrealgazette.com/sports/Slow+play+killing+golf+game/5974978/story.html

But slow golf amongst the pros is one thing - it's slow golf on your local course that can do your head in and create Sabbatini-esque explosions which include deliberately hitting up on the group ahead, yelling abuse and generally getting so wound up your round turns to custard.

I recently watched a group spend at least 10 minutes looking for a lost ball out of bounds before one of the group ran back to the tee to play a third shot. The net result: two furious groups backed up on the fourth tee.

I've always maintained amateurs need to play by different rules to pros and this was a case in point. If you can't find your ball out of bounds, just play it like a lateral hazard, take a drop and get on with it.

Everyone rabbits on about golf being gentleman's game and how honouring the rules and self-regulation are critical to its integrity. Bollocks (unless you're playing for money or a trophy). If golf is going to continue to attract new players in the 21st century it needs to battle a far greater enemy - lack of time.

Unless you're retired, you're probably time poor and I for one don't want to spend over four and a half hours playing 18 holes when I know I could get round in a threesome in less than three and a half hours if there was no wannbe PhilMickleson in front of us.

You can't do much about idiots who phaff around over three-foot putts and take 20 practice swings but you can make your own round go faster by taking a more relaxed approach to the restrictive rules of golf.

I've always maintained all amateurs should be allowed to place the ball to avoid hitting out of someone's divot, or from an unraked footprint in the bunker - the game is hard enough without having your round ruined by someone else's selfishness and laziness. If an 18-handicapper moves the ball a few feet what does it matter? It will hardly alter the score and can make things run more smoothly and stress-free.

So imagine how rapt I was to see the venerable Golf Digest website echo my thoughts. Because they have much better technology than me, I'll let them take up the story.

http://www.golfdigest.com/golf-instruction/2011-10/photos-reasonable-rules

So next time you're out playing, go easy on yourself and have fun - after all the game is not meant to turn you into a mental wreck.

A Crafty XV

I would have loved to call this team the Thirst XV but the clever Kelly Ryan at Epic Brewery has already claimed that name for his fantasy team of Kiwi brewers, so I'm going with Crafty Buggers, a team of taste and style.

Tighthead prop: Substance is the key. Three Boys Oyster Stout, brewed with real bluff oysters, is smooth and silky with a hint of brine and a touch of smoke.

Hooker:In the Sean Fitzpatrick mode, rugged, uncompromising, with a never-say-die attitude is Twisted Hop's Red Zone Enigma. This barley wine, with its overtures of cherry and vanilla, has survived the Canterbury earthquake which destroyed Martin Bennett's brewery.

Loosehead prop: Emerson's Bookbinder  solid, dependable, no-fuss English bitter, beautifully balanced, well capable of holding its own in any clash.

Locks: Harrington's Big John Special Reserve is the Brad Thorn of New Zealand craft brews. Conditioned in bourbon-laced oak barrels it has the oomph you want. His partner is 8-wired's Tally Poppy, a crazy alignment of an Irish Red Ale and a hop-driven American IPA.

Blindside flanker: Jerome Kaino is the model here; a great defender, but with go-forward on attack and a range of skills including the responsibility for taking kick-offs. So joining his 8-wired clubmate in the pack is iStout and its robust, complex dance of flavours.

Openside flanker: Is there a Richie  McCaw of beers? An everyman with the requisite humility, rugged charm and daring talent? It has to be Mash Up, the collaborative effort of nearly all our craft brewers   a hoppy New Zealand-style Pale Ale that represents the best parts of our craft industry.

No 8: You can't beat size and experience in the back row, so it was a no-brainer to include Pink Elephant Brewery's cult beer Mammoth, an English brown ale with layers of coffee, chocolate and licorice.

Halfback: Aussie battler George Gregan is the epitome of what you want in a halfback  clever, cheeky, daring, skilful with a polarising personality. Step up, please, the beer that thinks it's a whisky  Rex Attitude, Yeastie Boys' creation made from 100% peated malt.

First five:A confident, smart performer with vision, experience and an ability to lead others. Dependability and class are the keys  Emeron's Pilsner.

Second five: The crash-bang-wallop style of Ma'a Nonu means there's only one brewery in contention for producing the line-breaker we need in the midfield  Epic. Hop Zombie implies staggering in a straight line, but the taste is all about footwork, distribution and creativity, with 8.5% alcohol for punch.

Centre: Elegance and balance in the form of Tuatara APA  whether it be the American Pale Ale, or its upcoming replacement Aotearoa Pale Ale, which uses New Zealand hops instead of the hard-to-get American hops.

Wings: Using Sonny Bill Williams as a model, there's only one newcomer with the requisite hype to call itself the SBW of brewing, Moa. With a tonne of marketing and fanfare but with substance to match, The Blenheim brewery has to be represented by their Olympic-sponsoring St Joseph Tripel. On the other side of the field we want a Cory Jane-style figure  lippy, super agile, refreshingly daring; so I'm opting for one of my personal favourites, Hallertau Luxe (No 1).

Fullback:Israel Dagg, as the more footloose version of John Gallagher, is beer-ified by Invercargill Brewery's light-on-its-feet B-Man. Snappy bright and modern and because it's designed to hold its own with a curry, it can do the same on the field.

Note: Just like the All Blacks, there were a couple of notable contenders unavailable for selection: We couldn't go into a world cup with a goalkicker called Harrington's Wobbly Boot. Also out injured are Twisted Hop's Twisted Ankle and Liberty Brewing's Debilitated Defender!

Hankook's High-Tech Golf Ball-Inspired Tyre | Stuff.co.nz

Hankook's High-Tech Golf Ball-Inspired Tyre | Stuff.co.nz:

'via Blog this'

Hop on the bandwagon

I love chilli. The more heat the better but sometimes it gets away on me when I'm cooking and my wife gives me the evil eye over my too-spicy curry. To stop me over-heating things she made labels for the jars containing chilli: ``Use with caution dickhead.'' (She loves me, honest.)

There are a few brewers out there whose partners could be forgiven for putting similar labels on their hop supplies.

Right now there's a beer-nerd debate bubbling along about hops. Or, how much is too much.

Not everyone loves hops in beer. Too much hop-bitterness makes it  feel like your tongue has been taken out of your mouth and wrung out to dry. Too little and you may as well drink Horlicks.

The backlash against hoppiness is nothing new and has been happening in the United States for a few years as contrarians rail against a craft industry obsessed with hops. But it reached mainstream media here when beer writer Don Kavanagh  said too many brewers were guilty of amplifying hop levels so that beer becomes undrinkable. ``Attention-grabbing nonsense'' he called it. To me, complaining that over-hoppiness is attention-grabbing  nonsense  is attention-grabbing nonsense in its own right. It's pretty hard to take the moral high ground about what tastes nice.

If a brewer wants to pack in hops like a shopaholic in Milan, then so be it. It's their money they're investing and I don't think many brewers are prepared to flush away their hard-earned cash just to make an attention-grabbing statement. Generally they make these beers because people want to drink them. If no one wanted them, they'd go out of business pretty fast.

The other thing is, you have a choice. You don't have to drink an Epic Hop Zombie if you don't want to. Consumers can think for themselves. If you want a bland international lager, then you should go to as many Rugby World Cup games as you want.

It's like reality TV. You might hate My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding but  plenty of people watch it, so what can you do?

For the record, I love hops. They're up there with chilli. And the aforementioned Hop Zombie is an amazing example of how you can use them to make something remarkable.

The aroma of Luke Nicholas's creation is like being in an elevator full of women wearing different perfumes, yet the overall effect is something coherent. There's cut grass, lime, passionfruit, guava  …  like  eating fruit salad on a  lawn  in summer.

And behind the aroma comes a hard-kicking 8.5% of alcohol to give a sweetness which balances out the oily hop bitterness. It's balanced: like two fat men on a see-saw. And yet it's light, crisp and highly drinkable.

But sadly, there's not much of it around. As Epic tweeted this month:  ``If you see a @Hop_Zombie grab it! (due to another US hop shortage we can't get the hops we need, next invasion not likely till Jan 2013).''

I got my last batch at Glenngarry in Dominion Rd, Auckland. Some New World supermarkets and Liquorland outlets might have some but be quick.

It's the attitude that counts

Wellington's annual Beervana event this month emphasised what a creative bunch of brewers we have in New Zealand.

Just as a controversial artwork can attract and repel in equal doses, so it is in the beer world. What one person quaffs down, another spits out. This is the brilliance of the craft brew scene - there's something for everyone and much of it is so far from the mainstream as to be called radical.

Take Yeastie Boys. The Wellington- based brewery gets its stuff made under contract by the Invercargill Brewery. Effectively they are experimental home brewers who find a recipe they think will work and get it made in bulk.

Or sometimes they get an idea they know might not work but will get people talking. And so we have Rex Attitude: not so much a beer as an experience.

Their spiel is that the beer is made with 100% peat-smoked malt when no one is prepared to add more than 5% smoked malt. As a result, Rex Attitude bears more resemblance to a Laphroaig whisky than Lion Red.

The first whiff is campfire meets medicinal and the first taste sends confusing messages to your tastebuds. Could it actually be whisky diluted with beer?

For many people, that's where the Rex Attitude experience ends . . . with a scrunched-up face and a wrinkled nose. For others, it's a revelation and they can't get enough. By their own admission, Yeastie Boys say nine out of 10 Kiwis don't like it. For once in my life I'm swimming with the mainstream . . . I don't like it. But I can see why you would and I appreciate the out- there-ness of it.

The other highlight of Beervana was being part of the media competition where various journalists were paired with top brewers to come up with a collaborative brew.

My effort with Richard Emerson in Dunedin scored 30 out of 45 points which left us midfield with a number of other beers.

Our brew was too bitter, mainly because Richard kindly agreed to make a recipe I'd conjured up myself. Turns out all the errors I made at home probably disguised an underlying fault which was glaringly exposed when Richard applied his highly efficient processes. It was a great lesson in the art and science of brewing and I'm grateful to have worked with a genius like Richard.

There were two stand-out beers in the media competition. Luke Nicholas of Epic and Victoria Wells of Dish magazine created a coffee-fig stout which easily won over the judges with 41 points, while Yeastie Boys (yes, them again) teamed up with Simon Morton from Radio New Zealand to create a beer and a political statement with Riddler, an Anti-Shandy.

Their entry took the mickey out of the decision by the intellectual property office (IPONZ) to allow Dominion Breweries to trademark the term Radler (as in Monteith's Radler Bier). Radler is a beer style that has been around for decades and comes from a Flemish word for cyclist. It's all to do with a long story about bike racing and a hot summer's day and beer being watered down with lemonade.

Radler is widely accepted as a beer style, but because it's little used in New Zealand, IPONZ granted the trademark.

So Morton and those radical Wellington brewers came up with their version of a shandy: stout laced with Moet. It's creative and smart - just like our craft brewing industry (and journalists!).

Why Steve Williams is a dick

I promised a couple of people on Twitter that I'd one-day deliver my long-winded account of why Steve Williams is a dick. And it's all to do with Phil Mickelson being a ``prick''.
If you recall, in December 2008, Williams was home in New Zealand and at a speaking engagement in Taranaki made the comment: ``I wouldn't call Mickelson a great player 'cause I hate the prick.''
The story went up on the website on the Taranaki Daily News on Friday night where it was spotted by Laurence Donegan at The Guardian, who gave the story a global spin.
Back then I was sports editor at the Sunday Star-Times and we decided to follow the story on the Saturday morning.
Our reporter rang Williams and asked straight up whether he'd been reported accurately and had he used the word ``prick'',  William said yes and then embellished the answer.
``I visit a lot of golf clubs and do a lot of speaking for charity and that is one of the questions I get asked the most: what is Tiger's relationship like with Phil Mickleson?
``I was simply honest and said they don't get a long. You know what it's like. You're at a charity event and you have a bit of fun.
``I don't particularly like the guy (Mickelson) myself. He pays me no respect at all and hence I don't pay him any respect. It's no secret we don't get along either.''
All well and good. Great splash for us and the story goes global.
It lands Williams in a massive pot of boiling water with his then boss Tiger Woods, who had a lot of bridge-building to do with Mickelson.
There was lots of humble-pie eating on the part of the bag-carrier and Williams was pilloried across the world.
Fast forward to the end of 2009 and it's another Saturday morning drama as Woods is reported to have been badly injured in a car accident outside his Florida mansion.
We're scrambling for details so I ring Williams to find out what he knows.
``I'm not talking to the Sunday Star-Times and you know why,'' he says.
Williams then tears strips off me, saying as sports editor I should never have allowed the ``prick'' story to run, that I was irresponsible and should have been mindful of protecting his reputation by censoring the whole thing.
Well, last time I looked I wasn't Steve Williams' minder.
And we gave him every chance to talk down the story. He could have chosen a number of reactions. He could lashed out at the Daily News for running with his initial comment, saying it was made at a private function. He could have acknowledged he said it but then apologised to Mickelson.
But instead he chose to repeat the whole thing to a national newspaper and then further inflame the episode by dropping Tiger into the poop with him.
To have a crack at me 12 months later for failing to get him out of stink of his own creation is just ludicrous.
And that's why I think he's dick.