It was a meant as a funny one-liner in a tweet but for me it pretty much sums up the status of Britishness in beer these days.
I was describing the list of outrageous ingredients in an upcoming BrewDog Abstrakt beer which includes (among other things) heather honey, wild raspberries and oats and as I rounded off my description I mentioned that a mountain of Fuggles hops had been added to the kettle.
And it is was this last point that triggered the tweet from a reader that headlines this post.
For an seemingly increasing number of beer enthusiasts traditional British hops like Fuggles and East Kent Goldings simply don’t cut it any more in a craft beer scene fuelled by alpha acids where bigger is apparently better.

Don't get me wrong. Dark Lord Russian Imperial Stout is magnificent. But you can't really drink a pint of it can you.
You only have to check out the world’s top 50 highest rated beers to see that 34 of them have the word Imperial in their name (which means they’re packing more punch than a young Mike Tyson) and the others are no lightweights either, with 3 Belgium Quadruples, 4 sour ales and a bourbon cask aged wheat trippelbock among their numbers.
Let’s really thrust the knife into the side of the British beer industry by mentioning that of the 90 beers featured in the 18 categories of Ratebeer’s ‘Best Beers By Style 2011′ not a single one of them emanated from the British Isles.
I’ll twist the knife by pointing out that of the top five beers in the ‘English Style & Pale’ category four of them came from the USA and the last one from Italy. An actual English beer (not just a beer styled on one) was light years away from winning and the unavoidable truth is that a beer that embodies the flavours, characteristics and drinkability of British beer is never going to feature in Ratebeer’s top ten. Ever.
It seems right now British beer is about as cool as listening to Beethoven while everyone else is chilling out to Robyn. If British beer ever was hip it seems in urgent need of a replacement in a modern beer culture desensitised to subtlety.
I’ve lost count on beer chat sites like BeerSweden Forum of the times people have referred to British beers as being ‘thin’ and ‘boring’. Comments like: ”It’s very British in its style and that can’t be good right?!” (referring to Djävlebryg OrginAle DIPA) are sadly not uncommon.
Tempted as I am to go on and on about how the British brewing culture (along with that of other major brewing nations like the Czech Republic, Germany and Belgium) built the stage on which American and US-style beers are currently strutting around on, I won’t, as it might be interpreted as a cry for help for a beer culture that I honestly don’t feel needs saving.
Two beers I’ve drunk in just the past few days have left me totally convinced British beers and British styles of beers still deserve their corner in today’s ‘craft beer’ landscape.
The first beer I had in a small basement pub in the shadows of Edinburgh Castle. After two crazy days drinking high octane beers, some of which came out of the mouths of dead animals and nearly all of which were were hopped to the brink, dragged back and then hopped again we fell into the pub looking for an honest pint of session ale.
We desperately wanted a beer we didn’t have to analyse, tick, sip or debate. A beer we could simply drink, in huge, satisfying gulps from an old-fashioned pint glass. We found it in a pale ale whose name I don’t even recall and which doesn’t really matter anyway. It had the unmistakably earthy, pithy flavour of British ale, was under 5% ABV and didn’t contain a single hint of tropical fruit or pine needles. A lot of people might accuse it of tasting thin but I’d rather call it balanced and utterly drinkable. It took less than a couple of minutes to drain the glass and I enjoyed every single bloody moment of it. In a trip that overflowed with fantastic beers the memory of this unknown, simple pint stays with me.
The second beer is actually Swedish but embodies a lot of what I love about British beer. Dugges Höstbrygd Contemplative Ale is an English style brown ale of a modest 5% ABV that really does capture the flavours of autumn, with an appetising aroma of chestnuts, earthy brown leaves and chocolate and a wonderfully smooth taste that starts with blackcurrants and finishes with dry roasted coffee, is discretely bitter and most importantly leaves you wanting more.
These beers, and hundreds more like them, don’t rely on booze, cask ageing, exotic fruits or hype to get our attention. They’re just balanced, well crafted drinking beers.
You can call me old fashioned if you want to but what the Fuggles – that sounds pretty great to me!









