In session...with Ben McFarland
At a rough guess, I'd say you probably know its strength, possibly where it's made and, most importantly, what it tastes like and whether you like it.
Now do the same with your house wine. Chances are you know the style, the year, whether it was a good year, the inside leg measurement and beret size of the Frenchman who nurtured the vines and, of course, the grape variety. Everyone is familiar with grape varieties (yet another stroke of genius by the wine marketing machine), but how many have a comparable understanding of hops - the grapes of beer? Very few, and I include myself in that.
Only the other day, faced with a bottle of Badger's First Gold, it occurred to me that I didn't know there was a hop called First Gold. That got me thinking about hops. And I realised: I don't even know what hops are. Not really. What are they? A plant? A kind of flower? The stuff that head brewers thrust in your face half-way round a brewery tour? Well, I looked it up - and guess what? They're a plant. That's not all. They're fascinating little blighters. There's loads of stuff people should know about hops. For example:
- The hop's closest relative is cannabis
- Hop vines can reach up to 20ft in height
- The latin word for hops is humulus lupulus, which means "wolf plant" because Romans said they grew wild among willow trees, like a wolf among sheep
- The slightest whiff of hops acts as an aphrodisiac for men but, bloody typically, sends ladies off to sleep like a light
- Hops can also cure earache, (should you be a fool and wake your good lady up for some hanky-panky)
- Best of all, the first person to write about hops was a 12th century German nun who is also credited with the first written description of the female orgasm. (Proof, if ever, that all the best journalists write from a position of ignorance).
All of this begs a further question: why on earth does the brewing industry not make more of this in their marketing? You only have to look at the way the Aussies used grape varieties to help drinkers understand and appreciate their wines better in the 1980s. By emblazoning words like chardonnay, sauvignon blanc and merlot across the bottle, it enlightened us as to why we liked a particular wine. The same can be done with beer.
As it stands, the lexicon of a beer drinker is pitiful. People describe beer as "hoppy", but what does that mean? Would you ever describe a wine as "grapey"? I think not. OK, so hops don't deliver all the flavour, but it's as good a starting point as barley, water or yeast. By using hop styles as a way of distinguishing how a beer may taste or smell, the beer industry can arm drinkers and the trade with the language and knowledge to talk about beer more astutely.
What's more, by focusing on hops and not yeast, we can move away from the tedious battle, laboriously waged by beer bores, between ale and lager. So, listen up all you marketing folk and publican people, whether it's on bottle labels or pump clips, why not highlight the delights of the hop and the flavours it bestows upon your beer? To get the ball rolling, here's a bluffer's guide to some of the more common hops out there:
FUGGLES
England's most famous hop. Borne out of Kent in 1875, what Fuggles lacks in bitterness it makes up for in earthy oomph. Fuggles gives balance, depth and subtlety of flavour to a beer. It is smokey and grassy, like the smell emanating from the changing room of a rather poor Sunday league football team
Grape equivalent: Rhone Syrah
Fuggles personified: Jackie Charlton
Beer: Fuller's London Porter or Freeminer Deep Shaft Stout.
GOLDINGS
Goldings is a delicate fellow in need of tender, loving care. He doesn't like getting wet or cold and would probably get bullied at school. However, brimming with youthful fruity lemon/ orange zest and sweet citrus aromas, he's often a hit with the ladies and can be found chilling in sprightly, summer brews.
Grape equivalent: Chablis
Goldings personified: James Blunt
Beer: Hop Back Summer Lightning or Hogs Back T.E.A.
CHALLENGER
Bringing both bitterness and flavour to the party, the Challenger is a brewer's best buddy. A dual-purpose two-for-the-price-of-one hop. Imagine a St Clements with a dash of Tabasco and a wedge of lime and you're on the right track - sort of.
Wine equivalent: New Zealand sauvignon blanc
Challenger personified: Ant and Dec
Beer: Coniston Bluebird
FIRST GOLD
Like the bigger and stockier brother of Goldings, First Gold grows smaller but packs a hearty punch. With flavours of mince pies, apricot, figs and prunes, First Gold keeps quintessentially English beers "regular" and adds bitterness and spice.
Wine equivalent: Viognier from the Rhone
First Gold personified: Ray Winstone
Beer: The aptly named First Gold is 100 per cent First Gold, as is Broadside from Adnams
Ben was awarded the title of Beer Writer of the year for 2004 by the British Guild of Beer Writers.
