The Session

The Session #145: The Nuances of Critique in a Small Market

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A pint inside The Cat & Cage - a pub that genuinely works to showcase indie brewersAnother entry for The Session – this time, Matthew Curtis has set an interesting challenge for #145.

Ireland is, in a word, small. The craft beer industry here is, unsurprisingly, also not large, and because of the size of the market, it is even more difficult for smaller producers to get tap space at most pubs and bars, or in typical off-licenses, corner shops and supermarkets. But while there are opportunities for independent brewers to get onto some supermarket shelves through initiatives like SuperValu’s Food Academy – something that doesn’t come with the ‘selling out’ baggage that seems to accompany wider availability in larger markets like the UK – it can be tough for those brewers to break into the larger public consciousness. Diageo and Heineken’s marketing budgets are orders of magnitude larger, and when ‘a pint’ in a pub means the same beer to most people, it’s a big mountain to climb.

The careful reader will notice that there are some breweries and venues I rarely, if ever, mention, and there’s probably a good reason for that; certain omissions are very much intentional. And I’ve absolutely told some producers directly if I’ve had an issue with a batch or found a particular venue whose taplines seemed muddy; people have appreciated the direct, if offline, communication to improve their product. And there’s also bit of judgement involved there; the larger (though really, still small) brewers have QA setups and actively want to know these things, while some of the smaller outfits may need that kind of news broken more gently – but no one wants to have a bad product out there. And credit where it’s due – you’re not going to get a ‘bad’ Guinness or Carlsberg in 99% of venues (and to be clear, I like Guinness and Carlsberg – but I don’t want them to be the only choices). Huge global brewers of their sort are often much more stable employers, because they can afford to be, and both do amazing things with their corporate history and archives; these are very positive things.

Inside The Hut - yes, Guinness is good thereAnd so when it comes to offering constructive critiques of the industry, especially as a blow-in, it’s something I personally tend to do at more of a macro level, in one very specific area: the availability (or lack thereof) of independent Irish beer offerings in pubs and bars. Places that formerly had a more diverse lineup are very much in my line of fire, and it’s not only because it’s not great for the broader brewing community, it’s terrible for the consumer. The lack of imagination around what punters might enjoy took some time for me to get used to, having previously lived in the US and UK, where there would usually be at least a token local craft beer on in most bars and restaurants, if not a much more impressive lineup beyond that. And yes, tourists are all convinced that there’s a ‘best’ pint of Guinness to be found here; as an initial revenue-generation point, have at it. I’ll absolutely allow the ‘Guinness tastes better in Ireland’ purely from a ‘clean taplines and great atmosphere’ perspective, but many visitors want to sample other ‘local’ products, and all too often, there isn’t anything else. It’s a missed opportunity. And, as such, it deserves to be called out. For example, replacing a wider array of brewers and styles with some not-terribly-well-executed nor well-priced ‘house beers’ ain’t it. House beers you’ll continue to tweak and have as part of a broader lineup? Sure, go for it.

Ballykilcavan at Ballykilcavan - one of a number that deserve to be better-knownIn summary, I believe the Irish beer industry is just about at the point where it’s mature enough to handle more robust public critiques aimed at improving the overall product…almost. While the crew of independent producers and distributors is so small that it’s easy to meet and get to know nearly everyone relatively quickly, it takes a lot longer to build up credibility and to earn trust, especially as an outsider. There’s also something here about not quite staying in your lane, but knowing when and where to share certain opinions. John and Liam can be entirely candid on their respective blogs because they’ve been doing amazing work for years. And, to a certain extent, we’ve all specialised a bit – I’ve got the pubs thing going, John’s doing amazing reviews and commentary, and Liam’s stellar Irish beer history work is, well, just that. And we are so fortunate to have writers like Ali Dunworth covering Irish food and drink in books and magazines, and, of course, my fellow Beer Lady* Christina Wade kicking ass and taking names in the beer history book department. As they drive broader normal-person public awareness, we’ll (eventually) be at that point where Irish beer criticism is as natural and welcomed as restaurant criticism. There will be positives, negatives and, most likely, a fair few ‘mids’ out there, but it will be a sign of growth overall; I’m looking forward to a few rather glorious tasting notes all across that spectrum getting out of private group chats (no, really) and into the wider world.

*We’ll be back with new Beer Ladies Podcast episodes soon! We’ve, uh, all had a lot on. And it is worth noting that we are a lot more vocal about certain trends or issues on the podcast…strength in numbers, or something along those lines…

The Session #144: A Welcome Return

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Ballykilcavan Bambrick's Brown and artThe Session is back! I missed its most recent return last month (I blame holidays) and nearly missed it again (general life stuff), but managed find a brief window to put something together. The question posed is quite a simple one, and thanks to Ray & Jess for the prompt:

What’s the best beer you can drink at home right now?

And while the answer to the question itself is going to be quite straightforward, the context for drinking-at-home is a little more complex than it might sound, at least, in my interpretation. You see, I have a practically-pathological avoidance of ‘going out on Friday.’ On one hand this is because I AM TIRED by Friday afternoon, even during the most perfectly productive and easily-planned week possible. On the other hand, I believe that I have been thoroughly conditioned into this sort of schedule: back in the 1990s, that’s when all the good telly was on. The Fast Show, Shooting Stars, Never Mind the Buzzcocks, Father Ted, Eurotrash and more were Friday night staples (only season two of Fortean TV made the Friday night schedule, as I’m sure my fellow weirdos recall); going out seemed like a waste in a pre-on demand era. If you missed these shows, what might you have to talk about in the pub when you did go out? And so, as someone whose ‘going out’ patterns were built and hardened as a postgrad in the UK during that time period…well, Friday night has always been Pizza Night.

Filthy Queens by the charming and erudite Christina Wade and Rascals SidekickThese days, it’s…well, not rather more sedate, since it was largely that way to begin with, but it does involve better pizza and more child-friendly programming (or did, until said children got ‘old’ themselves and/or bored with our viewing choices – I have no regrets about saving The Great Pottery Throw-down or other life-affirming programming for this use case every week). When Friday rolls around, we order pizza and have a few beers. I always like to have at least one Irish beer to kick off the evening, and then I may have a more ‘exotic’ follow-up, but I have the following in constant Friday night rotation:

1) Ballykilcavan Bambrick’s Brown Ale, 5.8% – probably the most perfect ‘all-weather’ Irish beer; goes with nearly everything, and great to pair with dessert, too, if I remembered to pick some up. It’s also a great ‘at home’ beer as it’s rarely on tap anywhere around Dublin…but there are a few sneaky cans at Juno, just a short walk away. If you haven’t visited the gorgeous farm, well – do make it a priority if you’re in or visiting Ireland. Say hi to Cleo; she’s a proper doggy celebrity now.
An adorable kitty helps unpack a can of Hope Bitter2) Rascals Sidekick IPA, 5.3% – gather around, children, and you’ll hear the tale of how IPAs used to be clear and bitter, but with a nice malty heft to them. Relive that experience at home, with this wonderfully balanced beer – pour it from the can into a glass, hold it up to the light and look through! While this does appear on tap at Rascals itself as part of their regular lineup now, it’s not flip-flops distance like Juno; I love it on tap, but it’s a must-have for a relaxed Friday night at home.
3) Hope Limited Edition 34 ESB, 5.9% – yes, I understand the meaning of ‘limited edition,’ but I also live in hope (see what I did there?) that it may make regular re-appearances, and I’ve stocked up for the near term. It’s another goes-with-everything beer, and seems universally praised by those who have tried it – it’s not just me.

With some sort of must-do, scheduled event most other nights of the week, Pizza Night every Friday is a much-needed time to unwind and do a bit of semi-intentional carbo-loading before Parkrun on Saturday and whatever long-distance training is in the books for Sunday. Having the opportunity to support some fantastic independent Irish breweries from the comfort of your own couch is a great bonus.

Everything pairs well with loungewear.

The Session: Where Are We?

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We had to make our own entertainment in those daysIt’s a fair question.

Even if we weren’t in the midst of a global pandemic (and, beyond the obvious, the archivist/historian in me gets both very excited about the level of documentation of this ‘experience,’ as well horrified the thought of what it means for digital preservation librarians of the near-future), it’s probably time for a blog update. My new job and our new country were meant to be an opportunity to have a bit more free time (HAHAHAHAHA/please come work for me) as well as the ability to spend more time together as a family than Planet Amazon allowed, but hey, at least we managed one of those things, albeit without furniture. Let’s back up – but I promise, we’ll get to the beer.

We arrived in Dublin from Seattle at the end of January; the plan was to spend about 6-8 weeks in temporary accommodation, find a long-term rental and quickly sell our house in Seattle, then enjoy weekend trips around Ireland and the odd hop over to London for theatre. We achieved only the first and second of those milestones. We have, on the whole, been fortunate: our cats arrived with no difficulties, we found a house near schools that suited both our offspring (no small achievement when you are working with a 10-year age gap and a lack of secondary school places in Dublin), and got our first set of immigration ‘stuff’ done, all while I was flying back and forth to Basel for regular business trips. Side note – there are some good breweries in Basel – Volta Brau and Kitchen Brew – and, oddly, a very good Mexican bar/restaurant. We moved out of our (furnished) temporary accommodation into our (unfurnished) rental with the understanding that everything in our sea shipment – all our furniture, clothes, books, PELOTON, electronics – would be with us in 1-2 weeks. And it duly arrived at the port and cleared customs, and then everything shut down. We were told everything was to be moved to long-term storage with no known target date for delivery, and to ‘make do.’ Of the inflatable furniture we managed to get before the machine stopped, we’re operating at about 35% capacity…not having a sofa is not something I envisioned, but again, everyone is, so far, healthy, we are not stuck in the US, which looks horrifying right now, so…it’ll make an interesting story, down the line.

HEY LADIESWith that long preamble out of the way, on to the beer – and beer has been part of one of the biggest positives of this entire situation. I managed one rather jet-lagged in-person meetup with the Ladies Craft Beer Society of Ireland the week we arrived (I’d made a previous visit in October, when I was in town on a pre-relocation work trip, and I knew I’d found My People), and then, as Circumstances Changed, we switched to weekly Zoom meetups. Ironically, I feel like I’ve made firmer friends faster with all the physical distancing than I might have otherwise; whether it’s commiserating over Zoom with drinks or just popping in to our Discord to chat about the weather (and what we’re drinking). We’re all going through this bizarre shared experience, and I couldn’t have found a better group of fierce, beer-loving women to bond with.

And what have we been drinking?  How much? How often? I will say that the inability to go to pubs has, in an odd way, fast-tracked our discovery of the Dublin beer scene. We were able to happily wander to The Old Spot or The Merry Cobbler, I’d most likely only be trying whichever local brewery happened to be featured that week; while I did get in one run with the Mikkeller Run Club chapter here and thoroughly enjoyed hanging out at The Underdog afterward, that would be only a monthly opportunity to sample their (excellent) taplist. With the lockdown, breweries and off-licenses quickly mobilized to offer delivery, and getting a weekly mixed box from Craft Central, Martin’s Off-license and Beer Cloud has made discovering new (well, new-to-us) beers The Thing We Do At Home (it’s also been our chief solution to our lack of furniture – the boxes are very handy). I don’t think we’ve been drinking more per se, but I have had the odd after-work whiskey more often than I would under normal circumstances, though again, this may simply be down to working 12-hour days without any breaks and the availability of Really Good Local Whiskey and/or Gin.

I already have some favo(u)rite local beers: Hope Beer’s Handsome Jack IPA, Pass If You Can Pale Ale and Hop-On Session Ale are all wonderful, and Ballykilcavan’s Bambrick’s Brown is delightful. Eight Degrees Hill of the Serpent is one of the best Black IPAs around, and Mescan’s Belgian-inspired beers have really impressed. I’m trying the new mild (NEW MILD JOY) from Four Provinces tonight…for people who can’t leave the house, we’re spoiled for choice.

While I can’t wait to see everyone in person over a fresh pint in a pub, we’re firmly in the ‘can’t complain too much’ category; let’s hope it stays that way.

Yards Brawler: An Appreciation

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With the Hammer O'Glory, in Philly, long ago

It’s hard now to cast my mind back and recall when I first became aware of The Session; it was relatively early in my beer blogging ‘career’ that much is certain – beyond that, seven years ago? Perhaps eight or nine? I do know that back then, I had considerably more time on my hands: one child fewer, a non-Amazon job and a longish train commute, all of which meant that I could write more about beer. Even then, I only participated intermittently, but always enjoyed reading the other entries. As The Session ends its run today, I opted for the ‘One More for the Road’ choice – a blog post about a beer I love, but one that nowadays I only get to see in the rear-view mirror: Yards Brawler.

In the nine years we lived in the Philly area, a Yards variety back was always on hand as a go-to –  even as the offerings, both local and from far away, became more exotic, we always kept that around for our Friday night pizza-and-beer ritual. When Brawler debuted (or, perhaps more accurately, re-emerged) in 2008, it quickly became a favorite – a flavorful, dark mild perfect for everything from tailgating before soccer with our fellow Sons of Ben to enjoying with a fancy meal at one of the endless variety of great Philly restaurants that understand having a top-notch beer list is key. Even though it was widely available - certainly not a white whale by any description, it was always one of my must-have beers at the annual Yards Real Ale Festival hosted at the brewery; it’s even more wonderful on cask.

When the call came out of the blue from The Major Online Retailer Mentioned Above to uproot everyone and relocate to the other coast, I thought that certainly I’d miss some local beers, but that we’d be back relatively often to visit, and that surely, something would fill the same gap in Seattle; it turns out I was quite wrong. In the three-plus years we have been here, only one or two local seasonal beers have approached Brawler for its laid-back perfection, and they are infrequently featured among the 7.5%+ (often hazy) IPAs crowding out other styles. Even when sampling other milds on trips to Britain, Brawler is my benchmark – is it as good? And now, while planning our holiday visit back to our old stomping grounds, carving out time to visit the new Yards Brewery is high on the list of priorities; the opportunity to have a fresh Brawler, steps from where it was brewed, is one that can’t be missed (and hopefully the weather cooperates).

In a US brewing landscape that has moved ever-more toward the extreme end of whatever spectrum is selling that month, Yards continues to make perfectly-crafted (mostly) English-style ales that require no strange additions or a high-octane ABV; they are very ‘Philly’ in that they embody equal parts self-assurance and lack of pretension. I wish it could still be my go-to beer here in Seattle, but it will certainly be the first and last beer I have every time we return to Philly.

While it’s only ‘until we meet again’ for Brawler, it is a good-bye to The Session – thanks to all who have organized and contributed over the years; it’s been a fantastic driver to discover new (and not so new) beer writers, and a very-useful prompt to GET SOMETHING WRITTEN when I really needed it. I’ll raise that next Brawler to all involved.

The Session 129: O Porter, Where Art Thou?

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They didn't make porter, but had a pretty building.
[Photograph: Dave Sizer on Flickr]
It’s been far too long since I’ve participated in The Session, but this month was one I couldn’t pass up – really, what beer nerd would pass up the chance to pontificate about talk missing local beer styles? Were I still a Pennsylvania resident, I’d have ample opportunity to talk about Pennsylvania Swankey in all its possible permutations, but here in Seattle, something much more familiar is (mostly) missing – porters and ‘steamed beers.’

I recently had the slightly surreal experience of re-reading an old column and only partway through realizing that I’d written it, though to be fair, it’s been a while and my smaller child is continuing an ongoing campaign of disallowing sleep in her general vicinity. But after reviewing the piece on Seattle beer history, I was struck by the mention of porter, and duly went back to my source material to see if there were more mentions of Seattle porter – and there were, albeit only for the late 19th century. And while there are a few good local porters nowadays (shoutouts to Machine House, Reuben’s Brews and Georgetown Brewing), they aren’t always easy to find on tap very much beyond the immediate neighborhood of each brewery. This is true of British styles in general, which is a bit ironic since the earliest beers in the Good Beer Revival in the Pacific Northwest were very much along those lines, especially those brewed by or under the tutelage of Bert Grant. And compared to our previous Philadelphia-area stomping grounds, there are vanishingly few beers imported from the UK to this coast; while not surprising, given the cost and potential quality concerns, there are few locals beers that fill that gap. A good bitter is hard to find (again, Machine House excepted), but mediocre IPAs are ubiquitous. That’s not to say there are not some great Seattle IPAs – Cloudburst does an amazing job – but there are so, so many that only elicit a ‘meh.’

But back to porters – I was quite envious of the recent wealth of porters around Britain mentioned by Boak and Bailey, and hope to find a good many of them still around when I’m next in London over the holidays, but I think a lot of my porter problem (kids, feel free to steal The Porter Problem for your new free-jazz combo) is the absence of Troegs Dead Reckoning Porter; to me, this is the beer that means fall has arrived. While I’d love a special coast-to-coast tap sending me Troegs (and, let’s be honest, Yards Brawler, my favorite US mild) from the source(s), I’d hoped that there would be a readily-available local equivalent; if there is, I have yet to find it. So, let this be a challenge to Seattle brewers – make your best porter! Try a few historical recipes! Feel free to make it hoppy if you must – hey, Troegs did it, and it’s wonderful.

Seattle used to be (briefly) known for porters – it would be lovely to see more of them on the local market. Now, about those equally-disappeared ‘steamed beers….’

The Session #120 – Brown Beer, At Home & Abroad

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The SessionI have long had a fondness for ‘brown’ beers of many descriptions: dark milds, schwarzbiers, porters, dunkels, and, of course, your better-than-average brown ale (either theoretically British or American – I know I should like a good Oud Bruin, but it’s just not my thing in quantity). And, once upon a time, brown ales loomed large on the beer horizon. Newcastle Brown Ale was widely available, and Pete’s Wicked Ale was the go-to American version of the style.  Cast your mind back to a differently-benighted America in the early 1990s; while there were a few interesting regional beers, nationally-available ‘microbrews’ (as we used to call them) were few and far between. If you weren’t a lager fan – and you might have over-corrected in your dislike of the macro-brewed ‘lager’ offerings to ignore Sam Adams – your options were relatively limited. Your ‘import’ choices tended to be pretty straightforward British beers: Newcastle Brown, Samuel Smith’s Oatmeal Stout and the like.  These were presumed (at least by me, in my inexperience) to be vastly superior offerings – they had color! Flavor! Exciting times.

Moving to the UK in the mid-’90s quickly taught me that while there were certainly good things about British music and television, there was just as much that was terrible as there was in the US; it was just that the worst (and some of the best) never made it abroad. This rule applied equally to beer – I discovered that ‘the good stuff’ was often simply from a local family brewery, and they didn’t always make enough to export. But I loved my go-to beers, even if they weren’t ‘fancy’ – a pint of Theakston’s Best, Brains Dark, Moorehouses’s Black Cat, Lancaster Bomber (the version from the 1990s, not the current iteration, which seems much changed). I tended to go for beers on a chestnut-to-dark-brown continuum, and while I do go for more variety today, overall, that pattern still seems to hold.

Even back in the US in the dead-end of the millennium, the Mountain View Small Brewers’ Fest featured a wide variety of copper-to-black beers of varying quality, not infrequently named after less-renowned Tolkien characters, though this is to be expected when software engineers have side projects. Shortly thereafter, the American beer scene exploded – microbrews became ‘craft beer’ and bitters, stouts and porters began to play second fiddle (or perhaps eighth oboe) to IPAs. ‘Boring’ brown beers began to disappear – milk stouts were booted for coffee stouts, and everything else on the amber-to-brown spectrum seemed to end up aging in or on oak. Fortunately, though, the pendulum for extremes seems to have shifted slightly – sure, it’s nice to have some of the more extreme stuff from time to time, but on the whole, it’s lovely to have beer that tastes like beer.

Of late, there are few things I enjoy more than a toasty, biscuity ESB or a roasty – but not too roasty – mild, but they are relatively few and far between in the Pacific Northwest; granted, we have great IPAs, but the ubiquity of great IPAs also means we are awash in mediocre ones, since nearly everyone feels they need to make one to compete for tap space, even if they aren’t particularly successful at it (and they are probably correct). There are a few local standouts that do fit the bill for this discussion, however – Lower Case Brewing’s ESB is very fine indeed, and I recently had an excellent, straight-up brown ale called Betsy’s Mountain Brown at Naked City Brewery a few neighborhoods over from ours. Perhaps because they grew out of the 1990s microbrew tradition that was more influenced by British pubs than (often wonderful) Belgian oddities, Seattle’s brewpubs tend to have a much wider variety of the sort of solidly-made, eminently quaffable ESBs, porters and stouts than many of the more buzzed-about small breweries – or maybe they simply assume a fairly large percentage of their clientele will be there for a meal with the family, and a tap list of 12% tequila-barrel-aged strong ales doesn’t suit all palates or occasions. So, with little fanfare, many are consistently turning out great coppery altbiers, dark caramel ESBs, deep ruby-brown porters and nearly-burnt-toast dunkels.

Long may they continue – and here’s hoping more of the ‘edgy’ breweries also opt to show off their skills with a few subtle brown beers.

And thanks to Joe Tindall for hosting The Session this month; I’ll be raising a glass of something coppery to you for prompting me to get back to regular-ish beer writing.

Up-and-coming Beer Destinations: Copenhagen

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Mikkeller & Friends, Copenhagen, DenmarkThis month’s Session – or, Beer Blogging Friday – asks us to identify those under-the-radar locations that are about to become the next big thing on the beer scene. This presents an ideal opportunity to finally blog about our trip to Copenhagen in 2013; yes, this blog post is nearly two years late, but better late than never, and a wider audience should be aware of the wonders of the Danish capital’s beer scene, both old and new.

When considering Copenhagen, most beer nerds immediately think of Mikkeller, and with good reason – Mikkel Borg Bjergsø’s steady march to beer omnipresence, with bars and tasting rooms from San Francisco to Bangkok, and a global distribution network that some brewers with a permanent facility can only image, has been remarkable. And their original Copenhagen locations do not disappoint: especially at Mikkeller & Friends, in the Nørrebro neighborhood, you’ll find a warm welcome, and an ever-changing lineup for 40 taps. I would love to see more American breweries follow their ˜and Friends’ approach, which they take very seriously, highlighting not only Mikkeller beers, but also those of like-minded breweries from near and far. When we visited, we enjoyed having the opportunity to sample the wares of To Øl, Herslev Bryghus and Bryggeriet Refsvindinge, among others. And, this being Denmark, having a well-behaved child in tow was not frowned upon; quite the contrary. The bottle shop attached to the bar had an enormous crate of Westvleteren XII sitting in the corner – as you do – and a very interesting selection beyond that. Nørrebro is also home to Nørrebro Bryghus, whose beers are available across Copenhagen, from restaurants to tourist attractions. It was an especially welcome discovery at the National Aquarium of Denmark, Den Blå Planet: you can enjoy a beer or two while taking in the view of the Øresund. Amager Bryghus beers are also widely available around the city, and Brewpub København was worth a quick visit.

No list of Copenhagen tourist attractions would be complete without a mention of Tivoli Gardens, which we found a most pleasant surprise. Having previously only visited rather uninspiring to downright filthy theme parks in the US and UK, I admit I didn’t expect much, but it was in every way delightful – and it has its own small brewery, Bryggeriet Apollo, in the park. While the beer in general is nothing earth-shattering, nor did it have any reason to be, it was certainly well-crafted and offered at a not-unreasonable price, given the surroundings (and the fact that food and drink in Denmark is quite expensive, compared to other major European countries). Modern amusement parks could learn a lot from their 19th century forebear – good food and drink, lovely gardens, fun rides without long lines, and Tycho Brahe as a mascot, rather than cartoon characters – all well worth the price of admission.

Returning to bottle shops, Ølbutikken is a can’t-miss stop; Jeppe Jarnit-Bjergsø and his staff have a well-curated collection of beers from around the world, though obviously with an emphasis on the owner’s Evil Twin Brewing.  And for those wondering whether the purported feud between the rival nomadic-brewer twins is A Real Thing, I can only offer this: Mikkeller & Friends had a number of interesting Evil Twin beers on tap, and Ølbutikken carried a good variety of Mikkeller beers. A little public friction is no doubt good for business, or it may be that Danish practicality overrides any present animosity; one presumes the truth is somewhere in the middle.

Carlsberg BreweryBut brewing in Copenhagen isn’t just about nomadic brewers and tiny breweries – there’s a good case to be made for saying that this is where modern industrial brewing was born, and that isn’t necessarily a Bad Thing. Emil Hansen first began to culture yeast for Carlsberg in the 1880s, laying the groundwork for brewing as we know it today. And the Carlsberg tour is absolutely a highlight for anyone interested in brewing history, and in considering how huge, multinational brewers can still make ‘good beer.’ Again, children are made to feel very welcome – the tour starts in the stables (or in the shop, depending on your point of view), and petting the Jutland horses, who have been carrying Carlsberg beer for more than 165 years, is encouraged. From there, it’s a whistle-stop tour though the old brewhouse, complete with beautiful tilework and copper kettles galore, to the famous Carlsberg Elephant Gates (with their 1901 swastikas fully explained, for the benefit of any children, or adults who might have missed some art history lessons) and sculpture gardens. And the tour concludes with a mix of old and new, in the Jacobsen Brewhouse, named for J.C. Jacobsen, the founder of Carlsberg. Since 2005, Carlberg has been brewing a range of high-quality beers under the Jacobsen label, and mixing and matching Carlsberg and Jacobsen beers in your post-tour samples is encouraged. There’s no ‘craft vs crafty‘ issue here – Jacobsen is very clearly part of the Carlsberg family, and a well-respected one at that – it’s just a great example of how a large brewer can respond to market demand for more flavorful, complex beers, all while keeping their flagship brands in the public consciousness.

There is, of course, much to do in Denmark beyond beer – visiting the Gundestrup Cauldron at the National Museum of Denmark was the achievement of a major life goal for me (this comes of having too many archaeology degrees), and the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde is also a must-see (though it is worth noting that both sites have some of the above-mentioned beers available in their shops and cafes). There are ample opportunities to visit a number of bog bodies across the country, and if you’re traveling with children, your itinerary will almost certainly include a visit to Legoland – which, like Tivoli, albeit with much more plastic, is surprisingly diverting for adults as well.

But if you seek a great beer destination that hasn’t quite been discovered by the hipster masses, head to Copenhagen; its mix of young, independent breweries and historic heft is hard to beat.