Burmese Toddy

Visiting the imminently-opening country of Myanmar (Burma) was amazing and I highly recommend it.  (Though you might have to keep an eye on the news to avoid sectarian violence in certain places.)  An embarrassment of ancient Buddhist temples and some of the friendliest people you'll find anywhere.

Beer-wise, it's much like the rest of southeast Asia - almost exclusively macro light lager.  Our bus drove by a very new-looking and certainly government- or crony-owned brewery in Yangon that brews Myanmar, Tiger, ABC and other beers under contract, for domestic consumption.

Far from the macro brewery, along the roadside near the Bagan temple area in central Burma, are palm sugar "factories."  These are really just stands of sugar palms punctuated occasionally by a family-run thatched hut where the sugar is refined.  Tourists can stop and see the process, try the wares and make a donation/purchase if so inclined.

Grinding peanuts into oil is also a merry-go-round for this kid. The ride ends when you stop whipping the ox

Collecting sugar palm juice is a little like collecting maple syrup, but requires decent climbing skills.  You lop off one of the branches at the top of the tree, and hang a pot below the wound to collect the dripping sap.

Every morning you must scale a rickety bamboo ladder lashed to the tree in order to empty the juice pots into a pot hanging off your waist belt.

This requires entwining your legs through the ladder so that your hands are free.  While you're up there, you re-score the palm branch wound with a palm knife so that the sap keeps flowing.

The result is sweet, woody juice with more than a few dead but happy ants floating in it.  Then it's off to the refining hut.

The juice is heated in metal bowls fired by the branches cut from the palms.  After some hours of boiling and reduction, followed by some drying, you get...

...palm sugar nuggets, also known as jaggery. Woody and sweet, but not nearly as toothache-inducing as table sugar.  Important in much southeast Asian cooking.

That's all well and good, but what does this have to do with beer?  Another use for palm juice is to let it sit overnight in an open container.  Wild yeast combined with the high environmental heat mean that the container will have a big, meringue-like krausen by the next morning - natural fermentation a la Belgian lambic beer.

The fermented palm juice is called toddy (at least that's what the British named it back in colonial times), and it's drunk fresh that same day as a weak beer-like beverage (probably just a couple of percent ABV).  If you wait until the next day, it has "gone off" and is considered undrinkable.  (I'm guessing the residual sugars would be largely gone by then, and the wild yeast would have produced many earthy and sour flavours.)

Unfortunately I visited early in the morning, and the toddy was not yet ready for sampling.  But it did look inviting.

This was next to the fermenting toddy - a homemade still!  The toddy is largely used to make a wash that is distilled into palm liquor.  The clay oven is again fired by palm branches.  On top of that is a pot filled with toddy, that is heated and evaporated by the fire.  The big "wok" of water on top is for cooling the toddy steam.  Underneath the wok (inside the pot) is a funnel that collects the condensate where it drips off the bottom of the wok, and feeds it through the wall of the pot, through the spigot and into the bottle sitting on the ground.  The result is a powerful schnapps-like liquor.  Aside from being a libation, the alcohol is also used to create tinctures from native roots and plants, which after a few months of steeping are used as salves, arthritis pain relievers and other curatives.

A good lesson that, as good as beer is, you can ferment practically anything to create an interesting and helpful beverage.

Cambodia Cold Ones

Ah, southeast Asia.  Where "beer" is synonymous with "whatever taste-free, industrially-produced malt beverage you happen to have in the freezer at the moment."  It's hot here, damned hot, and sometimes you just need a drink of cold water.  Or pop.  Or macro light lager.

Unfortunately, you're going to have a tough time finding much else.  The big guys run the show, and there's not much demand for other types of beer.  Southeast Asians (Thais especially) don't enjoy extra-bitter beverages, and they have a sweet tooth; developing a light and refreshing but non-bitter and over-sweetened beer... well, seems a bit like chasing your tail.  No wonder this is where vodka-and-Red Bull originated.

You can sometimes find overpriced Belgian beer at tourist restaurants, but do you really want an 11% quadrupel when it's 40 C and humidity is high?  Given the long, hot shipping and storage conditions for foreign beer, I wouldn't recommend trying other styles either.

Cambodian Beer Sampling

I thought I should at least have a quick look around before packing it in and writing off the whole region, beer-wise.  And to add an extra exotic twist, I'd do it in Phnom Penh, Cambodia!

Ooo, Angkor beer, named for the ancient empire centered in Cambodia (builders of the famed Angkor Wat temples and ancient cities).  A suitably exotic brand name.  Left to right we have the standard light lager, followed by an Angkor Extra Stout and an ABC Extra Stout.  Both stouts are 8%.

Cool - the Angkor light lager ($0.60 US) greets you with an old school pull-off tab.  The contents... well, pretty much the same as Singha, Tiger, Leo and Chang in Thailand, Beer Lao in Laos and Myanmar Beer in Myanmar.  (If you have a choice, Leo is the lesser of evils.)  Next.

Oh my, that's not a good sign, Angkor Extra Stout.  A tacky-looking beer ring on the inside of the cap seal, which has bubbled and stretched itself apart from the cap.  It looks almost like the beer was boiled inside the bottle!  Maybe this one got stuck in the pasteurizer?  It did provide an impossible-to-miss lesson on how oxidized dark beers taste.  Like sherry and red wine, stale chocolate, old canned cherries, molasses, hints of black liquorice.  Bleah.

However, the ABC Extra Stout... came through with flying colours!  Tasted cold, it was actually a pleasant little brew, more like a fortified milk stout than a foreign extra stout.  Slightly banana-y aroma, flavours of coffee, milk chocolate, subtle ripe banana, lots of residual sweetness and medium hop bitterness.  Not something I'm going to take to the beach with me, but perfectly passable nonetheless.

Munich Fresh Beer Microbrewery

Walking home from the waterfront one night, I spied a sign for the Munich Fresh Beer Microbrewery.  In previous times, my heart would have skipped a beat in joyful anticipation.  However, this year I had already experienced many places around the world that capitalize on tourist fads by providing the trappings of something desirable at a high price, while ludicrously under-delivering.  (I'm looking at you, Turkish "brewpub".)

Despite the branding and messaging and faux-dirndl uniforms of the female wait staff and visible (though questionably operative) brewing equipment, this was really a very busy and popular family soup restaurant/private box karaoke venue.  Despite the signage, beer was secondary.

(Substandard) live music in the main indoor room

The beer list: "gold" and "stout".  Clearly not the correct German terms - what they meant was "light" and "dark".

The Hoplog Global Golden Rule of Brewpub/Microbrewery/Unknown Small Beer Producer Drinking:

If such a brewer offers only two beers, and they are named "light" and "dark" or  equivalent names, walk away and do not look back.

Sigh.  I didn't obey my own rule.  So as expected, here is the "Gold" beer I ordered:

Cloudy and yeasty and weirdly fruity and undrinkable - I was 100% certain this was the crap I would be served.  Yet my faith in humanity prevailed and I took a chance.  Sigh.

Kingdom Breweries

Not ready to give up yet, I did a spot of internet research, and it appeared there was an actual bottle-production craft brewery in Phnom Penh, just a few kilometres north of the downtown ferry jetty.  No one answered the phone, and no business hours were available (other than in online reviews), so I blindly piled into a tuk-tuk and was dropped off at their last known address, at the time I figured their office would open (1:00 pm).

Success!  Kingdom (as in the "Kingdom Of Cambodia") has some decent-sized financial backers, and therefore has pretty nice digs and (until recently) a European-trained brewer.  There's even a view of the mighty Mekong River across the street from the tasting room.

The brewery is in a former Nestle factory, and is therefore massive.  Plenty of room to expand, and the equipment is all shiny and new and decently large for such a small brewery.

Cases of bottles behind the bottling machine

The brewhouse has many tanks - hot liquor tank, cold liquor tank, mash tun, lauter tun, boil kettle, rice cooker (for the "Gold" which uses rice), etc.  Lots of pushbutton control, too.  Fancy!

So how was the beer, served in a frozen mug (traditional in these parts)?  In a word... meh.  All the beer except the Gold (aka typical light lager) is 100% malt, and the brewery has gotten some good press - but apparently all of it from teetotaler journalists.  The Gold is passable, but is the same as every other beer in the region (possibly a bit sweeter).  The pilsner, which I was really looking forward to, was... the lowlight.  It tasted like a typically premature, unfinished "cloudy pilsner" sold by unskilled brewpubs in hot-climate countries, but run through a filter (for clarity) and a pasteurizer (for flavour stability).  It tasted fruity and yeasty, and not in a particularly good way.  Maybe local palettes like this better than I do, but I'm skeptical.

But there's hope - their "dark" beer is an inoffensive beer along the lines of a mild or a mass-market English brown.  There's a bit of caramel malt in there, not too much bitterness, restrained sweetness, and most importantly no unbridled yeast problems.  Served cold, it's fine.  (Except that it costs twice as much as a light lager.)

The tour cost a few dollars, but our guide was very nice and answered our questions as best she could.  (For instance, there is no refrigeration room for the conditioning tanks - or for the fermenters.  According to our guide they use CO2 jackets for cooling these tanks, and the CO2 is purchased from the Coca-Cola factory down the road.  This seems odd and expensive to me, and some of the beer tastes like it was fermented too warm, but what do I know?)

FYI, there's apparently a "pub night" every second Friday or so at the brewery, which online reviews indicate is a lot of fun.

Verdict?

Kudos to Kingdom for making a go of it in a difficult brewing environment.  However, I've lost any hope that there could be a decent microbrewery in southeast Asia, so I'm going to stop investigating and just enjoy the last few weeks of my travel.  Until I return to sweet Vancouver in late April - land of barley, hops and good brewers - I guess it's watery Leo beer for me.

NB - Ever wonder why some breweries pasteurize their beer?  In this region, it's pretty much essential.  The above shop is across the street from Kingdom Breweries.  Those are boxes of beer stacked under the 2:00 pm Phnom Penh sun in the middle of hot season.  Imagine what your west coast IPA would taste like after that kind of treatment?  At least these beers don't have much flavour to begin with.

Coromandel Brewing Company, NZ

While at a cute cafe near Cooks Beach on New Zealand's Coromandel Peninsula, Mrs. Hoplog and I noticed they carried local beer from Coromandel Brewing Company.  A quick web search revealed the brewery was only about 20 minutes away, and having time on our hands we decided to swing by.  We were itching to try some local beer, especially since Croucher Brewing's Brew in Rotorua had been closed when we visited a few days earlier.  (Like many venues in Rotorua, they inexplicably don't open until dinner time.)

After taking the scenic route along a narrow single-lane dirt road cut into crumbling clay cliffs directly over the ocean, we arrived in the quiet community of Matarangi.

The address of the brewery led us to a cul-de-sac in a very residential neighbourhood.  We weren't sure if we were in the right place until we saw a minivan printed with the Croucher name parked in the driveway of what was obviously someone's private home.  No one appeared to be around except for a friendly dog greeter.  So we erred on the side of caution and did not disturb the premises.

Driving out, we circled to the other side of the house and noticed a small shed attached to the home - perhaps a former carport.  I couldn't resist a peek in the window, and sure enough it contained some lovely copper-clad brewing equipment.

Where the magic happens

Later that day I found a phone and called up Coromandel, who confirmed my suspicions that they are not set up for visitors or tours.  However, within the next year they plan to install a small tasting/growler filling room, and one should be able to drop by then.  But give them a call to confirm first.

So for now, the only way to sample their beer is to buy it in a local restaurant or grocery store (their batch size is only 350 litres).  Which is what I did.  And it's what you should do, too.

Their beer is, in a word, fantastic.  "Just Buzzin'" is a seasonal rye ale finished with New Zealand's famous manuka tree honey - not only can you taste the manuka honey, it dovetails nicely with the rest of the beer.  "Good As Gold" is a solid Kiwi-style pilsener - think Bohemian pilsener but with fruity Kiwi hops.  "Dizzy Blonde" is a seasonal, straight up Belgian pale ale, and my favourite of the lot.  And "The Dark Side" is a Kiwi twist on a bock, also lovely.

That's four very different styles of beer, all of them top-notch, and all from a brewery that is essentially just starting out. Kiwi beer fans keep an eye on this little operation, they're going places - and they've given you another great reason to visit the Coromandel area.

"Shaker Pint" Glasses

Standard 16 oz "shaker pint" glass

In my recent Wellington post, I complained about pubs serving good beer in "shaker pint" glasses.  Dominic from Hashigo Zake rightly pointed out that the ubiquitous 16 oz shaker pint is cheap and hardy, and that some have come to expect or even like their beer served in such a glass.  He wrote:

It may not be perfect for capturing aromas but a lot of people actually like the unpretentious, rugged style which corresponds to what they're looking for in a beer. The thick glass means the beer should change temperature slowly and being stackable and tough they're ideal for a bar. Best of all they aren't pig-ugly like the Spiegelau IPA glass.

No arguments about the ugly and unnecessary Spiegelau IPA glass from me.  But why my beef with the shaker glass?  I mean, you're probably drinking beer out of one right now.  They're everywhere.  Most of them sport brewery logos - and isn't that an implied endorsement by the brewery of the shape and quality of the glass, not just an inexpensive method of advertising?  (Answer: no.)

Here's the thing: shaker pint glasses are not really glasses.  They're a piece of bar equipment that does double duty as a glass.  They were a cheap vessel to serve draught beer in - and something that bars already stocked - back when the only options for beer were Molson, Labatt or O'Keefe's (in Canada).

Proper use of a shaker pint, according to Esquire.  Do not shake when full of beer or other carbonated liquids!

If you're serving icy Molson/Bud/Coors in a frozen glass, and you're not overly interested in tasting it, then go right ahead and use a shaker glass.  As correctly pointed out by Dominic, the glass is thick so it will hold its temperature well, potentially slowing temperature changes in the beer it holds.  If you serve a Coors Light in a frozen shaker glass, it will probably stay icy cold longer.  However, if your shaker glass isn't stored at the same temperature as your beer, it's also going to be very effective at pulling your beer away from its ideal serving temperature.  Ever had trouble tasting very much of your English bitter (and experienced foaming issues) because it's served in a frozen glass and is too cold?  Even worse, ever had a server pull a hot shaker glass right out of the scalding dishwasher, give it an ineffective one-second rinse then pour your cold pilsener into the hot glass?  Yuck.

Dominic also indicated that many people appreciate "the unpretentious, rugged style which corresponds to what they're looking for in a beer."  Sadly this is probably true.  Me, I'm trying to convince people to actually taste what they're drinking - and it's an uphill battle against billions of dollars in beer advertising over countless decades, all of which has been dedicated to getting you to associate beer with everything EXCEPT its taste.  Multinational breweries say: "Drink this beer and you'll be popular, fun, attractive, rich, intelligent, patriotic, manly (or unintelligent and attractive to the manly); drinking beer won't involve simple ingestion, but will be an experience you'll associate with our brand; but please pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, namely flavour.  In fact, you should probably just drink to get drunk or to win contests or to look cool with our bottle in your hand - please avoid any tasting by serving icy-cold and drinking straight from the bottle."

I certainly don't want beer drinking to become pretentious and suffer from elitism in the same way wine has.  But I do think that if consumers are at all interested in tasting what they're drinking, they shouldn't be selecting glassware or beer based solely on style or fashion.  (Such as the classics "hipster-and-PBR-from-a-can", or "football-fan-and-Bud-from-the-bottle".)  Perhaps it's a question of education - the shaker glass is not doing beer any favours, so it would be good for beer generally if consumers stopped expecting or demanding it.

Beyond the issues with temperature control, the shaker glass of course doesn't really capture any aroma, which is a big part of tasting a beer.  And quite honestly, though some might find the shaker pint rugged and unpretentious, I find it unattractive and utilitarian, especially when compared to all the great alternatives that are available.  (Just google "beer glassware".)  It works, but to me it's the equivalent of a paper plate for your beer.  It might be tough and manly, but it's more appropriate for Burger King than a rib eye steak.

The food equivalent of Bud Light in a shaker glass

Another huge issue with the shaker glass is expected serving size vs. proper pours, something I talked about in my last post.  Many expect 16 oz of beer when they order a "sleeve" (i.e. a shaker glass in BC lingo), but to do that you have to fill the glass to the rim with zero head, resulting in less aroma capture, poorer appearance, wasteful spillage and an awkward first couple of sips.  If you pour with the proper amount of head, then even if you announce the (sub-16 oz) volume of your pours, those people habituated to the shaker glass will still feel under-served.  It's a lose-lose situation, though marking the fill level of the glassware would help.

In Canada I haven't seen any size of shaker glass except the standard 16 oz version.  Getting away from this standard shaker also provides the opportunity to employ different and potentially more appropriate sizes of glass depending on the beer being served.

One of the many alternatives to the "shaker pint": classic "nonic" glasses designed for British session ales. The 24 oz size would leave you with 4 ounces of head even on a 20 ounce imperial pint.  Thin glass, stackable, the bulge provides chip resistance and easier grip for sweating glasses, and they're attractive.  A step up from the shaker glass

There are plenty of glassware articles on the web if my past couple of posts haven't exhausted you already - even the mainstream media occasionally takes notice.  My opinion is: don't obsess over glassware - going the Belgian route and demanding a specific, unique glass for each beer is clearly overkill (though it does guarantee you get an appropriately-shaped vessel).  A couple of different glasses, loosely appropriate for the styles of beer served, is a reasonable expectation of any pub.  But I think drinking flavourful beer in shaker glasses is a recipe for a non-optimal drinking experience, for beer being either under-poured or improperly poured, and ultimately for perpetrating beer's image as icy, pale, tasteless, and not deserving of the same respect as other beverages.  It's not the end of the world to drink a beer from a shaker glass, but it's very easy to do much better.

Home Glassware

While a bit delicate to be stocked at a rough-and-tumble sports bar, my favourite all-around beer glass, the one that I use for all my beer drinking at home, is Spiegelau's stemmed pilsener glass.  It's a great glass for nearly any beer you might encounter, is made of lovely thin crystal, and has a surprisingly large volume (a standard 330 mL bottle barely fills it to two-thirds) providing plenty of room for a tall head and aroma capture - or for more beer.

But if you know and love your shaker glass, by all means stick with it.  There's no one way to drink a beer!

A Case For Marking Glassware

As many of you might already know, many bars in Vancouver (and other areas of Canada too) advertised their beers as "pints" when in fact they were not.  The standard "shaker pint" glass, so often used to serve beer (much to my disappointment - more on that later) is 16 oz when filled to the brim.  So pubs sometimes made the mistake of advertising "pints" of beer when in fact they meant a 16 oz glass (commonly known in Vancouver as a "sleeve").  A pint in Canada is 20 oz.

Pubs in Canada have to serve the volume they advertise; and because we don't have standardized drink sizes like the UK does, pubs also have to post (somewhere in the pub) the volume of every size of drink they sell (so you know how much beer you're paying for).  Many pubs failed to abide by these rules, though CAMRA Vancouver has had some recent success with their F.U.S.S. (Fess Up to Serving Sizes) campaign, and as a result many more bars are now posting their drink volumes as required.

So it's great that your expected drink volume is now probably posted somewhere in the pub.  But then you order a beer, say a "medium sized" beer of 14.5 oz, and your server presents you with a glass of beer.  You look at it a minute, then realize hey, I have no idea if this is really 14.5 oz or not, and I left my measuring cup at home.  It might be a 14.5 oz or larger glass, as might or might not be etched on its base.  But the beer was poured properly - with an attractive one inch of head - so you really don't know if the volume that ended up in the glass is 14.5 oz.  Plus, there's probably some variation depending who is doing the pouring, and  the second glass might not contain the same volume as the first.

Interesting example from Hoosier Beer Geek of something approaching fraud

Now let's look at it from the pub's point of view.  Let's say the pub serves beer in sleeves (16 oz shaker glasses) as is so common.  The pub can fill this glass one of two ways:

1) Right to the brim. This gives 16 oz of beer, which is often the amount expected by customers who are used to this common size and shape of glass.  But it doesn't leave space for head of any sort, compromising the aroma and attractiveness of the beer.  The bar will have to pour very carefully to eliminate this head, and will probably waste some beer spilling or shaving the head in order to squeeze the full volume into the glass, cutting into profits.  (This isn't a problem for beers that were originally served in shaker glasses - Molson, Labatt, Bud, etc. all have practically zero head, and not much aroma.  Some English bitters and a few other beer styles also have minimal heads.)  A decent craft beer won't look or smell as good as it could in this situation. 

2) Pour 1 inch of head on top of the beer.  The beer will look and smell good, but it will only be about 14.5 oz.  This is no longer a 16 oz sleeve of beer as your average consumer understands it.  The pub could post its glass volume as being 14.5 oz, but many consumers will say, "why isn't my glass full?" since they are used to getting a full, headless pour in that glass elsewhere.  Plus they are only looking at the sandwich board outside that's advertising the beer specials, and probably won't hunt for the posted glass volumes.  Also, most customers won't break out a calculator to know how the price of that 14.5 oz compares to 16 oz elsewhere, they will just know they're getting less beer here than at other pubs that do a brimming (improper) pour into that same glass.

Pubs could use a more interesting, better looking and better-performing vessel than the shaker glass, which avoids the Catch-22 of customer-expected pour volume vs. proper pouring technique.  But the customer and the pub still can't really determine what volume is actually being poured.  What's to be done?

I think the ultimate solution is to use glassware that provides some head space and that is marked with the fill volume - which is hopefully a nice, round number like a pint or a half litre, etc.

Such a simple thing, that little line near the top

Marking beer glassware is either the law or expected practice nearly everywhere in Europe.  The United Kingdom has had similar serving size frustrations but is still well ahead of Canada and the US.  Marking glassware is subtle, effective, and results in full pours without overfills, no wasted beer, good presentation, and no customer disputes.  The only possible argument against marking glassware is that it would "cost too much" for pubs to purchase it.  I don't buy that argument.  It doesn't cost too much for the Europeans, and if your glassware supplier is gouging you for having a couple of marks placed on your glassware, it's time to find another supplier - maybe one that also supplies European pubs.

So how about it, Vancouver - and BC - and Canada?  Do you consumers want to know you're being served the amount of beer you paid for, without suffering a brimming, headless pour?  Do you pubs want to reduce beer waste, present beer properly and avoid attracting customer dissatisfaction?  Then let's put some little lines on our beer glasses.

And please, we're a metric nation, so put the markings on a 100 mL interval.  Then we'll have at least a modicum of volume standardization.

Wellington

If Nelson is the center of craft beer production in New Zealand, Wellington is probably the center of craft beer consumption.  There are some big similarities to Vancouver - including many hipsters, and enthusiastic coffee and craft beer consumers.

This cafe and craft beer culture is deserved and long-earned.  The Wellington Museum of City and Sea even displays an antique beer-drinking manual from the area...

Teetotallers nearly instituted prohibition in New Zealand - 47% voted in favour at one point in the past.  And for years pubs had to close at 6pm.  Which meant that working men who all got off work at 5pm had less than one hour to do their night's worth of drinking, with the obvious result of massive binge drinking.  It was a happy day when pub hours were extended.

Fortunately, Wellington now has more lenient liquor laws and some great craft beer drinking opportunities.

Hashigo Zake

If you want to drink craft beer in Wellington, this is the place to come, period.  A cool subterranean bar unabashedly dedicated to craft beer.  The focus is on New Zealand beers, but with a good dose of various international beers, particularly in bottles.

The bright red off-street entrance announces the Asian look-and-feel.

The staff was helpful and knowledgeable, and able to provide clear suggestions and descriptions without dumbing down the information provided.  Bravo.  I immediately felt comfortable and informed.

Asian decor abounds.  And a video monitor of tap offerings is a nice splash of high-tech.

Mike's Taranaki Hefeweizen beside Townshend Aotearoa Pale Ale.  Purchasing a half-pint gets you a decent-shaped goblet, but many full pints get a more utilitarian shaker-type glass, like most venues in New Zealand.  Sigh.

This is a chill venue to contemplate a complex craft beer solo, or to engage in animated discussions with several good friends.  Make it your first stop - you'll probably want to return for more before you leave town.

Malthouse

The Malthouse is only a couple of years old, and is situated on a high pedestrian traffic area of downtown.  As such, it has more of an after-work pop-in-to-the-local-for-a-pint feel than Hashigo Zake's more loungey, sophisticated vibe.  Though its prices are just as high - if not higher - than Hashigo Zake.

Unfortunately, there's a smoker-friendly porch area right in front of the pub, whose doors are always open in summertime.  So hopefully you enjoy smelling/tasting cigarette smoke in your beer, or the great-looking pizzas Malthouse serves.

The Malthouse has some great beer on tap, and a nice bottle selection.  But it's a bit too busy after work to get more than a few words of advice on what to drink from the heavily occupied bartenders.

A brief break in the crowd at the bar - time to order some beer, quick!

Oh, and the crowd is back.  Nice problem to have at a pub!

Full glasses are served in the ubiquitous and terrible shaker pint glass.  Half glasses are served in... half-size versions of the shaker pint!  Double sigh.  Please, craft beer bars, serve your beer in any other type of glass, so we have a hope of smelling/tasting it.  A different glass would also leave some room for head to improve the drinking experience, instead of brimming under-sized glasses like this.

I don't want to be too down on the Malthouse - their beer selection is great.  But they need a couple of tweaks before they can compete with Hashigo Zake for pure beer drinking pleasure.

Tap Haus

I didn't have a chance to sample anything at the Tap Haus, a beer restaurant that loudly proclaims its pedigree.  But the specials on the sandwich board didn't look promising: Corona, Carlsberg and vodka + Red Bull.  Not disappointed to give them a pass.

Garage Project

What's with this abandoned gas station?

Sweet - it's the small-volume and highly-respected Garage Project brewery.  Not quite so small as when they started out with only a little Sabco-style pilot system, but still pretty boutique.

Some new & bigger brewing equipment, and some barrels - nice.

Garage Project is not presently set up for tours or tastings.  But the gang was hard at work both brewing and putting together their tasting and growler-filling room, which was still about 2-3 weeks from completion.  They were nice enough to say a friendly hello to a Canadian home brewer, and sold me a T-shirt featuring the logo of their wicked Double Day Of The Dead beer I had sampled previously.

Definitely one of the coolest beer T-shirts I've come across.  Be sure to watch out for these guys - they started out nano-style, have garnered great respect in New Zealand, and can never keep up with demand.

Fork & Brewer

Fork and Brewer bills itself as a craft beer and food pairing restaurant.  Its menu offers beer pairing suggestions (not uncommon at pubs these days), and beer is used as an ingredient in many dishes.

The view at the top of the entrance stairway is of working brewing vessels - not just for show.  Fork & Brewer makes several styles of its own beer, in addition to offering many others on tap.  And the brewer is often around if you have questions or want to thank him - he's hard to miss in his big hair and beard and old school metal T-shirt.

These are both half-glasses of beer.  Inexplicably, one is served in a terrible half-size shaker pint, and the other comes in a huge and decent goblet.  Odd.

I have to admit, I was skeptical of Fork & Brewer - the interior said "mostly-empty high-volume bar" rather than restaurant, and I was starting to think they might be all talk and no action.  But their beer was fine if not mind-blowing.  The Thai beef salad was very good, and the pairing with their pilsener - definitely not a memorable beer on its own - was stellar!  So no cause for complaint here, my meal and the beer pairing were both very good.

The big barrel-esque tap tree at the bar has 40 taps, but many are duplicates of the Fork's in-house beers.

There's a skinny porch off to one side where you can catch some rays - but unfortunately it's also where the smokers flock, so goodbye tasting your meal or your beer if you're out there.


Wellington lived up to its craft beer and cafe culture billing, in addition to being a funky, oddly Vancouver-esque stop.  Big thumbs up.