Kidnapped by CAMRA

I went to my first CAMRA meeting on Tuesday. I've always been vaguely opposed to the organization. Not for any mature, rational reason, of course. But because I used to read the "Real Ale Twats" Viz comic strip, and because Pete Brown's observations of his local CAMRA members portray them every bit as arrogant and anally-retentive as the comic.

This blogging lark has brought me into contact with many a member of Victoria's CAMRA and I've found them all to be disappointingly pleasant and fun. I suppose that some CAMRA chapters defined themselves during some real struggles with the imminent death of cask ale, and are rightly very proud of their successful revival of the craft. But pride sours into self-importance in many of us, which probably explains Brown's anecdotes of deplorable CAMRA capes.

CAMRA Victoria is no stranger to success. Constant campaigning and promotion has  certainly contributed to the thriving cask scene on the island. But our chapter comes across as a much more easy-going club for beer-lovers, providing a passable excuse for board members to duck out of the house once a month and get plastered in the name of a good cause. I'm all for that.

I attended the Victoria Annual General Meeting mostly in the capacity of a wannabe journalist, hoping to score a story for our BeerOnTheRock website or our monthly Monday Magazine article. I also suspected (correctly) that, seeing as it was hosted at Swan's, there'd be a free beer or two in it for me. Little did I know how the evening would end...

I sat with maybe 40-50 jocular CAMRA members, including Dave and a handful of other beer friends, and watched the yearly report and election of board members with interest. It was nice when President Glen Stusek gave us props for our blog and Monday article. I sat there with a pseudo air of journalistic objectivity, but I found myself getting into it. The talkers were charming, the mood was great, and that Swans Yuletide Ale was going down very well indeed.

After the first round of presentations, we were given a ten minute break that warped into twenty-five minutes of swift drinking and talking with home brewers, brewery reps, and flirtatious septuagenarians. We got a lot of interest for Ian's proposed Vancouver Island beer tour. Armed with a Swans Extra IPA each Dave and I sat down for the membership vote.

CAMRA's membership in Victoria is up to the high 200s — which is fairly impressive for a city of our size, and marks a steady increase. That said, as the voting progressed it became apparent that a few members had stepped down after long periods on the board, and there were one or two positions left to be filled. "How are CAMRA going to pull this one off?" I thought, as the president repeatedly appealed for someone to step forward as Secretary. But soon enough someone volunteered. I'm not sure he'd operated a computer before, but raised his glass with confidence and the crowd roared their approval.

After a few more votes, they were calling for Directors-at-Large — the final positions needing to be filled. Dave, who had been out drinking for a good two hours longer than I, told me to nominate him. Drunker than I realized I was, I shouted "Dave!" — possibly before the president had finished asking for votes. Dave was hilariously voted in.

I rocked back in my chair and laughed a bit. How had Dave got himself into this mess? I thought. I drained my IPA and heard my name being called out. I was being asked to be a Director-at-Large as well. It was flattering, but I have my journalistic integrity to think about. So of course, I declined gracefully. Besides, I have no idea what a Director-at-Large actually is.

Somewhere inside me the booze-fueled self-destruction pixie shouted "fuck it".
"I'll do it!" I heard myself say.
They voted me in.
I'm officially a twat.

I suppose I had better get a membership now.

A twat

Phillips Interview #2: Bodybuilders with Bad Backs

In this second part of three in the Phillips Brewery interview series, Matt Phillips talks about his taste in beers, and the challenges of producing and drinking a good India Pale Ale. Also, I get to drink three new Phillips brews — one of which is still in the testing phase.
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Phillips tells me that his best sellers are the Blue Buck ale and the IPA — which surprised me, as I thought the Phoenix Gold lager would outsell the IPA. Obviously you'd never mess with your best-sellers, right? Wrong. "Hop Circle," Phillips' new IPA, is actually an unfiltered reworking of the original recipe, and the impression I got is that Phillips sees it as a permanent replacement.

I'm a big fan of the original IPA, so my first instinct was to grab Phillips by the lapels and slap him around a bit. But before I could act he handed me the freshest-possible glass of Hop Circle, and I got over it pretty quick. This beer is simply better. It pours a lemony-gold colour, with a substantial haze (although my glass was the result of a near-explosive pour, which may have contributed to the suspension). The aroma is a blast of resiny hops — it actually smells very much like marijuana. The taste is rounder, a touch sweeter, but at least as bitter as the old IPA. I can't comment on the carbonation (my one problem with the old IPA was that it was always a bit too fizzy) — because the pour on this one left it kind-of flat, but the taste is spot-on. It *might* even be what at least one giddy blogger has called it — "the current IPA champion of BC" — but I'd have to drink some store-bought Hop Circle before I kicked Central City's Red Racer IPA off its throne.

Naturally, talk turned to IPA at this point, a beer that Phillips himself "drinks every day." The "raunchy and coarse" northwestern hops are clearly fundamental to his enjoyment of beer, and Phillips states bluntly that his own tastes govern what he brews (have you noticed that Phillips wide array of seasonals contains no sours? He's not particularly into them.) So, while I fail to draw Phillips on his favourite BC IPAs, he does offer a poetic angle on his go-to style:

MP: I've had some so-called "great" IPAs that have been sensational, and I've had them other times when they've been so-so. It all depends. You have to get them fresh. IPAs are so delicate. They're kind of like the bodybuilder with a bad back: they look really tough, but if you kick them in the knee they fall down. All the things that make an IPA really exciting are fleeting. You have to get them close to a brewery, you have to get them kept right, and without — say — a good bottle-filler? It's all wasted. 

During this speech something awakens in Phillips. He drops his measured, friendly demeanor, and excitement takes over. He calls out to a nearby worker and gestures at me to follow:
"Where's the Double Barrelled at?"
"Wherever that hose is going!"
Ten seconds later we're both drinking the Phillips Double Barrel — a Scotch Ale aged in fresh bourbon casks — poured from a tap set in the side of one of the thirty-foot tanks. It's a classy scotch ale, and I preferred it to the pretty decent Swans Brewpub version I had last week. "It's not so bourbony: less heat than last year," Phillips tells me. But I still get a powerful slug of bourbon, woody-vanilla, and figs from it. The booze is up-front, but not unpleasant.

- As a craft-brewer, are you comfortable with interesting inconsistencies between batches?

MP: Yes and no. With our regular beers, consistency is very important, and it's something we're always striving to perfect here. We're excited by the year-to-year variations in our seasonals. Some years we do the raspberry and it's blood-red, other times it might be a mild pink — but it could taste more powerful than the redder batch. It's really interesting. But our IPA should taste like an IPA every time, and our major aim is to deliver that.

I'm still finishing the scotch ale when Phillips makes another quick move and takes me to a tap poking out of a refrigerator. He pours me a pale-looking ale with a musky aroma I can't quite place. It tastes kind of sweet, like a malty brown-ale, but I also get a melony kick from it.

MP: This is a stone beer. It's fired with hot stones, so you get some caramelization when the hot stones hit the wort. It gives a lot of body and roundness and a real smokey flavour. It's a scottish style, light on the hops. Right now it's just a pilot beer but it could go forward.

- Do you brew a lot of experimental stuff?
MP: Oh sure. We could have three batches a week of experimental stuff. The stone beer is shaping up pretty well. Hey, let me show you the bottling line.

With that, I'm whisked to another part of the brewery, where we talk about the future of Phillips Brewery. I also manage to get Phillips to comment on a subject that has touched his own brewery — legal wrangles over copyright between craft-breweries.

But that's enough typing tonight. Catch it in part three.