Busso Espresso

Espressi

Espressi

Alongside beer and food another major love of mine is good coffee, in fact my love of coffee predates my serious interest in beer. There are similarities between coffee and beer – a whole chain of craft is involved: high quality well grown and sourced ingredients, brewed/roasted with care and passion, then cared for and properly served at the point of sale. Very similar to British cask ale in fact.

When I visit “home”1 in Western Australia I’m keen to see how things have developed and changed since the last time. I’ll be doing some breweries soon… but first, I’ve ticked off the top three coffee locations in Busselton (“top” according to presence in various Google search results). I’ve thrown in WA’s “standard” coffee chain too… so, where’s espresso at in Busselton? I’ve written up my impression of my four espressos below, and also included, in brief, the opinions of Kat on espresso and my brother Nikolai on his flat whites. Read on for the caffeinated fun…

Fat Duck

Fat Duck

Fat Duck — cycles + espresso

Love the concept here. Bikes & coffee, all it needs is beer. I was here two years ago and thought: I should do this in Cambridge. But there’s already so many bike shops… anyway, there’s an Iron Man event in Busso this week so this place is probably doing good business. Glancing to the wall behind the bar I see loads of Crema Gourmet Coffee Roasters bags – so I expect that’s the source of the beans here.

The espresso is pleasant enough, but pretty trad(itional) – roastytoasty. The espresso was of a good short pour length, but despite that the body is relatively light and thin. I’m quite happy enough sipping it in the sun, but it isn’t calling to the special coffee place in my heart.

Fat Duck - Espresso Shot

Fat Duck – espresso

Flat White Niko: Better than most.

Espresso Kat: Very “dark” flavours, prefer lighter roasts.

It cost AU$11.20 to buy 1 x flat white and 2 x espresso.

Dôme Busselton

Dôme Busselton

Dôme — WA’s own “premium” chain

Across the road from Fat Duck we have a branch of Western Australia’s own coffee chain. I remember going to Dôme on Rottnest Island a lot in years past, watching the ferries come into the pier. Good memories, but the coffee… expectation: average.

They use their own Dôme house blend of course. The espresso here has a good length pour with dark markings on the crema. First flavour hit is good old “burnt rubber” from the crema, but this mellows to a rich bitter dark chocolate. It’s OK and punchier than the Fat Duck offering. So I’m reluctantly siding with the chain joint on the espresso front at this point.

Dôme Busselton - Espresso

Dôme Busselton – espresso

Flat White Niko: “just like any other flat white”. Average. Perfectly drinkable. Fat Duck flat white was smoother and better.

Espresso Kat: prefers Fat Duck. Found this a bit one-dimensional and “normal for Australia”.

It cost AU$£3.60 to buy one espresso.

Laundry 43

Laundry 43

Laundry 43 — super shiny new small bar

Not the most prominent in Google results but my mum recommended this new place and she has a good idea of what I’m looking for. The first thing we saw was a little flag hung out saying they use Five Senses coffee beans. A good sign: somebody cares about coffee here enough to proudly display the brand of their beans out the front of the shop.

Laundry 43 - Five Senses Coffee

Laundry 43 – Five Senses Coffee

The espresso here is rich & chocolaty with no “burnt rubber” note and a good acidity that sets it apart from the previous two. This is more my style – yum. Just a little too light bodied, I expect it could be beefier with some slight tuning to the extraction. By far the best espresso of the three sampled to this point.

Laundry 43 - espresso

Laundry 43 – espresso

Flat White Niko: Milk’s similar to Fat Duck but probably better – thicker. Less
flavour but very smooth without bitterness. More milky. Best so far, but not far from Fat Duck. Not hot enough though.

Espresso Kat: “most smoothest”, prefer it, less strong tasting. Most “modern”.

It cost AU$12 to buy 1 x flat white and 2 x espresso.

More Café

More Café

More — “used to be the hippy place”

My first reaction on seeing this place was to remember it used to be some sort of hippy/veggie place, waaay back. Now it’s an avant garde looking establishment reminiscent of what I recall starting to show up in Sydney before I left 7 years ago. On entering my first thought was: always good to see a dedicated barista looking after the coffee orders. On display in the café are bags of beans from local roaster Yahava, so I assume it’s their coffee in use.

The espresso looks good in snazzy blue demitasse. Flavour: super trad. This is probably the same as the blend Mum uses at her restaurant – I couldn’t even coax an espresso from it that I could drink. The More espresso isn’t bad though: barista skillz on display! But that said, it is not to my tastes. Much more like the first two, but even toastier. Loads of “burnt”. I probably prefer Dôme over this.

More - espresso

More – espresso

Flat White Niko: much like the Laundry one but hotter. Hard to compare flavour because it’s also just not very strong. Milk thinner. Tastes thin. OK – maybe less like the last one than initially thought. On the fourth flat white taste buds are a bit blown.

Espresso Kat: somewhere between Laundry and Dôme. Not much body to it, bitterness notable.

Nice touch: you can buy hessian bags made from coffee sacks. :)

Summing Up

Laundry 43 is way out in front here for me. My tastes in coffee are well beyond the traditional and their Five Senses beans are ticking my boxes. Less of the toasty roasty and a bit of sweetness and acid bite. Lovely. I think the espresso trend here is still firmly tied to the traditional end of the scale and the coffees I tried today wouldn’t be out of place in Italy. They were all pretty good, and the three “losers” lose out more as a matter of taste than technique.

Coffee around here is still on the up – great to see there’s at least one place that can tickle my espresso fancies but an edge still seems to be missing. I’d love to see some pour-over options too and a bit of single-origin geekery in that department.


[1] Home being wherever my parents are living really. I grew up in a town called Dunsborough, but “home” is currently 30 minutes from there in the larger town of Busselton. Really when I say “home” I mean everything from Busselton through to Margaret River – inclusive. But for the purposes of this post Busselton it is.

Response: The Point Of CAMRA

Yet another excessive blog comment turned post… these words are written in response to some very valid points raised by M.Lawrenson at Seeing The Lizards in: The Point Of CAMRA. I couldn’t submit my comment because it was more than 4096 characters. Ooops.

I speak for only myself of course. I dislike some things CAMRA does, I like other things CAMRA does. I’m an active CAMRA member and have done time on the committee of the North Hertfordshire branch. I currently live in the Cambridge branch area but have had my membership tied to North Herts as I’m still actively involved there. So “my branch” is North Herts.

Please read this first. As the below is a direct reply.

CAMRA festival funds – profit driven? Excess raised by the festivals I’m involved in gets sent to HQ where I presume it goes into the “general campaign pot”. What we keep pays for: setup costs for the next beer festival (including float), newsletter publication, subsidised minibus trips [edit: to hard-to-reach countryside pubs], occasional buffets at branch meetings. [edit: forgetting: as a branch we own a lot of equipment related to beer festivals too, which needs continual maintenance and replacement] Costs are going up so festivals don’t seem as cheap as I’m guessing they once did (before my time in the UK). Venue hire is increasingly expensive, beer is going up quite a bit too. Profits are certainly not shooting up and (my branch at least) has no goal to increase profits at successive festivals.

'spoons vouchersLicensees relations – not good? Nope… CAMRA branches don’t quite do enough to get them onside. The problem is every one seems to want personal attention and a member drinking in their bar 100% of the time. (There probably is – the problem is they only see the “core” members as “CAMRA” – in my branch that’s ~18 out of nearly 900 members – and we have 200 pubs.) IMO more needs to be done to improve relationships with pubs across the board. The fucking ‘spoons vouchers really don’t help here. I’ve nearly rage-quit CAMRA several times over them. On the other hand the very very low number of active members makes it difficult. I wonder if this might really be an member “activation” problem. Not enough of us, we’re all using our “spare time”, it really is time-consuming…

Beer discount rage? I don’t really know where this comes from. (Outside of the ‘spoons vouchers.) I think there must be certain members (and maybe branches) that are a pain in the arse about it. I’m not even sure if any pubs in my branch area offer a CAMRA discount – and I’m speaking as a committee member. As a branch, in recent years at least, we’ve had no policy to badger publicans to offer discounts. I expect some do so because they’re “playing the game” – they’re the ones willing to spend money on marketing. I’d say the more “business minded” licensees perhaps. They know this helps spread the word about their pub… and that really most drinkers aren’t CAMRA members so it isn’t going to have a huge impact on their bottom line. (I have noticed Cambridge branch publish a list of pubs that provide a discount.)

Active members campaigning? In my branch a dismal 2% of members are regularly “active” despite significant membership increases. I’ve puzzled myself about why we have this constantly increasing membership (about +100 this year IIRC). Festival entrance? Not ours, it’s only 3 quid and doesn’t suffer from queuing – but we’re near Cambridge… huge queues there… so maybe. Pub discounts? (Very few in my area AFAIK). Wetherspoons vouchers maybe? (Only 3 ‘spoons – though soon to be 5.) I’d love to know more demographic and “churn” stats but I don’t have ready access to that data (for quite sensible data protection reasons). I know the geographic distribution and it is fairly wide & even, certainly not clustered on Wetherspoon pub locations.

As for CAMRA newsletters… almost universally an embarrassing relic. Including, to some extent, the one that covers my area that’s edited by – CAMRA heartland – the South Hertfordshire branch.

'spoons vouchers

To address “The Point of CAMRA”: I think there are a few factions/mindsets in CAMRA who see this differently:

  1. Core oldsters who’re still “fighting the war” – keg may come back at any time, keg is the antichrist, keg is “cold chemical fizz”. Many of these are probably not exactly flush with cash so they might appreciate the vouchers and discounts I suppose.
  2. “For the consumers” – it’s all about getting deals for members. They’re somewhat price-focused, and see pubs as a “resource” in the dehumanising “Human Resources” sense. These are the ‘spoons voucher defenders – and CAMRA HQ seems to be a concentration of them. The ones super-focused on the membership number strangely enough. (And apparently membership would fall like a STONE if CAMRA stopped the flow of vouchers and made What’s Brewing & Beer available to the general public.)
  3. “For the beer” – for the most part simply want to enjoy a good beer beer. To this end the goal is promoting cask ale: festivals spread the word but pubs are the core. Supporting pubs is key, running GBG selection and selecting a Pub of the Year is an important campaigning activity with the goal of driving up standards.

I’m in group 3 myself. IMO this group wants to help pubs because helping pubs means more good beer. This seems to be a majority of the group you’ll find volunteering at GBBF and many other festivals. In my experience these folk are more concerned about quality than price. I think this sort of member is the dominant force in my own branch. We still get all of the flack listed above though as, I expect, a) some general members out there are right real-ale-twats & b) some landlords don’t seem to realise that they can’t manage cask ale to save their lives and meagre branch resources are not able to hold their hand. If they’re not attracting CAMRA members & attention then the reason is probably nothing to do with the price of a pint. I’ve done more than enough “pub rambles” where as a branch we deliberately visit a set of pubs where all but one or two are ones that we *know* will likely be pretty damn awful on the cask ale front. We go, we drink their beer, when it is properly crap we tell them (we return the properly crap beer and likely end up having either a discussion or an argument about it). The ball’s really in their court at this point.

I should state that I’m entirely on the side of CAMRA focusing on support for _cask_ale_ in pubs. I have nothing at all against other beer formats, but really do see CAMRA as a cask-specific organisation. (Controversially (?) I wish the cider folk would go get their own organisation, and think that “real ale in a bottle” is a distraction… what next – should CAMRA add a committee to support morris dancers?) That said, I think CAMRA should crack down on ALL negativity about “keg” and “craft beer” (sigh, whatever that is… fucking What’s Brewing letters section. Stop publishing that shit!). I do think there should be more focus on pubs – but I also do think this IS happening, it’s just taking a long time for it to filter down to the branch level. And, frankly, I get the impression from people I know that some branches are the “Real Ale Twats”… solution to that? No idea. I might think of some suggestions – like a “HOWTO execute a hostile takeover of a CAMRA branch” blueprint.

Alas for the general direction of CAMRA at a macro-level… it’ll be slow to change, because as far as the AGM and vocal membership goes there seems to be a lot more support by member types 1 and 2. It feels, to me, a lot like national politics in that way.

Sorry about the incredibly lengthy reply. I should probably try and write my own modern/young(hah) CAMRA member manifesto some time.

AND, BACK TO THE ORIGINAL ARTICLE TO CONTINUE THE DISCUSSION?

wpid-IMG_20130921_000307.jpg

Session 81: Women & The UK Beer World

I missed that this “Scary Beer Feminists” (aka “Women In Craft Beer”) “Session” thing was happening. A detailed roundup.

I do have my own typically grumpy point of personal experience to add… it is, as it must be, UK-centric…

GBBF Bar Staff

GBBF Bar Staff

My other half and I are just the “young” side of mid-30s. Kat is as keen on drinking beer as I am. We go to the pub together, we share beers together at home, we go to beer events together, we’ve both volunteered at beer festivals small, big, and independent. We’ve even both “done time” on a CAMRA branch committee. Kat was the one who got her own work group going to the pub regularly on Thursdays for lunch. We don’t really think of any of this this as being odd – perhaps because we’re from Australia? Though we do recognise that it isn’t exactly usual…

Kat with Table

Kat with Table

But that does not excuse the typical crap we experience from (almost always “older”) blokes in pubs and beer festivals in the UK. Fucking hell it is getting pretty damn tiresome. It likely doesn’t help that Kat’s small, of south-east Asian background, and is quite happy drinking a pint of 5+% stout or porter… but again, no fucking excuse. “I’m just curious.” “Where are you really from?” “Where does she put it all!” “Hur hur hur…” *leer*

Sadly I don’t expect this dire situation to change in a hurry. It’ll probably change only as fast as these relics of an outmoded worldview pass away with time. What this situation does is cement a developing beer-culture divide – if there’s a younger, hipper, more “craft” venue available then we’re likely to prefer it just to avoid the asshats. So-styled “craft beer bars” may have a “full of young hipsters” feel to them – but that’s a hell of a lot better than a  “full of leering, sexist, racist, old fools” feel[1]. The same can be said for events. CAMRA[2] festivals tend to have more of the “problem” customers while events like the Independent Manchester Beer Convention and the Birmingham Beer Bash are far more comfortable (and diverse in both people and beer).

Real Ale Twats - A Stereotype

Real Ale Twats – A Stereotype

I do not, of course, accuse all traditional pub goers – not even a majority of them. I haven’t done a comprehensive census.[3] But even if the problem types are a minority – the majority accept them, don’t bat an eyelid, a handful may apologise for them – thanks – but nobody tackles the issue. We understand, been there done that, it is difficult, it is exhausting to have these arguments – and the usual response is a brick wall of offended consternation. So we, ourselves, rarely say anything – we just uncomfortably put up with it and choose our drinking venues and events accordingly. Normally none of these folk are bad per se, many could be thought of as “good old chaps” – but they exude an unwelcoming subtext, an accusation of being different, out of place, incongruent, an amusement.

In contrast… I feel that “new wave” venues and events are providing a more comfortable experience for the non-“old white male” drinker. Somewhere where people of all backgrounds and genders can feel comfortable having a drink… OK, that’s stretching things… we’re not yet at such a Utopia. I speak as one of the privileged – I’m a white male – it takes effort and experience for me to understand and sometimes even see these problems (and I don’t claim to understand them completely, it’s complex). But within my understanding the “craft beer” community in the UK is an improvement on traditional beer culture in the UK – for that I am thankful – but there’s still plenty of room for further improvement. As certainly documented in the session roundup. This “Session” is also an example of how the modern beer scene benefits from having these discussions and is lucky enough to have a whole raft of people keeping things in check. We must be ever vigilant and also self-critical: as the saying goes “Check Your Privilege”[4]. But more simply & specifically to our case in the beer world: all humans should have the opportunity to to enjoy a beer in happiness and comfort. If you’re doing anything to work against this ideal: CHANGE.


1. I tried to find a good image of the “craft beer hipster” stereotype, but failed. I was hoping for a “craft beer” equivalent of the Real Ale Twats. Somebody should do this. :)

2. CAMRA customers are less diverse than “craft beer event” customers. As observed by me, I don’t have stats of course. But there is a huge variance. Cambridge festival is pretty good but our own Hitchin festival isn’t so good – although both have a distinct problem element that is far less noticeable at the new wave of indy fests. Interestingly enough diversity amongst festival volunteers seems higher. Sadly, female festival volunteers have a hard time of it thanks to the certain sort of customers my vitriol is directed at here. A win/lose situation for CAMRA.

3. The bulk of our UK pubgoing experience is in the London/Hitchin/Cambridge corridor, an area I’d have thought would be more on the progressive side.

4. I really don’t like this phrase, it makes me feel uncomfortable… perhaps that’s why.

[This post reviewed and approved by Kat.]

 

Craft? Beer diversity is the key…

"meh." - in a fortune cookieCraft blahft… I’m struggling with this whole “craft” thing. I guess it was inevitable that within the UK the word itself would grow beyond a core of beer lovers and become the plaything of markers and salesfolk. We did want success for the beer we loved. The general response to the supposed exploitation and uncertainty is split between “we must have a definition of craft beer in order to protect craft beer” and “MEH!“. A majority of beer lovers I know seem to be in the latter camp, or close to. I’ve thought far too much about this, and especially about what I mean when I use the term… and I’m trying to use it a lot less now. But this is hard because I’ve used it for a good while now, with my own idea of what I mean – and at the same time it has become a key word in UK beer jargon – not merely uttered by nerds, but showing up in national media, and even mainstream mindrot. We seem to be stuck with “craft beer”.

Off Beat - Drink CraftAt the end of the day… what does it mean to me… a mere drinker? What do I want out of beer in the UK and the growing “scene” I enjoy? Quite simple: more beer! But not more of a specific beer. The idea that led me and many others to this whole “craft” thing was not some concept of a supreme beer. To take a prominent example: Punk IPA. It’s great, I’m happy to drink a pint of it, or a half, or a twird (the word “schooner” can bugger off). But drink it all the time? Gawd… how dull. I really don’t think that’s any different to drinking Carling all the time, or Greene King IPA. This is exactly the sort of “monoculture” situation that the supposed “craft beer revolution” was supposed to tear the world away from – right? Now, I don’t mind if you do drink nothing but Punk IPA religiously, nor Fosters for that matter (just don’t call it bloody Australian, thanks). But then you are likely “not one of us” – where “us” is what I think of as “craft beer drinkers”. This does not mean I’m always on the hunt for something new. In fact I’m quite happy drinking nothing but beers I know and love all week… preferably so long as there’s a few different ones. It is about diversity – styles, flavours, beers, breweries – as much diversity as possible. The late, great, Simon Johnson said it all with this nom-de-plume “Reluctant Scooper” – if I see something new I feel an inexorable draw to give it a chance, it might be amazing.

Now – turn to bars, pubs, whathaveyou… put Punk IPA on a keg font as a permanent offering and say you have “craft beer”. Eh… OK. I’ll enjoy some every now and then. No doubt, to me, it is huge upgrade compared to your usual keg stuff. Put it next to your ever-rotating 10-cask-ale line-up… I’m not really going to drink much of your so-called “craft beer”. In fact you were probably already doing “craft beer” rather well. Ah, definitions, confusion breaks in. An unchanging line-up of good UK brewery keg beer does not a “craft beer bar” make, in my mind it isn’t really even a “craft beer” selection at this point. Same-old-same-old, good beer it may be. But I’m bored.

I don't vice a (rat leading an ass graphic)Epiphany! This whole thing… it isn’t about the beer, the brewery, or the brewer. A given beer isn’t _craft_, neither a given brewer or brewery – there is no magic “craft fairydust” that makes a beer worth drinking. A given beer may be good, may be bad – to you, to me, it’s subjective. In summer, in the sun, having a BBQ… I really love a few bottles of Hoegaarden. I like the flavour, it tastes good. It’s owned by AB InBev… do I care? Nope, don’t give a rat’s arse. Craft is a drinking experience – and that experience is defined by diversity. A single beer simply cannot be an embodiment of “craft” – craft isn’t a thing like that. (Oh, and get over the AB InBev thing already, they’re not fucking Mordor – nor Nazi Germany in World War II. It’s just BEER FFS.)

What’s the “craft beer” life, what’s the “craft beer venue”? I have 20+ different beers in my house at any one time. Some just a single bottle, but sometimes I’ll have a whole case of a single beer. Some of these beers will be made by tiny British micros, others will be made by big Belgian breweries, same will be made by breweries owned by massive multinationals, some are even homebrew – but, to be honest, at the moment AB InBev are more reliable for a good beer than my homebrew (I am working on it though!).

Pint of Greene King IPACraft in a pub? It’s the same: DIVERSITY. Got cask ale? Keep your range changing and span many styles. Got keg beer? Do the same! IDEALLY, HAVE AND DO BOTH! And I don’t even mind if you have cask Green King IPA as a permanent and keg Fosters as a permanent – I know people who love them – but for me, so long as you also have an ever-changing diversity of other beers of both formats I’m happy and you’re doing it right.

Craft in a brewery? Aside from the proper use of the word as a verb, the word “craft” is not a brewery descriptor. It isn’t a trait. It isn’t a thing. Craft is an experience – and that experience is had by the drinker. Are you having a craft experience? It is diversity – the true opposite to the monoculture we are supposed to rally against.

Breweries: keep doing the good shit. Pubs: shape up, mix it up. Play the field. Swapping Guinness for Black Isle Porter or Meantime Stout is laudable, I salute you – but if that’s all you do you’re really not exciting me. Meantime tweeted today that they produced 52 different beers this year – GET THEM. Think wine-bar, but with beer. Variety & change. Beer is an experience. HIT ME WITH IT.

My experience of good beer, enjoying beer, appreciating beer, “craft beer” – it’s all about diversity. I don’t read the same book over and over again, I don’t watch the same film over and over again, I don’t drink the same wine over and over again, I don’t eat the same food over and over again – vive la différence! I enjoy difference. I demand the same from my beer. BE DIVERSE.

Call it “craft” if you will… no doubt I’ll keep using the word at times – but what I mean is…

Beer diversity is the key. 

Beer list at the Hanging Bat

Beer equality…

Beer Brined Pheasant

… though I prefer the sound of “Beerinated Pheasant“.

Pheasant in brine

I picked up a couple of decent sized pheasant at my local butcher. It is the season… I do miss my old local in Hitchin where we knew a chap who kept us well supplied with pheasants, and other beasties, throughout the appropriate seasons. It feels a bit wrong buying oven-ready birds. But 8 quid for a brace without having to do the tedious plucking and messy gutting isn’t bad, you’ll pay more for a good chicken yielding a little less meat. While they’re “game” I don’t really think of pheasant as a “wild” bird. Almost all will have been cage raised, when you get them their crops are full of grain, and they really aren’t “gamey” – you need to give them at least a fortnight hanging to get any real decent gamey flavour. For the most part pheasant are best thought of as equivalent to a fine outdoor reared chicken, with an edge more flavour – especially around the fatty areas. If you have a good source then sometimes you’ll be lucky enough to get one of last season’s birds that has been roaming free for a year… deluxe! (Best Coq au Vin ever – or Coq au Bière!)

Anyway – the pheasant put me in mind of my old Poacher’s Pheasant Stew recipe, and I figured it was about time I did some beery cooking for this old blog thing. I’ve done beer brined chicken before and I figured: why not pheasant?

The Useful Content: Brining Your Bird

I work with a simple target 5% salt solution when brining like this, it’s hard to over-salt the bird at this strength but the solution is strong enough to have the desired affect. The recipe below is for just 1 litre of brine, as this plus one pheasant fits nicely into a 1.9 litre clip-seal container I have (see photo). You can easily make & add more brine if needed.

TPreparing to brine pheasanthe Brine:

  1. Measure 50g of sea salt into a container.
  2. Add 100ml of hot water from a kettle and dissolve salt.
  3. Pour in a pint of beer – something not too bitter, a rich golden ale is good.
  4. Top up with cold water to make a litre of solution.

The Beer: The beer I chose for this was a take-home pint of The Brew Company “Simcoe (3.8%) from my local, a light ale with very grapefruity flavour notes (thus it must be craft!). I’d have preferred something with a bit more malt richness in it, but there were only a couple of other ales on and one was a stout (too dark IMO) and the other too bitter.

[Update 2014-03-15: I repeated this recipe using a bottle of Badger Blanford Flyer plus a bottle of Brain’s Barry Island IPA. Both beers I’d bought two of and discovered once was enough… too sweet. The brine worked brilliantly making for a very tasty pheasant with no hint of bitterness.]

The Salt: I used Maldon Sea Salt, posh stuff but the only thing I have handy that doesn’t have “anti-caking agent” in it. When brining a general rule of thumb that I’ve picked up from my reading is to find a “plain” salt without additives. I’ve never actually tried brining with a salt that has anti-caking agent in it though, I expect it’d probably work out fine.

Other Flavours: If you like add other flavour ingredients to this at the start with the salt. Bay leaves, juniper berries, a bit of rosemary, cracked black pepper, some crushed garlic… any of the “usual” aromatics. It helps if you give them a good crush or crumple. I’ve stuck with just beer because I was interested in how “beery” the bird would end up.

Pheasant in brineBrine It: Pop your pheasant into a container or suitably sized zip-lock bag and cover with brine. Ensure it is fully submerged. I’ve put a small plastic container under the lid of the bigger one to force the bird into the brine. If you need more solution to cover your bird then make it up as 5:100 salt to water ratio. I.e. 500g (ml) or water (and/or beer) plus 25g of salt.

Time: Give the bird at least 24 hours in the brine, I’ve done a chicken for 48 hours before and it turned out fine. In fact with a bigger bird 48 hours might be better than 24.

So… here’s one I prepared earlier… remove the bird from the brine and voilà! Brined pheasant. You can now do with this whatever you want. It’ll work jointed and braised, braised whole, or simply roasted. Basically, pick a suitable pheasant recipe that you like the sound of, roasting is where the brining really has the most marked positive results. Read on for what did with my brined pheasant…

Roast beer-brined pheasant…
… with roast veg, garlicy bacon cavolo nero, and beery walnut bread sauce.

Dinner ready for service...

What you need… in general:

  • Beer! Just a splash here and there – you can drink the rest. :)
    (Avoid the very dark and very bitter.)
  • A bit of cooking oil, salt, and pepper as required.

Dinner... before assembly.

Roast ingredients…for the roast:

  • A whole beer-brined pheasant (as per above).
  • Four and a half slices of unsmoked streaky bacon.
    (Other half is used in the cavolo nero.)
  • A cup of chicken stock (game stock would be good, veal stock would do).
  • Four cloves of garlic – thinly sliced.
  • 6 juniper berries – well squashed.
  • A couple of sticks of celery – 5mm dice.
  • A medium brown onion – 5mm dice.
  • Roasting veg, all peeled and diced into chunks about as big as the end of an average sized thumb!  (Well, about an inch by half an inch.)  Put them in a bowl and toss with a little olive oil (or other variety) until lightly coated. I used:
    • Two medium parsnips
    • Two carrots
    • Half a swede
    • A handful of baby carrots

Beery walnut bread-sauce ingredients…for the beery walnut bread-sauce:

  • A slice of good firm bread – I’ve used a pretty rustic sourdough.
  • Some milk.
  • Some walnuts – about 50g will do, chopped to “breadcrumb” consistency.
  • A 20g knob of butter.
  • Half a small brown onion – finely diced (2mm).
  • A small garlic glove – crushed/grated/pasted.
  • 2 juniper berries – squashed and chopped

Garlicy bacony cavolo nero ingredients...…for the garlicy bacon cavolo nero:

  • One cavolo nero, or a suitable amount of leaves – with stems stripped out.
  • Half a rasher of streaky bacon – finely sliced.
  • About 20g of butter.
  • A small clove of garlic – crushed/grated/pasted.

At least an hour in advance, put your firm bread into a bowl (cut/tear it if needed) and douse with just enough milk to soak it.

Pre-prep all the ingredients as described above.

Get the roast going: Preheat your oven to 230°C. Roughly chop two strips of streaky bacon and sizzle in a little oil. I do this directly in my cast iron baking dish. When the bacon is just beginning to brown toss in the diced onion and celery and sizzle this until the celery and onion is just lightly browning as well. At this point pour in the chicken stock and half a cup of the beer. Use the liquid to scrape off any browned-on residue, add the garlic and juniper berries, and bring this lot to simmering point. Now you can turn off the heat and place the pheasant in the middle of the roasting-tin breast-side-up. Bard the pheasant with a couple more strips of streaky bacon and pack the vegetables around the bird. Now into the oven with it – turning the oven down to 180°C immediately. Set a timer for 45 minutes.

Brown BaconAdd onion and celery...Add stock and beer...Ready to go in the oven...

Make the beery walnut bread-sauce: Lightly brown the walnut crumbs in a small saucepan, add the knob of butter and the onion. Cook on low heat for 2 minutes to just soften the onion. Add the garlic and juniper berries – which have both been crushed and finely chopped. Soften the spices for a minute before adding the milk-soaked bread and any milk with it, roughly tear this up. Heat and stir/mash to combine in the bread – the sauce should thicken considerably. Wet it with some additional milk if it isn’t a paste already. Add a splash of beer at a time, tasting as you go with an aim to get a beery flavour without undue bitterness. As you’re doing this you can also add salt to taste, which can balance the bitterness. As the sauce simmers it will continue to thicken, once you’re happy with the flavour imparted by the beer start adding milk instead in order to bring the sauce to a suitable consistency (which is up to you really, I aimed for a “heapable” paste). Put a lid on it and set it aside somewhere warm.

Sourdough...Milk-soaking sourdough...Bread being mashed in...Sauce consistency....

Turn your attention back to the roast: By this stage your roast has probably reached 45 minutes. Remove from the oven, I checked the internal temp deep between the leg and the body – 65°C, fine. Remove the bird from the baking tray and place aside on a warmed plate. Toss the vegetables in the roasting dish to get a bit of moistness on them and pop them back in the oven. They’ll probably need at least another 20 minutes until they’re suitably cooked. Optional: Take the bacon off, rub the breast with a little butter, place the bird under a low grill and carefully brown the breast. This isn’t just cosmetic, but it makes more of a cosmetic difference than a flavour difference – thus optional. Place the bird breast-side-down in its warmed bowl, putting the bacon next to it, cover with foil and put somewhere warm to rest. (I popped it into the top-oven, which is nicely warm while the veg are still roasting.)

Pheasant is roasted...Pheasant breast is browned...Pheasant is resting...

Fry up the cavolo nero: Simple: steam the leaves in a colander over boiling water until “tender” (a couple of minutes). Let them cool a little before chopping roughly. In a fry-pan lightly brown the streaky bacon in a smear of oil. Pop in the nugget of butter and melt this then add the garlic. Let the garlic sizzled just a little, 15 seconds is plenty, then put the cavolo nero in and toss vigorously to coat the leaves in garlicy bacony buttery goodness. Done!

Steaming cavolo neroChopping steamed cavolo nero...Frying garlic in butter...Garlicy bacony cavolo nero!

Time to “plate up”: The roast veg should be done by now, so we’re ready to serve. How you present this is up to you. I’d flip the bird back to breast-side-up, pop the bacon back on top, and take the lot to the table as-is and carve & dish-out to warmed plates at the table. The bread-sauce may need a little warming through before going to the table. On the plate I’ve simply put down a sample of each item, a small bowl of the bread sauce, and the beery juices from the pan with celery & onion are drizzled here and there.

Served with Durham Brewery's EvensongServe, of course, with some good beer. If you’ve used take-home beer in the dish like I did it is probably a bit flat & dead by now if you still have any left. I served this dinner with Durham Brewery “Evensong” (5%)… which was a perfect match to a rich game dinner. The beer has a solid toasty backbone, it’s malt-forward and compliments both the season and this autumnal meal. My check-in note for the beer was: “Easy drinking amber ale. Very good with a bit of roast pheasant. Robust yet smooth flavour of maltloaf, cola, and summer hay.” The brined pheasant retained an excellent moistness thanks to the brining and had picked up a subtle beery note, too subtle perhaps, though it seemed more distinct when I tried some cold the next day. The beery notes were more to the fore in the bread sauce and pan juices and really are best described as “beery” – no fine nuances. It had tended a little to the bitter side in the pan juice, but this was no trouble as this was used sparingly anyway. Overall – a success. I’d like to try brining pheasant with some different beers to test the differences – something like my side-by-side IPA beer batter test, but I really need to invite some folk over to test the results for this one!

Plated up!

Enjoy!