Tag Archives: beer is a popular drink in Russia

Craft Garage Kaliningrad a Pit Stop for Good Beer

Arty Crafty it is and all the better for it!

17 April 2024~ Craft Garage Kaliningrad a Pit Stop for Good Beer

On the same evening that we happened upon the Beer Bar on Prospect Mira and Bar Sovetov, we stumbled upon and into Craft Garage. You’ve guessed it! Whereas it could be argued that my MOT was long overdue, that I was urgently in need of a rebore and my big ends had gone, Craft Garage is not that sort of place.

In spite of the name, the service that Craft Garage provides is strictly beer related. Why else would I beer there? (Ho! Ho!) The clue lies in the ‘Craft’ part of the name. Craft standing for ‘Craft Beer Bar’ ~ crafty, ay!

Craft Garage Kaliningrad

The trend for this type of bar, as opposed to a fully fledged traditional pub, gained popularity in the UK in response to the micro-brewery boom and the inherent advantages of low start-up and maintenance costs together with ~ as the bars are usually small ~ a means of avoiding or at least diminishing the outrageously iniquitous business rates ~ a robber baron tax, which, not unlike death duties, is totally unjustified and is the current primary cause (bar one🙊) of the decay of Britain’s high streets.

The trend for such bars in Kaliningrad, whilst not motivated by the same factors, has gathered pace in recent years, as the taste and therefore the market for beer in general shows an exponential increase, decreasing the sales gap of old between Russia’s flagship vodka.

With my fan belt slipping and my radiator running dry, I was pleased to learn that not only was stumbling into Craft Garage an excellent idea, but that the bar dispensary was in stumbling distance itself, ie just inside the door.

Behind the bar, a youngish chap presided over a chalkboard containing beers of sufficient quantity and with enough interesting names to verily make one’s moustache curl. I’d left mine at home, but the barman’s made up for it. He had one of those Salvador Dali jobs, and the beer was certainly working.

As Salvador Dali was not listed among the range of beers on offer, and I didn’t know how to say in Russian ‘Which beer should I drink to grow a moustache like yours?’, I decided to play it safe, plumping for a beer recently tried and tested at bar Forma, which goes by the name of Kristoffel. It’s a nice name and a nice beer.

Craft Garage is not full of old engine parts, grease monkeys and the smell of spilt fuel and tyres; it is a well-oiled hip joint, suitably decorated and furnished around the novel theme that it has adopted. Its name and image lend themselves admirably to the continued restaurant and bar interest in the nuts and bolts ‘industrial look’, of which there are two categories. Both are shabby chic, but one is more shabby than chic, and Craft Garage occupies the top-drawer end of the chic curve. Excuse me, I am going to use the word ‘plush’.

For example, there is nothing shabby about the brick-effect walls, the cutaway oil drum chairs, the framed exploded vehicle-engine diagrams, the polished tables and bar area. In fact, polished is another good word, as everything in Craft Garage is as clean and sparkling as the pampered plugs of your favourite Rolls Royce’ engine. And whilst the floor is designer distressed, it is completely free of skidmarks.

The vintage accoutrements are, of course, less believable than a black Dr Who, but the willing suspension of disbelief works better for me in this case than my analogous reference. Moreover, Craft Garage has the advantage of allowing you to travel back in time with the company of your choosing, and whilst you can and must fault woke, you cannot fault Craft Garage.

A complete oil change (which you will need if you have spent half a lifetime drinking Watney’s) starts from 300 roubles.

There’s regular and premium, thus every engine is catered for, even the high-performance kind, and as every beer comes complete with a not-to-be-sneezed-at octane rating, when you finally reach the finishing line you can be sure of feeling well tuned up.

Craft Garage, the place to go when you want a night on the pistons!

Mick Hart & Inara outside Craft Garage in Kaliningrad

Bochkarev British Amber Beer in Kaliningrad

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Published: 31 August 2022 ~ Bochkarev British Amber Beer in Kaliningrad

Article 22: Bochkarev British Amber

My wife bought this beer for me.

“What have I done to deserve this?” I asked.

Then, when I had drunk it, I asked the same question: “What have I done to deserve this?” ~ but in a different tone.

The important thing is that we wouldn’t be allowed to drink it in the UK, at least not unless we wrapped the bottle in a flag of a different country, as the Union Jack has been radicalised by oversensitive ethnics operating under the auspices of liberal-left self-culture loathers.

Recalling how racist it was to fly the national flag during the Queen’s Platinum Jubilee, I wasted no time in removing the cap from the bottle, took a quick whiff, made a couple of notes, decanted it into my beer glass and hid the bottle behind a nearby chair. And then I remembered that I was not in the UK but drinking beer in Russia, where, oddly enough, nobody seemed to mind if my bottle displayed a Union Jack or not.

I must say that whenever I see bottled beers which are flag- or otherwise-affiliated with countries of distant origin, particularly western countries and more specifically England, I tend to avoid them or, failing that, buy them out of curiosity but rarely make the mistake again.

Thus, I remind you that it was not I who purchased this ‘anglicised’ beer, but my wife. Not that I am complaining: Wives who buy husbands beer are why they are wives in the first place, not left on the shelf like Watneys; they exhibit a finely tuned awareness of the status quo and a responsibility to it that makes anything, even anything vaguely feministic, almost acceptable and often excusable. But as redeemable as such commendable actions are, what wives don’t know about beers you couldn’t fit into Biden’s mind, so let that be an end to the matter.

Relying on the same nose that I was born with, rather than a sex-changed appendage, whilst making allowances for its toxic masculinity, it had me know that the Beer that I was smelling was a hoppy thing overly mixed with blackberries and infused with the essence of Vimto.

The mixture poured into the glass rapidly. I was thirsty. It gave a froth and then quickly took it back again, like a present I didn’t deserve, and what was left on the sides of the glass couldn’t be bothered to stay.

The first sip was like thrusting your head into a mixed bag of fruit in search of hops ~ “Come out with your hops up, we know you’re in there!” And sure enough, after some coaxing the hops came out, yet not with a white but purple flag. Can you drink a colour? The chemical fruit intensifies as it descends in the gullet, yet although the hue is a faint light amber your mind is fixed on purple. I believe it’s what’s called a trick of the light.

Bochkarev British Amber Beer in Kaliningrad

At a very sensible 4.3% OG, alcohol content can play no part in delivering the firm impression that you are consuming a very sweet energy drink packed with glucose and fructose or that, whilst you were looking the other way in search of a real beer, someone snuck up behind you and stuck a stick of rock in your glass. Similar things can happen, I’m told, if you turn your back in Brighton.

With this exception noted, I have to say that Bochkarev British Amber is possibly the most unBritish beer that I have ever tasted, and if this is Heineken at its best then thank the lord that they have Fd off from Russia (ie, Finally decided to go).

I do not pretend to speak for everyone, since your taste is probably different to mine and mine is probably better. Nevertheless, Bochkarev British Amber could explain why certain Russian celebrities took European holidays at the coincidental times that they did and that when Heineken took a similar holiday they returned to the safety of a decent beer. Like the death of Freddie Mills in 1960s’ London, Bochkarev British Amber ~ what it is made of, why they bother to stew it and why they call it British ~ may forever remain a mystery.

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: Bochkarev British Amber
Brewer: Heineken Brewery
Where it is brewed: St Petersburg
Bottle capacity: 1.35 litre
Strength: 4.3%
Price: It cost me about 187 roubles (£2.53 pence) [at time of writing!]
Appearance: A shade amberish
Aroma: It doesn’t smell like beer
Taste: It doesn’t taste like beer
Fizz amplitude: 4/10
Label/Marketing: Counterfeit British
Would you buy it again? No
Marks out of 10: 2

*Note that the beers that feature in this review series only include bottled beer types that are routinely sold through supermarket outlets and in no way reflect the variety of beer and/or quality available in Kaliningrad from speciality outlets and/or through bars and restaurants.

Lidskae Staryi Zamak Beer in Kaliningrad

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Published: 30 June 2022 ~ Lidskae Staryi Zamak Beer in Kaliningrad

Article 20: Lidskae Staryi Zamak

Note: Many thanks to Mr … er, I think his name was Mr Sober, who wrote to inform me that the bottle photographs originally included in this post bore no connection whatsoever to the beer that I was writing about. What better recommendation for Lidskae Staryi Zamak beer could you ask for!

Needing an excuse to drink beer is not an affliction from which I personally suffer, but with all these articles in the UK media obsessing on the possibility of WWIII and nuclear strikes, I thought it would be prudent of me to take cover in my local shop and dodging incoming sanctions come out with a bottle of beer, or two.

Leonard Cohen named his valedictory album, You want it darker. But I didn’t. I was looking for a light beer, which is to say a light-in-colour beer. The strength was of no importance, but I did want something with taste.

Having enjoyed the Belarus-brewed beer Lidskae Aksamitnae, I opted to try the light version, Lidskae Staryi Zamak. If I had wanted a strong beer, I would not have been disappointed, as Staryi Zamak weighs in at an impressive 6.2%, which is higher in alcohol content than its ‘black as the ace of spades’ brother.

They tell me that this is a bottom fermenting beer, which could mean different things to different people, but for beer afficionados and brewing types, this information has important implications, which neither you nor I will dwell on because we are far too busy taking off the bottle top and smelling.

“Hello, is that Nose?”

“Hello, Nose here.”

“Tell me Nose, what do you detect?”

“Beer!”

“Yes, well, that’s a good start. Anything else?”

“It’s pungent …”

“Still talking about the beer?”

“Yes. No, wait a minute, it’s grainy; yes, definitely grainy. No, hold hard, its … it’s fragrant, a teeny-weeny bit fragrant … Oh, what a to do! It’s so hard to smell anything with the wokist stench of fear rising from Elon Musk’s purchase of Twitter …”

“What’s that, Nose. You’re cracking up. Did you say musky or melon?”

“Bottom fermenting …”

“We’ve done that one. I know, what about all three?”

“Ay?”

“Pungent, grainy and fragrant?”

“If you like. But he’s still a transphobe!”

Hmm, must be a liberal-left nose.

We won’t ask liberal-left tongue about taste. It will be far too busy in the coming weeks now that Elon Musk is taking over Twatter.

Lidskae Staryi Zamak Beer

To recap: here we have a 6.2% pale-straw coloured, bottom-fermenting lager, with a pungent, grainy, fragrant liberal-left nose.

Moving on to taste, all these things are present (except the liberal left, thank heavens). Lidskae Staryi Zamak is an interesting blend of flavours, sweet and bitter at one and the same time but rhapsodically blended with no ragged edges. The finish is light and hoppy, although the aftertaste becomes, owing no doubt to the strength, substantial, not heavy exactly but mature and rounded ~ shaped largely like most women after they’ve gone through the menopause.

Corsets nice to drink with food, but have you noticed how irritating some beer reviewers can be in this respect? It’s all very well to say that this beer or that beer goes well with whole roasted peacock, stuffed venison and absent McDonald’s but unless you are Henry the Eighth such lightweight delicacies may not be at hand (which is especially true of McDonald’s). I’ll settle for saying that you won’t go far wrong with a big bag of nuts, a packet of flavoured crisps and a bowl of olives.

Lidskae Staryi Zamak, not to be confused with You Big Hairy Wassock, which is a beer that is drunk in the North of England whilst wearing a pigeon and fancying flat caps (latterly scarves more likely), is a good strong and full-bodied beer but not so overpowering that it does not possess the potential to bring out the best in good-flavoured foods and selected piquant snacks.

Lidskae Staryi Zamak Beer in Kaliningrad — Lidskae Staryi Zamak Beer

I like this beer as much if not more than I liked its black sister (or was that it’s black brother?), Lidskae Aksamitnae. I enjoyed it. It clung to the glass, as I did, and after a couple of bottles I also clung to the stair rail.

I was head over heels, with delight that is, which is a big improvement, I’m sure you’ll agree, on the alternative arse over head. And the overheads are by no means bad at 197 a bottle (we are talking payment in roubles, of course!).

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: Lidskae Staryi Zamak
Brewer: Leedska piva
Where it is brewed: Lida, Belarus
Bottle capacity: 1.5 litre
Strength: 6.2%
Price: It cost me about 197 roubles (2.20 pence) [at time of writing!]
Appearance: Pale
Aroma: Subtle mix of grain and herbs
Taste: Full bodied, rounded
Fizz amplitude: 3/10
Label/Marketing: Traditional
Would you buy it again? I am quite sure I will
Marks out of 10: 8

OXOTA Beer in Kaliningrad

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Published: 30 March 2022 ~ OXOTA Beer in Kaliningrad

Article 19: OXATA

I have often seen it, but I’ve never tried it, but when I saw a chap in front of me paying for two bottles of it at the local supermarket checkout, I decided that it was high time that I did. I’m talking about Ohota Krepkoye beer (OXOTA beer), a strong Russian beer from the Heineken Brewery* in St Petersburg with an OG of 8.1% and a label affirming real men, and now me, drink it.

The bottle looks as though its 1.5 litres, but when you check the small print you find that it is 0.15 litres short of the full 1.5. I know a lot of people like that.

The label tells you straight away that this is no namby-pamby, Nancy-boy brew. The bold shadow-highlighted 3-D typeface charges across the bottle against a deep red sash and above it is a man who has an awesome chest with a rifle slung over his shoulder. If you have ever harboured a secret desire to appear really incongruous, try carrying a bottle of this beer whilst attending a gay parade!

Before I had taken my first sip, I knew instinctively that this was the sort of beer that you could very easily get pissed on but not take the piss out of. Excuse my professional beer critic’s language.

The aroma struck me initially as though possessing a spicey, citrus twang, but, before decanting into my trusty Soviet glass, I paused a moment, a little affectedly I thought, took another whiff and changed my mind. It was now, I opined, decidedly sweet and disconcertingly antiseptic.

It poured into the glass with a disappointingly weak head which dissipated rapidly. Once out of the bottle, I was relieved to find that the clinical smell had gone, replaced and overpowered by the sweeter notes.

Not the dark, deep colour I had anticipated but a mid-amber, the beer had, I was surprised to find, not a rich sweet taste but a sweet tart taste laced with a touch of burnt charcoal.

OXOTA Beer in Kaliningrad

The quite glutinous finish gives way to a strong throaty aftertaste, which is not at all unpleasant, and, whilst you secretly wonder how it received a World Beer Award in the ‘Silver’ category, as the medallion on the front of the bottle signifies, there is no doubt in your mind, and also in your mouth, that the brew is persuasively moorish.

Affirmation that this is a real man’s drink is not backward in coming forward. I could feel my liver shrinking and my ego getting bigger with each successive sip.

The heady aftertaste taps into your long-term memory, summoning vague recollections of cautionless drinking sessions undertaken in the first flood of youth. How much of that memory would survive intact should you overdo an OXOTA session really does not bear thinking about.

One thing’s for certain, OXOTA is a good buy if you want to say goodbye and rather quickly to that irritating condition otherwise known as sobriety.

Footnote:🦶 I picked up the rumour from somewhere that the Heineken Brewery is one of those companies that virtue signalled their allegiance to the United States-led globalist war on Russia by buggering off. But take heart, Hart, I said. Buggering-off breweries mean a larger share of the market for those that are smart and don’t budge and a chance to expand and diversify for those that seize the initiative.😁

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: OXOTA (Ohota Krepkoye)
Brewer: Heineken
Where it is brewed: St Petersburg
Bottle capacity: 1.35 litre
Strength: 8.1%
Price: It cost me about 137 roubles (1.06 pence)
Appearance: Mid-amber
Aroma: Predominantly sweet
Taste: Tart, not excessively sweet
Fizz amplitude: 3/10
Label/Marketing: A big strapper with a large rifle
Would you buy it again? If the need so takes me
Marks out of 10: 6

Cesky Medved Beer in Kaliningrad

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Published: 19 January 2022 ~ Cesky Medved Beer in Kaliningrad

Article 18: Cesky Medved

What’s not to like about a bear drinking a pint of beer? It’s so Russian. Look at him there on the label, that big cheeky grin and that foaming, frothing tankard. But wait! There’s something not quite right! It’s nothing to do with the bear. We all know that bears have big cheeky grins and drink beer. No, it’s the big beery head. Not the big beary head, but the soap-sudded head on top of the beer.

You see, Cesky Medved does not pour like that. It has no gargantuan head, in fact, it has very little head of which to speak. In fact, it’s as flat as your hat.

Ahh, that explains it, both the grin and the froth: our loveable old bear is not drinking Cesky Medved at all, he’s supping away at something completely different.

Cesky Medved Beer in Kaliningrad

Here is a quote about Cesky Medved that was posted to a beer-review website. The website is Russian and (surprise, surprise) most of the comments posted there are in Russian. This comment may have lost something in its Google translation, but I am sure you get the drift:

“The aroma [of Cesky Medved] is artificial, candy-fruity. That’s what cheap fruity beer drinks smell like. (Malt extract?) … the same, sweet with sourness and notes of hop extract or oil … I don’t know what they use there, but the beer is very bad.”

To be brutally frank, this beer smells like … I don’t know what? When I first lifted the bottle lid and attempted to whiff it, I thought for a moment that I had forgotten to take off my face mask. (Please don’t mock. I am certain that there are some of you out there, and you know who you are, who live in your masks day and night!) But gradually, with the bottle shoved up my hooter as you would a decongestant, a pungency filtered through.

I would not describe the smell of Cesky Medved as sweet or ‘candy-fruity’, but rather more on the sour side with an indiscernible back-twang, the sort of thing you sometimes get when you are offered a drink of something and the cup that you are drinking out of has not been washed up properly.

What had not smelt strong in the bottle, however, had an accumulative effect as it was served to the glass. Thereupon, the more subtle scents evaporated, leaving in their wake a certain lingering muskiness.

As the beer poured hazy and as flat as a road-killed rabbit, the appearance and smell conjoined to produce a disconcerting thought, that of a cobbled-together recipe strained through last week’s gym sock. It did not help any that, with this thought in mind, just as I was about to take my first sip, there was Jimmy Saville peering at me from Google Images all sweaty in his track suit. “How’s about that, then?”

What was it that he had carved into his gravestone in Scarborough before some well-meaning soul scrubbed it out? Ahh yes, I remember, “It was good whilst it lasted”! I am sure that this reference was to life in general and not to a glass of Cesky Medved.

I must say that with no head, medium fizz, a dish-water haziness and the smell of Saville’s socks, somehow Cesky Medved managed to be drinkable. Certainly, for the nominal amount that I paid for the pleasure, 110 roubles (£1.06) , I was not about to complain. No, I thought, I would save that for later, when, for example, I write this review.

My last word on the subject is that there are exemplary beers, excellent beers, good beers, satisfactory beers, tolerable beers, insipid beers and bad beers. This bear wasn’t that bad.

It’s a bear-faced lie!!

#########################

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: Cesky Medved
Brewer: Baltika Breweries
Where it is brewed: Yaroslavl, Russia
Bottle capacity: 1.35 litre
Strength: 4.6%
Price: It cost me about 110 roubles (1.06 pence)
Appearance: Light, unfiltered
Aroma: You could call it that
Taste: Acquired
Fizz amplitude: 4/10
Label/Marketing: A cheeky, grinning bear
Would you buy it again? Never ever say never
Marks out of 10: 3.5

Oak & Hoop Beer in Kaliningrad

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Article 11: Oak & Hoop beer

Published: 31 January 2021

I developed a taste for beer when I was about 14 years old, about the time that they turned a blind eye to my age and began to let me through the doors of the village local. Some might say that is a very tender age to be supping and that I should be ashamed of myself, but, of course, I am not. The one thing I have learnt, or subscribed to, as I approach the senior years of my life is that there is nothing so true as the philosophical adage, ‘live life whilst you are young’. I know this to be the touchstone of our brief earthly existence because now that I am older I cannot drink half as much beer as I could when I should not have been drinking it. Ahh, happy days: vitals in their unsullied prime and Courage Tavern on tap. It was “What your right arm’s for”, or so went the advertising slogan, possibly to remind those pub-going blokes back in the 1970s that it was not just something with a fist on the end that you threw after several pints.

But we must leave reminiscences of real pubs, real men and the days of pre-real ale to focus on the latest addition to my bottled beers of Kaliningrad review, which today features another one of those offerings served up in squat dumpy bottles.

All of the beers in this series of reviews are available through general supermarkets, and this is no exception.

Oak & Hoop Beer in Kaliningrad

Oak & Hoop beer comes from the same brewery, the Trisosensky Plant, from which the beer Soft Barley derives, which was the subject of my previous review, and, as with the previous review, I have only good things to say.

First off, you’ve just got to love the advertising. Not only a small plastic beer barrel, but one adorned with a crafted piece of card attached to the pouring top and draped Mason’s apron style from head to toe. The alluring impression is instantaneously craft beer. A crafted piece of card craftily cut and composed to convince the consumer that what lies within is craft. The image of mallet, barrel and stool, all in wood, naturally, with vintage-leaning display type and mellow beer-brown colours all contribute handsomely to the presentation, promise and promotion of a traditional, quality beverage. Oh, and lookee here, notice the awards attained, signified by the august presence of three gold medallions.

I had to buy it. I had to drink it. I liked it.

NOTE: More information on the brewery in my previous article Soft Barley beer in Kaliningrad

I deduced from the first nasal observation a seductive compilation enticingly in favour of roasted malts and caramel, which corresponded perfectly with my long-standing prejudice for brews whilst though they may not be ales as such yet display certain defining characteristics making them more akin to ale than their pallid pilsner counterparts, for which I make no secret of courting less than great affection.

But we are not here to sniff it. We will leave that pleasure for wine drinkers and let them spit it out.

**Award-winning Oak & Hoop beer in Kaliningrad, Russia**

As first tastes go, there was no doubt in my mind that I had spent my 147 rubles wisely. The caramel and malt bouquet delivered the taste promised by the aroma. Rounded and mellow with just a hint of bitterness, the sweet incipience gives way to a dry, satisfying, lingering taste, the parity of which makes strange bedfellows out of any critical notion that the two could live apart.

This subtle liaison discreetly belies its AVG manliness, which, at 4.9%, packs a not unreasonable clout, but then let’s not be bashful, it’s what your right arms for.

Oak & Hoop Beer in Kaliningrad

If I have learnt anything about beer it is that the first likeable sip does not necessarily equate in taste to love at first sight; you may like, you may love, or imagine you do, but if it be love that willingly takes you happily to the end of the glass, then be sure that it will be lust that brings you back for more.

We are continually reminded, bordello fashion, that pleasures in life have to be paid for, and the pleasure of Oak & Hoop is worth every penny and every ruble, so go for it before you get too old!

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: Oak & Hoop
Brewer: Trisosensky brewery
Where it is brewed: Ulyanovsk and Dimitrovgrad, Russia
Bottle capacity: 1.5 litres
Strength: 4.9%
Price: It cost me about 137 rubles (£1.32)
Appearance: Pale golden
Aroma: Hops & caramel
Taste: Subtle, attractive blend of sweet & dry with caramel
Fizz amplitude: 5/10
Label/Marketing: Traditional
Would you buy it again? I intend to.
Marks out of 10: 9

NOTE: More information on the brewery in my previous article Soft Barley beer in Kaliningrad

Soft Barley beer in Kaliningrad Russia

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Article 10: Soft Barley beer

Published: 14 December 2020

None of us want to be told that we are going soft, do we? But, unless you are one of these old-fashioned he-men who pumps weights, never cries and walk around as if their arms don’t fit, there is nothing wrong with a little bit of mellowness, when the mood so takes you, which is not why I chose Soft Barley as the latest in a succession of bottled beers widely available through Kaliningrad supermarkets as an aid to my research.

Among the all-shapes-and-sizes 1.5 litre beer bottles that congregate enticingly on Kaliningrad’s shop shelves, the ones that really stand out from the crowd are, in fact, the simplest. They are squat, fat, dumpy-looking things, shaped purposefully to resemble small beer barrels. They are to beer advertising what Body Shop is to shampoos and body lotions, their simple packaging and minimalist presentation emphasising good, natural, salt-of-the-earth products, free from artificial additives: Nature’s best at its best.

When all’s said and done, that’s quite a gob full to live up to and, whilst the advertising works a treat, the question is does the product fulfil the promise?

Soft Barley beer in Kaliningrad Russia

Soft Barley has a soft natural label ~ note the ears of corn ~ and when you take the top off the bottle what do you get? Sniff! Sniff! Nothing really. Unless I am losing my sense of smell (no, let’s rephrase that symptom quickly!) ~ unless my olfactory senses deceive me, there is no distinctive aroma other than, perhaps, a faintly discernible ‘softness’.

When poured, this underwhelming neutrality does not escape from the glass. The beer fizzes, an ephemeral head appears, retreats and then dissolves. This is only depressing if you like ‘a big creamy ‘ed on your pint’, but I am not from Yorkshire, so I don’t.

Nevertheless, from the first sip to the last the taste is consistently palatable. There are no sharp notes to undermine the ‘soft’, as in subtle, and almost any corn bitterness is reduced to a hint, playing second fiddle to the rounded buttery overtones.

This beer is not, by Russian standards, a strong brew; if it was, I suppose they would have called it ‘Strong Barley’, but neither at 4.2% is it limp-wristed. It has just enough bottle, taste and flavour to make it the perfect complement to light snacks and ‘bitings’, an à la carte beer which speaks to me of warm summer afternoons, picnic tables and straw hats, although, being a bit of a renegade, I can close my ears and carry on drinking it until the snow has melted.

Aficionados and advocates of seriously head-banging beers may well pour scorn upon your choice, but pour scorn is not poor corn and drinking Soft Barley does not mean that you are going soft, just that you have a soft spot for the finer beers in life.

ABOUT THE BREWERY
The Trisosensky brewery has a proud and noble brewing history, its origins dating to 1888. Its name comes from the three great pine trees on the idyllic lakeside spot where it was founded by the merchant family Markov.

One of the first Russian breweries to produce beer using European technology, the quality of its products quickly established the company’s reputation at home and facilitated expansion into the export market.

The brewery’s Black, Pilsen, Czech and Vienna beers were particularly held in high regard, so much so that in 1910 the brewery was honoured with the official title ‘Supplier to the Court of His Imperial Majesty’.

Although the Ulyanovsk brewery was assimilated more recently into the company, its brewing history actually pre-dates that of Trisosensky, when Alexander Dmitrievich Sachkov, an honorary citizen of the city of Simbirsk, founded his honey brewery at Ulyanovsk in 1862.

Today, the Trisosensky brewery prides itself on the historic continuity of its classic brewing techniques, brewing traditional beers to traditional recipes using natural ingredients and talented brewers.

Its efforts have garnered it various prestigious awards including: the World Beer Awards; the International Beer Challenge; Gold Awards, the DLG Quality Test for Beer and Mixed Beer Beverages, Frankfurt am Main, 2016; Monde Selection 2017 awards; and awards in the ‘International Tasting Competition’, The Beer Awards 2017.

Soft Barley beer in Kaliningrad Russia

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: Soft Barley
Brewer: Trisosensky brewery
Where it is brewed: Ulyanovsk, Russia
Bottle capacity: 1.5 litres
Strength: 4.2%
Price: It cost me about 127 rubles (£1.31)
Appearance: Pale golden
Aroma: Very nearly silent
Taste: Lightly bitter, mellow, buttery
Fizz amplitude: 6/10
Label/Marketing: Naturalistic
Would you buy it again? I would and I have.
Marks out of 10: 8

Ostmark Beer in Kaliningrad is Top Quality

Top Marks for Ostmark

Published: 15 October 2020 ~ Ostmark Beer in Kaliningrad is Top Quality

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Article 8: Ostmark Strong

My previous review of bottled beer in Kaliningrad, sampled from the brands that can be purchased every day from most supermarkets, was written on 2 September 2020. I could claim that I have not written anything about beer since 2 September 2020 since that is the last time that I had a bottle, but that would be about as believable, not to say as ridiculous, as declaring that I voted to remain in the European Union.

Mick’s Place (aka, Mick’s Attic Bar) has been functioning as normal, but I have drunk elsewhere ~ on the outside seating areas of various bars and hotels and at friends’ houses ~ calculating that as the dark days of winter approach, with them cometh more grim coronavirus news and consequent restrictions, all of which will mean more Attic Bar and less drinking on location.

So, what have I been drinking at home, and have I enjoyed it?

Out of the beers that I have sampled so far, the Belarus beer Lidskae Aksamitnae is my beer of choice. In fact, I would go so far as to say that it wins hands down. Nevertheless, if you were to ask me, and I am sure you will, have I discovered another beer that in taste and quality equals Lidskae Aksamitnae then I would have to say yes ~ and that beer is Ostmark.

Ostmark beer in Kaliningrad

Now, as far as I can tell there are several popular variants of Ostmark. The one that is the subject of my reverence, however, is Ostmark Strong, the ABV (Alcohol by Volume) of which comes in at a not insignificant 7.1%.

I do not buy beers for their strength and, as a matter of fact, when I drink real ale in the UK I usually choose something that is within the range of 4–4.2%. I am happy with that. But Ostmark Strong appeals to me because, whilst it may be a strong-by-alcohol-content beer, it is also strong on taste.

The first test for any beer is the olfactory one. Ostmark Strong has a strong aroma. It hits you as soon as you take the top from the bottle. There is nothing limp-wristed about this brew. It is deep, dark and smokey. If it could wear tattoos, it would be the kind that real men wore, not the arty-farty slate-grey type that are everywhere today and to which even women resort to violate their bodies, as if forgetting that they and their tats will not stay young forever. Alas, for the fleeting fads of fashion and the relentless indifference of the march of time …

Ostmark beer in Kaliningrad

But enough of this idle banter! Into the glass with Ostmark, and what have you got?

You’ve got a dark-coloured beer that settles nicely into the bacal (glass) and whose head does not immediately die, but neither does it sit on top like a foaming ice cream sundae.

The first sip is yummy. It is so yummy that I have to take several more before I can ask myself, flavour? Its caramel and malts, plus a good toasty aftertaste, the type of aftertaste best described as moreish. And this is not an insuperable problem, because once you have finished one glass you can simply pour another.

Ostmark Strong has a good strong label ~ no wishy-washy rainbow colours here! Dark brown, deep red and silver tones complement each other. The design is simple, instantly recognisable and carries with it the hallmark of history.

Ostmark beer in Kaliningrad

Now, Ostmark made its debut in 1910 and was originally brewed in Königsberg, which was, of course, Kaliningrad’s predecessor, but be that as it may, and for all my love for Königsberg, as I had no knowledge of Ostmark’s pedigree when first I purchased and quaffed it, I refute any implication that my judgement may have been swayed by where it was born and when. But, since its history is no longer the mystery that it was when I started out, it would be remiss of me if I did not mention that Ostmark was first brewed at the Brauerei Ostmark Brewery and that after passing through various hands is now produced by the Heineken Group.

Rumour has it that throughout its change of ownership the brew retained its original recipe, and we who love beer and history have no contention with that. But as to where it is brewed today, I am not at liberty to say, because in October 2016 the trail runs cold. It was then that Heineken announced that come the following year its Kaliningrad brewery would close.

Some folk here in Kaliningrad who I have interviewed swear ~ usually at me ~ that Ostmark is still brewed here, and in the same brewery where it has always been brewed, that is here in the city of Kaliningrad, but some say otherwise, others don’t know and still others don’t seem to care, they just buy it and then they drink it.

As Ostmark is not a phantom, as phantoms as a rule do not come with hangovers, wherever Ostmark is secretly brewed I can recommend it, so much so that as I sit here reviewing it, I can honestly say that I would rather be sitting here drinking it.

A word of warning to the uncautious, however: The enticing taste and session-like character of this very fine quality beer belies its superior strength. “Everything in moderation, including moderation,” said Oscar Wilde. And who can doubt his wisdom? But how much of a good thing is too much? Until you try it, you will never know.

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: Ostmark Strong
Brewer: Heineken Group
Where it is brewed: Somewhere
Bottle capacity: 1.35 litres
Strength: 7.1%
Price: It cost me about 136 rubles (£1.36) from our local shop
Appearance: Darky
Aroma: Divinely smoky
Taste: Subtle blend of caramel & malts with an after allegiance
Fizz amplitude: 4/10
Label/Marketing: Just so right
Would you buy it again? As soon as the opportunity arises (update February 2022 ~ bought many times!)
Marks out of 10: 8.5

Ostmark Beer in Kaliningrad

Baltika 3 in Kaliningrad

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Published: 2 September 2020

Article 7: Baltika 3

It is, alas, customary for reviewers of almost anything these days that when confronted with something that they judge negatively to pan the product/experience with such acidity that you might well suspect that they own a moped and live somewhere like Streatham.

Subscribing to the modern misconception that recourse to expletives is the new humour rather than a substitute for lack thereof, these would-be social-media wits ‘gobshite’ it out as if there was no tomorrow, when the real pity is that that they were with us yesterday and are still with us today.

With this misfortune in mind, I shall, like the true English gentleman that I aspire to be, exercise restraint when I say that so far Baltika 3 is, in my opinion, not the best beer that I have drunk since coming to Kaliningrad.

“You don’t want to drink that,” snorted an acquaintance of ours, whilst driving us to the seaside, “It’s traction oil!!”

I used to work in publishing so, naturally, I never believe anything I read or anything anybody says, so when next I went to the supermarket to buy a bottle of beer, what did I do? Exactly, I bought Baltika.

First off, I did not like the bottle, well, not the bottle exactly, rather the label design. It said ‘Baltika 3’, which we will not carp about because that is what it is, but the shimmering blue and steel silver hues made me wonder if the graphic designers had not filched their ‘modern’ look from a motor vehicle advert.

I thought, “this is going to be very metallic, like that other lager ~ how does the advert go? ‘Possibly the nastiest and most metallic lager in the world’”.

It wasn’t. But guess who it is brewed by?

I took the cap off, mainly because I have not yet found an easier way to get to the contents of a bottle ~ as I have said, the bottle was fine ~ and took a poser’s sniff. Even if I had not smelt it before, and I had, because I used to work with heavy-plant machinery, I would recognise traction oil. It would not be fair to say that it did smell like this, but I struggled to determine what it did smell like.

I poured my premiere sample into an old Soviet bacal ~ a dimpled glass tankard ~ recently acquired, and tentatively, and with great trepidation, took my inaugural sip!

Not wanting to be scathing, the beer I had drunk previously, Lidskae Aksamitnae, had been so delectable that the inferior flavour of Baltika 3 could have suffered a severe case of amplification in consequence.

Being the nice chap that I am, I am willing to give Baltika 3 the benefit of this doubt. But I still cannot believe that Baltika is Russia’s most popular beer, and that this claim is out there. In 2018, Baltika 3 Classic received the silver medal in the Pilsner category of the British International Beer Challenge, so not all of my fellow countrymen agree with me on this one.

All I can say is, and all I am willing to say is, that if Baltika 3 is anything to go by, I dread to think what the higher numbers of Baltika beer are like.

I suppose the only way to find out is to drink them.

Life, as they say, is a lottery!

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: Baltika 3
Brewer: Carlsberg Group
Where it is brewed: St Petersburg, Russia
Bottle capacity: 1.5 litres
Strength: 4.8%
Price: It cost me about 160 rubles (£1.62)
Appearance: Pale to light brown
Aroma: Barley malt (I think)
Taste: I am still working on it
Fizz amplitude: 7/10
Label/Marketing: Modernistic
Would you buy it again? I would drink it if it was bought for me

Lidskae Aksamitnae Beer in Kaliningrad

**Mick Hart’s totally biased review of bottled beers* in Kaliningrad (or how to live without British real ale!)**

Published: 20 August 2020 ~ Lidskae Aksamitnae Beer in Kaliningrad

Article 6: Lidskae Aksamitnae

I am most concerned about what is happening in Belarussia (I mean, Belarus) at the moment, not least because I have just discovered Lidskae Aksamitnae, a dark, rich, full-bodied beer with a deeply refreshing flavour.

**Lidskae Aksamitnae Beer in Kaliningrad**

Prejudiced against dark beers, with a proud aversion to the twangy-harp taste of Guinness and generally unseated by the intensified sweetness that seems to be the signature of dark, strong, British ales, I hesitated both in the purchase of Lidskae and, once that threshold had been crossed, the subsequent quaffing of it.

Removing the lid from my 1.5 litre bottle, I sniffed at it gingerly. It did not have a strong treacly smell and, I am glad to say, there were no twangy notes of a suspect brogue nature. What was this aroma that was hurtling up my hooter? Chocolate? Toasty? Someone’s nuts roasting? Whatever it was, I liked it.

Out of the bottle and into my glass it was as black as Brickstun (the name of my neighbour’s cat). But, within seconds of pouring it, an effervescence occurred that brought to the surface a white head, which stood out in stark contrast to the mass from whence it had come. I eyed it with the cautious way one would before entering Taste Alley. Dark beers had always been no-go areas for me, and I knew I was taking a risk. I recalled a stormy night in Portland. I had drunk black beer there and had felt bad for about 80 days.

I took my first sip. What was the verdict? Guilty!! It had only been a thought, but I was clearly inciting beery hatred. Contrary to my expectations, this brew had a rich, malty taste. It was not a riot, not even demonstrative on one’s taste buds. It did not try to sell you something you would rather not have, nor did it mug you. I felt that feeling one must get in taking one’s case to the European Court of Beery Rights and having it ruled in my flavour. I was not just relieved but rewarded ~ disproportionately compensated, for so I secretly thought, by a richness I did not deserve ~ well not for £1.40, which is what the beer had cost.

Lidskae Aksamitnae Beer Belarus — **Belarus beer at its best!** **Lidskae Aksamitnae**

Lidskae Aksamitnae Beer in Kaliningrad

Like most things of value, Lidskae Aksamitnae’s pedigree is firmly rooted in history and in heritage.

As the date on the label testifies, the Lida Beer Brewery began life in 1876. It is one of the oldest breweries in Belarus, the brainchild of Nosel Pupko, and it remained within his family for three generations.

By the turn of the 20^th century, Lidskoe beer, as it was then known, was already a winner in Europe, garnering various awards at respected exhibitions. Come the Soviet period, GOST standards meant standard beer; regional beers were restricted to the republic of its origin. But good news travel fast, as they say, and Lida’s reputation for producing tasty, quality brews somehow got out.

Today, with investment, ideas and technological input from companies in Finland and the Czech Republic, Lidskae beer continues to flourish, collecting international awards as high-class products and, more importantly, retaining and making old fans and new (such as me, the drinking Englishman) who certainly have no qualms when it comes to putting money where their mouths are.

They say you live and learn, and if I have learnt one thing and one thing only from buying and drinking this beer, it is BBM ~ Black Beers Matter!

Quality Belarus Beer — **Lidskae Aksamitnae** – **Gone but not forgotten ..**.

😁TRAINSPOTTING & ANORAKS
Name of Beer: Lidskae Aksamitnae
Brewer: Lidskoe Pivo
Where it is brewed: Belarus
Bottle capacity: 1.5 litres
Strength: 4.8%
Price: It cost me about 136 rubles (£1.40) from Spa (so near and also so far!)
Appearance: As black as your hoody
Aroma: Nutty and toasted
Taste: Smooth, rich, malty with a little sweetness and light bitterness
Fizz amplitude: 4/10
Label/Marketing: Proud heritage
Would you buy it again? Too right!