Craft, Imported and Specialty Beers: Old Bobby
Mick Hart’s difficult job of reviewing craft, imported and specialty beers in Kaliningrad
29 August 2026 – Old Bobby Ale – is it what it says it is?
At a time in history when it is no longer possible to define what exactly is British and what is not – for example, people with a different-coloured skin given a piece of paper by the Home Office claiming that they are British may not be anything near so British when compared with some white-faced bloke who can trace his UK family lineage back across decades and centuries.
“Ah, yes,” I hear you say. “But does he own a dinghy?”
Britain today (whatever that is and wherever it is) is littered with (please don’t anticipate me!) legions of impersonators and impersonations.
Men impersonating women and women impersonating men; weird and unnatural pink things impersonating human beings; liberal lefties impersonating intelligence, and may I add, not with conviction; impersonators impersonating themselves; men and women in Number 10 impersonating prime ministers; a police force intent on impersonating a social-worker-public-relations hybrid, often with a worrying political slant; mixed-race adverts impersonating a melting pot dream, a modern fantasy of middle-class Britain in which every loveable actor, irrespective of race, creed or colour, is homogeneously unified by a revisionist version of British values, when sadly the streets outside tell a very different story, but hey ho, as long as it sells a fridge, a bland and boring living-room suite, or a multicultural weekend in Spain, does it really matter? ; and then there is the BBC, The Independent (laughably called), and The Guardian (of what?), all to one impersonating unbelievably comic strip news – nothing which only the dumbest of us could bring ourselves to swallow – but it makes us snigger if nothing else.
And yet, as surreal and unrestrained as this impersonation is, there is one element of British life – although they are trying to squash that too – which remains essentially undiluted, and that one survivor is British beer.
Beer review links:
[Butauty] [Kanapinis (light)] [Kanapinis (dark)]
[Keptinis Farmhouse][Bistrampolio] [387 Osobaya Varka][Double Mother T.]
[Tapkoc Belgian Blond Ale] [Evening in Bruges] [Primator Double 24 beer]
There are a number of distinguishing characteristics that set British beer, by which we mean ‘real ale’, apart from its worldwide cousins. For a start, it is top fermented, meaning that during fermentation yeast at warmer temperatures rises to the top of the liquid, whereas lager is bottom fermented (you thought that might be the case!). Once in the cask (barrel), British beer undergoes secondary fermentation and natural conditioning. When it is ready to be drawn from the cask, it is done so by mechanical means with the help of a hand-pulled beer pump; carbon dioxide is not added. Consequently, British cask-conditioned ale has a reputational low-fizz profile when generically compared to sharply gassy mass-produced lagers. And then there are Fuggles and Goldings, terms with which you may not be familiar. Sounds like a firm of chartered accountants or the names of my two favourite teddies? Not even close, I’m afraid. Fuggles and Goldings are the classic hops to which age-old British beers owe their celebrated taste and guaranteed authenticity.
And now we come to a British-styled beer manufactured by Russia’s Baltika Breweries, which is so keen on emulating Britain’s inimitable beer culture that at 4.5% it has modelled the strength of its brew on British session tipples and has even gone so far as to market and sell the product in British imperial-pint-sized bottles.
Traditional British beer, as distinct from the citrus revolution, which since its inauguration in the 1980s has gained impressive traction among British beer enthusiasts, of whom naturally I am one, is immediately identified by its deep copper to amber colour, flat compared-to-lager appearance and is occupied by tastes predominant in biscuit-like malts and a balanced hoppy bitterness.
Old Bobby Ale – is it what it says it is?
Baltika Breweries’ Old Bobby, not to be confused, as it easily could be, with ‘Old Nobby’, a village gentleman who … well, we haven’t got time to expand on that … has to be awarded at least 6 out of 10 in its quest to impersonate Britain’s real ale, that of the amber variety.
The packaging goes a long way in pushing the image of the product; for example, there’s the Old Bobby name. I am sure you will agree with me that it just wouldn’t have struck the right note had they called it Old Abdul, although that brand is expected soon, and on an industrial scale, from Dover’s Daily Dinghy Brewery. The bottle also carries the image of a ‘dug’ (bow wow, in English and guv gav in Russian) wearing an old flat cap. Is there a suggestion here that this Russian beer comes from up North, from the land of flat hats and whippits, and if that is the general idea, wherefore art thou pigeon shit?
The bottle, as already noted, is the right pint size, and the deep red and intense blue label and the clever use of white-printed text are a livery nod to the Union Jack and therefore to British tradition.
So much for appearances, but as we who come from the UK know, that is, those of us who have been here longer than it takes to get bussed to a free hotel, appearances can be deceptive. “I say, excuse me, old chap, are you sure you are really British?”
In the glass, Old Bobby has the look of an old-fashioned English ale. However, the aroma is a little heavy, accruing to certain ingredients, particularly the malt, which leaps out when the cap is removed – the cap from the bottle, not from the ‘dug’ – like a non-elected Labour prime minister or an Arabian genie in full flight. The effect is so audacious that it nearly knocks your socks off!
In keeping with Britain’s brewing tradition, Old Bobby is top-fermented. Additional Bobby Brownie points are its use of imported pale ale malt, which functions as a foundation ingredient in many British ales.
The flavour of the beer is on its way to authenticity but falls down at various hurdles, for although it impersonates British ales in various selective and commendable ways, its brewing methods and scale of production place it irrefutably within the industrial output category. When all is said and done, it is macro rather than micro-brewed, and the flavour reflects this difference, as the complex notes of real ale are lost in this stringent process. Intense filtration and pasteurisation slim down the fuller body typically associated with many British amber beers (and one could say the size of many British beer drinkers), leaving Old Bobby’s finish a comparatively bland experience. Moreover, Old Bobby’s adherence to the kind of super-charged carbonation almost every lager could be condemned for is seriously at odds with cask-conditioned ales, whose relatively flat consistency is one of its leading hallmarks.
For those of us who were unfortunate enough to have been brought up with the terrible fizz of Watney’s Red Keg Barrel and are still waiting to this day for Double Diamond to work the wonders promised by its advertisers, the voluminous effervescence and pronounced afterburn taste, which are salient features of Old Bobby, might well bring back ambivalent memories of British beer before its rennaisance.
Old Bobby Ale – is it what it says it is?
Old Bobby is not Old Nobby; he’s a man who … well, never mind about him. Old Bobby comes in a bottle that could have been made in Britain, and the bottle contains a pint. The beer is deeply malty and matched in depth by its caramel taste, and providing you have never drunk a pint of handpump-pulled genuine fresh real ale drawn from a British pub beer cellar, Old Bobby’s impersonation is as complementary as it is passable, especially in the absence of a head-to-head evaluation, where ignorance is bliss and being none the wiser deserves to be called a positive virtue.
Impersonation, like mimicry, is one of the highest forms of flattery, and that’s the way that these things work.
😊BOX TICKER’S CORNER
Name of Beer: Old Bobby (English Ale)
Brewer: Baltika Breweries
Where it is brewed: St Petersburg, Russia
Bottle capacity: 1 pint
Strength: 4.5%
Price: 105 roubles (92 pence) [28 August 2026]
Appearance: Coppery amber colour
Aroma: Malty with tinctures of toast, wood and caramel
Taste: Medium malt, sweet to begin with but with a slightly bitter finish
Fizz amplitude: 65%
Label/Marketing: Red and blue with a ‘dug’ on the collar
Would you buy it again? It’s not outside of the bounds of possibility
Beer rating
According to Emalt, the brewer had this to say about Old Bobby when it was launched:
“Old Bobby is a beer brewed according to traditional English recipes. England is a country with a rich history of brewing, and British ales are known worldwide as an essential part of any good English pub,” said Lyudmila Yakushina, Brand Director, Licensed Beers, Low-Alcohol Beverages & Non-beer Brands at Baltika Breweries.
“Currently the only ales sold widely in Russia are expensive imported brands. Old Bobby Ale will be the first ale brewed in Russia in the best of British traditions and sold throughout the country,” she added. [03 November, 2010]
Webpage cited: https://www.e-malt.com/mnewsasp/news.asp?Command=ArticleShow&ArticleID=18015
Wot other’s say [Comments on Old Bobby ale from the internet, unedited]
🤔I had the impression that it was as much an ale as Belfast is a stout. [Comment: Belfast is a stout, isn’t it?]
😊 Very flavorful beer, great drinkability, hop aroma is very volatile, disappearing quickly. The flavor is not very intense but pleasing and contributes to drinkability. [Comment: A satisfied customer.]
😐 A very good beer to drink, but it can’t be considered a benchmark within the style.
It has a slightly hoppy aroma and a sweet taste with some strong woody notes and a slightly smoky hint. With a fleeting head, it’s a beer with good drinkability and nothing more. [Comment: Some would argue, but never a beer enthusiast, that this is all a beer is and all that it will ever be.]
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