It only produces 0.7 per cent of the world's hops. Two varieties that have been barnstorming the British beer scene make up less than ten per cent of that crop. So how the hell did New Zealand begin to punch way above its weight in the hop world?

Hops have been in-country since arriving with European settlers in the mid-nineteenth century. Nelson province on the South Island became the industry's cradle, benefiting from a temperate climate, high number of sunshine hours, regular rainfall and relatively wind free conditions. The imported varieties were moderately successful, but the industry was transformed by the introduction of an West Coast American hop in the 1920's.

'Late Cluster', known in NZ as 'Cali', offered better growth and greater yields and became the hop crop of choice. But twenty years later, Cali was crippled by a soilborne root rotting disease, phytophthora, and the country's hop industry was in dire straits.

The response was the establishment of the Hop Research Station at Riwaka in 1949. Tasked with breeding new high-yield varieties resistant to phytophthora, three cultivars were developed (Smoothcone, First Choice and Calicross). By the mid-sixties when these hops were well established, the industry faced a new challenge.

Lager's growing popularity boosted the worldwide requirement for seedless aromatic hops. Whilst Europe was busy eliminating the seeded male hop plant, New Zealand took a different tack. They developed a virtually sterile seedless plant that still retained the aroma and bitterness characteristics of its lineage. The varieties produced (Green Bullet, Harley's Fullbright, Sticklebract and Super Alpha) became the world's first commercially produced triploid hops (ones having three chromosomes).

Further developments saw New Zealand carry out extensive research into aroma cultivars that were adapted to the country's growing conditions. Out of that program came New Zealand Hallertau, currently the most-produced hop in the country at 42% of the total acreage.

Hop production trebled through the eighties and nineties, and today over 80 percent of the crop is exported. But it's still responsible for less than one percent of the world hop trade. Perhaps the true value of its contribution can be found in two unique offerings.

Less than four percent of New Zealand hop production is of the varietal Nelson Sauvin. But, what a hop it is. Released in 2000, it offers an unmistakable aroma of gooseberries that's almost identical to that of the Sauvignon Blanc grape (hence the varietal's name). It's used by British brewers such as Brewdog to enhance the complexity of pale hoppy beers such as Punk IPA. Thornbridge showcase the hop to incredible effect in their South Pacific Pale Ale, Kipling. It's a hop whose impact can only widen as more drinkers experience it and fall in love with it.

There's also major potential for the production of organic hops. With typical viral and fungal hop diseases not an issue and the only significant pest (the two-spotted mite) controlled by a predator, no pesticide use is needed. Nor are herbicides - instead there's a well-engineered solution that both clears foliage around the hop bines whilst depositing natural organic fertiliser at the same time. It's called sheep grazing.

Unique varieties and organic credentials ought to make New Zealand an expanding player in the world hop market. The cost of freighting the end product out internationally may be the major obstacle to rapid returns on export. But when it results in beer that offers a real 'wow!' factor, perhaps it's a price well worth paying. >

I used to go out walking in the country every other Sunday, but the last few months have seen me shlepping between urban pubs instead. Time to knock the cow crap off my boots and revisit a favourite ramble of mine that just happens to have a couple of pubs along the way.






The circular walk between Spondon, Locko Park, Dale Abbey and Ockbrook is a 6.5 mile ramble that combines farmland footpaths and estate tracks through fields, forest and lakeside. When I lived in an apartment at Locko I put together this website that features directions; the local council also produce a leaflet (pdf) for the same route. From where I now live in Spondon, I took the footpath that drops down across sodden fields before reaching the driveway to Locko Park. This is a popular rambling spot, the byway through the private estate often bustling with walkers, horse riders and small children keen on poisoning the lake’s wildfowl with white bread. Beyond the East Gate, the track to Columbine Farm cuts through molehill-studded slopes which, in summer, will have rabbits scattering over as you approach.

Up into Ockbrook Woods, it was only a short diversion to the nearest pub in Dale Abbey. The Carpenters Arms keeps a half-decent drop of Adnams Broadside, even if it can be a tad cold at times. And that’s what I would have plumped for if it wasn’t for the surprise and delight lurking on the far pump. Blue Monkey Amber Ale, from the new-ish Ilkeston-based microbrewer, was a beer I tried on its debut at the Nottingham CAMRA festival last year. I found it light and refreshing but perhaps a little underwhelming. Today though it really hit the spot – perhaps being a little cooler helps, fairly crisp with clean fruit flavours. And unlike Broadside, it was light enough for me to have happily had another. Except a hoard of day-glo ramblers had just begun to de-boot, so I decided it was time to press on.

Back into the woods, the path climbed sharply before following contours as the Trent Valley opens out to the south. It’s a vista bookended by power stations with freshly ploughed fields falling away before you, down to ribbons of industry by the river as the misty hills of Leicestershire then rise beyond. Eventually turning through the hedgerows and into the wind, the path ran down toward Ockbrook over rough pasture and fallow land. Inquisitive horses cantered up to meet me, perhaps with forlorn hopes of a sugar lump or three.

Meeting the road that rises sharply up into the village, I thought I’d chance my arm at the Royal Oak. No-one was outside, not even hardy walkers, but the crammed car park indicated a swathe of diners inside. I dumped the boots and hoped to find a mildly exciting beer on the bar, perhaps one of their ‘regular guests’ like Whim Hartington IPA. I’d have even settled for this month’s Burton Bridge Gold Medal beer. So the sight of Cottage made my heart sink a little – I’m really not keen on much of their over-malty output, especially when I’ve been out walking. But on the far side of the bar, shining like Sirius in the murky beer firmament, there was Thornbridge Kipling.

I was happy to sit outside and watch the high clouds be blown homeward; no newspaper, no conversation, just me and my thoughts and perhaps the finest cask beer in England. Kipling is so distinctive with its hop profile and juicy grapefruit notes that even the few other Nelson Sauvin-based brews I’ve tried seem plain by comparison. A veritable fruit salad of flavours with a drying finish makes this my Martini beer – anytime, any place, anywhere.

Several pints and a creamy Stilton cob later, I found myself having to roll down my sleeves – a sure-fire sign that it’s getting a tad nippy and it was time to roll onward. It was only a twenty-minute muddy trudge back to Spondon, the sun starting to sag in a sky low-slung with now-brooding cloud. With just enough ache in the calfs and a couple of surprising beers enjoyed, I’d got my love of country rambling back. Perhaps I’ll manage a few more miles next time… as long as there’s a few more pubs too.



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Of all the brewers I'd like to meet and share a beer with, Thornbridge are top of the list. When I saw that they would be hosting a 'Meet the Brewer' event at the Waggon & Horses in nearby Alfreton, I persuaded my wife that we really ought to go out for a meal that night, perhaps at a pub where we haven't ate before, just for a change...

The pub itself is a Spoons, one I'd been in a few years ago when I leapfrogged my way up from Derby to Chesterfield on one of my bus-driven rambles. It's a smart looking place, one of those store conversions that makes for a deep pub with several areas for drinking and dining. The food was surprisingly good; I'm used to Spoons breakfasts where you don't mind piles of gunk (that's why you buy them, to fortify you for a day's heavy drinking). 'Proper' meals at Spoons I've had less exposure to, but my mixed grill was cooked how I ordered it and just enough of it. Bec's lamb burger - her favourite Spoons meal - was tasty, too.

Anyoldhow, enough about the grub. With tasting sessions planned for the evening, the bar had a healthy compliment of Thornbridge beers on, though the Jaipur ran out before the session had even started. When you're charging 1.60-ish for beers this good, I'm not surprised it flies out - Jaipur sells out quickly everywhere anyway. I was forced into buying a pint of Kipling in the meanwhile - hard knock life, eh?

The guys turned up and it was good to finally meet Alex Buchanan, the brewery's marketing manager. We'd traded emails through this week on a variety of topics, and it was interesting to see that he'd done his research and identified me as haddonsman on Ratebeer.com! He said that the brewers were keen followers of the site and once had a 20/20 Jaipur rating pinned to the wall of the brewery.

With brewer Kelly Ryan not well, it was down to head honcho Stefano Cossi to step into the breach and talk us through some of the beers he brews. He looked knackered, to be frank - as he'd been brewing since six that morning, with Kelly off sick and another brewer on holiday, I'm not surprised. But he was still ever enthusiastic and attentive, even to the degree of not wanting some of the sample hops to be handed around as they were past their best and not representative of 'Thornbridge' quality.

Over the next hour or so, a couple of dozen of us were treated to samples of Wild Swan, Lord Marples, Ashford and Kipling, with Stef explaining which various hops and malts were used and Alex giving us an insight into how the beers got their names. I had a chat with Stef about the 'English hopped' Jaipur, wondering whether this was a reaction to increased hop prices. 'It was for a laugh!', he insisted, replacing the familiar hops with significantly higher amounts of English varieties such as Target and Pioneer to try and replicate that distinctive Jaipur flavour. It almost works, as Stef concurred, but it needs a few more tweaks (if that's possible given the nature of the UK hops) to attain that keen nose and finish.

Hop prices are becoming an issue, though - Stef was looking at a threefold cost increase for some hops that Thornbridge rely on. When they have such a keen feel for experimentation, here's hoping that such shifts in outlay don't jeapordise any future projects.

The crowd were appreciative of the beers and of Alex and Stef's enthusiasm and our appetites were whetted by the news of new brews. I'll certainly be on the lookout for the Alliance aged in sherry casks and eagerly awaiting their new bottling plant if it leads to bottle-conditioned Kipling. There's only so much of it that I can bring back from beer festivals in carry-out containers, so I suppose I'll have to give in one day and buy a mini-cask for what would be a memorable weekend of Nelson Sauvin imbibation!

So, all in all, a great evening that offered superb beers and the chance to meet two guys who are genuinely excited and proud of what they do. Top marks to the Waggon & Horses, too, for restoring my faith in Spoons evening food and hosting such an interesting event. And brownie points to the enthusiastic barman who was ceaseless in trying to tempt customers into trying Thornbridge beers for the first time, even if his description of Kipling as '...like Stella, only cheaper!' probably isn't a strapline that Alex will be using in the future!
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