#3) Never underestimate the popularity of fruit beer

Not everyone likes a double IPA. Not everyone likes a traditional bitter. But I reckon you’d be hard pushed to find someone who doesn’t like some sort of fruit beer. I lost count of the times people said to me “I don’t usually like beer/fruit, but that was lovely”. Often it was the ladies who hadn’t been keen on beer (as it was ‘bitter’ or ‘pongy’) and the gents who weren’t sure about fruit (as it was ‘girly, like Bacardi Breezers’).

Putting a decent fruit beer in their hands changed all that. “Does the banana beer taste of banana?”, asked someone. Hell crikey, yes. Mongozo Banana smells and tastes of sweet, Fair Trade bananas. And Mongozo Coconut smells and tastes of coconut milk, as do you when yet another bottle spurts everywhere. Indeed, Mongozo Snozberry would indubitably smell and taste of snozberry.

People were surprised that the beers didn’t taste tacky. That you could recognise the aroma and flavours as those of the fruit in question. Soon, the ladies were supping their beers and joining the back of the sampling queue for more. Four barrel-chested, shovel-handed guys weren’t interested in lagers, they just wanted more coconut beer.

With those flavours licking round their lips, it was time for a gentle segue into kriek and framboise. The pop of the cork, the steady carbonation, the assertive flavours. Here, people found beers to accompany dessert courses, to offer sparkle at a party, to savour out on the decking. Meanwhile, the strawberries-and-cream dream that is Fruli was evaporating from the bar next door.

But *you* still don’t like fruit beer, you say? I bet you just haven’t found the right one… >

#1) It’s a challenge to educate people with beer samples.

With four beers to sample, and a queue of thirsty punters, I reckon I had about thirty seconds to describe the beer styles on offer, push for a decision and pour a beer whilst giving just a sliver of its backstory. Then it was on to the next customer. And repeat for the best part of five hours. You want the customer to try a great beer and understand why it’s great, you want them to remember the beer’s name and – let’s be honest – you want them to buy some either today or on-line at some time. It’s a huge ask in thirty seconds.

#2) Some people say the most obvious things. I had to avoid the obvious answers.

“I don’t like beer, but I like this one”.

Congratulations, that’s because you’ve just tasted your first well-crafted beer made with quality ingredients.

“What’s the strongest beer you’ve got?”

Well, how about forgetting what gets you pissed quickest and try a beer with strong flavours instead? Here’s a chance to redefine your drinking parameters; seize it.

“I don’t like Belgian beer”.

Yeah, that bucket of Jupiler you tried on that stag trip to Brugge was obviously representative of the country’s rich and varied beer heritage.

“Have you got any bitter?”.

Do we have bitter-tasting beer? Yes, some of the world’s finest. But if you mean four-percentish brown slurry, then the answer is no. A sensory descriptor should not define a beer style; both become devalued as a result.

Tongue bitten, objectivity restored, potential future customer identified.

It was actually refreshing to be in a position where I could challenge someone’s beer assumptions. Open their eyes to perceiving beer in a way they’d never done before.. I actually got a kick out of putting a good beer in someone’s hands and seeing a flicker in their eye, a smile on their face, the inkling of a beer epiphany taking place.

More tomorrow. >

I’m a thirsty kind of guy. Not just for the old malt-and-hop-wash, but for beer knowledge. I’m trying to cram in experience at all ends of the industry; one thing I’d never done was work the counter of a trade stand at an exhibition. So when the BBC Good Food Show and 'Tasting Beers Live' rolled into the National Exhibition Centre, with my good friends at beermerchants in attendance, I jumped at the chance to be a bar monkey for the weekend.


The ‘Tasting Beers Live’ side of the show took place in its own area, right at the arse end of the arena. I was sceptical that many would stumble across it, or that it would end up becoming a ‘man-creche’ of blokes desperate to escape from their wife’s wisteria habit. But business was brisk; when we ran tastings the queues soon formed, at other times there was always someone who wanted to stop and chat about the beers.

On the upside, it was great to put good beer into people’s hands and see them get a real kick of tasting something that was new to them – which was a darn site tastier to many they’d tried before. The range of beers by Viven, the truly-fruity Mongozo beers, classic European lagers and pils, all were gratefully received and sampled eagerly.

The only downside was a perception, re-inforced by physical segregation, that beer tasting had to be separate from good food. Yes, there was a beer-and-food stand. Yes, Richard Fox did a sterling job using his beers (and ours) in cooking a range of stunning dishes. But because the sampling stalls were roped off from the main event, perhaps partly driven by licensing restrictions, perhaps to channel customers into paying £7 for a glass and tokens, it seemed like beer was taking itself too seriously and consciously setting itself apart from the rest of the show. For all the exhibitors in there, nothing could have been further from the truth.

I went there for the experience and, boy, there was plenty to be had.. I’ll share some of those with you throughout this week.. In the meantime, huge thanks to beermerchants for letting me loose on the unsuspecting public and props to Sean for not getting too hacked off when I sprayed Mongozo Coconut over him. For the third time. At least we smelt like we’d been on a spa trip, not a beer exhibition ;-) >