I don’t wish to alarm nervous and temperate readers but I must confess that I have been known to knock back a glass of lager or two after a hot day on the hunt for news. And following the example of my Great-Uncle Mick Maddox -- at whose knee I would have crouched had I not first met him as a lanky teenager in Sydney – I occasionally savour that marvellous mix of stout or porter with beer or lager known as a Black and Tan. It’s a bit chewier than a lager and the flavours combine marvellously. Stout, milk stout, dry porter and porter are all variations of strong beers made dark by roasting the grains of malt before they are brewed. ‘Stout’ meant strong, brave or proud back in the 16th Century when it was first recorded. The best-known version of dry porter is one of the three Irish versions: Guinness, possibly the world’s favourite dark beer next to Baltic Stout. Porter became part of the dark beer names because, back in the 17th Century, it was the mainstay of porters who needed strong beer for their lifting, pulling and carrying jobs. Milk stout was so-called because at one time it was reputed to be as healthy a drink as milk. This is laughable, of course. It is much healthier than milk. These, then, are my credentials, motives and background to pursuing
The Great Castle Stout Mystery which I first came across in Howick where my mate Gradwell and I had paused to rehydrate after a long day’s trout fishing. The only pub we could find was rather stark or minimalist in its offerings. The only items on sale were chilled quart bottles of Castle Milk Stout. After enquiring about glasses, one was found and quickly given a wipe by the friendly barman. We consumed our beers gratefully, before they warmed up, and resumed our journey home. From the barman we learned that quarts of stout had become the most popular beer in rural KZN. Any bar without them was doomed. Any bar with them and little else could prosper. Bring your own glass if you wanted such an effete luxury. This incident reminded me that stout had become the first beer to be brewed in 16th Century India by the English traders who preceded the Raj. “India Pale Ale” came a lot later as, at first, a luxury item redolent of the traders’ homeland. It was a strong light-coloured ale that was shipped in casks down among the ballast for the six months voyage to India. And purely by accident, it arrived improved by the voyage: still light in colour but with an alcoholic content that could blow the solar topee of any trader’s head. The voyage concentrated the alcohol quite spectacularly. But good, locally-brewed dark stout remained the beer of choice until India Pale Ale became brewed in Calcutta, then the greatest trading port in the sub-continent. The traders preferred stout because it was an ideal partner to the strong, heavily spiced curries they preferred. This discovery prompted me to campaign for Castle Milk Stout in Durban curry restaurants and a few took it up. I still think it is a great accompaniment to curry. But now no one stocks it that I know of. In my own dear little local, I can get a can of Castle’s darkest when I feel the need for a black-and-tan. But in the really larni hotels and restaurants of Durban it is not stocked. Why? Because, as one nervous manager explained to me last week, in a near-whisper: We don’t want to attract the wrong kind of people here. We still have a lot to learn in the rainbow nation. Perhaps we should re-name it the Camouflage Nation COOKING WITH CASTLE’S EXCELLENT MILK STOUT Beer is preferable to the feeble wines we can afford, these days, for cooking most casseroles. However, I must raise a query about Guinness. Here and there, now and again, one can buy a can of real Guinness – imported from Ireland at dreadful expense – which tastes like the real stuff brewed on the banks of Dublin’s river. But most of the cans that get here are brewed in Namibia and, to me, they taste nothing like Dublin’s Guinness but still cost a great deal more than Castle’s excellent darkest.
Ham with Stout: For 4 or 8. Get together: A kilo or 2 kilos of gammon ham. 2 peeled onions, thickly sliced. 4 cloves of garlic, peeled and chopped. 2 or 4 fresh or 4 or 8 dried bay leaves. 4 or 8 chopped celery sticks. 4 or 8 scrubbed and sliced carrots. 250g to 500g of brown lentils mixed with split peas to taste. 1 or 2 ‘pint’ bottles or cans of Castle Milk Stout. Water. 1 cup chopped parsley. Salt and freshly ground black pepper. Oil. 30g butter. In a lidded, oven- and flame-proof dish, fry the onions, garlic, carrots and celery, bay leaves and oregano until lightly browned. Add the lentil/split pea mix and stir in for a minute over the heat. Season to taste. Place the ham on the vegetables, tied to retain its shape if necessary. Add the Castle Stout and enough water to just cover the ham. Bring to a simmer and cook, covered, for 2 hours 30 minutes or 3 hours at 180C. The ham will be excellent hot or cold. The vegetables should be served hot or warm with the stock separated and reduced by a quarter through fast simmering. Add the knob of butter to the vegetables and stir in at the last minute. Scatter the chopped parsley over the vegetables just before serving.
Toad in the Ale. For 4. Get together: 1 kg of good pork or beef sausages. 2 onions chopped small. A big pinch of dried oregano. 1 can of Castle Milk Stout. 450ml meat stock. Salt and pepper. 1 kg potatoes, peeled and quartered. Lightly fry the sausages and onions in a lidded casserole. Pour on the Castle Milk Stout and stock in roughly equal quantities until half way up the sausages. Season lightly. Put the covered casserole in a pre-heated 180C oven for half an hour. Meanwhile, boil and drain the potatoes. Take of the lid and cook on until the sausages are dark and crisp on top. Serve out the sausages and then the potatoes. Cover both with the delicious gravy.
