Dear Henrik,

Firstly, just a little explanation as to why I am writing this tale of two of your most wonderful brews in this rather non-dansk fashion. (Lets call this a tale – ‘review’ is such a cold term, I am a chef, I think first with my heart.) When one speaks from the heart Henrik, there can be only one language – and this is the language of my dear Mother. This is my way to express the feeling I feel and the reactions I have experienced whilst tasting the two ‘nectars’ this evening. Also – asked to ‘maximise the Cunninghamisation’ of the piece I was, I have*.

I visited the brewery along Vesterbrogade this afternoon in order to collect the ‘Sloe’ brew that I would have the honour of tasting, and afterwards, writing about.

On arrival I spoke to a couple of the very lovely young waitresses, between rushing from table to table they very kindly guided me down the stairs to be greeted by my new chum Ebbe, the assistant brewer on site at the time. To start with, poured a couple of ales he did.*

We swiftly advanced to the ‘tap-room’, as you showed me before – and tasted the ‘sloe-brew’ we did.* I must admit the tasting of this most young, almost innocent brew was clearer and more precise at this time. Maybe the laboratory-like conditions played more than a significant part in this tasting. The tangy orangey notes rang clear. The honey’ed, syrupy textures came first in the evening whist I relaxed with my dear wife, enjoying a most English of suppers, ‘Chicken Tandoori’ with lightly saffron’ed Basmati rice, home-pickled limes and soured cucumber ‘raita’. A perfect combination between this almost (may I say) British type ale and believe it or not the national dish of Great Britain. Yes, The Great Fish and Chip dinner came in at number 2 this year.

The delightfully unfiltered, almost misty appearance of this young brew immediately reminded me of a very early morning (most unlike me) that I spent walking along the beach at Roses, along the Costa Brava. We ate a 30 course dinner the night before at the now infamous restaurant ‘elBulli’. Strange dish after even stranger dish we were presented with, drinking the most beautiful of wines. The down point came at the end of the night whilst sitting on their terrace looking out onto the moon-lit Mediterranean. A cooled beer was needed, as usual to finish of a most lovely night. Tepid ‘San-Mig’ was all that was on offer at this 3 star establishment – Henrik, where were you when you were most needed?

Anyway, back to the ale. The ‘sloe’ this evening had a more caramelised edge to it, the orange kick of this afternoon was now toned down leaving an innocent, smooth, clean, light and most feminine taste, almost of lightly roasted almonds. Reminiscent of peaches and apricots, bordering on really good marzipan. I closed my eyes and imagined slowly braised lamb with lentils, lemon and lots of garlic or roasted veal-sweetbreads over onions, garlic and fennel warmed with white wine vinegar, juiced lemon and olive oil. I cooked this dish with my new mate Mik Schack the other day, we added the most delicious oysters from Limfjorden – great big buggers they were! We drank a ‘Ruddels County’ with the dish, it worked but again Henrik, my friend – where were you?

On the way out of ‘Apollo’ today I was most lucky and very happy to accept a wonderfully large, almost extra large sample bottle of my absolute favourite ‘neck-juice’, India Pale Ale – known as I.P.A. to lesser mortals. ‘Nectar for the bloody Gods’ this stuff.

The I.P.A. was indeed a smoky, rich mahogany in colour. A summer holiday spent on a topless Cuban beach, springs delightfully to mind. The taste it had*, of a rainy summer night, propping up some bar somewhere within the East End of London and preferably after a fantastic gastronomic treat of fish and chips – with lashing of salt and vinegar. The Apollo I.P.A. has a real depth about it. It starts as I said with a smoky richness, then proceeded to unfold through a wall of roasted hazelnuts and brown sugar – finishing with a superb crescendo of caramelised lemon, bitter-sweet. A ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ this is* – thank you ‘The Verve’.

Henrik, my friend – it has been an honour. A wonderful evening I have had. And a wonderful discovery I have made, I have Mik to thank for the introduction to you. I have you to thank for Apollo.

With very warm regards and great respect – Paul.

Paul Cunningham

The Paul, Tivoli

* strange Jedi language, this is.

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