Bottled Up: Nils Oscar

Jonas Kandefelt is adamant that high quality beer is not enough. "You've got to have a story to tell,", explained the MD of Swedish microbrewer, Nils Oscar. So, with a dazzling array of their beers and a little help from IKEA, I donned my trusty apron and set about creating a Swedish beer and food evening. Stories will indeed be told. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin....

Those fine fellows at Beermerchants.com had been kind enough to send me a sample case of of beers, half of which were from the Nils Oscar brewery. I knew little about Swedish beer - I couldn't remember ever having tried anything from the country - and had never heard of Nils Oscar. So, a little research was in order. A relatively young brewery, it was founded by six beer enthusiasts in 1996 and renamed Nils Oscar a year later when Karl-David Sundberg bought out the other owners. He named the brewery after his childhood hero and grandfather, Nils Oscar Sundberg, who emigrated from Sweden to the USA in 1882. He found work as a tenant farmer and, according to his college assessment, was "honest at all times and never afraid to do his duty". Returning to Sweden, Nils Oscar founded a family farm that was, a hundred years later, set to become the cornerstone of a new brewery.

Nils Oscar has a philosophy that they call "från ax till strupe"; literally, from the grain to the throat. All their malt comes from their own hi-tech production facility in Tärnö, which also supplies malts for local bakers. Brewing is carried out at Nyköbing, having moved from a previous site in Stockholm in order to raise capacity. They have their own bottling line and their own transportation fleet to deliver the finished product to the state-controlled alcohol retailers, Systembolaget, as well as restaurants and bars.

With such pride invested in their creation, it seemed to me that these beers deserved a decent day's drinking. So, what better way of enjoying them than to rustle up some Swedish food to accompany each bottle? Now, the English midlands isn't exactly awash with Swedish delis but we do have one quaint store that has a fridge full of food and a few bits of furniture for sale - IKEA.

Normally, I'd rather tuck into a round of syphilis-on-toast than subject myself to the soul-sucking consumerist maelstrom of this place. But those meatballs don't grow on trees, you know. In fact, Mrs H and I both had a plateful of the things whilst we were there and were pleasantly surprised how tasty we are. I'd asked around on the Ratebeer.com food & beer forum about the kind of stuff I could make and had a fair bit of feedback. We bought sprats to go into the Jansson's Temptation. Meatballs were a must-have as well. Lingonberry jam was a revelation in the IKEA restaurant so we had to have a jar of that. Fishy bits in vinegar would act as a mid-feast nibble, almond tart suffices as a dessert and Knackerbrod was bought just because it has the word Knacker in it.

Jansson's Temptation is one of those recipes that I've had knocking around for years and never got round to cooking. It's one of those dishes that looks good as you put it together, it starts to feel like it's going to be a proper stick-to-your-ribs job, all that starch and creamy stodge. True, the Abba sprats looked like squashed silver soldiers drowning in vinegar, but the one I nibbled on whilst cooking was strangely tasty. And it's good to see that Benny is in gainful employment since the gigs dried up. Perhaps Anni-Frid helps him out with the packing when he has a large order to ship out.

Anyoldhow, the Nils Oscar beers. All this chopping had made me thirsty, so I cracked open beer number one, God Lager. That's God as in good and I'll second that emotion. Pouring a burnished yellow with a sticky-spit head, the lacing spread like mould seen in speeded-up timelapse photography. There was a keen malt aroma, an itchy feel in the throat, an almost fresh yeasty flavour flopping across the tongue. A sweetness ducks and dives across the palate, avoiding cloying, keeping the flavour alive. Even after thirty minutes in the glass (yes, I *am * a slow cook) there's a clean malt feel with only a passing sweetness that lingers.

The Jansson's Temptation was soon ready. It was reasonably gorgeous - unctuous, very filling but just slightly too heavy going. Though we did seem to be polishing off uber-portions of the stuff. If there's a next time for this recipe, perhaps less cream or a slightly-longer cooking time would work better. Loved the haunting fish flavour, mind. And it set me up for another beer, the India Pale.


This had a fantastic orange glow, backlit-Lucozade with a steady sparkle. A huge rocky off-cream head rapidly diminished. Some soft soap aromatic hops washed around the nose, a really smooth feeling beer with soft carbonation, silken on the palate. There was just enough fizz when it was worked around your mouth, that soft feel on your lips again, with pine notes stripped across the palate. It was a competent pale ale, biting enough to turn over the cream feel left by Jansson's, albeit nothing too savage in the way I usually take my IPAs.

Let's be honest; this isn't the most appealing picture I've ever taken. Yes, it bears an uncanny resemblance to a collection of droppings deposited by a variety of woodland creatures. But it was darn tasty. Let's give it the Joey-from-Friends test; Potatoes? Good! Jam? Good! Mustardy sauce? Good! Meatballs? Duh, they're MEATBALLS! Meatballs are always good! Yes, the mustardy-sauce was a pain to mix and only got better after I sieved the lumps out, but the rest was steller. I still can't believe that meatballs and lingonberry jam work so well together.

Moving up the scale, I opened Kalasol as beer number three to go with the meatballs. The deep copper body poured with almost no head. Terrifically good doughy scent, real whiffs of sweet pastry. And then crispy pasty. That soft feel round the lips again, developing into something of a trademark for these Nils beers. The light carbonation and hints of very milky chocolate gave it quite a lush lick that remained understated but confident. Complemented the meatballs well, though it would have rocked with a beef stew and potato rosti. Note to self - more beer and food evenings required.

Dessert time, then. 'Tarte mandel' turned out to be a superb, almondy, crispy-creamy pastry concoction. Perhaps a hint of coconut? By now, with a belly full of rich creamy fish and meaty balls, I should only be taking a sliver of stuff like this. But, after the first mouthful, I find myself cutting huge chunks off and stuffing it down. It keeps that creamy vibe that's been a hallmark of the dishes tonight and I find it surprisingly good for a frozen pastry dessert.

With the food out of the way - let's not mention the pickled herring and dill - the hardcore Nils Oscar beers awaited. Having forgot to buy any cheese, the last two beers tonight get sampled without food. The Imperial Stout had by far and away the best pour aroma of the day, split liquorish root driven through the mesh of a well-worn cafetiere. Plenty of creamy coffee infused from smoked beans ensued, again with that wonderfully soft mouthfeel. With the restrictions placed on them by Systembolaget, Jonas Kandefelt reckons that microbreweries have to go national and chase the export market to survive in the long run. The Nils Oscar Imperial Stout not only deserves to be lauded throughout Sweden, but exported successfully as an prime example of what this heady brew of passion and skill can achieve.


To be frank, pretty much anything after that impy was going to be a disappointment by comparison. The Barley Wine was chock full of overwhelming candied sugar; fine if it's backed up with a deep-heated spice and/or an alcoholic-y edge. This pulls its punches, a super-sweet beer that's a little too thin for its own good. Not a bad beer, by any stretch of the imagination, but one that fails to pack the suckerpunch that a barleywine demands. I'd keep the other bottle I have and age it, but I'm not convinced it would really improve. Perhaps 'fresh barleywine' is a style yet to define itself within modern Swedish brewing. Not too sure if it's one I'll be revisiting too often, though.

With a kitchen full of creamy washing-up to be done and assorted glasses littering the living room, time for reflection. The food has been average-to-magnificent. Jansson's Temptation was just about worth the bother of cooking. And the Nils Oscar beers were... soft. Incredibly so. Every beer, regardless of style, had a smooth feel about it. Which worked surprisingly well with God Lager, so-so with Kalasol, not overly great with Barley Wine and ruddy wonderfully with the Imperial Stout. Where silky palates were required, Nils Oscar delivered. There's something in the water at Nyköbing, and it's coupled with an easy assurance that they're brewing good beer in a robust manner.

Their brewmaster, Patrick Holmqvist, has said, "Swedish beer culture... is imported. We have a wide array of styles from a wide array of influences... but we have no distinctive Swedish beer style yet". I firmly believe that Nils Oscar are on the way towards shaping that definition. Sweden could be on the cusp of finding a soft-carbonated, clean malted, deep-flavoured, mid-strength style that doesn't need to pander to the overtly hopped movement of much American craft brewing or the 'rent-a-flavour' feel of new English microbrewing. Getting the beers out to a wider audience is a crucial step. The story of Nils Oscar may be seldom told so far, but it deserves to be recited in bars all over the world for many years to come.

1 comment:

  1. Embarrassingly I had never heard of the Nils Oscar stuff before but I'll have to get my hands on some...they all look amazing particularly the Imperial Stout. Awesome.

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