Beer Bread

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Published on 5 January 2025 by Andrew Owen (3 minutes)

In my second year as a university undergraduate, I lived in a bedsit in Islington, London, not far from a bar called the Purple Turtle on Essex Road. The original opened in Reading in 1990. The Islington branch closed first in 2003, followed by Camden in 2015 and Oxford in 2018. There was something special about it; the only place I’ve ever seen bikers and suits sat next to each other at the bar having a friendly chat over a beer. It had a CD jukebox that was stocked by the establishment, so you could memorize the numbers of the songs you wanted to hear, and they would never change. It was an eclectic music selection and remains the only jukebox I’ve ever known to including a copy of “Smash Hits” by the Jimi Hendrix Experience. This was the first time I heard any of the B-sides (“51st Anniversary”, “Highway Chile”, “The Stars That Play with Laughing Sam’s Dice” and “Stone Free”).

But the main thing I remember about the Purple Turtle, was the rotating selection of over 100 beers from around world. At this point, I’ve probably tried at least one beer from every beer producing country in the world except North Korea (I’m still hoping to try Taedonggang). This is where I was introduced to Trappist beer. But besides those, three beers stand out in my memory:

The first time I had Chili Beer, the bar tender told me it was on the house if I ate the chili. I think I got about three free beers that way before they realized I’ve got quite a high tolerance. First brewed in 1979, at 14% ABV, Samichlaus is probably the world’s first extreme lager. I remember it having a distinctly syrup-like consistency. Both were discontinued, but Samichlaus was revived in 2000 and last year there was an attempt to revive Chili Beer.

Coopers on the other hand has been in continuous production since 1862, when the brewery was established in AdelaIde by Yorkshireman Thomas Cooper. It has no artificial additives or preservatives, being bottled with some live yeast that consumes the oxygen. This leaves a residue in the bottle which, if you want, you can distribute throughout the bottle by gently rolling it before you open it. This makes it perfect to use to bake beer bread. It travels well, although it’s hard to find outside Australia and New Zealand. If you can’t get Coopers, any good ale will do, but avoid hipster IPAs with citrus in the flavor profile.

  • 320 g strong white bread flour (plus extra for dusting)
  • 80 g strong wholemeal bread flour
  • 8 g salt
  • 7 g instant yeast
  • 25 g unsalted butter (softened)
  • 250 ml ale
  • olive oil for kneading and oiling the tin

Commercial bakers use steam injectors to create a lighter crust. I picked up this tip on how to recreate this at home from Paul Hollywood. Put a roasting tray at the bottom of the oven when you switch it on. When you put the dough in, fill the tray two thirds with boiling water. After five minutes, and not before, open the oven; if most of the water has evaporated, top it up.