Choven (Човен), Lviv

Lviv is an awesome city; even on a grey rainy Sunday in autumn, it’s utterly superb. Unfortunately, the beer scene is less wonderful, it’s mostly macro-lager that is very cheap (half a litre in a neighbourhood bar is about 20 hryvni, which is 3zl, £0.60) and, while not completely undrinkable like Polish macro rubbish, not really worth bothering with. In terms of good beer bars, your choices are basically Pradva Beer Theatre and this place. Not that that’s such a drawback: when a bar is as good as this one, you don’t need any other places to go.

 

Superb bar; rubbish photo. Anyway, here's your target.

Two minutes from the Rynok, the old town location means that the seating is spread in four smallish rooms on the ground floor with more space upstairs, not sure how much space: I saw the stairs, then I saw the bar, you can guess which drew more attention. There are 16 taps to choose from, although two of those are given over exclusively to ciders (and those two seemed to have the fastest turn-over of all the taps). Almost all of the beer names, and absolutely all of the descriptions, are written in English rather than Ukrainian, which is a big help. If you need advice as to which of the 14 is going to best suit what you’re looking for, the bar staff were all very friendly, happy to help and English speakers.

Runners and riders

In terms of clientele, it was a fairly youngish crowd, average age somewhere in the mid (to late) twenties, with the occasional old fart such as yours truly. Unfortunately, and in common with more than a few bars in Lviv, one or two of the male drinkers seemed to lack a working knowledge of soap, which somewhat distracted from the enjoyment of the aroma of the beers. And it got pretty full on the Friday evening, three deep at the bar, so get here six or seven-ish if you want a table; but Saturday was noticeably less busy and Sunday was pretty quiet. The only major minus point is the crouch-and-crap excuse for a toilet. It’s even worse than the ‘lay and display’ khazis in Berlin; the only reason it’s a significant step-up from the holes in the ground of Kuwait is because there is at least beer at the bar to take your mind off the facilities (or lack of them).

White Rabbit San Diego:
loved it

At the recommendation of the barman I opened my innings with a glass of White Rabbit San Diego APA from the White Rabbit brewery in Dnipropetrovsk Oblast, which is apparently in central Ukraine. The nose wasn’t overly hoppy, which made a change from quite a few Polish craft beers (especially the ones from the stage of Polish brewing that Ukraine’s beer scene appears to be at right not, i.e. an early one). It was actually very nicely balanced, grassy and citrus but also a hint of maltiness. The thick tight head left good lacing, and the beer itself, made with Mosaic and Magnum hops – if I was reading the menu right – had a very full mouthfeel. Finely carbonated but well carbonated, initially there was quite fruity mouth, caramelised grapefruit, pineapple and kiwifruit, but that soon became nicely bitter, with the kiwi lingering, and then more bitter on the very long finish. It was extremely moreish and the only drawback was that I’d been served the last beer from the last keg they had. This was the first Ukrainian craft beer I’d ever had and the overall impression it left was that if all Ukrainian craft beers were that good and that price, I should start looking for a flat in Lviv.

Lonely Little Chicken

Working on the assumption that more Ukrainian would be even better, I asked for one of the beers with a Ukrainian name. It was at this point that I realised one of the downsides of having not bothered to learn any of the Ukrainian alphabet: it’s impossible to even try to pronounce the name of what you’re ordering (or to write it down). Anyway, the helpful barman said that the brewery’s name, Typsa, translates as Little Chicken and the beer was called “Single Little Chicken, or maybe Lonely Little Chicken”. I can say for certain that the glass had a picture of a chick on it, so asking for “the IPA that comes in a glass with a chick” might do the trick. Or it might get you a glass of IPA with the other kind of chick, but with this being Ukraine, that might also be rather enjoyable. Back to the beer, made with Munich malt and Australian hops, it was a light-ish copper and completely clear. It had a slightly strange but pleasant aroma which reminded me of strawberry yoghurt and a healthy dose of ctirusy hops, maybe a suggestion of malt there too. The slightly cloying mouthfeel became a more astringent sensation with the finish, slightly tingly. Flavourwise it was quite fruity up front, ripe peaches and bitterish strawberries that got more bitter on the finish but by no means too bitter. While it wasn’t as enjoyable as the White Rabbit, and seemed closer to an APA than an IPA, I’d certainly have one of these over a Rowing Jack any day of the week. And given that this is a pretty new brewery (from a fairly remote corner of Ukraine near the border with Hungary), it’ll be very interesting to see what they are making three or four years from now.

Naked Pug:
the best beer of the trip

Giving the 7.0% foreign extra stout a swerve, the next beer on the menu was Naked Pug, an APA from the KF Brewery. Gold and slightly hazy (unlike the previous two, which were completely clear), barman said it was quite like the San Diego but much more hops. Well, the nose certainly wasn’t; yes hops were there, but only as part of a slightly citrusy, well-balanced aroma with malt sweetness and floral notes. However, the flavour was another story entirely: sharp grassy citrusy hops were very much to the fore, slightly more balanced on the follow and then an excellent long bitter finish. It was an absolutely glorious beer, so good that I immediately had another one, enjoying both the refreshing flavours and the lively mouthfeel. On my subsequent visits to Choven, this was pretty much the only beer I drank; I’d absolutely love to get some in Warsaw (if anybody’s got any ideas, please get in touch).

Herbal/spiced APA: hmmm

At this point I switched to flight-size beers (0.225l), so excuse the photos. Well, I say beers, but given that the first one was a herbal spiced APA from Collider brewery, perhaps glasses would be more accurate. Crystal clear gold and a darkish shade of gold, despite being described as a herbed/spiced APA, there was little of either on the nose, just mint (OK, so that is technically a herb), pine resin and hints of lemon. The thin sharp mouth had an initial tang of mint before a lorry-load of pine resin smacked into my tastebuds without even bothering to get out of the lorry. Then as those tastebuds were picking themselves up again and wondering what the fuck just happened, the mint came back for a long dry finish. It certainly wasn’t unenjoyable, but it wasn’t exactly beer either. As refreshing and unique as it was, I’d have to think once or twice about having another one.

An Imperial IPA I liked!

Next it was one I didn’t really expect to like: Nuclear Bird Imperial IPA from the Beercraft brewery, listed as being 7.7%. I’ve never been a big fan of ‘Imperial’ beers. For a start no empire was ever made by simply turning everything up to eleven, but that does seem to be how some brewers approach the idea of Imperial beers. Simply put, more does not necessarily equal better, so just lobbing in a few more wheelbarrows full of hops and malt does not always make for a better beer, quite often the exact reverse. It’s much harder to get maximum taste from lower strength beers, session beers, even table beers, that’s where real skill and talent can be brought into play. But, I digress, or rant even. This was a light copper offering and completely clear. The nose was again nicely balanced, more citrus than floral, but both there, along with malt notes. Frankly it was mild compared to some Polish regular IPAs (yes, Jack, I am looking at you, and you, Atak Chmielu). And the mouth, well, if we’re talking empires, this was very much the Italian one: fruity and a bit loud but a long way from Imperial. But just as you’re about to write this off as a sheep in wolf’s clothing, a slight warming alcohol sensation arrives and grows until turns into a certainty that the barman ran out of chalk and so thought “Sod it: 7.7% is close enough to 27.7%”. Not unpleasant, but certainly unexpected. As Imperial IPAs go, this was better than most but I’d still prefer an APA nine times out of ten.

In most places Affectionate Krampus would be called a Russian Imperial Stout but in Ukraine right now that’s not the wisest of moves. Personally I don’t understand why Collider brewery didn’t just call this Ukrainian Imperial Stout. It’s the darkest of blacks, with a chocolately rather thin head. Chocolate was quite a theme of this beer, it had roasted chocolate malts and more than a hint of coffee on the nose, a deep and very moreish aroma, with the bitter tobacco notes drawing you in for another sniff. The mouth was quite oily and had a less substantial feel to it than you’d want from an Imperial stout. Initially the flavour was quite sweet flavour, prunes and chocolate but it turned to a coffee-chocolate bitterness on the follow and then a more bitter slightly smoked chocolate on the finish. The amount of alcohol that arrived on the finish went past warming and well into heating, seemingly far more than the advertised 8%.

Herbal/spiced APA, Imperial IPA, Imperial Stout, American Wheat

As a complete change of pace, next was a Wheat House American wheat from Syndicate Beer & Grill. Although the nose was slightly smoky along with the more expected citrus notes and the flavour was slightly sweeter and more malty than Polish versions of this style, it was basically just another American wheat, nothing really wonderful but very quaffable. I’d happily have another; in fact, as I inhaled the first one while having a very tasty pizza which set me back nine whole zloty, I promptly did just that. And at just 3.5% strength, why not? It’s good to see that Ukrainian brewers aren’t afraid to make the kind of beer that a lot of Polish men would never order just because it isn’t strong enough for real men. Syndicate Beer & Grill is certainly on my ‘must visit’ list for the upcoming visit to Kiev.

Octopus Stout from Lucky Man brewery was 5% offering. Fairly thick black but slightly translucent in appearance, there was a bit of hops on the nose but much more of the well roasted malt, chocolate with just a hint of chickory. Like the Affectionate Krampus the mouth was a bit thin mouth, but a gorgeous change after the hugely over-carbonated stouts that are all too common in Warsaw. The flavours were predominantly malty but with hops there too to offset the sweetness. A long sweet-ish finish left me wanting more but it was all gone by the time I got back to Choven the next day.

Oatmeal Morning, Beerphoria, Octopus Stout and American Wheat: all very drinkable

Beerphoria was an experimental blonde ale from Beercraft brewery. With so much lemon curd and hops on the nose, I immediately wondered if this was a wild fermentation ale. The mouth was thin and quite carbonated with a sharp feel to it. The flavour was much like the smell, with a finish that verged on astringent without being in the slightest bit unpleasant. It certain wasn’t what you’d expect to get if you walked up to a bar and said “A pint of your finest ale please barman.” but I’d happily have another one.

Last on the tasting list was Oatmeal Morning, an oatmeal stout by Syndicate beer & Grill. It seemed more like Christmas morning on the nose: lots of dried fruit, plums and Christmas cake to enjoy. The mouth was much thinner than you’d expect from an oatmeal stout and quite carbonated too, with the bubbles adding to the sweetness. The sweet, malty flavour had more of the Christmas cake notes and a slightly cloying sweetness that hung around for quite a while, not entirely unpleasant, but not a sensation that draws you in for another pint.

Beer and fresh popcorn: why haven't Warsaw bars caught onto this excellent idea?

One thing to note is that even on Friday evening the place closes at 00.30 prompt, so prompt that if you’re ordering a pint at 00.10, the barman might ask if you’d prefer a half. Don’t be offended, just make use of the takeaway bottles they’ll put the beer in free of charge. 

Blimey, that turned into a long post. But both this bar and these beers really deserve the attention. I’m completely sure that I’ll be heading back to Lviv in the near future and that Choven will be right at the top the list of places to go to: I highly recommend that you do likewise. 

Choven (Човен), 

Virmenska (вірменська) 33