So, let the traumatisation and gnashing begin.
-o-
The summer of 1975 was a hot one in the UK, as was the following year so if there was ever a time to float the idea of mixing Guinness with other libations it would appear that the marketing department of the Guinness brewery at Park Royal in London picked the right years, given that Guinness is often categorised – erroneously – as a winter drink for cold weather. It was in in that year that the Guinness Blacklist was launched, with a somewhat begrudging tone it seems, on the UK's unsuspecting public. The time of the launch and promotion seems to be coincidental to the sudden flip to hot weather, as it would have had to be planned months before, but it certainly was fortuitous if the idea was to keep people drinking stout and not change to the cold lager that was becoming more and more abundant as the drink of choice in pubs and in the home at this time. But as we will see, given the tone of the marketing message it was more about a clever form of advertising perhaps that a very serious attempt to change the drinking habits of Guinness drinkers.
From the 11th of June 1975 advertisement began to appear in national newspapers in the UK in a slightly admonishing tone telling Guinness drinkers that although the brewery knew it was happening that weren't really that keen on the idea of Guinness being drank with anything added to it. They claimed they knew it was happening and had a complied a leaflet that listed what they saw as the common additions to their famous stout. Called the Guinness Blacklist, the name working well to both describe a list of black drinks as well as those that were disapproved of, and it contained a list of twenty Guinness blends that they say they felt were interesting, each accompanied by an illustration. The list could be obtained for free by filling in a coupon and sending it off to a promotion company on Brentford high street. Perhaps spurred on by the hot weather, by the following summer the tone of the advertisements had softened to resignation, to the point where in September 1976 similar advertisements for the list were almost begging drinkers to try a Guinness shandy.
The tone of the opening blurb on the list itself is almost sceptical resignation in its thoughts and opinion on the practice of mixing.
When we started to compile the Blacklist, we little realised how much people have been experimenting with Guinness.It seems there's scarcely a drink that hasn't, at one time or another, shared the same glass as our dark, distinctive beer.Reluctantly, we have to admit that many of the mixtures we tried were surprisingly pleasant. Others provoked, well, mixed feelings.We suggest you try a few careful experiments at home, or down at the pub, and make up your own mind about mixing Guinness.You may find some of the drinks we mention have different names from those you're used to.The fact is, names of drinks differ widely from one part of the country to another. (For example, at least three different mixers go under the name Longship.)Similarly, the origin of many of these drinks is somewhat uncertain. If in doubt, we've stuck to the most entertaining, if not believable, stories.However, we'd be grateful for any further information about the practice of Guinness-mixing.In fact, if there's anything you'd like to add, let us know.
The leaflet then goes on to list and illustrate the various blends that may or may not have existed. Some certainly did but some are also a little questionable in history, origin if not just general appeal.
-o-
So what were these blends and what did they taste like? Well, there is only one way to find out ...
(A note on blending: These drinks will be thoroughly mixed, unlike what seems to be a newish method of beer 'blending' where the two products are layered one over the other. That is not a blended drink, it is two separate drinks in one glass and it's pointless from a tasting perspective, even if it is quite photogenic in its appearance.)
-o-
Top Hat
The history behind most of these names deserves to be taken with a fair degree of scepticism, and this so-called 'popular drink' seems to have gone almost unreported in publication at this time, although there is a mention from the previous century, and in more very recent times of course. In general, factual content might be a little hard to come by with regard to some of these names and their provenance, but that's not quite the point of this exercise, and no doubt this mix was tried by drinkers at some point in the early part of the 20th century too.
At first it was mixed half-and-half but on tasting the blend the ginger was too dominant, its mild spice-burn was followed by an unpleasant acrid quality from what remained of the stout flavour, the roast barley, which left the whole drink tasting like a cheap coffee and ginger mix with no redeeming quality.
I persisted. Adding more stout to the mix, and using something closer to a 1 part ginger beer to 2 parts stout, made a huge difference to the experience. With the ginger beer now slotting into the background the flavours of the stout could be easily discerned, and this new ratio transformed it into a completely different drink. Gone was the over spicy heat and that lingering burnt flavour and what we now had was a very pleasant drink that hovered somewhere between and brown ale that was using some new-fangled New-World hops and some type of fancy spiced cola beverage. Success at the second attempt, and I can certainly see the appeal of this one. Not offensive in any way and perhaps a pleasant winter drink? Maybe mulled with a poker?! Regardless, it can be recommended to try, but watch the ratio of stout to ginger beer..
-o-
Calcutta Cup
This blend gets the odd mention in more modern times but seems elusive in the Empire days based on a quick and, admittedly, unthorough hunt of old newspapers and books. There is certainly some logic to adding tonic to anything in certain climates given its protective qualities, but again the name and the history seem to be a little forced. It did certainly exist from at the very least the 1960s although perhaps not under that name.
I chose a small bottle of Guinness Extra Stout for this one too, along with a small can of Schweppes tonic water. I was a little wary of the tonic so mixed it roughly 1 part to 5 of the stout at first. That quantity had little effect on the drink, it just added a little cloying sweetness, so as with the Top Hat I reblended with 1 part tonic to 2 parts Guinness. This added an odd but rather nice coppery metallic bitterness to the drink that balanced the sweetness a little and something resinous too, like a mild lychee flavour perhaps? Although that might have been down to tropical empirical thoughts.
I'm not sure, but in a blind tasting you might just think it was some sort of too-clever artisan porter? It was very refreshing, and I could see it being popular in hot weather, or if one was blighted with mosquitos, but I think it might be difficult to drink it in large quantities with that still-lingering sweetness. Perhaps a different brand of tonic would give a different outcome on that front.
It's certainly one to try and it is quite inoffensive, if hardly inspiring.
-o-
Wasp Sting
The thought of mixing Guinness with orange juice sounds, even to me, as deeply unappealing as the effects of the name of this concoction. And the first half-and-half pour didn’t do anything to change my opinion. It ends up a murky brown colour with no head retention and an overpowering orange aroma. The bitterness of the orange juice clashes dreadfully with the bitterness of the stout with just a tiny redeeming quality of something sweet and cola-like right at the end. This is certainly one that would be best served ice-cold to mask the flavours, as it is quite unpleasant at this ratio.
But let’s persevere. Remixing at the two parts Guinness to one part orange juice changes it completely. The murkiness is now masked by the dark stout, and the head retention is somewhat better making it visually more appealing. There is still a strong orange juice smell just before you dive in but it’s not offensive, and the taste is better, with the stout and orange juice's bitterness more balanced by being unbalanced. It’s not quite Terry’s Chocolate Orange territory but it’s certainly heading in that vague direction, albeit a dark chocolate version. At this ratio it’s definitely more acceptable but not one I’ll be rushing back to try anytime soon. It certainly feels like it was put into the list like a filler used on album with just a few proper hits.
-o-
Black Velvet
This is certainly one of the best-known Guinness cocktails, achieving fame and perhaps some notoriety too. I took a small liberty with this one by using Prosecco instead of champagne, but I can’t see that drastically changing the outcome flavour wise. The Blacklist suggest a fifty-fifty ratio so that’s what I began with and at that mix it was quite a pleasant drink if a little, well, boring. It tasted very much like a sweetish cider with a little kick of grape must or juice. It’s very easy to drink, too easy perhaps, and not stout-like in any way. Very inoffensive.
I then changed to my now standard 2-to-1 mix of stout to mixer and this completely transformed the experience. A dark cocoa taste was quite prominent now and at this ratio it tasted like a sourish dark ale of some description. The sweetness has practically disappeared too and I would imagine that this would absolutely confuse anyone on a blind tasting of sour beers. It really is quite a pleasant drink, and is still dangerously drinkable. It’s certainly one I’d return too, perhaps next time with actual champagne!
But what of the purported history in the Blacklist of it being invented at the Brooks’s Club in London in 1861? I can find no trace of that history prior to the publication of the list in the mid-seventies but it is certainly a drink with a lot of other history. Stout or porter mixed with champagne has been around for a very long time, with various stories and characters attached to it over the many years of its existence.
The actual first mention I can find is by Edward Lear in his 1851 book Journals of a Landscape Painter where he recounts that in 1848 while dining with Osman Mazhar Pasha, a governor in the Ottoman Empire, a captain of the guard was made to drink ‘an amazing mixture of porter and champagne, assuring him it was a species of Frank soup, which he seemed to like little enough.’
The German writer Otfrid Mylius mentions it in London Mysteries: Contemporary Social Scenes published in 1867 where he states that. ‘Kitty, the chambermaid, passed around the intoxicating mixture of porter and champagne during the break, which the dancers sipped rather immodestly.’
The one character who seems most closely connected with the drink is Otto von Bismarck, of which there are innumerable accounts from various sources (many just copying another mind) of it being his favourite tipple in or around the 1840s(?), albeit in publications from a few decades later. Some accounts even have it named after him, a 'Bismarck' being another name for the drink. (Not to be outdone, Paul von Hindenburg favoured an ‘East Prussia Cup’ where the blend of stout and champagne is fortified with brandy and burgundy!)
The American Harry Johnson mentions it in his Bartender’s Manual published in 1882 calling it a 'Champagne Velvet' using 'Irish porter' and champagne in a half-and-half ratio and stating the name comes from the drink making you ‘feel in a short time as fine as silk.’ So not actual feeling like velvet, strangely.
It is mentioned in Cakes & Ale, a Memory of Many Meals by Edward Spencer (Nathaniel Gubbins) in 1897 in his list of ‘Cups & Cordials’ where he name-checks Guinness and states that is one of the ‘best [beer] combinations possible’ and that it should be ‘drunk out of a pewter tankard, and is specially recommended as a between-the-acts refresher for the amateur actor.’
It was reported in 1902 that Cecil Rhodes also drank this blend, and it was called a ‘Velvet’, but known in South Africa as an ‘Imperial Shandy’ and by the early 1920s and into the 1930s it was being called a 'Black Velvet' as well as a 'Royal Shandy', where it is mentioned as being a revived Edwardian party drink and that the actress Miss Margret Rawlings was mainly responsible for said revival, while other newspaper sources claim it was ‘introduced’ by an Australian cricket team on tour in England and that the ‘Royal Shandy’ originated there.
Yet another newspaper report from the 1930s states that the mix of stout to champagne should be ’75-25 per cent’, which is close to my preferred ratio. The same report, where it is called a ‘Royal Shandy’ again and stating that it is sometimes called a Black Velvet, say that 'it was popular during the eighteenth century at the French Courts, where porter specially brewed by a Lord Mayor of London, Sir John Parsons, was “laced” with native champagne.' Now, Parsons died in 1717 so it would have been quite an early iteration of porter which was used! And one more unverified mention in a newspaper even claims it was invented by the wine steward to Russian Emperor Peter III, the husband of Catherine the Great. He died in 1762, so that pulls it back by many decades, if true of course, which it probably isn't.
The truth is probably that the drink has likely been made for as long as the two ingredients have existed and, regardless of the persons involved, this mix of two popular drinks most likely it dates back to the 18th century, and it's origins appear to point vaguely towards the continent but that certainly may not be the case.
I could go on but I won't, as there are many mentions of this mix of drinks in one form or another, with different names, over the last 175 years – that we do know at least. Plus, it appears that the name Black Velvet is at least 100 years old and the Velvet part predates that by another quarter of a century or so.
It seems to have many stories and legends attached to it, as to what's true and what's not I've no firm opinion other than the quote in the Blacklist appears to be wrong.
It's still a rather nice drink in the right ratios though.
That's four down, only sixteen more to go!
More to follow soon ...
Liam K





