No stopping the hopping

For a dead brewery, Hopfully has sure been busy. The switch back to being a client brewer has seen no let-up in the release schedule, and this past autumn has seen four new ones.

The Vase arrived in mid-September, and is badged as a "west coast pale ale". Alas, it's a very Hopfully idea of "west coast", including oats in the grist and pouring with a very definite haze, even if it's not fully opaque. The hops are Amarillo, Citra and Mosaic, and the latter is dominant in the aroma, on its best behaviour with lots of juicy cantaloupe and passionfruit. There's not much juicy about the flavour, however, and maybe that's where the west coast element comes in. The Mosaic switches to its dry, caraway seed mode and there's a spiky citric bitterness which I suspect is the Citra's doing. It was a shock after the aroma, but I settled into it quickly and found myself enjoying it. The ABV is only 4.9% and it's a little on the thin side, with a slightly excessive amount of fizz, but it's refreshing and invigorating, just as the style is meant to be. Bold hops in a small package is to be celebrated. Well played, Hopfully.

Expectations were therefore high when the next pair landed. First open was Let It Drop, a 5.2% ABV IPA. It's hopped with Citra and Ekuanot, and also uses chit malt, which I had to look up. It's a malt with higher than usual protein and starch, used to boost the body of hazy IPAs. And this beer is, of course, hazy: a bright and sunny opaque yellow. There's a juice-laden yet sharp aroma, suggesting that the Citra is in control again. No harm. Although it has a certain bite of lime in its flavour, it's predominantly sweet, with a substantial degree of vanilla next to the citrus. It's a familiar flavour profile, done in a million other mid-strength hazy IPAs, though the execution is flawless, with none of the usual off flavours I complain about. The result is clean and easy drinking, but with bags of fresh hop complexity; unfussy, but far from dull. I don't mind the lack of originality at all. Good beer is good beer.

Released alongside it was Forest. It looks similar, though is a smidge duller than the previous beer. The ABV goes up to 5.6%, Columbus and Galaxy are the hops, and of course there's more chit malt. The aroma has much less to say, giving me a sniff of savoury spring onion but little else. The first taste is shockingly bitter, and while I'm sure the hops have a lot to do with that, it also tastes dreggy: of dry plaster dust and leafy hop detritus. I did my best to look beyond this, and while there's a certain pine resin element, it's doesn't have the zing and sparkle that good American IPAs show when they go this way. Columbus is not very fashionable, but I've enjoyed its peppery dankness in the past; Galaxy ought to bring orangeade and marmalade fun. There's no fun of any kind in this harsh and acrid beast, and it's a world away from the sunshine dessert of the last one. At least I can't accuse the brewer of turning out samey beers. My diagnosis is that they attempted to go big with hop varieties that aren't really meant for that. The technical aspects of the beer are fine, but the recipe is wildly unbalanced towards raw bitterness, and that's not what anyone wants from hazy IPA, and probably any IPA for that matter.

It's not all haze 'n' hops at Hopfully, and an export stout brings up the rear: the 6.7% ABV Black Balloon. This is one of my favourite beer styles, one that sits perpetually on the periphery of the mainstream in Ireland, with Leann Folláin, Nocturne and Guinness West Indies offering that extra boost on the pint of plain in bottled form. This is slightly stronger than those 6%-ers though it looks the part, being properly black with an old-ivory head, albeit one which doesn't last terribly long. Sweet and sticky molasses start the aroma off right, telling us that the beer will be a sipper. I'm on board with that. The mouthfeel is beautifully full, providing a broad base to propel the stout flavours. That's coffee first: raw ground beans; bitter and oily. Some light chocolate and hazelnut sweetness comes behind, before a kick of green vegetal hops, for a proper, old-fashioned, grandad's stout. They may as well have packaged it with twenty Capstan and a well-worn cardigan. That's not to say it's a comfortable beer. This is serious stuff, bitter of roast and of hops and of general demeanour. The finish leaves scorchmarks of hot tar and burnt toast across the palate, and yet is clean with no excess heat. For a couple of Brazilians to rock into Ireland and make old-school stout better than most native breweries is quite an achievement. I'm very glad Hopfully is still around to do that.

It seems the price of one top-notch stout is three samey hazy pale ales. If that's the exchange rate then, frankly, I'll take it.

Hope for strength

North Dublin brewery Hope provides today's beers: two big wintery specials.

The first is plainly titled Barrel Aged Export Stout. With a nod to the history of exporting stout to the Caribbean, the barrels involved previously held Two Shores rum. It's 8% ABV and foamed busily on pouring, eventually settling to a pure black body with a tan-coloured head. There's a warming, fruity element to the aroma, which I'm guessing must be the rum, though I wouldn't have identified it as such unbidden.

Unsurprising given the froth, it's quite fizzy: a little too much for the style, I think, giving it a thin and sharp quality that doesn't suit strong stout. The rum element is present in the flavour, but subtle. I tend not to like rum-aged beers, finding the spirit cloyingly sweet, but that isn't the case here. Instead, the barrels add more of that fruitcake or Christmas pudding quality I found in the aroma, as well as a rawer oaken sappiness. None of this overrules the base beer, which is a no-nonsense, properly bitter, grown-up stout: dark toast, a molasses sweet side and then a finish of punchy spinach and green cabbage leaf. The can says it's 48 IBUs; it tastes like considerably more. This is quality stuff, and I'm always happy to find a modern stout that goes big without resorting to silliness. The fizz is its one flaw, and I found myself doing a lot of swirling to try and knock that out. It only reached an acceptable level of smoothness around the time I finished it.

From one olde-worlde English style to another. Paddy's Barleywine results from this year's National Homebrew Club championships, being a recreation of the grand prize winner's beer. It's paler than most beers of this type, rose-gold rather than deep red. The aroma is sweet and summery, conjuring ripe strawberries and glace cherries. No excessive carbonation here: the gentle sparkle suits its 8.7% ABV and the texture is heavy, carrying lots of malt sweetness. That tastes of toffee and jam to begin, turning bitterer towards the finish as the hops kick in fully. There's a good balance between the sweet and bitter sides, the candy malt offset with a tannic dryness which verges on harsh.

It's a straightforward sort of creature. I couldn't tell you what sort of hops have been deployed, but I would guess European rather than American: it doesn't have the citric oomph that the likes of Sierra Nevada's Bigfoot show, a feature which has been copied by many a European barley wine brewer. The understated nature of the flavour meant I took my time with it, allowing the sensation to unfold gradually, and enjoying the building warmth. This is another well-made and novelty-free beer, hitting the style's good points with nothing silly going on. I don't think we get enough beers like this, especially at the stronger end of the spectrum. Shame about the ropy AI-generated artwork on the label. Hope is usually more of a class act than that.

That was an enjoyable winter afternoon's drinking, and I'm glad the brewery thinks there's an audience for beers like this.

DOT of all trades

Six beers in a variety of styles from DOT today, proving that even if they don't release as many barrel-aged blends as they used to, everything doesn't have to be standard hazy IPA otherwise.

Spin Off Series Pilsner is brewed for Aldi and is described simply as "a classic easy drinking crisp lager". DOT hasn't named the brewery of origin, but if it came from Third Barrel, I trust it to hit the mark. Although it's an attractive warm gold colour, there's a certain haze to it, so isn't precision-engineered in the German or Czech way. A full 5% ABV gives it plenty of substance, feeling almost like a festbier, bock, or similar supercharged lager. The first pull gives all the malt flavours, with a subtle honey and white bread character. The aroma is freshly leafy, suggesting spinach and lamb's lettuce. This hop side manifests at the end of the flavour, bringing a spicy, peppery bitterness and a rub of acidic damp grass. It's lovely. Easy drinking, sure, but filling and satisfying too. I'm pleased also to find an Irish pilsner with enough hopping to justify the label. You won't find better lager in Aldi, and you'd have to look to the likes of Third Barrel's own Hello Yes? for an Ireland-brewed comparator. I wonder if the recipes are related.

Also for Aldi, there's Spin Off Series Brown Ale. This is a bit of a departure as, when it comes to brown ale, DOT normally can't resist adding coffee or doing something funky with Belgian yeast. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but this unadorned 5% ABV example is very welcome. In the glass it's a deep dark brown, with hints of ruby visible against the light, and a generous fine-bubbled head. A roasty aroma suggests it is drier than the ideal but the flavour pulls back on the severity, adding a milk chocolate richness which balances the dark toasted grain at its centre. I poured mine a bit cold, so that's all there was initially. With a little warmth, the chocolate takes more of a role, and there's a floral side too: a summer garden of honeysuckle and roses. While it doesn't have the flavour impact of the one Rye River does for Dunnes -- the hoppy punch there makes it a different sort of creature altogether -- as a simple take on an overlooked beer style, it's hard to find fault with it. Just be careful about the serving temperature: closer to room than fridge makes it an altogether more enjoyable experience.

The next one is a session IPA, and means it, at just 3.5% ABV. Mid Week is a hazy one: a pale yellow shade, and more or less opaque. The aroma is a mix of citrus juice and woody nutmeg spice, hinting at complexity to come. They've done a great job with the body, and it doesn't feel at all compromised by the low gravity, landing velvety smooth on the palate. With that comes a veritable bouquet of tropical fruit flavour: passionfruit and pineapple lead it out; guava and mango follow, with a growing lime and grapefruit bitterness. Only that it fades out into watery fizz rather than building to sticky sugar tells you that you aren't drinking Lilt. I don't know that I would literally have a session on this, but as a low-strength beer that's jam-packed with big hop flavour and channels the New England aspect well, it's a very welcome creation, and I hope it sticks around. 

It's quite leap from these two to Twilight, a 9% ABV bourbon-barrel-aged imperial stout. Very much the typical sort of thing from DOT. It poured dense and thick, with a fine off-white head on top. The aroma is dark chocolate and boozy liqueur, smelling very classy and luxurious. I was expecting sweet, but there's a deft pivot to drier roast in the foretaste; a tasty coffee smack, with the chocolate running to catch up. It's surprisingly unsweet, for while the chocolate does build, it never quite takes control. A crisp seam of wafer biscuit runs through it from end to end, and although the bourbon is discernible, it remains in the background, speaking softly under the stout, as it too seldom does. The result is a refined and balanced imperial stout, pulling together the correct flavour elements, but holding them in check, so it never gets too sweet or too boozy. I'm sure beers like this don't just happen, and take a lot of skill to produce. Maybe it doesn't have the complexity of a convoluted barrel-aged blend, but it's very fine drinking nonetheless.

I had been planning to wrap things up there, but then the winter seasonal range arrived, with barrel-ageing to beat the band. One in particular caught my eye: Wild Ale III, a mixed fermentation beer aged three years in former white port barrels, then given an extra three months on blueberries. Sounds like my kind of thing. It's a murky pale pink in the glass, looking like a kir. The aroma gives little away, only a nondescript berry tartness. The body is light and there's no real sourness with this one. None was promised, mind, but I wrongly assumed that it would be a central feature. Instead there's a light and cool vinous quality, conjuring real white port, and then spritzy sweet side from the real-tasting blueberries. Some floral perfume and rosewater enters the picture as it warms. It's clean and crisp, and worked well in place of a pre-dinner cocktail. Though 6.2% ABV, it tastes lighter, and there's no heavy oak of the sort that can throw something like this off balance. A little more complexity might have improved it, but as a subtly complex appetite-sharpener, it's a beaut.

Finally, another beer that's fully DOTty. You see, first there was a Cabernet Franc ice wine. Its barrels were repurposed to make single malt whiskey and, years later, re-repurposed for imperial milk stout. The result is Over A Barrel 08, the latest in a series of particularly adventurous barrel experiments conducted in conjunction with TwoSides, the beer brand of Dublin's Brickyard pub. It's more brown than black in the glass, and the aroma really shows off its convoluted heritage, with sharp oaky notes and a spirit heat. Not much sign of the lactose, mind. It is smooth-bodied, however, and I think the milk end of things contributes more to the texture than the flavour, whether or not that's by design. You can taste every bit of the 10.6% ABV, and the booze hit on the foretaste is strong enough to resemble whiskey rather than beer. Behind it, the raw oak again, and the ghost of the wine: a slightly unctuous and concentrated white grape note. Presumably there are normal milk stout features like chocolate and vanilla too, but they were buried too deep for me to taste them, which is a little unfortunate. Overall, I liked this, and I can't really complain that a 10+% ABV whiskey-aged stout was overly hot, but a bit of dark malt beeriness would have been appreciated. It left me feeling that the beer format was merely a vehicle of convenience for all the whiskey and wine characteristics.

Six beers later that's pretty good going by DOT, with some superb examples of their style, going above and beyond the basic specs. They're too wildly different for me to pick a favourite, and as a fan of pilsners, session IPAs brown ales and imperial stouts I can happily say that they all met my needs for these styles. DOT's still got it.

Sweetness and dark

The onset of winter seems to have turned their thoughts dark at Wicklow Wolf. I'm delighted by the offerings they've put forward as a result.

At Halloween, the limited edition series reached number 66, and even though we know Satan's own beer style is New England IPA, they've opted for a black IPA: 6.66% ABV and called Devil's Glen. Like many a black IPA before it, including one I made once, it suffers the cosmetic problem of being more dark brown than black. That they haven't packed it out with dark grain shows in a roast-free aroma, full of bright and juicy citrus, pulling the style's neat signature trick of smelling pale. The flavour is drier and somewhat sweet, with chocolate to the fore, plus some oily coffee bean. The hops aren't long behind, and it's juice again: freshly squeezed jaffa, and a hint of smooth vanilla, suggesting that maybe Beelzebub has had an influence on this one after all. We're back to coffee and black toast for the finish. I prefer a bit more punch in this style; more resin and vegetable than is on show here. This one is gentle and somewhat fluffy, very much pitched at the lily-livered hazebois who can't handle grown-up IBUs. You would never guess its strength from the silky texture and zesty hopping. It may be non-conformist, but I still liked it, as a black IPA and as a beer.

And as soon as the spooky decorations disappear from the shops, out come the stacks of chocolate-by-the-bucket for Christmas. Wicklow Wolf has gone one better than Heroes or Celebrations, and teamed up with Butlers Chocolates -- the high end of mainstream confectionery -- for a beer called Truffle Shuffle. I think it's possible that there are some GenXers in decision-making positions at the brewery. It's a milk chocolate stout, of course, though at the reasonable strength of 5% ABV. They claim a silky mouthfeel on the label, and it is fairly smooth, but there's more fizz than one would accept from silk. The aroma is pretty much identical to hot drinking chocolate, while the flavour is heavily influenced by residual sugar. Its chocolate effect, done with cocoa, lactose and vanilla, is powerfully sweet, and I have immediate sympathy with those continental snobs who insist that what passes for chocolate in this part of the world does not have enough cocoa to be counted as such. The actual cocoa here is a bit of an afterthought and there's a lot of sticky, custardy, toffee-like sweetness to deal with first. It will have its fans, I'm sure, but it's a deeply unserious stout, and even The Porterhouse's daft annual Chocolate Truffle Stout has more of the proper stout about it than this does. I wouldn't be rushing to drink it again, but maybe it'll be the gateway for some Butlers fans into the world of independent Irish beer.

In recent years, the brewery has had an annual cycle of seasonal beers, made with ingredients from its own farm: Locavore. However, where the autumn 2025 Locavore should have been, we got instead an extra special bitter titled Locavore Hop Harvest 2025. It looks like the pattern has been revised. Anyway, this is a dark enough shade of amber to fit the post's theme, and is topped by a terribly handsome thick layer of coarse off-white bubbles. Were it not for a slight hazing, this could pass for cask. The aroma mixes earthy Fuggle tones with light caramel. There isn't much caramel to be found in the flavour, however, with the only sweet element arriving late in the finish. Instead, it's raspingly dry, packed with rough tannins and a twiggy, vegetal bitterness. It fits the style specs closely enough, if somewhat light-bodied for 5.6% ABV, but it's missing a richness and roundness that I think would help improve its drinkability. My feeling is that this is for ESB purists only (I know you're out there) and it was just a grade or two too harsh for me.

A big-ass barley wine to finish. The Still Hand has been barrel-aged with ex-Oloroso whiskey barrels from the brewery's neighbours, Glendalough Distillery. It's 13.1% ABV and a very dark red-brown, almost black. It frothed busily on pouring, settling back to just a skim of foam after a minute. The aroma is loose on specifics but indicates clearly that whiskey barrels were involved in the beer's production, with a warmly boozy waft giving hints of cherry and raisin. The flavour is quite wine-like, though more port than sherry, with a chocolate sweetness at the centre, and dark fruit -- add some fig and prune to the raisin and cherry -- around the edges. For all the initial foam, the carbonation is low, struggling to make itself felt beneath the malt weight. A sticky liquorice bitterness is the hops' token contribution. There's a burn on the finish which is the whiskey again, and a consequent warmth grows in one's innards after swallowing. This is seriously wintery stuff and ideal for cockle-warming on a cold day. I thought at first that the strength was excessive, but it makes very good use of it, and I don't think it would have quite the same multidimensional flavour otherwise. The gold lettering on the can implies luxury, and the beer inside delivers fully on that. My branded pint glass felt a little disrespectful: this is a beer for your best stemware.

One too sweet, one too bitter, but two that were just right (if not perfect). Wicklow Wolf is heading to the end of a very good year of beer releases, as regards both variety and quality. Don't leave us hanging on the winter Locavore, though. We're owed.

Fruit and veg and ice cream

Time was, finding odd fruits, vegetables and spices in beer was a source of excitement for me. These days, I think we're largely better off without them. The wide-eyed innocence hasn't quite gone away, however, so when I spotted that Mad Scientist of Budapest had put out a beer made with spinach, I bought it immediately, against my better judgement.

My better judgement could see that Sippin' On Spinach And Juice is an "ice cream sour", so likely gloopy-textured and overly sweet. Still I was prepared to give it a fair shake. I wish I'd given the can a literal shake before opening it: what poured out was not homogeneous, starting on a watery green trickle, followed by thick pulpy gobbets, settling into the glass looking decidedly bilious: the dull grey-green of institutional vegetable soup, marbled by macerated leaf bits. It looks impressive, but awful.

The beer wasn't as sweet as I expected it to be, and is light-bodied too, reflecting its mere 2.5% ABV. A non-descript tartness is the first flavour manifest, possibly stemming from the kiwifruit in the recipe. There's banana too, and that's next, making it taste like a smoothie even if it doesn't have the density of one. It finishes quickly after that, with no sign of the spinach, nor indeed anything I could pin as ice cream. It's inoffensive overall, certainly once you get past the appearance. I hope I got some health benefit from it, because the taste didn't do anything much for me.

So it wouldn't be lonely, I picked another Mad Scientist beer in the same genre to go with it: Oolong Lagoon, made with peach, apricot and tea. It's only 2.2% ABV, and instead of vegetable soup, looks like carrot soup, which at least is a step upmarket. I was prepared for the thinness this time, and as before there's no vanilla or creaminess to impart the impression of ice cream. Oolong is the absent ingredient in this one: I couldn't find any part of it that tasted like tea. We're spared the banana, leaving just the stonefruit, which tastes tart, juicy and real.

The sour side is less pronounced in this, and while it doesn't have a thick, lactose-derived sweet aspect, there is a tinned-peach element, adding a certain degree of dessertishness. There's another abrupt finish, though the concentrated peach juice does make a return in the aftertaste. It's simple stuff, doing the basics but no more than that.

I really expected more drama from this pair than I got. The only really "wrong" thing here is the presentation of the spinach one; otherwise they're all a bit normal and plain. Their thin textures are where I really felt wrong-footed: ice cream should mean ice cream. I appreciated the modest level of actual sourness but I still won't be making a habit of drinking this kind of beer regularly.

Veering west

Time for another round-up of Irish hoppy beers. I'm not keeping count, but the west coast seems to be on the rise at the moment, whether that's a blip, a renormalisation, or the beginning of the end of haze's autocratic rule of terror. I know which one I'm hoping for.

First up it's The White Hag and the second in their Experimental Brew Series ("XBS V2", for all the tech bros out there): Grapefruit NEIPA. Wow! What will the boffins of Ballymote think up next? It's 4% ABV and very pale yellow with full-on haze, as one would expect. The grapefruit is not hop grapefruit, it's very real and bursting out of the aroma like a jet of juice to the eyeball. From that, I expected big grapefruit in the flavour, but the gravity lets it down. The first mouthful is watery and hollow, in a way that's totally unacceptable for an IPA invoking New England. The first flavour to arrive is dry and gritty dregs, then a little vanilla sweetness followed quickly by an unsubtle hop-leaf bitterness. The grapefruit is last in the queue, and while it's as fresh and authentic as the aroma, it lacks impact, so we're back to fizzy water in the finish. If the purpose of the experiment was to determine whether they should make more beers like this, my answer is please no.

A rare new canned beer from Trouble Brewing, Wouldn't It Be Nice, is a pale ale with New Zealand hops Nelson Sauvin and Wai-iti. It's a bright rose-gold colour and 5.4% ABV. A funky aroma of fermented grass starts things off, while tasting reveals quite a dry base, with more than a little tannin. The hops take a twin-track approach, with juicy tropical fruit in one stream, and then a bitterer vegetal side, all grass and spinach. I don't think it's as simple as one hop doing one thing and the other another, but the end result is nicely balanced regardless. There's a floral perfume finish for some added complexity. The dry side of it makes for excellent thirst quenching, and the invigorating bitterness helps too. This is classically constructed in the old-school fashion, and well suited to by-the-pint drinking. Though nothing fancy, it's quality all the way through.

Next it's Bullhouse in collaboration with Galway Bay, and the beautifully clear golden Old Crows. The ABV gets a boost to 5.8%, though that's probably not strong enough to class it as an IPA by American standards, which they have. The aroma is dry and spicy, like an onion bhaji, with a touch of kerosene. Heady. Crispness is promised on the can and it's as clean and crisp as it looks -- almost lager-like in its angular precision. They don't tell us what the hop combination is, which is a shame, because it's an odd effect. We're promised pine but it's a highly concentrated version of that, intensely bitter to the point of turning harsh and plasticky. I'm sure they meant it to be rock-n-roll extreme but to this old crow it just tasted unpleasant. I always preferred the west coast IPAs with a bit of a blush to their malt; by going fully pale here they have unbalanced the profile and it makes for tough drinking as a result. I'm reminded of the sort of tongue-burners produced by the IBU race of the 2000s. Try this if you have fonder memories of those than I do.

At the same strength is Third Barrel's Dead As Disco, also badged as a west coast IPA. I see maybe a bit too much haze for that to be strictly accurate, but it's an attractive sunset gold colour regardless. A resinous spice dominates the aroma, plus a sideline of tropical fruit which I wasn't expecting but is rather enjoyable. That spice leads in the flavour, a foretaste of peppercorns and capgun smoke. The fruity side of the hops arrives later and is only slightly citric, with a considerable tropical element. So with your lime and grapefruit, there's a bonus topping of pineapple and passionfruit. I'm not going to ding it for that: the effect may be an east-coast thing but it adds a very welcome complexity, and makes it a better beer than if it were just acid all the way through. The finish is clean, with just a hint of crystal malt caramel to round things out. This is pretty good. Though it doesn't show the precise bitterness of, say, Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, it goes its own way, which is validly west coast but with an extra element of enjoyment too.

I'm taking a bit of a punt on the next one, as it's not specifically marked as "west coast" by the brewery, just "American pale ale", so I'm guessing west coast again. This is Renegade, created by Hope to mark the arrival of the NFL to Dublin, and siding with the "home" team for September's game, the Pittsburgh Steelers. Pennsylvania brewery Tortured Souls has been drafted in as collaborator, and the hops are an all-German mix of Hallertau Blanc and Solero. For all that, and 6% ABV, it's not an especially characterful beer. There's little aroma, while the flavour lacks the melon fruit I would have expected of H. Blanc and instead goes for quite harsh and green vegetal notes, cabbage leaf and kale, with a wisp of lemon zest on the finish. This may not have the full-on citrus and pine of the west coast, but it definitely has the punchy and uncompromising bitterness. The malt side is very low key, evidenced by the pale colour (10 EBC, fact fans) and quite a thin texture. Rather like the Bullhouse beer, I found it hard to get along with, and struggled with the unbalanced bitterness. I do at least feel justified in identifying it as belonging to the west coast genre.

No coastal indication is given on the latest from Ballykilcavan. Clancy's Cans #16: Gate Crasher IPA simply says it's "juicy", so I still expected it to be cloudy, and it was. It's quite a deep orange colour, and fairly fizzy, though there's a substantial body, especially for a modest 5% ABV. Fresh hop character is indicated by the pieces of hop leaf I found floating on the head when the beer was poured. The bitterness leads, however: an orangey pithiness, set on an expansive malt base. After a moment, the two sides coalesce into a sweeter orangeade or marmalade effect. It doesn't have the tropicality of most well-made hazy IPAs, and I had hoped the inclusion of Mosaic as a hop would have brought this. They've paired it with Amarillo, and even that isn't one I associate with this level of bitterness. I don't think "juicy" is an accurate description: it's very citric, sure, but in a pith and zest way, not juice. Maybe this belongs with the west coast examples too. 

At The Porterhouse one afternoon in September, I found two new Dublin-brewed double IPAs which I was keen to try. I started with Voodoo Child by Rascals. This is a clear amber gold,  putting us squarely on the west coast, though its 7.7% ABV barely counts as double in that context. Classic Mosaic, Amarillo and Centennial do their job, bringing bags of piney resin and grapefruit spice, overlaid with juicier mango before it's back to the pine for the finish. There's a little caramel sweetness from the malt, but only enough to highlight the hops, rather than  fight with them. This is very nicely done, showing lots of classic American hop quality given a modern kick which is fun without disturbing the fundamentals. Core range material, I reckon.

Two taps over was Disco Devil, new from Lineman. The ABV goes up to 9% here: nearly at the threshold of triple IPA. The aroma is innocently pithy, like Club Orange, and there's a bit of that in the flavour, but... The alcohol is well hidden, I'll give it that, and it took several mouthfuls before I twigged I was drinking a properly strong beer. The main flavour is quite dry, with crisp and husky sesame seed and a peppercorn spice. That's kind of it, though. In the finish there's the clean spirit burn which I used to associate with triple IPA before they went hazy, but no more hop character. It's all a bit basic and unexciting, lacking richness and resins. While it is clean and without flaws, this isn't how I like my double IPAs. As a caneable 9%-er, though, it can't be beat.

There was a late opportunity for redemption with the most recent Lineman release, Punctuate, a straight-up hazy IPA of 5.6% ABV. It looks like orange squash in the glass, so is broadly to style, while the aroma centres on a spicy dankness, hinting at citrus behind. There's not much of a fluff to the texture; in fact it's quite crisp, in a west-coast way, and is the better for it. Similarly, while there's a sweet element in the flavour, it's a sharper orangeade effect, not vanilla cream and (thankfully!) no sesame. Mosaic and Krush in the hop charge should probably have made it more tropical-tasting than it is, but there's only a mild seam of mango and peach, before we're back to the zesty lemon and grapefruit. Despite not adhering strictly to any sub-category of IPA, it works very well, being brightly and cleanly flavoured, balancing exotic fruit flesh against bitter pith, showing the most fun aspects of both. There's a spice complexity too, and yet it's not overwrought or busy, making for some excellent refreshment. Perhaps it's better suited to the summer, but I found it to be a ray of sunshine on a chilly day. Redemption granted.

Finally, the 12th anniversary celebrations for Galway Bay's Of Foam and Fury double IPA continue, with a Hazy TDH edition, wording that would have left us scratching our heads back in 2013. I can't actually recall what the baseline OF&F is like these days, so I don't know how much of a variation this is from it, but it is hazy, and a very modern pale yellow with that. It smells gloriously dank, tropical and citric all at once, thanks to the Simcoe, Mosaic and Chinook hops. The first surprise was the thin body: this was always a beefy fellow, but it's a bit watery in this iteration, despite being 8.3% ABV. With that comes quite harsh and dreggy hop bitterness, all tongue-coating acid and resin, plus a leafy, vegetal unpleasantness. There's a more enjoyable zesty side to it as well, arriving late in the finish after the hop dregs have faded. That's not much consolation, however. A hazy double IPA needs more than just a cloudy appearance; there should be a soft texture and some juice or sweetness too. Yes, this beer is derived from a very old-fashioned double IPA recipe, and it wouldn't be Of Foam and Fury if it had been completely re-engineered from the ground up. As is, however, it's missing the malt warmth of the original recipe, and isn't harnessing the benefits of modernisation. In 2013 we joked about the ridiculousness of overly-bittered double IPAs, wondering who could possibly enjoy them. Those who did have a new one to try here.

It does look like the American-style pale ales and IPAs brewed in Ireland are recalibrating. There's a new hazy amber sort that might claim to be west-coast, or might not, but doesn't resemble the clear crystal malt jobs of twenty years ago. I welcome the diversity, and will end by noting that it's not the style specs that count, it's how well it's done. Hazy or bright, let those hops sing!

Let there be stout

Winter is on the doorstep and isn't planning to leave any time soon. Time to get the stouts out.

Aldi kicks things off, tackling the Big G with its latest beer knock-off, Mulligan's. This copies the 4.1% ABV that Guinness Draught has in the UK, and is brewed at an unnamed British brewery, understood to be SEB Brewing & Packaging in Kent. It has a widget, and it's an eager little bugger, causing the beer to froth out of the can on opening, creating a much too thick head. There's a moderately sweet aroma, of caramel and treacle. The flavour carries that slightly sticky sense as well, but puts it up against an earthy, almost smoky, bitter side. There's a metallic, saccharine tang which becomes more prominent as the beer warms, though we're back to treacle again for the finish. It doesn't bear more than a superficial resemblance to the beer it's ripping off. It's more complex and flavourful, but not in a good way. The taste is quite jarring and a little difficult, as against the smooth blandness of Guinness and the other mainstream Irish stouts. It tastes cheaply made, lacking refinement, and even though it was sold for the minimum legal price, I wasn't happy to be stuck with another three cans of it. 

Going even more traditional is WhiteField. When they call a beer Irish Stout, they mean it. The 7.5% ABV here would be familiar to drinkers of pre-1917 Irish stout, even if it's far stronger than the norm today. There's a pleasing tactile sensation in prising off the cap and pouring a glass of pure black liquid, letting the cappuccino-coloured head form on top. The aroma is faint, but vaguely sweet, suggesting wholesome molasses and fruitcake. That element sits at the back of the flavour, adding a lighter touch to an otherwise quite serious profile. We are warned to expect smoke, and it's the heavy sort: bonfires and furnaces, almost acrid but stopping short of being unpleasant. There's a very wholesome roast, like brown breadcrust and charred beef, and then a dark and tangy liquorice and spinach bitterness. I'm pulling the various features apart here, but really they hang together beautifully, to create a highly satisfying drinking experience; filling and warming, as stout ought to be. This is proper stuff, and bears something of a resemblance to the stronger Guinness beers. I have a lot of time for this kind of thing, and would be happy if the words "Irish stout" denoted it more often than the lacklustre effort above.

Turning fully seasonal, next is Irish Ember, a "Christmas porter" from Brehon Brewhouse in collaboration with Bavarian brewery St Erhard, and presumably intended primarily for Germany as the label is mostly in their language. I'm guessing this was brewed for Christmas last year but it was still on the shelves in Martin's of Fairview where I picked it up a few months ago. It's another attractive pour, looking every inch the old-school porter. I couldn't find details of the barrel the beer was aged in, but from the honey-sweet aroma, I would hazard Irish whiskey. There are some sweet chocolate and coffee vapours too. The flavour opens on a woody, coconut effect, with overtones of dark-chocolate Bounty bars. It's definitely a dessert beer, and tastes stronger than its 7.7% ABV. The downside is the oak, which adds a harshness to the taste that I didn't care for. The chocolatey base beer and the sprightly spirit warmth are both excellent, but the wood sap element prevents it from being the majestically smooth winter beer it's trying to be. Regardless, it's enjoyable, and I can see it being well suited to dark evenings when something appropriately rich and warming, but not crazy-strong, is called for.

For crazy strong we turn to the Netherlands. Moersleutel has brewed Barcode: Nitro Blue with the assistance of Carlow Brewing, which knows a thing or two about making good stout. It's nitrogenated but without a widget in the can, so even after the recommended shaking and a vigorous pour, I got a flat-looking beer with a thin topping of brown bubbles. This system of packaged nitrogenation doesn't work. It's an especially strong fellow, at 14% ABV, and the aroma is very spirituous -- port and brandy barrels have been employed, and it really does smell like the latter. No carbonation makes it soupy thick, like drinking chocolate sauce. The boozy brandy spreads napalm-like across the throat, lasting for ages. I get the impression that a lot of flavour has ended up locked in to the liquid here, but what I found was dark chocolate, runny caramel, hazelnut spread, and a non-specific black liqueur. All of it is loud and simplistic, with no subtle topnotes or counter-melodies going on. In fact, it's all a bit basic. This could have been a good beer if they hadn't messed up the nitrogenation or, preferably, carbonated it. A beer of this strength will bring its own rich creaminess without any added nitrogen, and might be less difficult to chew through that way.

Stout, even in all its varieties, is a mixed bag. The geeks and raters fixate on the really strong ones; know-all pintmen regard 5%+ as dangerous rocket fuel. They're both wrong. 6-8% ABV is where the best work in stout is done, with barrel-ageing and odd ingredients not necessarily an enhancement. I'm glad we could get that sorted out early in the season.