Cryo me a River

Anyone who pays attention to trends within microbrewing will have noticed in recent years the explosion in variety of proprietary hop products. I don't think these assorted extracts and powders and boosters were ever meant to have a consumer-facing role, but brewers seem to love them, and love letting us know that they've used them. Does that get them a discount from the supplier? I wouldn't be surprised.

For my part, I can't help wondering if these enhancers actually enhance the beers in any real way. I've certainly never identified any pattern among them: which ones to look out for and which ones aren't worth the paper their patents were filed on. Rye River, however, has given us an opportunity for some objective evaluation. As "a bit of fun" the brewery made a small batch of its Big Bangin' IPA using Cryo Fresh™ Wet Hops from Yakima Chief, "the new frontier of freshness", designed to produce a just-harvested hop effect which you can deploy year-round. I don't drink enough fresh-hopped beers to put that claim to the test, but I was very interested to find out how this version differs from standard Big Bangin'. So, of course, I tasted them blind.

There's certainly a difference in appearance: one is very slightly hazy while the other is classically crystal clear. My immediate suspicion is the one that was more of a craft operation was left hazy, while the other is clear for the supermarket audience. The hazy boi had a magnificent aroma of pineapple and passionfruit, with a slight background tang of funky silage. All good clean hop fun. The other one has a much plainer smell. It's pleasantly spicy, with a hint of peppercorn and a fainter non-specific tropical fruit behind. Nothing wrong, but it doesn't compete with the other one at all. My initial loose suspicion began to tighten. 

I thought I'd start tasting with the clear one. It's recognisably Big Bangin', which is to say cracker-dry with a more pronounced tropical element than the aroma, turning savoury towards the end, with a rub of white onion. It lacks the intense punchy bitterness on which west coast IPAs built their reputation, but there is a certain acidic kick in the aftertaste which is sufficient to keep it within the style specs. My hazy friend, on the other hand, was strangely malty. I don't know where all the fruit from the aroma went. The hops are mostly doing bitterness here, which is properly west coast but a little disappointing after that fabulous technicolor aroma. Remember the funky silage? It's back in a big way here, balanced against a kind of marmalade or orange sweet side. I guess I was expecting something more New England, given the juice of the aroma, but I was definitely expecting a more intense flavour experience, and since I suspected this of being the cryo one.

And I was wrong. You may already know that from the accompanying photograph, but at time of writing I haven't taken it yet. The stand-out lesson is that standard Big Bangin' from my local Tesco is world class in the aroma stakes, and that's worth the price of admission (less with Clubcard) alone. The cryo stuff does enhance the taste, but not hugely. Importantly, it doesn't enhance the hop flavour, just the bitterness.

My main takeaway here is a new appreciation for standard Big Bangin'. Turns out there's not much that even the boffins at Yakima Chief can do to improve upon it.

Five stragglers

At time of writing, a bit over a week ago, there was still no sign of any new beers from Ireland's breweries in 2026. I'm sure that has changed by the time you read this. It's left me with a rump of a pale ale round-up that's been sitting in my drafts since I published the last one, at the beginning of December. Time to clear the decks. 

For its winter special, Hopfully has avoided all things dark and barrel-aged and given us a pale ale called Snowboard. It does have a bit of heft to it, 5.1% ABV being stronger than the norm for Ireland. It's quite a murky emulsion in the glass, the charmless beige-orange of earwax. Still, there's plenty of charm in the aroma: Columbus, Amarillo and Rakau are advertised, and its the New Zealander which comes out tops first, giving lots of fresh-cut grass and mineral oils, backed by milder citrus juice. The flavour is unexpectedly dank, coating the palate in delicious resins from the first sip. Fruit follows again, this time fresh-squeezed orange juice and tinned peaches. A typically hazy vanilla aspect manifests in the finish, alongside a tiny tang of the kerosene I found in the aroma. I might have liked a bit of bitterness here, but while the beer may not be balanced, exactly, it's still very tasty. Did we need yet another Ambush-a-like on the market? Probably not. But if we're going to get one regardless, I'm glad it's done this well. Props also to the student illustrator (Laurynas Butkus) who created the very cool label design, and of course to Hopfully for commissioning it. Putting named human artists front and centre in their branding, as they have always done, is even more of a noble act these days than it was when they started.

Wide Street has created a new edition of its 2021 black IPA, Neo-Noir, last seen here. There are several differences to the original, but the headline one is the inclusion of Amarillo as its main hop. The ABV has risen slightly, to 5%, and on pouring it turned out quite brown, unlike the previous version's pure black. Roasted grain at tar intensity is the aroma's most prominent feature, but there's a sizeable fresh hop buzz too, a spicy, slightly sulphurous leafy note. You get more of that hopping in the flavour, in a big way. The bittering is quite extreme: a hard resinous burn, and not the sort of thing I associate with zingy old Amarillo. Not that I'm complaining: I really enjoy this sort of aggressive black IPA. The acidity is mouthwatering, while the roast adds a gorgeous, savoury, barbecue seasoning. Maybe a little citrus sunshine would have lightened it nicely, but I'm happy in the dark. This is a connoisseur's black IPA, above entry level. More please.

From black to red, Hōne's is a red IPA from Irish brewing's Lazarus act, Eight Degrees. Named for an 18th century Maori politician with an affinity for the Irish, it's intended as an Irish red ale (a style whose roots are in IPA, as everyone knows) hopped with Rakau and Wakatu (formerly Hallertau Aroma) from New Zealand. 5.2% ABV is a bit beefy for an Irish red, but since most are dreadful watery affairs, that's fine by me. It's a clear, bright red colour with a thin skim of head. The aroma is a sweetly herbal red liquorice effect which is exactly what I expect from red IPA. It's not sticky, however. In fact, the mouthfeel is remarkably light, bringing it in danger of being watery, like a real Irish red. That has a knock-on effect on the hops, muting them. I don't really get the grass and minerals of German-derived Kiwi hops, just a fairly generic tang, reminding me most of the darker sort of English bitter which, again, is where the Irish red style is rooted. This is decent but inoffensive stuff. I definitely expected more poke: red IPAs tend to go big on the caramel malts and big on the resinous hops, a combination I have often found difficult to enjoy. This is mellower, which is good, but doesn't bring enough flavour from either side of the equation to be properly enjoyable. If you'd told me in advance that it's like a red IPA but less extreme, I'd have been all in favour. Now that I have it in front of me, I can see why cranking up the volume knob makes these, if not better, then at least more interesting. It's well-intentioned but I'm not a fan.

I'm throwing an American-style wheat beer into this lot because, meh: close enough, and I don't know where else to put it. This is IBU American Wheat, a recent addition to a range Rye River brews for Tesco. A decade or so ago the brewery began making one of these, at the exact same 5% ABV, for Lidl. My review at the time shows that one as quite an amber colour, though more recent photos online indicate that it has become paler in the meantime. This one is definitely pale, so I'm assuming it's the same beer you can buy at Lidl, and that the recipe has changed enough since 2016 to justify me writing about it again.

A fresh and zesty aroma starts things off well. It has a lovely soft and rounded texture, exactly the sort of thing one hopes to get when wheat is involved. 5% ABV is perhaps strong for a supermarket own-brand, but as usual, there's nothing basic or compromised about the way Rye River makes them. That strength is put to good use creating the body, and also driving the flavour. It tastes full-on pithy: powerfully citric, though more lemon than grapefruit. It stops short of turning harsh, the wheat once again helping, softening the bitterness while leaving the flavour intact. Towards the finish, the lemon turns to candy, adding a sweeter aspect which improves its drinkability. The end result is a characterful crowd-pleaser, not especially complex, but delivering bright and fresh American hops in a streamlined and accessible way. This seems to be a thoroughly unfashionable beer style these days, which is a shame because it's a lovely twist on pale-and-hoppy. Fair play to Rye River who, with their own-label Coastal and Backwaters, now has four of them on the Irish market on a permanent basis. Quality beats fashion every time.

Finally for today, Symmetry is the newest west coast IPA from Galway Bay. It's 6.7% ABV, which I don't consider strong enough to warrant the mandated 33cl serve at The Beer Temple, but I'm sure they know what they're doing. It's properly transparent, so earns west coast points there, but is also surprisingly juicy in the foretaste, like orangeade, with a soft texture. The bitterness arrives only gradually as it goes along, though it's properly to style, with the right amount of punchy grapefruit and pine spice. It's enjoyable, but I would have preferred something a bit sharper and more mouthwatering. That's nitpicking, however. It's an enjoyable beer, and I would have liked a pint of it, had that been on the menu.

There we are now. Mostly. I did single out one other beer, originally intended for this post, to give it some special treatment. Stay tuned for that on Wednesday.

The local crowd

I watch with envy as DOT Brew pours interesting-looking new beers at faraway festivals. I must make do with what they put on the local market, including these two.

Dublin Dime is presumably named for its 5% ABV and is the latest in a long sequence of barrel-aged pale ales created for the Teeling distillery gift shop. It poured a clear bright orange colour at first, murking up when the tail end of the can was poured in. The aroma is zesty and lime-like, an effect which can be attributable to American hops and bourbon barrels, and I suspect both are involved here. It foamed heavily so I was expecting excessive carbonation, but it's surprisingly soft, with a fine and gentle sparkle. The base beer is a sweetly fruity one, with colourful Skittle and Starburst flavours. That's given a more grown-up edge by a lacing of vanilla oak and a slight sharpness which, again, could be either hop bittering or bourbon souring, but may well be both in tandem. It's not obviously barrel-aged, and I'm not sure I would have even noticed were it not how the beer presents itself, but the wood has been used judiciously, to add a subtle complexity rather than the honkingly loud effect found in too many bourbon-aged beers. This is a very decent offering, bringing a small ray of summer sunshine to a dismal winter day.

DOT has a regular strong red ale called Rum Red Dark, reaching version twenty by last year. Something in the programming seems to have changed now, because while this red ale is labelled as batch twenty-one in what appears to be the same sequence, its name is Big Base. I guessed there was no rum involved, and it turns out there are no barrels at all: this is the base beer which will eventually become the next Rum Red Dark. Like the pale ale, it's foamy, overflowing the generously-sized glass I put it in. The body is very dark: more brown than red, and could pass for black. The aroma is a little sickly, all toffee and butterscotch, but the flavour balances that with a drier roasted quality and some berry sharpness, suggesting redcurrant and raspberry. Its ABV is a whopping 10.2% and that's well hidden. While this is no easy-drinker, it's not a hot mess either, and it's the roast intensity which makes it a sipper, not the booze. I enjoyed it, but equally I can see how it would be enhanced by barrel-ageing. There's enough character in the base to mean it won't change drastically, while there's still room for some oaky spirit fun to be clipped on. I will keep an eye out for Rum Red Dark XXI.

Two solidly decent beers from DOT here. The brewery can be relied upon to give us the goods in the strong and barrel-aged space, even if not everything they create makes it into circulation in Dublin.

Old reliable

Today's beer, Death & Taxes, is a black lager which was suitcased to Dublin by Jay Brooks, from California, where it was brewed by Moonlight Brewing. I'm very happy with the choice of style.

It looks like a good example, too, showing a little bit of heft at 5.3% ABV, presenting dense and shiny-black with a beautifully Germanic café-crème head. The aroma is quite sweet, hints of cola and caramel giving me Czech vibes. It's thoroughly lager-clean, even though the body is full, stout-like, and almost chewy. I thought that would mean a big kick of malt, but there's almost no foretaste at all, and for a second I feared it was going to be bland. The flavour was merely delayed, however, and after a couple of seconds there's a wave of burnt grain and sharp mineral hops -- exactly the sort of thing you get from good German Schwarzbier. 

That's pretty much it. Nothing fancy, or silly, happens, and that's generally for the best with lagers, I reckon. The brewery might be a long way from Schwarzbier's natural home, but whoever put this recipe together knew a thing or two about brewing them properly. The result is pure, clean and wholesome dark beer fun. Cheers Jay!

The whips of winter

As usual, the breweries of Ireland collectively slowed the pace of new release beers for the month of January. Luckily, beer squirrel that I am, I had built up a collection of Whiplash's late-2025 offerings to tide me over until the kettles were fired up once more.

A number of local breweries have taken turns in making a Christmas special for the Molloy's off licence chain, and it was Whiplash's go last year. As usual, it's a simple and accessible pale ale, this one 5.2% ABV and given the grand title Winter Hymnal. In defiance of fashion, it's very pale and very clear, with a classic aroma of gently lemony American hops. The gravity is high enough to give it a decent malt substance and quite a sweet character. The hops manifest as lemon curd or candy, soft rather than sharp, despite the "west coast" claim on the label. Don't expect much else: this is an uncomplicated beer, to say the least. It's far from bland, however, and beautifully clean. As usual with these Molloy's beers, they're sort of thing you can lay in for a party and keep all the beer drinkers happy. Or most of them, at least.

Belgian pale ale isn't a style we see much of from local breweries, but Lace Ritual is one such: a collaboration with Belgian-themed Atlanta brewery Bold Monk. It poured clearer than I would have expected for both the style and the producer, turning out a happy sunset gold with plenty of fine white foam on top. The ripe, almost foetid, fruit of the aroma tells us we're in Belgian territory from the get-go. The low carbonation level was the next surprise: the gas must have all gone into the head. That does lower the Belgian quotient a little. The flavour is bitter at first, a pithy bite striking early. This softens after a moment, adding sweet orange segments and a floral complexity, like jasmine and/or honeysuckle (it's been a while since I had a good sniff of a flower garden). The bitter side returns in the end: a little herbal and a little minerally. A nicely full body helps carry all this, though more active condition would have helped too. I've complained recently about Whiplash beers lacking boldness of flavour, and while this could be accused of that, I think the subtlety is in its favour, and it's far from bland. Refreshingly different and very decent, is my assessment. Thanks, presumably, are due to the collaborating partner for taking this out-of-the-ordinary approach to pale ale.

The inevitable hazy IPA in the set is Dream State, a collaboration with English brewery Floc. It's the beige sort of hazy, with a handsome head of loose bubbles on top. Tropical juice features in the aroma, a sweet mix of mango, passionfruit and pineapple derived from Galaxy, Citra, Motueka and Nelson Sauvin. The flavour is clean, but a little plain. I get coconut rather than tropical fruit as its centrepiece, which is dessert of a different sort. Apricot and red apple sits behind this, and little of Nelson's flinty spice. Although it's heavy, and shows all of its 6.5% ABV, it's clean with it, and quite easy to drink. As usual for recent hazy Whiplash efforts, I would have liked bigger and louder regarding the hops, and there's nothing very special here: nothing distinctive or justifying the presence of the visiting brewers. Not all beers of this sort are bang average -- some are actively terrible, others sublime -- but this one is the epitome of fine. I'm of the opinion that there are so many hazy IPAs knocking around that they really need to do something distinctively excellent to be worthwhile. This one doesn't, alas. 

Yet another hazy double IPA follows. Down to the Well is the typical Whiplash 8.2% ABV, though not the typical Whiplash colour, being a dun shade of beige, rather than luminous yellow. The aroma is spiky and bitter, suggesting hop dregs or even raw cones. Azacca and Amarillo have been used, and I thought they would have given it a sweetly fruitsome flavour. Instead, it's bitterness first, thanks presumably to the third hop, Chinook. That's coupled with a heavy texture and lots of heat, two more things that are out of character for the brewery. More subtle mango and cantaloupe arrives late in proceedings, but has to share space with a waxen bite and a teeth-squeaking pithiness. The whole is a bit too hot and soupy for my liking. Drink it cold to make it manageable.

I wasn't sorry to be leaving the hoppy section behind. Whiplash isn't playing a good haze game these days. We move on to the much more enjoyable genre of stout. Shepherd's Warning is an oatmeal and coffee job, with regular coffee-dealing collaborator, 3FE. The roast is off the charts in the aroma, beyond coffee and into full-on carvery: beefy, with deliciously charred edge pieces. The flavour is still centred on coffee, but lighter and more, well, coffee-like. Coupled with a creamy texture, the main taste is that of coffee cake icing, or a coffee-cream filled chocolate: much more sweet and oily than dry and roasty. There's little room left for the beer in that, but I don't mind. Roast is roast, and too many coffee stouts allow the beans to fade into the stout background. That very much doesn't happen here, and it runs a contrary risk of being too coffeeish instead. I liked that about it. It's bold, unapologetic, and makes superb use of both the added ingredient and its blousey 7.5% ABV. One could level a fair accusation that it's nothing but a novelty beer, but few coffee novelties are this colourful, or enjoyable. The coffee isn't a seasoning here, it demands your full attention, and deserves to be given it.

The strength goes up to 8% ABV for Dying Again, though it's in the somewhat plainer style of export stout. It looks great, though: pouring thickly with a very dark tan-coloured head. The aroma is coffee, but much less pronounced than in the previous one, obviously. There's a little buttery toffee too, suggesting it's going to be sweet. But while it is dense with unfermented malt sugars, they've given it a serious dose of hops -- old world, I assume -- for that wonderful balancing kick of vegetal bitterness. I always think of beers like this as a window into stout before the big multinationals eroded it into the anodyne, mass-market beverage it became in the 20th century. This is stout from when it was, well, stout. Atin' and drinkin' in it, to redeploy the horribly over-used Irish beer cliché. After the initial rush of molasses and zinc, there's a gentler summer fruit and meadow flower perfume. It doesn't need complexity, but they've given it some anyway. All told, it's a damn solid, straight up and down, thoroughly proper export stout. Why isn't this the fashion, instead of hazy IPA?

I eagerly await the 2026 releases from Whiplash, especially if there are more big stouts.

Herd impunity

I'm long past due getting some more Western Herd beers on here. I happened across these two recently, though both have been around for a couple of years already.

Presumably aimed at the local crowd, County Clare pale ale was a long way from home when I picked it up in Mace on the South Circular Road. This is a pintable 4.2% ABV and attractively clear and golden, like pale ale used to be. The hops are Citra, Simcoe and Idaho 7 which had me expecting a west coast punch to the face, but the aroma is subtle and more tropical than citrus: a fruit salad, heavy on the pineapple and white grape. So goes the flavour too, the grape quality strong enough to make me wonder if some Hallertau Blanc sneaked into the kettle late on. Depth and complexity are not really features, however, and after the initial juicy pop it all fades away cleanly. There's a deft trick in the way it's refreshing and very easy drinking without being watery or plain. I got through my 440ml can quickly and was ready for another straight afterwards. The flavour profile, branding and general quality makes this a beer that every pub in the Banner should be clamouring to pour.

A poorly-rendered AI image of a circus strongman introduces An Beilgeach Láidir -- The Strong Belgian. This is Western Herd's take on Belgian dark ale, a powerhouse at 8.3% ABV. Though a dark red-brown in the glass, it's surprisingly clear, showing amber when held to the light. The alcohol is very apparent from the get-go, starting with its rum-and-raisin aroma. It doesn't taste Belgian to me. Though it is sweet and fruity, there's a cleanness at its centre, devoid of the estery characteristics of Belgian fermentation. I don't mind, and quite like it. I get a sense of English strong ale, or barley wine, from a continental European brewer which isn't copying the style in the hop-forward American way. Fruitcake and chocolate meet trifle and summer berries for a multidimensional dessert character, plus a little port or madeira oakiness. The carbonation is low, and while the body is suitably dense to accentuate the sweet side, it doesn't get cloying. Instead it has the easy going nature of a light Burgundy, or one of the paler kind of Italian red wines. While it works as a winter beer for sure, I could see it having a summer application also.

Two very different beers, here, but the quality is superb in both.

Mos’ Delft

Following on from Monday's post about New Year in The Hague, I also did a mini pubcrawl in Delft, the charming historic town at the city's edge. I've been here a couple of times before, but always seemed to miss its top-flight beer destinations. This time I was better prepared and ticked off a couple of new venues.

Delftse Brouwers plies its trade at Delfts Brouwhuis, with an extensive draught list of seemingly brewed-in-house beers. We started dark. For me, on the left, is Plagende Pestvogel (charming), the black IPA. It's properly black with a tan, stout-like head of fine bubbles. The aroma is a magnificent mix of rosewater and dark chocolate, just how I like 'em. 6.9% ABV gives it a heavy and smooth texture, another stout-like feature, but the flavour doesn't follow that. It's flowers and chocolate again, a little sweeter than the aroma suggested, so milk rather than dark. There's some candied red fruit too: strawberry and raspberry flavouring, finishing dry. More of a roast bite would have been nice, likewise a proper citrus bittering, but as a sweet example of the style, it does an excellent job. Any halfway decent black IPA will do, in this era of scarcity.

I was intrigued by an imperial porter called Tsarina Esra, remembering that De Molen made one such, way back in the day. Turns out its creator moved from there to here and brought the recipe with him. It's still 10.1% ABV. The aroma gives little away, just a hint of syrupy dark sugar. Syrupy goes the texture too, with a matching molasses and treacle flavour, laced with strong coffee and medicine-cabinet herbs. A bite of black liquorice finishes it off. For all its thickness and heft, there's not a whole lot going on in it. Herself noted that it's a good base for barrel ageing, but is rather plain in this unaugmented form.

Round two brought me Bubbelende Bonobo, described as a champagne tripel, which made it enough of a curiosity for me to order. It's pale gold and mostly clear, and strong for tripel at 11% ABV, presumably due to ravenous champagne yeast. The aroma is oddly sweet, with ripe banana, which I wasn't expecting. That stays in the flavour, though it's definitely dry, sort of like those desiccated banana crisps. Behind this lurks a spirit heat, burning a clean blue flame, and the finish is dry and cracker-crisp. It's an odd beast, missing the comforting soft warmth of tripel, and presenting sharper, more angular, fruit flavours instead. The crisp finish is another twist, and presumably is what the brewer set out to achieve. Full marks for creativity, then, but it's not great as a tripel. Clean around all the banana and you just make it more sickly and cloying. This is an interesting experiment, but not a successful one, in my opinion.

From the bottom end of the guest beer list comes Iced Coffee Connaisseur [sic], Moi? by Dutch Bargain, an 18% ABV icebock with cinnamon and pistachio. Fun fact: 25cl is the default measure; you need to specify (we didn't) if you want the saner 15cl pour. This is stout-black and smells like the inside of a Mon Cheri chocolate liqueur sweet: phwoar! The flavour continues fully in that line. Sweet and slightly salty milk chocolate, hot cherry liqueur, a bonus marzipan richness, and a dusting of drier cocoa powder. It's so rich and smooth I need to upgrade the analogy from supermarket Ferraro candy to high-end rum babas by the sort of Belgian chocolatier who operates from a shop with their name over the door. This is a magnificent confection and, while it's sticky and slow-drinking, there were no complaints about the measure received.

At Café de Wijnhaven I was caught off guard by 't Preuvenemint, number 6 in the Wijlre's Specials series from Heineken's Brand brand. They've advertised it as a grape ale, so it was a surprise to get a big hit of rasher smoke from the first sip: the summer wildfires must be really affecting the crop here. The flavour is dominated by the harsh, kippery smoke of many a poorly-conceived rauchbier, and I found that difficult to get past. The texture is soft, and I detected a similarly-soft fruit character in the distant background, but I would be hard pressed to pin grape on that. This is not subtle, and was hard work to drink. The texture is horribly thin for 7% ABV, leaving a finish of fishy water that I doubt anyone enjoys. While a brave move for a multinational, it's not a good beer. Advertise the smoke up front, for one thing. I still would have ordered it and been disappointed, but it might have saved some civilians an unpleasant experience.

Back in The Hague, I also had a smattering of beers for hotel-room drinking: especially useful as the weather worsened ahead of the regional shutdown which extended our trip by one extra day and one extra country.

It's not often I find a new beer from Amsterdam's Moortgat-owned 't IJ, but here was IJndejaars, a 9% ABV winter ale they have apparently been making for years but which I'd never seen before. The visuals look a bit wet and weedy: a thin amber colour, topped  by a mere skim of shortlived bubbles. It looks cheap. There's a plums-and-raisin fruitcake aroma, while the flavour is dryer, adding breadcrust and black tea, for a kind of barmbrack effect. It's as light as tea, too, and I would never have guessed the strength: there's no chewiness to the malt nor warmth from all that alcohol. This is plain fare. I remember when clean beers were not 't IJ's forte. Since the takeover, they've added a lot of polish and poise to their recipes, but this one takes it a little too far. I could have done with some amateurish, home-brew-like fuzz in it: strong and dark beers don't need precision in the way lighter and paler ones do. This feels a little too corporate and processed, with a lack of warmth which is fatal to any purported winter beer.

A random supermarket pick got me Jopen's Triple to the Tropics, an IPA of 9.5% ABV, though an innocent hazy yellow colour. The promise of a "tropical fruitbomb" is fully delivered upon. The flavour here is a sugary mix of concentrated mango, passionfruit and pineapple, with the booze element strong enough that it could pass as a sticky Mediterranean liqueur. And that's it, really. No bitterness is mentioned, and none is delivered. Sweet fruity booze is your lot. On the one hand, I quite enjoyed the clean, one-dimensional, simplicity; but on the other I thought that if beer is going to go for the big numbers strengthwise, shouldn't there be a complexity of flavour which comes with that? It's quite an exotic delight that a triple IPA was being sold in a supermarket at all: that's a sign of a mature beer market. At the same time, this is supermarket-grade triple IPA: good, but basic, with no individual characteristics. If someone had thrown it in the shopping basket because it's the sort of thing I like, I wouldn't object, although it's not something I would have purposefully chosen for myself again. Good on Jopen for continuing to brew such adventurous crowd-pleasers, and selling them to the big retail multiples.

Via The Hague's specialist beer off licence FreeBeer, one from Espiga. Black Break is pitched as an Irish stout. For that, it's a broadly correct 4.5% ABV, but it's heavy for it, feeling properly creamy from the can. It's a bitter chap, combining an assertive dark roast -- ristretto coffee and high-cocoa chocolate -- with the green bitterness of boiled cabbage and spinach. There's no sweet side to balance that, and I don't think it's missed. This is Irish stout just the way I like it: austerely bitter with fully tasteable old-world hops; dry all the way through, with a spark of galvanised steel. Mwah! I don't think I've ever encountered this sort of profile at such a low strength; I didn't think it was possible, but I'm all in favour of more if it. Irish brewers have something to learn from what the Catalans have done here.

The Rott brewery of Rotterdam is so pleased with its name, it appends it to all of its beers. I only had the one: Rott.Eclipse, an imperial stout. Nothing fancy has gone into it or been done to it, and it's 10.2% ABV. The flavour centres on big chocolate, smooth and luxurious, and perfectly balanced between sweet and bitter. There's a little coffee and a hint of cherry fruit too, the extra complexities borne up on a heady cloud of alcohol vapours. That's really all I have to say about it. It's a classy number, and very typical of the kind of excellent imperial stouts that Dutch breweries produce. It's a beer to properly relax and unwind with.

Rotterdam was one of the cities we passed through while making our escape via Brussels. For train drinking, I brought Bird of Prey from Uiltje. This is another of their IPAs, 5.8% ABV, and constructed very much in the old-school American way. Which is to say, it's almost clear and smells of concentrated citrus: grapefruit and lime. The bitterness hits first in the flavour, a tongue-pinching pine resin. The pithy fruit gives it a zingy middle, fading gradually to reveal the malt base, leaving quite a retro caramel finish. The brewery makes no claims to west-coastism, and indeed the can copy mentions hazy and tropical. It is sweeter than a full-on west coast IPA but I think the flavour profile is closer to that than New England. That's a good thing, and it's an enjoyable beer. Not one to be overlooked just because it's ubiquitous and produced by a big brewing conglomerate.

That was it for this trip. I recommend The Hague and Delft as beer destinations, though I'm now more wary than I was about going there in the depths of winter. Being snowed in, even for a day, isn't as much fun as it might sound.