A toast to the roast

International Stout Day rolled around again in early November and, as usual, Diageo pulled out the stops to celebrate in style at their Open Gate Brewery. This year the focus for guest beers was on local brewers, which was heartening, especially since Irish brewers have been turning out some magnificent stouts lately. And of course there was a selection of stout specials from Open Gate itself. That's where I'll start.

The Open Gate Baltic Porter was the first surprise, and everyone I know who got one double-checked with the bar it was correct. OK, 6.8% ABV is a little low for the style but the colour was way off: a clear coppery shade of red. Most unorthodox. But beer isn't for looking at and I couldn't fault this on the flavour. There's a clean lager base, set upon which is a spicy noble hop flavour, tasting like rocket to me, but with side notes of spinach and basil too. The texture is light and it avoids the intense bitterness that can make the style difficult to drink. Had it been badged as a bock nobody would have blinked an eye, on International Bock Day at least.

Coming off the back of a Rugby World Cup with matches in the morning: Stout of the Rising Sun, a 0.5% ABV job. This was a murky brown colour and very thin and sweet, like cold sugary tea. It was a lot less convincing than the non-alcoholic stout they released on ISD last year.

The final Open Gate beer of the evening was Cocoa Nut Porter, which was even murkier with a similarly poor head retention. We're comfortably back amongst our vices, however, with a sturdy 6% ABV. Despite this it's another thin one, not making great use of either the gravity or the special ingredients: some basic milk chocolate and barely-there coconut oils. I like my novelty beers to scream their silliness at me; this merely whispered.

It was lovely to see two beers from new Northern Irish brewery Heaney on the blackboard -- my first time getting to taste them.

Heaney Irish Stout is, as the plain name implies, a very straightforward affair. The principal nod to individuality is a mineral, chalky dryness rather than one derived from roast flavours. I got a very slight pinch of savoury soy sauce too. Other than that, all is as it should be.

I got a touch of vertigo going from this all the way to a gingerbread imperial stout from the same brewery. Can't Catch Me has a huge and very real ginger aroma which hooked me from the get-go -- remember what I said about screaming novelties? The texture is smooth, while a relatively modest 8% ABV provides all the mellow warmth that's required. The flavour really delivers well on the name, being wholesome and spicy. At the same time it's not overly sweet, and maybe ginger nut biscuits are a better comparator than ginger bread, but either way it's an absolutely marvellous beer.

The award for daring recipe of the evening goes to Dead Centre for their chocolate pretzel stout, Hansel & Pretzel. I don't think I've ever eaten a chocolate-coated pretzel so I can't judge how accurate this interpretation was. To me it tasted inappropriately dry and a bit papery, like it was oxidised. I got a twang of putty too. The best feature was the texture, all weighty and creamy, helped along by 6.6% ABV. It just didn't have the depth or richness of flavour to match that, however.

On to the final flight, and that brought an interloper: Garnet from Rye River -- a brown ale! An imperial brown ale, specifically: 9.5% ABV after some time ageing in Cognac barrels. This is their latest seasonal release, out now in 75cl bottles. How is it? It's hot: a very spirituous burn all the way through, with a sharpness which recalls ill-advised cheap brandies from disreputable airport shops. It does mellow with time, bringing a light floral complexity -- lavender and violet -- plus a tang of lemon aspirin. Overall, though, I found it a little sickly. The brandy is laid on quite thickly and I'm not sure the base beer is able for it. Imperial stout is the barrel ageing cliché style, but that's with good reason

DOT toed the line with this final pair, though information about them was thin on the ground. I will assume that Ron Burgundy was wine-barrel aged, based on both the name and the mahoosive kick of fortified red wine I got from it. Somehow, at 10.2% ABV, it avoids tasting boozy, instead showing rich raisin and grape notes. A stout purist might quibble over the lack of dryness or bitterness but I didn't mind; this is one of those well-upholstered, sinkable-into, luxury sippers.

Very Sherry was the day's strongest: 12% ABV. Very whiskey, I thought: with a cereal base and then lots of warm spirit high notes. There's a fascinating herbal complexity I wasn't expecting and can't explain, making it taste strongly of vermouth. Again this one has lost its core stoutness (wish I could!) but is still very decent and balances the base beer against the special effects very well.

Thanks to the Open Gate crew for the opportunity to taste these, in the company of some of the beer world's finest content creators whom they shipped over for the day. Viva stout!

What fresh Hells is this?

I regularly take a shortcut through the drinks section of M&S in the Jervis Centre, occasionally stopping to see what's on offer. As well as the own-brand beers, there are often mainstream ones not available anywhere else in Dublin. What caught my eye in October was Harvest Hells, a brand extension of the now-iconic London lager Camden Hells. The ABV was the same at 4.6% ABV and I couldn't figure out the difference so bought one of each.

The answer came as soon as I started pouring: it's brown! Or at least a properly autumnal dark russet. Closer inspection of the can shows it includes CaraRed and Carafa Special III malts, which explains it perfectly. While the body looks lovely, the head fades quickly, leaving it looking like a sad glass of brown bitter. It smells a bit like one too: a vague twiggy, "beery" smell. It tastes like a very plain and thin lager with a dose of caramel added. There's a certain crisp, roasted quality and some extra richness, so I think this does fulfil its remit of being an autumn beer. It's not an especially good one, though -- the flavour being not quite integrated enough. I think they should have raised the ABV a bit.

The reference can of Hells I drank immediately after was a lot more enjoyable. Brand extensions can be a bit of fun, but Camden's superb lager did not warrant one.

On the reintroduction of wolves

There were no half measures in the relaunch that Wicklow Wolf just undertook. It centred around the big and shiny new brewery in Newtownmountkennedy, but also included a brand refresh, a format switch from bottles to cans, and a raft of new beers. Sessioners Elevation and Eden survived the update, while Arcadia has been rejigged from warm-fermenting blonde to fully fledged lager. The IPA, porter and red, however, have been completely replaced, and in this post I'm looking at the new starting line-up, plus a few specials.

Wildfire is the brewery's new take on red ale, or possibly amber, given that it's officially "hoppy". It's quite a dark take, showing only faint red tints through the garnet. This is replacing their Sorachi Red and I get a definite bang of pithy coconut Sorachi Ace right in the middle of the flavour. Around it it's a bit thin, the texture watery and the flavour sharp. The malt side of the equation is understated: no toffee or caramel here; not much more substance than you'd find in a cup of strong tea. This feels tokenistic: we have to have a red; let's do Smithwicks with a more interesting hop. It'll float many a boat I'm sure, but not mine.

The centrepiece IPA is named after another extinct creature: Mammoth. Wicklow Wolf's distant roots are in Colorado, hence their launch with their original 6.3% ABV IPA. That's crazy strong for an Irish IPA so here they've brought it down to... 6.2%. It's not that different, really: a big hit of grapefruit and orange pith; a malt weight which exists solely to propel the hops. There's a slight metallic tang, but setting that aside it's very clean, delivering the hard 'n' hoppy flavours any '90s kid will lap up. With modern IPA splintering into a million variants, not all of them worth drinking, it's good that there's still a bitter hoppy core present and visible.

It doesn't really make sense to think of Apex as a replacement for Black Perle Porter, but it is the only black beer in the line-up. It's an oatmeal stout at a big 6.5% ABV and plays up to that from the moment the can opens. The pitch-black beer pours out thickly and slowly, forming lots of nicotine-coloured foam. It smells like a turf fire on a cold night: acrid yet somehow comforting, a mix of bitter herbs and burnt toast. The bitterness is intense from the first sip, giving it an almost grassy kick. When this fades there's strong coffee, a tang of tobacco and a light spritz of rosewater. These are all classic, stouty, stout flavours, not quite balanced but skewed towards a very grown-up bitterness. I really enjoyed the effect, and would quite happily have everything ramped up a level or two higher, but I know that wouldn't be to everyone's taste. Recently I wrote how much I enjoyed the straightforward stylings of Lineman's Astral Grains, well here's another very much in that vein.

The sequence hits the crescendo with Pointy Shoes, a bourbon barrel imperial stout. I only just noticed that the branding is still the old one. Well, if you're going to go out, go out on 12.5% ABV. Despite the strength it's very easy going, light on the alcohol warmth and with elements of coffee, coconut, vanilla and churro sauce. With my imperial stout scorecard out I'd say it lacks bitterness, the sort found in Apex, but as a smoothed out barrel-aged take it's up there with the best.

Berliner weisse next, and I think Vice Vice Baby may be the first I tried from the new brewery, back in early October. It's strangely clear for the style: another pure gold glassful. It's not any way sour either. I get a dry wholegrain crispness but that's as close to the style as it comes. There's a briny, sweaty musk and a bizarre sugarpill sweetness. I imagine this is what you'd end up with if you forgot to add the souring culture to a straight-up Berliner weisse, though I'm sure that's not what happened. The end result is a clean and thin beer, screaming out for a tartness which it just hasn't been given.

I was privileged to have visited the Wicklow Wolf hop farm back in the summer. They've been turning out the Locavore series from there this last few years: an annual all-Irish beer (or two) in a spread of styles. Saisons, blondes and pale ales have all lent themselves to the muted tones of Irish-grown hops, but this year they've gone dark: Locavore 2019 is badged as a dry Irish stout. Well, it is and it isn't. For one thing the ABV is up at 5.5%. For another, the flavour is beautifully complex, bringing rosewater, cocoa, tar and pipe tobacco. It's a lot more complex than the norm. I find it hard to believe that the hop character here was grown in Leinster but it really forms a centrepiece to this. We're far from everyone else's idea of Irish stout: this is closer to the top end of London porter. Maybe it's time we reclaimed it.

Last of the string is Dawn of the Red, an imperial red ale aged in bourbon barrels. It comes out at 9.4% ABV and smelling all of that: big on the oak, coconut and red liquorice ropes. The texture is heavy and that's fully part of what it does; the oak vanillins spread quickly to the back of the mouth from the first sip onwards. Though the wood is sharp, verging on harsh, there's a smooth and balanced aspect, brought by the malt. A lot of work has gone in to making this beer taste like this. I like the end result: all the malt and all those bourbon barrels. If super-strong barrel aged red is your schtick, here's 440ml of it.

Do one thing and do it well is very much not the Wicklow Wolf motto, if these early offerings are anything to go by. In particular, the brewery seems to have found a new knack for stout. Long may that continue.

Rotters!

What do you mean there's no after party? My plan for the 2019 Borefts Beer Festival was to skip the Friday and use the spare day instead to go to the Borefts After Party held on Sunday at Kompaan in Rotterdam. Except this year, because the brewery is moving, they cancelled it. I was chagrined, and went to Rotterdam anyway, in the pissing rain, out of spite.

First stop was the bar-on-a-boat Vessel 11. They have a range of house beers here though not everything was available. Classic Red was served on cask but wasn't terribly well kept, arriving murky and headless. It's 4.8% ABV and bitter to the point of tartness, though with lots of floral perfume flavour to offset that. Overall there's a bit of a rough homebrew vibe off this, but it has a certain raw charm as well.

L-R: Session Stout, IPA, Classic Red

V11 IPA is a bright orange colour and all of 6.4% ABV. This is a much cleaner and more polished affair all round: hooray for keg dispense, saviour of beer! There's a decent layer of foam, and fresh flavours of cantaloupe and mango. A mild orange-pith bitterness provides just the right amount of balance without interfering. It doesn't taste anything like the strength and I would happily have gone for another in a bigger measure.

It's back to the cask for V11 Session Stout, so bye-bye head retention, and indeed carbonation generally: this arrived quite flat. There's a small herbal complexity with a touch of cola nut but it should be doing more at 5.5% ABV. Burnt caramel and slight clove effect finishes it off. There are no off flavours, and I think what's there would be beneficially boosted if they got the carbonation right.

The Gebrouwen door Vrouwen brand, run by two sisters from Amsterdam, seems to be becoming more prevalent on the Dutch beer scene. Here I tried Gember Goud ("Ginger Gold"), a pale ale with added ginger. It's a meek 4.6% ABV and yellow with just a slight haze. The aroma is like ginger ale mixer more than beer, heavy on the sugar. Refreshing lemon and ginger in the foretaste is followed by a more serious throat-burn. While it offers thirst-quenching summer fun there's also real character, and it's not bland or designed to fill an unfussy market niche.

Our next stop was Bokaal, quite a hip and modern beer café, glass-walled on three sides. Left to right, then, Hijs IPA is by Drift Brouwers and is an orthodox 6.5% ABV. I was wary of the toffee aroma, taking it as a sign this would be under-hopped. And while it's no US-style citrus explosion it does have a complex character all its own. A cedar and incense spiciness is at the heart of it, accentuated with a pleasingly thick and greasy mouthfeel. Although it's bitter enough to count as an IPA there's a touch of dubbel-style fig as well. This is a stately and charming beer, coming more from the Low Countries tradition of brewing than any fast foreign fashion.

Beer and beards, right? I had no idea there's an entire beard-themed beer brand in the Netherlands: De Bebaarde Brouwer. It makes Stoppelbaard Stout, 6.5% ABV and insanely fizzy, turning it annoyingly difficult to pour. There's a bitter dark chocolate aroma and a flavour rich with churro sauce, all of which would be lovely on a smooth base but the hyperactive carbonation here really harshes the mellow. A milky coffee sweetness emerges as it flattens out, but by then everyone was bored with its shenanigans. Sort your conditioning out, beardos.

Finally for here, Seagull, a pale ale from 4 Islands Brewing, a local contract operation. It's a clear lemon yellow with a meringue aroma. The flavour offers soft peach and plum, muted a little by a hard carbonic bite, and finishing on a sterner pith. This is another happy-summer-sunshine beer, even though the bitter sets it a little out of kilter. Good rather than brilliant, I'd say.

Back out into the deluge then, and along the banks of the Rotte to Noordt, a modern shed-like construction in the courtyard of some apartments. Most of the building is a shiny production brewery but there's a front shop with a small taproom.

Left to right again we have Lager Single Hop Mandarina Bavaria, which seems explanatory enough but they've also badged it as an India pale lager. It's oddly dark, a clear copper brown shade. The aroma begins early with the oily hop resins and the texture is correspondingly thick, completely out of character for a lager at 5% ABV. I wouldn't have classed Mandarina as an especially dank hop, but whatever way they've used it here is weedy as hell, albeit shot through with orange oil. It's quite a pleasant effect. File under "good pale ale" rather than anything lagery, however.

L-R: Lager Single Hop, 7 Hops, Madagascar

While we're playing fast and loose with styles, 7 Hops is called a "double pale ale" which seems unnecessarily confusing. It's 7% ABV and, godammit, an IPA. I can see what they're getting at, though: it's light and clean, with a jaffa zestiness and undertones of coconut, hazelnut and red apple. I reckon there's a sweet spot when combining hop varieties: single-hop beers are often one-dimensional, while those with seven or more lose any hop distinctiveness, becoming the flavour equivalent of brown plasticine. This one is fine, but if a lot of effort went in to designing the recipe it wasn't really worth it.

Two pales and a dark: that's the system, so we finish Noordt on their Madagascar Dark Chocolate Porter. At 8% ABV and with an M&S-soft-foodporn name one might expect a certain richness, but for some reason breweries that call imperial-stout-strength beer "porter" tend to make them very dry. This one is all cocoa powder and burnt toast, with a sort of salty chocolate effect that tastes cheap, not luxurious. It's drinkable, and not technically flawed, but quite rough and difficult.

Noordt didn't hugely impress me with this randomly-chosen three, but they seem quite busy and with a big range. I fully accept that they may have much better offerings on the go.

The final stop was Proeflokaal Reijngoud, a sporty corner pub seemingly tied to the Reijngoud brewery elsewhere in town but which didn't sell any Reijngoud beers. Anyone know what that's about?

Let's start with the stout this time: Kompaan's Bloed Broeders, 9.1% ABV and as imperial as you like. It's a deep black colour and fairly flat. There's enough carbonation to push out a rich coffee aroma. From that follows a sumptuous flavour, mixing chocolate, raisin, mocha and Turkish delight, and while it's not off-the-charts strong it does provide a very satisfying warmth. This isn't an extreme stout, just a very well-made one. I can almost forgive them calling off the festival.

I could not go past Brło Berliner Weisse when I saw it on the menu, it being one of those contemporary reference beers / modern classics which I'd never had. And I wasn't hugely impressed by it. It's 4% ABV and a clear golden colour. The aroma is mildly tart with a grainy cracker side that's par for the course with these. A light sourness sits next to a chalky alkalinity, with a squeeze of lemon juice, a swoosh of celery and a watery finish. It's fine but I was expecting something much more involved.

That just leaves the thirsty tiger. Ramses's Den Dorstige Tijger is an IPA, a deep dark red one at 6% ABV. Unsurprisingly from the appearance it's thick and jammy, the innocent floral perfume getting squashed quickly by a heavy herbal bitterness with harsher notes of aspirin. It's tough drinking but certainly holds one's attention to the end.

And that, indeed, is the end for this trip. Despite what I said after my last visit, Rotterdam is hard work to make the most of, being spread out in that mid-20th-century urban planning way. If you're going, do your homework better than I did.

Time to get silly

With one eye on the clock and one on the ABVs it was time to bring the 2019 Borefts Beer Festival to a close.

The first strong 'un comes from Poland's Browar Artezan and is called One of Each. Imperial porter is the designated style, and 11% ABV the strength. It poured quite flat and had a stark burnt taste: burnt toast and burnt caramel. It rounded out a little as it warmed but nothing more charming than stewed veg emerged from this. Smooth and luscious this ain't; more weird and difficult. Not fun.

Kees brought a concoction called NY Blueberry Cheesecake With Chocolate & Maple Topping. "Pastry stout" adds the festival programme, helpfully. There's a very sweet cocoa aroma from this while it tastes like affogato: thick sticky coffee and bags of sweet vanilla. A sprinkling of hazelnuts and toffee sauce arrive late. The name has presumably been chosen to drive traffic to it but it doesn't really deliver on everything promised. It's nice, though; not letting novelty drown out the solid imperial stout it's based around.

My beer of the festival came from Americans Olde Hickory: their Photon Sphere barrel-aged imperial stout. It's light-textured for 11.9% ABV with no booze heat, just a gentle soothing warmth. The flavour mixes coconut and milk chocolate with a red berry complexity, finishing on rosewater and Ruffle bars. This is a perfect dessert beer, giving great value even in a sample-sized measure.

De Dochter van de Korenaar mostly brought their core range, from which I had never tried Sans Pardon imperial stout so gave that a go when I called by their stall. It looked the part: a pure obsidian black. The aroma is roasty and there's lots of very grown-up bitterness. 11% ABV gives it a round smoothness rather than gimmicky sweetness or booze wallop. In a festival full of weird twists and takes, it was refreshing to try one as straight-up as this before returning to the madness.

And De Molen had plenty of madness on offer. I only got to taste three from their extensive line-up, plus another on which they collaborated. We begin with Decadent & Dutch, a stroopwafel barley wine. Not my first stroopwafel beer, and not the first where I have to say it doesn't taste like waffles. It looked awful, headless and swampy, but tasted decent. I got a mild stewed-apple fruit warmth from it, but not much else. This is the simpler sort of 10.1% ABV pastrified barley wine.

From there to an almond macaroon imperial stout called Trust & Effort. This one does indeed smell of almonds, but also of marker pens. It's intensely sweet and the almond flavour is tacked-on, like a bucket of amaretto has been simply dumped into the fermenter. The base stout is lost in this, and as it's 10% ABV I think it's reasonable to expect some sort of stout character. It's a bit silly, but if you paid for the novelty it certainly delivers on it.

Side by Side strong ale was pouring at the Hair of the Dog bar, it being a collaboration between the Portland brewery, De Molen and Tamamura Honten of Japan. It's 11.5% ABV and has an abundance of the signature liquorice flavour I get from lots of HoD's wares. Bourbon barrel ageing has given it an extra smoothness and warmth: you definitely know you have a big beer on your hands. For all that, it's quite easy-going; rounded, mellow and very pleasant. If it wasn't almost departure time this would be one to sit over.

But the train wouldn't wait. The departing beer is, perhaps appropriately, Seek & Destroy, the only single-figure job in this set, at a piddling 9.4% ABV. The brewery claims it's a spiced imperial stout but I got no spice from it. Instead there's a savoury cola-nut taste, and a medicinal coal-tar bitterness with an edge of burnt plastic. Whatever they did to this poor beer, I don't think it worked as it was meant to. Oh well.

So much for Borefts 2019, then. Bring on the after party!

On trend

You get a decent selection of beer types at the Borefts Beer Festival. I tend to skew towards sour and funky while the missus prefers strong, dark and sweet, but there's generally a good line in pale 'n' hoppy too. Today I'm looking at a smattering of them.

A custardy yellow New England-style IPA to begin: New Lands, brewed by Romanian brewery Wicked Barrel in collaboration with their countrymen Hop Hooligans. It's a powerful one at 7.5% ABV though has surprisingly little aroma coming forth. A sharp mintiness is the first flavour, flashing briefly before being replaced by chalky grit and hot yeasty dregs. A vague celery greenness is the only other nod towards the hops, which were doubtless added in quantity but somehow sank almost without trace. I briefly lament the state of modern IPA and move on.

Hard on the heels of the New England IPA comes the brut IPA, represented here by Brutalism from Spanish brewery Yria. Now here they've got the benefit of the hops. I usually find brut IPAs taste washed-out, but this absolutely sparks with hop goodness, from the heady dank aroma on to the aggressive bitter spinach punch of the foretaste. It takes a bit of a wrong turn after that, giving the nasty savoury caraway I often get from Mosaic, and I confirmed from the programme that Mosaic is indeed the culprit. In its favour, the brut effect does mean the flavours are clear, clean and distinct, it's just that I didn't particularly like them.

We continue running down the IPA subgenres with Monyo's Bipolar Bear, a white IPA. Remember them? The problem with these tends to be a soapiness, I'm guessing from the combination of hops and coriander. This one, however, leans heavy on the lemon zest, almost tasting like a plain witbier. The ABV is up at 6.1% giving it more substance than that, and late in the flavour there's a delicious hop perfume taste without any bitterness. It all works very well together, drawing on the best aspects its parent styles: bold and complex, yet refreshing and easy.

Beating that to the title of dodgiest name of the festival was Love You Long Time, a sour IPA with Thai ingredients: lime, lemongrass and horapa (Thai basil), coming from Van Moll in Eindhoven. There's a sweetly tropical passionfruit aroma, and I shouldn't really have been surprised to find it tastes like spicy Lilt, but it does. I can't really unpack that much further than mixed tropical juice and a fresh chilli piquancy. Overall it's beautifully refreshing, if a little on the sweet side.

Leeds brewery North hasn't put a sub-style qualification on their Sea of Tranquility IPA, but I'm calling it for New England anyway. It's bright yellow for one thing, and opens with meringue and lemon curd notes. A lime citrus bite completes the picture, keeping it from turning into too much of a custard dessert. There's no yeast interference here: the flavours are in perfect sharp focus and the whole thing is deliciously invigorating.

The other northern English brewer at the party was Wylam, who brought Danse des Coco. Coconut IPA? Go on then. This is a hazy pale orange colour and the flavour is a strange mix of citrus, tropical juice and... nail varnish solvent. I couldn't really pick out the coconut. The hops remain in the ascendant, through to the strongly bitter finish. It may not have presented the coconut novelty promised but it was fun to drink.

It's the Finns next: a New England IPA by CoolHead called Juiciness. I always get a bit apprehensive with names like this as they are often applied to beer inappropriately. And this one wasn't really juicy either, full of pithy orange — skin, zest and fizzy Orangina — accompanied by a strong waft of garlic in the aroma. There's none of your custardy softness here, not any vanilla taste or dirty dregs. So while it's not juicy it's just a very decent IPA and I have no complaints.

Not an IPA, but I'll throw another CoolHead in here, brewed in collaboration with New Yorkers Finback. Melting Dreams is described as a "nordic sour" and is 7% ABV. This is a clear yellow colour with only a slight haze. A lemon sherbet aroma is followed by a punchy tartness; lemon juice and even lemon skin. Once past the initial shock there's meadowy lavender and a quite lambic-like wax bitterness. This is an intense experience from start to finish, but an enjoyable one too.

Finality, for today, comes in the shape of Death by Hops from Olde Hickory, a brewery in North Carolina. That name writes a very big cheque but the date on it must be quite a few years ago. This 7%-er is amber coloured and goes all-in on the IBUs, producing a powerful, palate-stripping bitterness. I looked for nuance behind this but was unable to identify a single flavour descriptor to include in my review. Not even a grapefruit. It's fine, but a total throwback to when front-loading your hops was all you needed to do to impress with an IPA.

That was the day's last IPA, but several places from being the last beer. With time running short, the stronger stuff was beckoning.

One day, three mouths

I came away from the 2018 Borefts Beer Festival at De Molen feeling it had been a bit of a chore. Not enough to sack off 2019 completely, however, but we decided that one of the two days would be enough. On the other hand, I had a second companion to steal beer from (thanks Robert!) and got through a satisfactory quantity over the six hours we were there.

Proceedings began at the stall of underrated Swedish brewery Dugges. Their Tropic Thunder turned out to be another of those fruited sour beers that aren't really sour. This is 4.5% ABV, pale yellow in colour and very fizzy. There's a huge breakfast-juice effect, teeming with passionfruit, mango and peaches. I give it a pass because it's not overly sweetened and does stay on the happy side of refreshing. On a warm day I would be glad of it.

Fifty Fifty is also purportedly sour but isn't really and this time the ABV is an unreasonable 6%. The odd combination of flavours used here is raspberry with liquorice. I didn't get any of the latter, though my companions both did. For me it was largely a one-dimensional jam-flavoured raspberry job, though at least it's not heavy or hot. I was expecting something more daring than what I got.

Another Dugges beer showed up at the table later: Big Idjit imperial stout. This was much more the sort of thing with which I associate the brewery. Though a screaming 12% ABV there's a beautiful three-way balance between chocolate and caramel sugar, a wholesome wheaty dry side with plenty of roast, and an old-world bitter punch. It's a very grown-up and mature combination, something I have no qualms about celebrating when I find it. Faith is restored.

Dugges was being kept company in Swedish Corner by Borefts veterans Närke. From them I tried Rainbow Warrior, one of their regulars: an American style IPA. American in the old-fashioned style, this being 6.8% ABV, a clear rose-gold and massively thick and resinous. An unfettered bitterness runs rampant through it, the malt amping up the hops and shirking any balancing duties. I loved how full-on it is and while I wouldn't want a festival full of beers like this, one example brightened my day.

L: Gigantic IPA, R: Ginormous

OK, two examples. Hot on its heels came Gigantic IPA from Gigantic of Portland. This is a bit of a throwback; hazy but not in the modern yellow way, showing instead a bright and cheery orange. The aroma is mandarin and cedar, and the spice from the latter comes right through into the flavour, joined by a spritzy sherbet tang. A strong but not excessive bitterness balances the fruit and spice and brings a layer of pine resin to the finish. This is a rock-solid, citric American IPA, bang on the appropriate style strength at 6.9% ABV. I hope it got some love from the crowd, other than by nostalgic old guys like me.

The beer beside it is... confused. A gin barrel IPA was in the programme, just above an IPA with pineapple and tangerine, called Ginormous. The latter was ordered in the belief it was the former, so there ensured much sitting around confused about the lack of gin character. What we actually had was another retro west-coast IPA, this time of the double variety. It's heavy, 8.8% ABV, and with more toffee than hop kick. Disappointing, but we move on.

From Alvinne came another fruited iteration of their Flemish oud bruin. Cuvée Freddy Bosbes (named after the dad from Bread) is the one with blueberries and is 8% ABV, pouring a deep red-brown colour. There's the intense balsamic vinegar nose typical of the style, as thick with resins as it is sharp with acid. The vinegar dominates on tasting, backed by a meeker raisin fruit and a touch of chocolate. As is too often the case with Alvine, that intense sourness overpowers everything else, and it's tough drinking as a result. You may look elsewhere for blueberries.

A more successful funk was brought by Italian brewer La Calavera in their Bretternity barrel-aged grape saison. It's a bruiser at 8.6% ABV, displaying lots of horse in the aroma, and then a flavour of light pepper and vinegar with a citrus twist. It's fascinating for the first couple of seconds before it tails off too quickly. This tastes half its strength and should be properly complex but just couldn't hold my attention. Nevertheless, I enjoyed what was there, while it was there.

English brewer Odyssey was new to me, and they created a berry-infused mild for the festival called Old Brockhampton: 3.5% ABV and entirely unsuited to the tiddly measures. There's a lovely combination of flavours here, beginning with classic mild ones of chocolate, cherry and raisin, before a tart note of fresh raspberry creeps in, and then a surprise grassy hop finish. The body is very decent for the strength, not thin or watery at all. A pint would be no hardship.

Another unfamiliar Brit was Cross Borders from Dalkeith near Edinburgh. If the Dutch crowd were baffled by English mild I don't know what they made of 80/-. In keeping with the style's nickname, this is just called Heavy and is a murky ochre colour; 4.1% ABV. I lived in Scotland around the turn of the millennium and occasionally drank whatever keg 80/- was available at the time. This tasted very much like that: a basic and dull red ale. Dry grain husk is the bulk of it, with a trace of chocolate and jaffa pith if you look closely, but no real complexity. It may be delightfully anachronistic but it's not very good.

Moor I had heard of, though I don't recall them being at Borefts before. They brought a Brett'd version of Old Freddy Walker old ale called, naturally, Old Bretty Walker. The aroma from the black liquid was both funky and sour though the flavour surprisingly plain. There's a bit of roast, some balsamic and a little red grape, blended into a smooth and easy-going whole, with 8% ABV of wintery warmth. Unexciting, perhaps, but probably meant to be.

That's our first scoot through the offerings. Tomorrow, a closer look at some IPAs.

'Dam quickly

A late-September long weekend in the Netherlands began with a short visit to Amsterdam. Delayed flights and cancelled trains meant I was more than ready for a beer on stepping out of Centraal. First stop, as is becoming something of a tradition, was Beer Temple. I was intrigued to see them pouring an American take on the kvass beer style. It's a long time since I last drank kvass, the low-alcohol bread-based sort-of-beer popular in Russia and equivalent to ice tea as a hot-day thirst-quencher. Jester King's Kvass, then, was not true to style. For one thing it was 4.4% ABV which is about twice as strong as it needed to be. Further marks off for being clear yellow instead of murky brown, and I gave up on style comparisons when I discovered it was sour. What we have here is a fairly basic Berliner weisse -- tangy and sharp -- with some cream-ale sweetcorn crispness. It was fine, I guess, but I thought I was getting a kvass, so disappointment was inevitable.

Amazingly it's over ten years since the opening of Beer Temple, an evening I remember more for drinking Affumicator in Wildeman with Barry and Ron than the event itself. A tenth anniversary triple IPA had been created for the occasion, pouring alongside what I assume is a rebrew of the 5th anniversary one. So...

L: Big Fat 5; R: Big Fat 10

Big Fat 5 was brewed by Uiltje and is a double IPA of 8% ABV. From the hazy yellow glassful comes a super-juicy aroma of mango and passionfruit. Dankness is the first flavour to arrive, offering a jolt of bitterness ahead of the tropical flood. There's maybe a small twang of yeast grit but there's no booze heat and the whole thing adds up to a gorgeous symphony in American hops. This is one of the most impressive double IPAs I have ever tasted. I can see why they brought it back and hope there are plans for it to hang around.

Its successor, Big Fat 10, came from the same brewery and raises the ABV to a numerically significant 10%. This is slightly darker, and clearer too, with a milder aroma. The flavour is a straightforward mix of mandarins with hard alcohol, and maybe some cantaloupe if you squint. On top of any subtleties there's the clean vodka-like burn I get from pretty much every TIPA. It's OK, but a bit samey and absolutely not a patch on its older sibling.

The next stop was Arendsnest where the round brought Bøcketlist, not a bock but a session New England IPA from local brewer Heaps of Hops. Their gimmick is that nothing they make is stronger than 3.5% ABV and this is right on the limit. The finish is a little watery, but only a little; otherwise it delivers what one would expect: fresh and juicy stonefruit and a sweeter heavier vanilla. A spritz of lavender was an unexpected bonus. This is very well made and barely compromised at all. Perhaps the secret is... heaps of hops.

Beside that, a sample of Moersleutel Motorolie, a 12% ABV imperial stout. Dark chocolate and cocoa powder; liquorice bitterness and diesel heat. It combines these well and rounds them out into something surprisingly easy to drink given the spec. This is well put-together, but it's difficult to see what separates it from dozens of other superb Dutch imperial stouts. That's not really a complaint, of course. If you see this, get it.

But since it had run out, the helpful waiter recommended another Moersleutel imperial stout, Smoke Screen. This one is only 8% ABV, and smoked, obviously. The smoke is well integrated here, starting out on a heady aroma of dark chocolate and fine cigars. The flavour turns that to barbecued meats, doubling down on the richness with a lovely creamy texture. There's no alcohol heat interfering with any of the wonderful taste, proving you don't need to go into double figures for a powerful, complex and satisfying stout. Moersleutel is very much on my watchlist now.

My eye was caught by the listing of Vandenbroek Platte Lambik on the board at Arendsnest. Sure there are numerous Dutch examples of high-end barrel-aged sour beer, but they don't usually call them "lambik". Also, the traditional flat style is not something you see much outside Brussels. This walks the walk, however. It's a beautiful clear rose-gold colour, smelling churchy: of dust and old wax. A somewhat vomity acidic foretaste begins it, softening only slightly as it goes. As you get used to that, a more frivolous lime-and-salt margarita effect kicks in. It's good overall, just a little on the harsh side. Its brewer is definitely on the way to creating lambic to rival the Belgians. Good on 'em.

Another Vandenbroek came my way via Bierkoning where there was a selection of bottles. Deciding to buy one I picked Brut Olasz, a spontaneously fermented blend which is part beer and part grape must. It's the medium hazy yellow of a cloudy cider but doesn't taste very grapey or cidery. The aroma has the oak spices of proper lambic with the promise of Bretty funk behind it. The flavour is plainer. There's a woody cinnamon effect and a brush of pear, but not much else. It's very pleasant, and very much in the geueze style, but without the same complexity: the flavours don't spark in the same way. I can't not like it, but it left me wanting more. So that's Vandenbroek on the list now too.

I impulse-bought some More Beer beers from Arendsnest. Eastern Farm Eagle was first opened, a saison at 5.5% ABV. It's a properly saisony saison: apricot skin bitterness, white pepper spice, a lighter honeydew fruit. Once I realised there was nothing new or distinctive about it I found myself enjoying it more. Maybe this is what beer is like for normal people. It's complex without being difficult; refreshing without being simplistic. Great work.

That boded well for Dutch Eagle pale ale. 5.5% ABV again and a deep orange colour. It smells of concentrated orange oil with a touch of oaky wood, even though none was involved in production. That suggests a certain thickness but it's actually quite light, and the flavour suffers because of it. There's a fun fruit-chew sweetness, gentle hop resins and a black tea dryness. It's fine, but not as on point for an IPA like the saison was for saison. There's a certain cold hollowness, something missing in the finish. Or maybe IPA just isn't as nice as saison. Who knew?

Later at De Molen I picked up a can of this from Romanian superstars Hop Hooligans. It's called Salty Sourpuss and purports to be a gose with cucumber. It pours a cheery pale yellow colour giving off a spicy and tart aroma. In the flavour that base tartness is overlaid heavily by the fruit. The cucumber does taste of cucumber, though much sweeter, perhaps more like a prickly pear. Despite that major fruit contribution, it manages to stay clean and refreshing, the fizz doing a great job of scrubbing the aftertaste. It's only 4% ABV too, so I could see drinking another one straight after.

The final beer on the way through Schiphol was Falcon Ale from van Vollenhoeven, the brand best known for its resurrected stout. Falcon is similarly old-fashioned, in style of a strong English bitter, at 4.5% ABV. It's a clear amber colour and smells of toffee and very English hops: a hard and leafy metallic buzz. So it goes on tasting too -- old-fashionedly dry and bitter, packed with tannins and orange pith. It tastes like a bigger sterner beer than the strength suggests, and enjoyable for that. It's good that we have deliberately retro beers available as beer fashion continues to get sillier.

But back to De Molen. The main reason I was over was their annual festival at the brewery, and I went the following day...