Shropshire, lads

Christmas took me to rural Shropshire once again. The local pub is under new ownership but retains its three beer engines, one of them tied to the thoroughly decent Hobsons Twisted Spire.

The first guest beer was a new stout from a different nearby brewery, Hop & Stagger. Black Forest Stout they called it, and yes it contains cherries. In fact, I suspect that this is nothing more complicated than a basic chocolate-forward session stout into which a bucket of cherry concentrate has been dumped: it has that unsubtle syrupy taste. A flinty dark-roast dryness saves it from turning sticky, and while the two elements do blend better as it warms up, this is still a one-pint beer and no more.

Moving on, then, to Joules Old No. 6, badged as a "winter warmer" though only 4.8% ABV. It belies this with a big and rich flavour, beginning on a thick layer of chewy caramel which is then overlaid with red liquorice and throat-sweet herbs. That makes for something very sweet and very bitter at the same time, with a Victorian medicine vibe which I'm sure is exactly what they were going for. I don't think I've tasted anything much like this, yet it does fit what one might expect an old-fashioned English winter ale to be. Again, a session would be tough, but that's what the Twisted Spire tap is for.

The only other pub I visited was a very quick half at the Wetherspoon in Shrewsbury. They had Black Ice by Titanic Brewery on, and it's against my religion to pass up a black IPA when I see one. This one arrived with an off-white head, the body black but showing red around the edges. The flavour offers a fascinating mix of flowers and fruit: spicy jasmine first, followed by soft and sweet cherry and raspberry. It's still bitter enough to be properly invigorating and there's a stout-like tarry rasp which helps keep it from tasting jammy. All this is done at just 4.1% ABV too. Great work, and I hope they keep brewing it, fashion be damned.

To the bottles, then, and Hobsons has refreshed its branding, the trademark bowler hat now looking 45% more jaunty. I don't know if Shropstar pale ale is new but it was my first time trying it. This is a perfectly clear pale gold and 4% ABV. A tall head forms so I was expecting lots of fizz on the palate but it's actually quite smooth. A pinch of lemon rind suggested American hops to me, though a glance at the label tells me Hüll Melon and Mandarina Bavaria are actually responsible. An initial bitter kick leads on to bittersweet citrus, and then a fast fade-out. They've badged this as a Christmas beer, and it was refreshing after too much cheese and Other People's Unreasonably Hot Central Heating, but I think it would work better in the summer -- there's enough fruity fun in it for that.

The sister brought me a selection from Lincolnshire brewery Hopshackle. I began with the lightest of them: a golden ale called Jaramillo. There'll be Amarillo hops in this, thought I, but no: it's Citra and Mosaic. It has a rough and raw homebrew quality, manifesting as a clean gunpowder spice. The hop fruit is bright behind it, all juicy mango and tangy pomegranate. While this lacks polish, it is tasty in an amateurish sort of way. They got away with the roughness here, but I was apprehensive facing into the rest of the selection.

Hopnosis got busy with the fizzy from the get go. This is a golden ale, 5.2% ABV, and hopped with Citra and Mosaic again. Oh and hey: here's the Amarillo. There's a very pleasant sweet honey taste, plus a touch of apricot, and accompanying stickiness. I can see the beer it was meant to be; the beer it probably is on cask, but bottled, once again, there's that flinty spice of residual yeast: nice but interfering with the core flavour. I can't help thinking that even if this bottle is OK, the brewery doesn't have proper control over what's getting out there. Is that unfair?

Moving on, I poured the Humopulus carefully, to give myself a clear glassful. It's still a little hazy through the pale yellow colour, without much of an effort at head. The label boasts yet more Citra though the flavour is quite muted. There a vague lime-zest bitterness, but the sharp and flinty yeast is more prominent. It's been busy too, I'd say: the texture is thin, even for 4.3% ABV, suggesting high attenuation. There's a background sourness but I don't know whether to pin that on the fermentation or the hops. With every sip I found myself thinking how much better Citra-forward British beers like Jarl and Oakham Citra are. This isn't in the same league.

Last up from Hopshackle is Fire Belly Export, described on the label as a "Double Imperial IPA" which is a yer-da style if ever I saw one. It is 7% ABV. There's lots of sweet caramel, and a big malt warmth. This is accompanied, rather than balanced, by tropical C-hops, plus a herbal, peppery effect. Again, though, heavy-handed attenuation has thinned it, dried it and given it too much fizz. It's better than the others despite this: the high gravity fights back against the officious yeast and there's enough mellowness left behind, and sufficient body to provide a base for the hops. There's a lack of finesse, sure, but this is on the good side of the homebrew-tasting spectrum.

The next set was three from Sherbourne Ales in Bournemouth, courtesy of my niece who lives locally. First out is the bottled bitter Headlander. I didn't think there was much chance of this pouring clear, what with all the dregs clinging to the inside of the bottle, and so it proved: a hazy copper red glassful. The aroma is wholesome brown bread with a very English veg-and-metal hop tang. The two sides should blend together in the flavour but they drift further apart: a sugary-tea sweetness and quite a harsh, raw bitterness with no hop flavour nuance. It's hard work, but I was used to the clashing flavours by the half-way point and finding it quite refreshing, as a bitter ought to be. Approach with caution rather than avoid, I would say.

Sunbather red ale is not very different, in appearance and in ABV, at 4.2%. The aroma is quite understated, just a vague jam and marzipan. Flavourwise it's definitely smoother than the previous: a well-integrated cocktail of warm caramel and dark berries, with a touch of coffee-roast complexity. This is balanced by that classic English hop bitterness but this time toned down, and with some earthy veg notes in with the acidity. It fits the brown bitter category more than that of red ale, I think, though one could class it as a good example of either. Solidly traditional, and enjoyably so. The sort of English beer I never hear about on the Internet.

The strongest one to finish on: the 4.5% ABV Grockles blonde ale. This came out a bright and burnished gold, with hardly any haze at all. A honey aroma leads on to a rye and caraway savoury bitterness. It tips a little into the gastric, vomity side of the spectrum, but not excessively so, and there's enough residual honey to pull the flavour back. Again, this suits the broad bitter genre better than the style it's badged as; this time the pale, dry, sharp northern bitter, typified by these days Landlord and Marble's Manchester Bitter. The brewery has decided it's a summer beer, and presumably intends it as a lager substitute. It has far too much character for that, however. You'd be disappointed if you were expecting Stella. I wasn't disappointed, though.

A random selection from the slim pickings in a local Sainsburys: Gladeye, from Drygate. It gives us fair warning of what to expect by calling itself a "retro IPA". Copper colour: check; big crystal malt toffee: check; intense grapefruit bitterness: check and check. It really does remind me of old-school IPAs like Porterhouse Hop Head and the original Sierra Nevada IPA. A lighter hand on the crystal would have been appreciated: it's thicker and sweeter than it needs to be. I like the old-fashioned, mouth-watering, citrus poke, though. It delivers on its promise, although it's weird thinking of this sort of thing as a novelty.

The Christmas Day nightcap was Adnams Both Barrels, a barrel-aged version of their Broadside IPA, with added cherries. After six whole years in bourbon casks, it doesn't look or taste anything like Broadside, being a dark brown colour and showing lots and lots of oak flavour. Wild yeast has been busy too, giving an overall impression of a Flanders red: that tart cherry and fancy Italian vinegar effect. Though 9% ABV there's no heat and quite a thin body. Swirling it on the palate, bourbon vanilla makes an appearance, and there's burnt fruitcake and brown breadcrust in the mix as well. They don't badge it explicitly as sour, but I think they should. Fascinating stuff, both as a highly involved IPA experiment, and as a beer in its own right.

Familial duties duly conducted, it was off to the Netherlands for New Year...