Brown is the new whatever

A new brown ale on the Irish market is always a cause for excitement. So steps up Ballykilcavan, with their newest can: Bambrick's. They claim American influence, and the ABV checks out at a sizeable 5.8%. It's a very dark brown colour, with a tint of deepest ruby. There's not much aroma to speak of and I don't get a whole lot of hopping in the flavour. Instead it's dry and a little burnt tasting, crisp and roasty. There's a faint liquorice complexity in the background but that's as nuanced as it gets. This is a simple and straightforward offering, maybe missing the smooth coffee and toffee of really good brown ale, but there's enough going on on the dry and roasted side to compensate.

YellowBelly also jumped on the brown ale wagon (there's plenty of room), beginning with Doc Brown. This is a supercharged one at 7% ABV, arriving murky looking and with a distinct homebrew roughness. That's not necessarily a bad thing: here it manifests as a flinty spice with piquant pink peppercorns. The brown ale standard flavours are missing again, though there is a caramel smoothness even if there's little to no caramel taste. It feels like a bit of a rush job. The soft and luscious beer it would like to be is under there somewhere, but there's too much interference from the construction scaffolding. It left me wishing to see this with more of a polish on the edifice.

And then, hey presto, my wish was granted. Molecules of Freedom is the same base beer, but dry-hopped. Crucially also, it had a little more time to settle and was altogether cleaner and more finished tasting. Still it's not exactly luscious, showing just a lightly creamy texture and adding in extra fresh coffee roast. The hopping brings fruit to the picture -- black cherry and raisin -- and also a pine and grass dankness. This isn't a typical brown ale either but it is a very interesting take. The base provides a complementary contrast with the busy American hops. The parallel with Dogfish Head's famous Indian Brown Ale should be obvious to anyone who's tasted both.

Three quite different-tasting beers here, and none of them exactly what I like in brown ale. Best keep trying, brewers.

It's Hell, up north

An unexpected new Helles arrived on the local off licence shelves here a couple of months ago. "I'm having that," I said. It's important to grab these things when they're available as you never know how long they'll last.

Einsiedler Hell announces the label on the bottle, and that it's from Saxony, not Bavaria. Intriguing! It's not as clear as a Bavarian would like it, showing some quite large particles suspended in the gold. It's just about full-bodied enough, with the right honey malt flavour but not the white bread or spongecake consistency found in the best of these. Where it really gives away its northern roots is in the hopping: an intense grassy kick, running the risk of turning to a plastic bitterness but balanced by the malt.

This is an interesting crisp twist on standard Helles, enjoyable for that, and in its own right.

Elle surprise

I have been chasing Lambiek Fabriek Brett-Elle for quite some time, and my most recent trip to Brussels included my second quest through the city to find it. Turns out it had been hiding in plain sight all along. De Biertempel is far from a specialist in rare beers: situated on the main tourist drag, you can pay a premium here for some very mainstream offerings. And yet there, on a low shelf in the lambic section, was the beer I had been looking for but not expecting to see.

I was sufficiently elated to want to pick up an accompanying geuze, and two in particular caught my eye from the same shelf. Moriau Oude Geuze is shop house-brand that seems to have strayed from its home. Having been brewed at a number of breweries, each of which subsequently closed, it's now produced at Boon, where the owner admits it's essentially the same recipe as his iconic oude geuze, just blended in different quantities.

Certainly it's the same hazy orange colour, and 7% ABV too. I think it's a little less sour as well. There's the gorgeous hallmark oak spicing, flakes of pepper, flint and gunpowder, but instead of the sharp burn there's a gentler lemonade tang. I suspect that although the recipe is similar to Boon's own beer, this contains a higher proportion of younger, cheaper beer. It's no harm. This is easy-going and accessible while also showing off the elements geuze does best.

The next one is from the enigmatic St-Louis brand by Kasteel Brouwerij -- not one of the high-end marques and one I only know for their syrupy fruited versions. St-Louis Fond Tradition oude geuze looks like a cask lambic: amber in colour and seemingly short on carbonation. The aroma is all but absent, just a hint of cider and sherry. A subtle jolt of sourness is all the flavour has to offer. Yes, it's clear that this came from a wild-fermentation barrel, but I suspect the blend comes from a much lower level of expertise. After the initial burst of fuzzy funk I get an unpleasant rubbery or phenolic note, and then it all just goes away. I half expected substandard St-Louis to wow me with this one, as Timmermans and Mort Subite have with theirs. But it just doesn't cut it and can be safely avoided. The lack of a cork should have been a clue.

So to the main event. Brett-Elle was more than double the price of the Moriau and it's hard to see how it justifies that, other than in rarity. It looks similar: another hazy pale orange one. The aroma is more funky than sharp and tart, though it still manages to smell properly of lambic. A very high carbonation meant it took a moment or two to get a proper first impression but when that came it was rather plain. White wine vinegar is about the extent of it, with a scorch on the throat and a mild nitre brick effect. It's fine but it's absolutely not the next-level experience implied in the price. It's just not as interesting as Moriau, even allowing for it being 1.5 ABV points lower in strength. This new lambic brewery seems to have nailed the fundamentals but is still lacking in finish and poise.

Though these didn't all amaze me, it's good to know there are still new mixed-fermentation beers out there for me to try; ones where doing something different involves more than a tub of fruit syrup.

The festival fringe

Today's post is an addendum to the previous two this week, covering a pair of beers from the UK that I met on my visit to Cork for the Cask Ales & Strange Brews Festival at Franciscan Well.

I caught The Linen Weaver on a good day when I called in for breakfast. The staff were in a chipper mood and there was a respectable selection of cask beers on. I opted for Proper IPA by Broughton. It didn't looked the Mae West: quite a murky amber colour with a fast-fading head. The aroma was promising, however, offering a waft of tropical fruit of the kind you rarely find in a cask British IPA. It's 5% ABV so I was fearful of a hot and soupy texture next but it passed that test too, being light, clean and refreshing. The flavour delivered perfectly on the promise of the aroma: gentle mango and passionfruit, a sterner lemony bite, and backed by a quenching tannic dryness. All the hallmarks of a good bitter are here, while the use of American hops has given it an added dimension of flavour. Very nicely done.

On the way home I picked up a selection of beers at No. 21 on MacCurtain Street, including Hunter, a helles from Gipsy Hill. It certainly looks like a helles, being pale and clear. It smells of toast in a champagne sort of way, which is promising. So it goes with the flavour: a dry white-grape effect that definitely says "posh wine" to me. It fades after that, so if you don't like your craft lager clean and simple, this one isn't for you. There's little by way of complexity but I liked the way it goes about its business. It's a craft take on a classic German style, and while it may not be 100% accurate, it is is nice, and I give it a pass for that. This is one of those UK beers that would work well in big cans for an unfussy market that doesn't know how good it has things. The other recently-imported Gipsy Hill beers are on my to-do list.

I think I did very well picking random beers under limiting circumstances. Some days the beer karma is just good for no reason.

... so below

Following on from Monday's post about the Francsican Well Cask Ales & Strange Brews Festival a couple of weeks ago, here are the beers from round Cork and Kerry way.

Franciscan Well itself had a couple of special edition versions of its core beers, including a Dark Chieftan. I'm no fan of Chieftan IPA in general, but this one, tasted blind in the competition, was rather good. It was amber rather than properly dark, with a fresh citric aroma and a floral taste: starting at Parma Violets before veering close to the front door of Lush. An odd beastie, but quite charming, and it grew on me as I assessed it. I wasn't the only one to succumb as it ended up taking the prize for best strong or dark beer and third prize overall on the day.

There was also a Franciscan Well Raspberry Wheat Beer which was less impressive. "A brave attempt that hasn't worked" said a fellow judge. Why? Well, the raspberry element is rather overdone, coming across more as a concentrated essence rather than real fruit. There's a jarring old-world spice as well: nutmeg or clove, lending it a mulled cider quality that's not unpleasant but not right either. It fitted the festival's theme by being both wintery and strange. Too strange to be enjoyable as a wheat beer, though.

The other new special was called, for some reason, Immoral: a 4% ABV dark lager. A relation of Archway, perhaps? It's quite plain anyway, with an aroma of toffee and a touch of coffee in the flavour. It could easily pass as a middle-of-the-road Irish red, certainly more easily than as a continental dark lager of any sort.

Rebel Red with added Azacca, Simcoe and Amarillo hops plus some chipotle chillies gives us The Witcher. This is another quite dull one, the extra hops completely absent to my palate and the peppers bringing the plasticky taste they sometimes impart but nothing else as regards flavour or heat. This promised a great deal more than it delivered.

Franciscan Well still brews some beers on the kit out behind the pub so the management don't have far to go if they want something created for them. Yet their collaboration barrel-aged stout with Bán Poitín and Three Fools Coffee was brewed at Dick Mack's for some reason. It's called Foolish Monk and combines the various novel elements extremely well. There's a strong a clean coffee flavour, minus the roast, and a spirit kick from the poitín barrel it was matured in. The base is a smooth and easy-going stout. I got a mellow Black Russian cocktail effect from this and was particularly impressed it was all done at 4.2% ABV.

The presence of Dick Mack's beers is one of the things that keeps me coming back to the Cork festivals. This year the Dingle brewpub had a Honey & Hemp Ale on offer. It was pale yellow and hazy, with a grassy lager aroma. And indeed Czech pilsner is the thing it tastes like most, with the same soft mineral quality. There's a very slight honey-syrup texture but that's as close to novelty as it gets. Everything otherwise is well integrated and easy-drinking. I was surprised to find it packs a punch at 6.5% ABV: that's kept hidden. Some peppery hemp character would have been nice but I can't complain.

We finish the festival beers with another barrel-aged job: the French Oak Stout from 9 White Deer. Boy is this oaky. It's like drinking a glass of corks. There's a tawny port effect beneath that, with a square of dark chocolate on the side. The base stout was only 4.5% ABV and that may be why the oak drowned the flavour out -- it needed something bigger to stand up to the woody assault. Still, if the aim was to find out what effect this particular barrel has, mission accomplished.

My own mission at the festival was thus accomplished and I stopped off briefly at The Bierhaus on my way to the train. They were pouring Dearg, a blood orange IPA from Black's of Kinsale. This 5.2%-er is a little thin, and the oily orange side does clash somewhat with the IPA aspect. It's saved, however, by the hops: a lovely big jolt of classic American spritzy bitterness. I didn't have long to ponder it, and it works well on a gulp-and-go basis. I gulped, I went.

Always a pleasure, Cork. Until Easter then.

As above...

At the beginning of the month it was off down to Cork for the first festival of the year, Cask Ales & Strange Brews at Franciscan Well. As usual, before I could enjoy any of the beers, I had to partake in the judging of the best ones in show. Tasting blind, it's a handy way of putting together an honest assessment of what was on offer. I just had to match the numbered reviews to the listings once judging was over. I got through twenty beers at the gig and I'm dividing them geographically, beginning today with all the ones from not-Munster.

And I may as well kick off with the winner, the Baltic porter from Dublin's own Rascals: Absolutely Baltic. This was brand new out and otherwise only available at the brewery. It's an orthodox 7.5% ABV, properly brown-black, though a little flat from the cask. The banana aroma was a surprise but not jarring, leading on to a subtle caramel flavour. There's a lick of liquorice and then a wholesome walnut effect. Nothing is too extreme in this even though it's full of character and cheering winter warmth. Just a smidge more fizz would have perfected it.

The Inchicore brewery also had a dubbel in the running, the fruit flavoured Cherry Poppin'. I've said before that flavoured dubbel doesn't do the style justice and this one, while nothing was wrong with it, at no point reminded me of dubbel. It's only 6.1% ABV, for one thing, a clear and deep ruby with an aroma of dark biscuits. There's a little syrup in the vapours too, and that turns to cough mixture in the flavour. I couldn't identify cherries specifically, just a general sweet and dark fruit, like you'd find in Málaga wine or PX sherry. A touch of dark chocolate brings Raspberry Ruffle bars to mind. It's fun, and a bit silly; treat it with the lack of seriousness it deserves and you'll enjoy.

Staying with the Dubs, DOT had some superb beers on the go, all of which somehow failed to win any awards. I know none came my way for judging. Pick of the bunch, and my personal favourite of the day, was a Barrel Aged Imperial Saison. Wisely, I came to this late in proceedings. It's a whopper 10.4% ABV but is clean and smooth; warm rather than hot. The dominant flavours are a mix of dry Sauvignon Blanc turning to dryer Fino sherry, allied with some sweeter Sauternes. The grape fun is accompanied by the peppery spice found in my favourite saisons. It's a great example of taking the features of a base style and building something different yet amazing from them. I imagine it's more difficult than just squirting fruit syrup in the fermenter, though.

At the opposite end of the scale there was the modestly-named General Sour at 3.5% ABV. It's a hazy yellow colour, and perhaps that contributed to the impression of custard I got from the aroma. Add in the sourness of the flavour, and you get a stick of rhubarb with your custard, the creamy texture enhancing the dessert effect. The sharpness is nicely balanced here: unmistakably tart but rounded and easy-going too.

At the same strength (related recipe?) there was a Session Pale, also with a bit of a vanilla quality in its flavour and a thick-set texture. Sweet orange cordial and a pinch of white pepper also feature. Despite that tiddling ABV I'm not sure a session on this would actually be possible. I was glad I only had a half to enjoy, but enjoy I did.

DOT's blip was a barrel-aged amber-brown yoke called Assorted Nuts. It tasted hugely of hazelnuts with a touch of wafer biscuits. Simple and smooth; clean and easy, there was nothing technically wrong with it, but at 9.4% ABV there really ought to be more happening. It's a strength at which "only OK" is not OK.

There was one beer in competition that I swore was a DOT offering when it came my way for assessment: it had that spicy, pithy oak-and-citrus taste that DOT's barrel-aged pale ales generally show. Except it wasn't DOT, it was YellowBelly's presumably experimental Mixed Fermentation Barrel Aged Special. Coconut/gorse and vanilla come out in the aroma, while the flavour is warm and herbal, like a spiced barleywine, with the weighty mouthfeel to match. Amazingly it's only 5.5% ABV. There's fantastic complexity here, though not the kind I expected. "Mixed Fermentation" means sour to me. Shows what I know.

Just one other YellowBelly beer today: Kazbek Dry-Hopped Ale, showcasing a Czech Saaz-a-like hop I've never encountered before. There's certainly a lot of grass going on; too much really. Steve reckoned it was the hallmark of a beer that's been left to dry hop for too long and I think he's correct there. Behind that it's a decent but unexciting grainy beer, the ABV 4.6%. If I had to put it into a style category I'd suggest a basic English bitter. It left me none the wiser about what makes Kazbek unique, if anything.

New beers from Barrelhead are all too rare, which is a shame. For this gig they sent along a thoroughly unfashionable but quite delicious English-style Strong Ale. It's a very pale example, its appearance resembling the Belgian sort of strong ale. I got no aroma from my judging sample and found the flavour quite hot, but in a clean-burn Duvel sort of way. It doesn't have the Belgian fruit esters, however: the taste settling to a very English bitter wax before some simple candy sweetness and a green weedy spice. No fireworks, no gimmicks, and not too dangerous at 6% ABV. This is one of those beers I wish there was more of a market for. Replace every milkshake IPA with it.

Two Ballykilcavan specials next, both veering away from classic styles, in the spirit of Strange Brews. The first was my second of the day in the blind judging and I didn't care for it at all. Murky, soupy, dreggy and hot; green apples, cheese and feet. None of those descriptors fit the profile of what turned out to be a Peach & Passionfruit Pale Ale. I could tell there was a decent beer at its core, a simple affair with fresh and juicy orange flavours. I blame the serving method for making a mess of it.

My last beer at the festival was their Cherry Chocolate Stout, a bit of a beast at 6.7% ABV. Cherry cough syrup, pie filling and cheap Black Forest gateau say my notes: altogether more wholesome than the previous one. The jammy sweetness is one side but it's balanced by a cherryskin bitterness that was the making of the beer. The base stout takes a bit of searching to find, but it's there too, making this a well-balanced effort, with two complementary aspects to enjoy.

This post began on the festival's official best beer and I'll finish on the official second place: Bullhouse Margarita Gose. Yes the concept is the worst thing to happen to Leipzig since 1943 but I genuinely liked it. It was lovely and smooth from the cask, and an approachable 4.5% ABV. From a red-apple aroma it goes on to be very salty -- the best part of a margarita -- with a jolt of real lime juice and plenty of coriander, something lacking in even straight-up craft-brewed gose these days. It's unsubtle, and risks turning cloying before long, but a judging sample was just right to spark joy. Built for the flight, and that's OK sometimes.

That's all the beer that travelled down the motorways to get to Franciscan Well. The next post will be strictly low mileage.

Mama we're all hazy now

I am forever sceptical when I hear complaints about the ubiquity of any particular beer style. "You don't have to drink it," I sigh, "there's always something else." So I had to bite my lip when I went shopping for Amundsen beers in the Stephen Street News January sale and discovered all three were New England-style IPAs. Still, they're also all collaborations so maybe this is an experimental, learning experience, for the Norwegian brewery.

The first one is in association with Aberdeen's Fierce Beer, called Stardust Galaxies. There was an impressive rush of pineapple juice aroma when I opened the can, though pouring and sniffing revealed something less subtle, and more sweet, like hard fruit candy: no juice here. I see lactose in the ingredients and its effect is immediately felt on tasting, being a completely unnecessary slick sweetness. This clashes with heavy, green, bitter hops, a flavour which begins metallic before fading out as boiled spinach and cabbage. A beer of two halves, then, and neither very charming. That sickly travel-sweet thing re-enters the picture as the beer begins to warm. This is the weakest of the set, at 6% ABV. I started to fear the sequence of increasingly cloying creations I may have got myself into.

For the next one, Pinball Space Machine, the ABV moves up to 6.5% ABV while the collaborating brewery moves down to North in Leeds. It looks much the same, a pale opaque yellow, and the lac' is back. The aroma is less in one's face: just a mild nondescript greenness. The flavour isn't dull, but it's gentler than the previous. Still cabbage, but fresh, cool and crisp, with a little celery too. The unnecessary lactose thick 'n' sweet effect is still present, but it's more muted, lurking in the aftertaste. A buzz of coconut is a welcome bit of complexity and there's a cheek-warming clean alcohol quality. While not wildly different, this is better than the last one, though still not great even by the low standards of hazy IPA.

Let's bring this in. Appearance-wise, Into the Wormhole, with Finback, is more of the same. Lactose again, and the ABV is up to 7.5%. I'm now accustomed to the candy-sweet aroma, this one lacking the crisper hop veg. The texture is different, the carbonation lower and the beer smoother. Its bitterness is much lower than in the others, replaced by an almost custard sweetness; the lactose fitting in for once. That NEIPA garlic kick I had been waiting for finally arrives here, oily and sharp, wafted up on the volatile alcohol. But is it any good? Ehhhh... not really. I think this is the one that will please advocates of the style more than the others. It's hot, punchy, and is juicy if you like your juice with a spoonful of sugar and a shot of vodka.

In my 100% objective analysis, the middle one is the best of this set.

This. Isn't. Sparta!

Thanks to Bermondsey brewery Spartan for quite unexpectedly sending me a box of their canned IPA Polemarch. Though badged as English-style, it's a full 5.5% ABV: no Greene King clone here. Can-conditioned, it pours quite a clear golden amber with an earthy aroma suggesting English hops from the outset.

Sure enough, the classic mix of bitter marmalade and hard wax is the centrepiece of the flavour. This is English IPA at its most worthy and serious. The malt brings some crisp, lightly browned, toast to the picture, but really it's all about those hops. They've gone for the newer varieties Jester and Olicana but quite honestly I couldn't tell them apart from your Fuggles and your Goldings.

This beer is quite diametrically opposed to what's in fashion in beer at the moment, and I doubt it's what many drinkers go to Bermondsey for. The quality and fidelity to the style are undeniable, however.

Back at it

I'm trying a new strategy for 2020, cutting down on the giant round-up posts in favour of shorter, more frequent ones. Let's see how that goes. Today I'm covering off the random Irish beers I found around the New Year period and into January.

Going back to the heady days before the Christmas break, I took a half hour out of the city centre chaos to sit on the quiet second floor of JW Sweetman and catch up with their last special of 2019. It's called Extra Special Pale, a pale ale brewed with Ekuanot, Chinook, Bramling Cross and First Gold. Amber coloured with a little haze, it has an aroma mixing fruit candy with a sharper grapefruit citrus. The texture is light, befitting 4.2% ABV, and the citrus dominates the flavour in a complex but almost unbalancing way. Orange rind and lemon zest lead on to bath-bomb bergamot, the bitterness both jaw-pinching and mouth-watering. This has a lot in common with the resurgent west coast IPAs all the smart brewers are making, but light and refreshing, without the malt weight. It took half a pint for my palate to adjust but I was enjoying it by the end. Nice work.

Galway Hooker has done a house beer for venerable Dublin institution The Long Hall, marking a decade since their Pale Ale was first sold here. Sticking with what they know best, I guess, The Long Hall Session IPA is an amber coloured ale of 4.2% ABV. In contrast to the brewery's flagship, however, they've dropped the bitterness right out, leaving a mildly juicy tropical character. There's a growing grapefruit quality, but much more about the flavour than the sharpness. The malt balance is minimal and the finish quick, a kick of limestone or aspirin minerals is the final flourish. As an easy-going house beer for a traditional pub it works well, though I'm not at all sure it's better than the beer it was created to commemorate. Still, it's good to have choice, especially in a pub where the beer selection is not part of the core offer. I liked having an excuse to drop by.

In addition to this session IPA, and The Four Horsemen session IPA I reviewed late last year, Galway Hooker now has one called simply Session IPA. The strength is half way between the other two, at 4.5% ABV. How does it differ? The bitterness is back, showing a similar grapefruit bite to Galway Hooker Pale Ale. This aggressiveness is accentuated by quite a thin body, though that also means the attack is a short one, the whole thing finishing quickly. Malt character is entirely absent this time. This therefore earns its session credentials by being accessible and easy-drinking with just enough character to pass muster but running a real risk of coming across as boring and bland. Again, a pint of the Pale Ale would be my preference.

The house brand of 57 the Headline and Brickyard, Two Sides, added a red ale to the line-up. Red Brick won't startle the horses at 4.5% ABV; they may even prefer it as the recipe includes oatmeal, an unusual twist for the style. That definitely contributes to the texture, making it big and weighty, a base for strong caramel flavours in the foretaste. There's a modern trend for putting a high dose of hops in reds but that hasn't been followed here. The bitterness is more saccharine than citrus and you needn't look for fruit or flowers. It's characterful, and there are no missteps or off-flavours, but it's really only for those who enjoy the sweet caramel stylings of an old-school red.

For a red with more of a hop character, try YellowBelly's latest special Judge Red. They've described this as a "Simcoe red IPA", though for one thing it's more brown than red, murky and only turning auburn when held to the light. It's 6.2% ABV and quite heavy as a result, with the dark malts doubtless playing a role in that -- there's the caramel feel of a weighty brown ale. Any similarity ends with the flavour. There's lots of fruit in the foretaste, strawberry and gooseberry to me, plus a grassy dankness and some sweeter fudge. These varying flavours are distinct, despite the murky appearance, adding up to a decent medium-strong winter ale with plenty of fresh hop character.

O Brother's first of 2020 is Ether 5, a double IPA. It's getting hard to describe modern New-England-influenced DIPA in a way that differentiates them from each other but here goes. It's 8.1% ABV, for one thing: most Irish breweries (*cough*Whiplash*cough*) round down to the integer. The colour is pale to the point of looking watery: a witbier sort of hazy yellow. A strong peach-nectar syrupy booze puts that impression to rest from the first sniff. The flavour is cleaner, sunnier, however: fresh apricot, satsuma pith, leading to a harder and stickier Calippo or orange cordial as it warms in the mouth. This is a straightforward sipper, avoiding extremes of hops and booze. I'm on board for sensible double IPA.

Larkin's also gave us a new double IPA over the winter break: Kaleidoscope. Azacca and Strata hops promise a big hit of the tropics from this 8.5%-er, and it they certainly deliver. The aroma is how I imagine the concentrate they make Lilt out of smells: intensely tropical, with sweet mango in the ascendant. The body is a little syrupy, and that intensifies the hop flavours into something quite cordial-like: sweet and sticky. Somehow it doesn't cloy -- you get the initial burst of fruit, but then it fades quickly leaving no residual syrup. There's also no alcohol heat to speak of, and none of the onion or garlic notes that too many of these show. While it might not be madly complex, it's a well-polished example of the style.

The Larkin's doppelbock, Lore, is their first take on the style since the launch of their original core range almost two years ago. The ABV has been ramped up from 7.6% to 10.3%. It's still deliciously true to the style, however. The colour is the right shade of chestnut while the flavour mixes the requisite bourbon biscuit crispness with a spinach-and-nettle greenness. The extra strength is apparent too: I got a definite extra warmth and maybe a little extra thickness in the texture. It's not distractingly strong, however. A very slight solvent heat flashes briefly, but disappears almost immediately. I liked this a lot. Supercharging an Easter beer style to suit Christmas is a great idea.

Bringing us home the long way, The Roads Less Travelled is a DOT beer that appeared briefly on draught last year but is now in circulation in smart little 33cl cans. It's a rye IPA, aged in an exciting combination of Pedro Ximenez, Oloroso, bourbon and single malt barrels, finishing up at 10.4% ABV. Phew! It pours an innocent amber-gold colour and smells of surprisingly little for what should be a hop- and sherry-bomb. The strength is apparent from the first sip: it's a thick and slow pull. With that comes a sugary rush of hard lemon sweets and bone-dry cider, fino or tequila. Although it's pale and clear, there is that heavy and unctuous PX quality: without looking I might guess this was a dark beer. The back of the flavour is just more sugar but the warming sensation it creates down below is the real finishing note. I expected more complexity from this though I liked what I got: something heavy, sweet, spirituous and clean. More hops would have been good, though: IPA it ain't.

There. That wasn't so painful, was it? I'll try and keep the next one tight too.

Hope darkens

A couple from Hope today, where darker styles appear to be the preferred vernacular at the moment. You will of course remember that the official winter seasonal this time round was a black IPA and now it has a dubbel and a stout to keep it company.

I'm not sure I got a proper bead on Rum Dubbel, served as it was very cold on draught in UnderDog. It was nice, though. Banana is the heart of the flavour, ripe and sweet. That is studded quite deliciously with milk chocolate buttons. They in their turn are infused with rum. The effect is definitely syrupy rum flavouring and not actual spirit: think rum 'n' raisin ice cream rather than a tot of Padrón. Any Belgian subtleties there may have been are buried under it. You needn't look for plums or figs. I think dubbel isn't a style that lends itself to craft hacking. You end up with whatever the novelty addition is, set on a strong dunkelweizen. That's not necessarily a bad thing, and this is far from a bad beer, but the drinker's expectation that comes with a designated style takes a knock.

The next one is number 17 in the Limited Edition series, and a return to stout. Number 4 was Export Stout at 7.5% ABV. A change in head brewer later and we get Foreign Export Stout, lighter at 6.8% ABV. Despite the drop in strength this still does a very good impression of the FES from another, better known, Dublin brewery. It has that balance of intense roasted dryness with a seam of fun sticky caramel. There's a hearty jolt of coffee too, a tang of green veg and a pinch of harder tin. It's unashamedly old-fashioned and quite delicious. You can sip and consider its layers if you like; I enjoyed just drinking it. And if you like proper stout, you will too.

The classically-styled beer was more enjoyable than the novelty one? OK ticker.

White out

De Bocq's Blanche de Namur is one of the world's standard witbiers but I realised recently that I had never tasted it. When the opportunity to buy it came my way in an Italian supermarket last summer I bought a bottle and gave it a whirl.

It's a light one at 4.5% ABV and quite a milky pale yellow. There's no shortage of foam as it pours from the large bottle. Sweet lemon curd and lemon candy is the first hit, smooth and slightly oily with it. For balance, a crisp wheaty cracker crunch follows that, while the coriander comes in late. This adds a bitterness that could be described as soapy, were one prejudiced against coriander in the first place. I'm fine with it, though.

The comparison with Hoegaarden is inevitable, and I don't think this quite has the beatings of it. It's just a little too sickly. More flavourful, sure, but not the right sort of flavours for the style, I think. If the lemony sugar doesn't bother you, however, it's bang on.

New, but improved?

Another Radical Drinks promotional event for one of their American breweries took place in Urban Brewing last month. This time it was New Belgium's turn, with Export Manager Casey Kjolhede in attendance. Of course all is sweetness and light regarding the Colorado brewing icon's move from being ultra-ethical employee-owned to another brand in Kirin's "Lion Little World" portfolio, where it sits next to Little Creatures, Magic Rock and FourPure.

There were two new beers to try, beginning with Fat Tire White. I'm not a fan of the famous amber ale so approached this brand extension with scepticism. That seems justified at first: this is pale and sickly-looking even by witbier standards. The haze is half-hearted and the texture thin: surprisingly so at a generous 5.2% ABV. It therefore took me a while to get what this beer is about, but there's goodness within. The flavour is subtly complex, with lots of spice and a refreshing citrus spritz: they've used orange peel but the effect is more lemony. There's a base of crisp wheat and then some aftereffects of sweet wildflowers and a very Belgian estery funk. That sounds busy, but it's mellow, integrated and easy-going. I'd still opt for Hoegaarden, on texture grounds alone, but I deem this a valid alternative.

The muscle for the evening was provided by New Belgium Honey Orange Tripel. No half measures here: we're looking at a full-fat 10% ABV, and a serious, brooding, dark gold colour. Of course it has honey and orange flavours but they taste just like the ones found in regular tripel, not tacked-on as novelty for its own sake. Further cementing its credentials, it's warm without being hot; smooth, soft and very satisfying to drink: just like any good tripel, Belgian or otherwise. The Belgian esters just about perceptible in the wit are absent for this, and purists may miss them. I was happy with the overall cleanness I got in exchange.

It's only two beers, but so far it doesn't look like multinational ownership has ruined New Belgium.

Naturally I took the opportunity to explore some new Urban Brewing beers, beginning with a Yarrow Gruit. This wasn't as interesting as I'd hoped, the sweet meadowy herbal effect relegated to a very faint trace in the finish. From my limited experience of making hopless gruit beers, you really need to pile in the replacement ingredients and, as with hops, you get a better effect from using them in combination. The dominant feature here was a soft and sweet banana flavour, the result of La Chouffe yeast but making it taste like a weissbier. Rampant Belgian esters will drown out a lot of things, and the poor yarrow wouldn't have stood a chance. This was an inoffensive offering, but still disappointing.

The one that really impressed me on the night was Urban's Hoppy Red. This 4%-er looked awful -- a murky, muddy orange shade -- but the Mosaic and Amarillo absolutely sang. The aroma is a mix of fresh citrus zing and heavier oily dank, then the flavour follows that with classic grapefruit and mandarin characteristics. The malt keeps a respectful distance from these firecrackers, offering the merest of a suggestion of toffee, but you have to look for it. There's a simple elegance to this and if I hadn't been sampling my way through I could have consumed a lot of it. It's odd how rare this bright American hop thing is in Irish beers; it ought to be permanently in fashion.

A big thanks to the folks at Urban and Radical for the invite, and I'm glad to see the trickle of New Belgium into Ireland is bringing us new stuff. There must be something from the foeders due any day now.