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Time for another unsorted round-up of new and new-to-me Irish beers. Content warning: some have pandemic-themed names, so if you're not into that, skip the first few.

Hope had the latest in their Innovation Series lined up for keg but it ended up getting canned with a rudimentary label instead. Plan C (19) is an American-hopped pale ale, 5% ABV and toting a heady mix of Idaho 7, El Dorado, Citra and Azacca. It certainly smells of the promised fruit candy: not juicy but definitely sweet. There's a surprise dankness in the foretaste, then Citra's lime punch before the more tropical hops add exotic vapours to the finish. The combination works incredibly well and repeats itself on every mouthful. 5% ABV gives it plenty of substance, the unfermented malt sugars carrying the hops across the palate. It's fun stuff, both fruity for the kiddies and properly bitter for the grown-ups. I only had one but a few of these would do no harm at all.

No half measures with the latest from Hopfully: Stay Safe! comes with a donation to frontline workers. This is a 6.2% ABV DDH IPA and is, of course, a murky yellow colour. The aroma is tragically savoury, like someone made a liqueur out of sesame seeds. And the same goes for the flavour: a middle eastern mix of parsley, onion, mint and garlic. This is not what IPA is supposed to taste like. The can doesn't tell us what the hops involved were, but it doesn't matter. I would be very interested to hear from anyone who has tried this and thinks it's an acceptable flavour for IPA. It's not for me, though I'm happy I contributed to a good cause.

"an IPA especially for this strange and unsettling time" reads the strange and unsettling description on Lock Down from Kildare Brewing. It's brewed with American hops to 6.3% ABV and pours a slightly sickly-looking opaque yellowish orange. The aroma is sweet and a little worty, with overtones of undiluted squash and lurid fruit icepops. I was expecting something overly sweet but the flavour surprised with a nicely assertive bitterness: a pithy, pulpy sort of effect, still in the realm of oranges but more about their tangy acidity than mouthwatering juice. The effect is accentuated by a dry mineral rasp; chalky plasterboard and flint. A slight wet-cardboard twang on the end suggests that oxidation might be a factor here, so if you've got one, drink it soon as. Overall it's quite decent, if lacking polish. I wouldn't describe it as west-coast exactly, but the flavour profile is definitely pointing more towards California than Vermont.

I recently reviewed Kinnegar's collaboration with the Brewgooder project and now it turns out Wicklow Wolf did one too. I'm guessing the name -- Are You Well? -- isn't intended as topical, but as a reference to Brewgooder's work creating clean water supplies for the developing world. It's a double IPA, though of a modest 7.3% ABV. The appearance is most unorthodox, for these days anyway: it's a clear amber colour. It uses Sabro: the other coconutty hop, and boy does it smell coconutty, with a pinch of the citrus that comes with it in Sorachi Ace beers. Despite that understated ABV it's quite thick, even a little syrupy. Thankfully the hops are in control, roaring over any potential malt stickiness. Lemon rind, marmalade on brown bread and a harder aspirin twang right on the finish. It's nearly a lovely clean and bitter west-coaster, being just a little too thick. I liked the weirdness, though, and loved that it's not another by-the-numbers cloudy yellow job.

The latest DOT to come my way is Southern Living, a hazy IPA, living large at 7.2% ABV. It's pale and custardy-looking, the aroma a lovely dessertish lemon meringue effect: a spritz of citrus on a soft vanilla base. That lemon and lime kick is more assertive in the flavour than I was expecting, and that's to the beer's benefit. It's fun how it stays fresh, clean and bitter while also soft and pillowy. Mind you, there's not much else going on: the spritz fades first, then the cakey sweetness follows it. It's decent, with none of the regular flaws of hazy IPA. That's probably its most distinguishing feature, however.

Trouble badged their new 7.6%-er, Speakerbox, a double IPA. It's an opaque orange shade with a stack of loose white bubbles on top, 440ml filling out a pint glass nicely. The aroma is juice-first, though there's a crisp edge of rye cracker and caraway in there too. The "double" epithet is earned in the texture: it is thick, though with legitimate chewy malt, not sickly syrup. It feels more like a classic bock or a hefty stout than most of what gets called IPA these days; balanced and not hot. The flavor is quite serious, centred on a very old-world jaffa-pith bitterness, fading first to wax and green veg before wafting a spritz of satsuma in the very finish. This, again, is very different to the hazy IPAs currently in fashion. Despite the haze there's much more of the west coast about it, albeit without the clear cleanness; and I also found myself thinking of English strong ale too: that mix of earthy hops and a malt-driven belly-warmth. Warm enough for it to feel a percentage point or two higher than it is. Stephen says he finds it difficult to interpret my reviews as positive or negative, so for his benefit, this is a positive one. I was hoping for a bit more zesty fun from Speakerbox, but appreciated its serious and grown-up take on the double IPA. Calibrate your palate before opening.

Teeny Tiny is a micro-IPA (3.3% ABV) originally brewed by Dead Centre to celebrate the first anniversary of their pub in Athlone a couple of months ago. The style is one where a high bar has been set locally by Whiplash's Northern Lights. The can doesn't state the location of production, though I understand from a recent Irish Beer Snob podcast that Dead Centre beers are now being brewed at 12 Acres. Anyway, it's a bright and hazy orange colour and smells both fruity and spicy: a traditional Christmas mix of satsumas and nutmeg. There's nothing teeny or tiny about the flavour. It's starts with a big citrus tang, almost verging on sour, and behind this are savoury herbs (dill, marjoram) and a rich layer of vanilla. A waft of garlic finishes it off. It's convincing. The features here are very much those of modern IPA and are uncompromised by the low strength. My only complaint is that I'd like the hop flavours to be brighter and fruitier: not an unreasonable request when Citra and El Dorado are involved. Nevertheless, just like Northern Lights, this is an impressive trick of the brewer's art.

Speaking of which, there's a new Whiplash out and they've gone for something hazy and hoppy this time: an IPA called Reckoner. Though a full 6.3% ABV it smells light and casual, a gentle fruit salad with pineapple, mango and mandarin segments. The texture is smooth -- thanks oats! -- and the flavour is... a surprise. The first thing I got wasn't fruit but garlic, chased by mild vanilla and a bite of earthy yeast sharpness. As IPA flavours go, it's the group of death for me but there's a kick of juice right at the finish that saves it. Not overly sweet, not overly savoury and barely dreggy with no heat. While I'm not bowled over by it I enjoyed my time in its company. It's solid, steady and perhaps deserving of a place in the regular lineup.

Just before the end of life-as-we-knew-it, White Gypsy released a pair of continental-style lagers which I've been seeking ever since. I'll keep looking for the Vienna*, but meanwhile here is White Gypsy Munich Lager. The appearance doesn't give the full München Bierkeller experience, there being a slight haze adding a greyish tint to the otherwise golden liquid. It's incredibly rich: full-bodied and teaming with golden-syrup malt flavours. I had been blithely assuming this was a Helles, that being the workaday beer style of Munich, but it's much more Märzen-tasting. 5.8% ABV should probably have been a clue there. To the initial golden syrup you can add spongecake, cut grass and a slightly off-putting kick of banana. This isn't a summer beer garden lager. It's one to hunker down with when the rain is pelting outside and you're debating lighting the fire. No easy drinking here, but if you're after süffig, this has it in spades.

(*Derp! I've already had it. Review here.)

Staying on lager, Dundalk Bay has released a Brewmaster Maibock. Bit of an unfashionable style, but that's no harm, especially now that it's apparently May. It's a lovely rose-gold colour and smells sweetly of honeyish malt with an air of fresh-mown grass behind. Both texture and flavour are absolutely on point for the style, and it's not even a style I particularly enjoy, normally. Though a whopping 6.5% ABV it's smooth rather than sticky, keeping the sweetness on the down-low. Its noble hops are a peppery seasoning on the base, with none of the burnt plastic or busy cabbage that German hops can impart if they're not kept under control. The whole picture -- and this is very much a whole-picture beer -- is clean and distinctive: Maibock done precisely according to the guidelines and indistinguishable from a really good German example. Well played, Dundalk Bay.

From the bay on the opposite coast, Galway Bay, comes Lux Raspberry, a fruited sour ale. It's very pink: a hazy rose-coloured body topped by cerise foam. Obviously I expected this to be one of those jammy sugarbombs that everyone makes these days, but it's not: there's a proper sourness here. It's no Belgian framboise, being too candy-flavoured and doesn't taste of real raspberries, macerated or otherwise. It's far from unpleasant, however. No trace of jam or lactose here but perfume, sherbet and a splash of classy balsamic. These can be a little thin, but a full 5% ABV gives this decent substance, while there's a neat and clean finish. Both complex and undemanding, this is a fun and only slightly silly little number.

Brú has pushed ahead with the roll-out of its revamped line-up, including an "American Red IPA" called Atlantic Odyssey. It's not very red and, at just 5.5% ABV, not terribly American either. Can't argue with the aroma, though: fresh and peachy, with an underlying promise of refreshing lemon tea. On tasting it goes heavier on the malt: a chewy sort of cake and fudge. I probably should have expected this to taste more like an American amber ale and I'm not at all complaining that it does. The IPA boost comes in a harder bitter twang in the finish, turning a little vegetal or even metallic, but it's of the balancing-complexity sort and not at all a flaw. This is good. Classically styled and accessible; making good use of dark malts and C-hops in modest quantities while staying interesting and engaging. At first I thought the relatively low strength was a mistake but by then end I was wishing they had made it more sessionable.

Also continuing business as usual is Eight Degrees. Beer number two in their Irish Munro series is Glen of Imaal, an oatmeal pale ale. It's a handsome clear golden colour and smells sweetly fruity, with a Starburst effect from Vic Secret and Amarillo hops. Alongside them are Mandarina Bavaria and HBC-692, a Sabro variant. Sure enough there's that pith-and-coconut effect, low on the latter but tasting strongly of real jaffa. The oatmeal gives it a body and an intensity worthy of something much stronger, those pithy hops staying constant through the finish and into the aftertaste. One could accuse this of being a little one-dimensional but I really enjoyed what it does: there's nothing plain or boring about its big punchiness. Galway Bay's Goodbye Blue Monday has long been the byword for hop-intense oatmeal pale ale in these parts. This gives it some serious competition.

Reel Deel's Winter Ale is out of season, but such details hardly matter any more: sometimes you just need something strong, dark and comforting to hold you from the inside. It's 6.5% ABV so not rocket fuel, a rich chestnut brown colour and sustains a layer of ivory foam all the way down. The comfort factor is unfortunately quite low. Yes there's a big chocolate flavour but not the body to back it up. The special ingredients are ginger and star anise and it's the latter that stands out: a strong punch of aniseed, rendered sharper by a tangy sourness in the base beer. I think the fundamental problem here is over-attenuation. The richness has fermented out of it leaving just the pointy bits, laced with mild vinegar. It may have been better in actual winter; now it's something of a challenge to get through.

So that's what's happening at the moment, broadly speaking. The virus doesn't seem to have dampened anyone's appetite for IPA.