Pale writer

Further explorations of the Heaney Farmhouse Brewery today, a company with two faces, it seems.

Big Little IPA self-describes as a session IPA and is 4.2% ABV. Lots of busy foam on pouring falls away almost immediately, leaving it looking like a glass of pure orange juice. Such is the modern way. The aroma is quite sharp: a citrus acidity leaning towards harsher mineral aspirin. There's a bit of dreggy fuzz in the background of the flavour but it's much better up front: jaffa pith, a brush of zest and a surprise nutmeg spicing. The use of oats has given it the full body of a much stronger beer, and I think of this not so much as one to drink repeatedly through a session, but for having one when you want a big flavour hit without lots of alcohol. On the one hand it's not as clean as I'd like and is a tad harsh, but on the other these are acceptable compromises for something this boldly flavoured.

To follow, a 7% ABV IPA that's also a knowing comment on the state of beer today: Style Over Everything. There are the same head retention problems but the body looks good, a bright and warming sunset orange. It smells a little sickly, of undiluted cordial and children's medicine. Enigma is the hop they've used to achieve the effect. The flavour is along similar lines: a big concentrated orange taste, accentuated by considerable alcohol heat and a very thick mouthfeel. Enigma is the hop they've done it with. Like the previous beer, this too could pass for much stronger, only this time that's not in its favour. Another tough drinker here, and there's just not enough fun happening to make that OK.

In my last Heaney rundown I said that dark beers seemed to be what they do best. I hope we get more along those lines from them soon.

As well as all these fancy-dan cans, the brewery also has a core range of bottles in safe traditional styles. The stout I was impressed by, the red I have not yet seen, but two others came my way lately. I imagined myself in a Bellaghy pub, a long way from any high-fashion beer, in order to give them a fair airing.

Heaney Irish Blonde is what they offer in lieu of a lager. It's 4.3% ABV and the hazy yellow of a witbier. A yeast-driven gunpowder spice is the aroma, plus a peachy ester effect: all par for the course when it comes to rural bottle-conditioned blonde ale. Time for a deep pull... It passes the quaff test: zero off-flavours; no twangs or oddness. That mineral spice dominates the foretaste, followed by a mouth-searing pale-malt dryness. In the background that's softened by a little cantaloupe and honeydew, fading out on an English-style wax-and-metal bitterness. This is absolutely built for the purpose I expected: to sit on the shelves of a rural pub, unloved until someone wants something other than Harp or Tennent's. And it fills the role wonderfully: massively complex if you're given to analysis; but also clean and simple drinking for when you're just out to be social. Perfect pitch.

Pale ale is a tough one in this milieu. It's not a traditional style -- Irish microbreweries didn't make any until 2006 -- so what should a traditionally-aimed one taste like? Heaney Irish Pale Ale at least looks like the archetype, Galway Hooker: a relaxed medium amber. The ABV is substantially higher, however, being the full 5%. Grapefruit and candy says the aroma, followed by a flavour mixing old-school American citrus with older-school British tannins. It's a winning combination: a base of bitter overlaid with fresh new-world zing. It's familiar but different, bringing the excitement of the first American-style beer brewed here with a totally unique flavour combination, including echoes of that nice cask bitter you had in that lovely pub in Yorkshire that time.

Conclusion? I think I'm the discerning older gentleman that the bottled Heaney's beers are pitched at. And I'm absolutely down with that. They're just better beers. This post wasn't meant to be a new local front in the beer culture wars but here we are. Don't let the multicoloured cans deceive you.