Autumn beckons

A change of season is upon us, and as we bid farewell to this strange sad summer, let's have a few beers.

Hey, remember Neomexicanus? Most of my experience with the semi-feral American hop came via St Mel's never-repeated experiment with it back in 2015. Now Rye River has decided to take it on with the latest in its Limited Edition Series: The Dropper. Tamed Neomexicanus variety Sabro has been used, as well as the newly-named crossbreed Talus (still only "HBC 692" when the label went to print). The beer is an American-style pale ale of 5.4% ABV, hazed with London Fog yeast to a translucent yellow-orange. The aroma is pithy: an instant reminder that Sabro, for me, has a lot in common with Sorachi Ace. There's a beautiful switcheroo on tasting, however. Where I was expecting bitter, and possibly plasticky, there's a gorgeous juice tang which is a little bit tangerine and a big bit grapefruit. It's invigorating without being harsh; refreshing without being thin; complex without being awkward. In short, it's a near-perfect pale ale, reminding me somewhat of the best pale English bitters with its soft drinkability, though obviously far too strong for that sort of thing. The brewery has pitched this as a daring feat of radical hopping but the result is pure and unfussy quality quaffing.

Maui Wowie is the latest terpene-infused "high PA" from Black's of Kinsale. It's a medium orange colour with what passes for a mild dose of haze these days. The aroma is fun and spritzy, a playful squirt of grapefruit juice in your eye as you're peeling. There's a similar fun sharpness in the flavour: satsuma pith and mandarin peel. Next to it there's a savoury side which the brewery is describing as pepper but to me it lacks piquancy, tasting more like cedar wood or balsam resin. The whole thing is certainly unusual, and in a good way. A full 5% ABV, it manages to stay refreshing and sinkable, though it's worth pausing to explore complexities you don't find in everyday IPA. This isn't for everyone but I fully regard "different" as a positive selling point at the moment.

It's been a while since Beoir Chorca Duibhne has featured on these pages, but my eye was caught by a new one from them in Redmonds because they've upgraded their usual stark labels for a picture of the local coastline. It's an Antipodean Ale, owing to the use of Galaxy for dry hopping, and a sturdy 6% ABV. In the glass it's amber coloured with an off-white head, though the aroma is all about the Munich malt richness rather than hops of any provenance. And it's far from a hop bomb on tasting, to the point of barely qualifying as IPA. Gingerbread, hibiscus tea, cherry bakewells and barm brack all feature. We are definitely in afternoon-tea territory. Very civilised. If this was an attempt at going all modern, BCD has failed. But it's a lovely, warming, flavoursome and traditionally-styled beer.

Dinner at 57 The Headline gave me the chance to try Popsicle, the latest from Hopfully. It's a session IPA of 4.5% ABV and very densely murky. The flavour opens on a note of fluffy peach and follows through to coconut, with some slight garlicky vapours drifting in at the finish, along with the chalky dryness I often find in these. It's quite a simple take on the New England IPA genre and offers nothing I haven't tasted before, but it's tasty and enjoyable, making good use of its modest specifications.

Had this been a normal kinda summer I would have drank this new Two Sides beer on tap at 57 The Headline or Brickyard, for whom it was brewed by Third Barrel, but it's a Different Kinda Summer, so it's a can at home. A pale ale at a pub-worthy 4.3% ABV, it's a similar pale and hazy yellow to Two Sides's previous summer banger, Two Yards. The aroma, too, is equal parts juicy and dank in a very enticing way. They queue up in the flavour, being bitter, herbal and dank first -- hello Simcoe -- and then fading out on vanilla and orange ice pops. It's a lovely combination, showing two of the US hop world's most delicious facets. There's a bill to be paid for that strength, though, and it is a little thin which offsets the hop impact somewhat. The plus side of that is sessionability: you could definitely down several pints of this without getting bored or overwhelmed. The draft version is available in both pubs (with food) if you want to try it as it was intended, but can is no hardship.

Next up, guess what: New England IPA. Whatever their individual merits there sure are a lot of these. Anyway, Devils Chimney is the exciting name, brewed by Lough Gill to 7% ABV. It's an orangey colour and quite thick set, something that matches the heavy orange-cordial flavour. That initial sugary twang fades quickly and is replaced by a slightly nasty plastic acridity. There's a little wax or pith bitterness too, which is more acceptable but still contributes to the harshness. I can see why brewers of this sort of thing go for the soft vanilla sweetness: something like that would really help this beer out. This is quite a rough, angular take on New England, drawing in elements from the sharper west coast style, but not to the extent that it improves things. It doesn't taste like everyone else's NEIPA, so there's that. Difference, again, is to the good.

Galway Hooker is having no truck with any of this and put "West Coast IPA" in block capitals on the front of the second in their Seafarer Series. To underline that, it's called Citrus. Hit me with those beta acids! Although this is the appropriate shade of amber, it's not pleasingly clear, looking quite soupy in the glass and topped with lots of busy froth. The aroma is fresh and, well, citric, with notes of pine and lime, though also a slightly juicy tone as well. They just can't help themselves, can they? Thankfully there's no soppy juiciness in the flavour. It's well balanced between sharp, dry hops and crunchy caramel malt. There's some rye in the grain bill which probably helps contribute to that sharpness. That said, it's not severe, or even especially bitter, and the lime's edge is softened by a floral perfume effect. An oily weediness rounds out the flavour. The murk has given it a soft texture, one that suggests the east coast much more than the west to me. Only when I'd finished it did I notice on the can that lemon juice, lime juice and orange peel were added ingredients. I'm not sure they brought anything that couldn't be done with hops. So this isn't a pure antidote to New England IPA but is very decent and unfussy drinking.

Also heading for the West Coast, because I guess Irish IPA is now a rap war by proxy, is Third Circle with their all-Centennial Centurion. We go up to 6% ABV here and get an extra punch for our trouble. Here is the no-nonsense dry and sharp heavyweight I was expecting: a grapefruit wrapped in crepe paper covered in balsa wood. There's pine aplenty, rolling oily late into the finish. It's almost a clear red-gold, though not quite, but without any trace of softness, roundness or any gentle caresses. That said, it doesn't go to extremes: no alcohol heat or hop-resin burn. This is clean and old-fashioned fun; a proper palate scrubber and a pleasing throwback to the old days when IPAs treated you cruelly and didn't call for days after. You have to be into that to like this, and while I'm glad there are options in the IPA sphere, I'm extremely happy to get one of these now and again. West coast done proper.

From the same brewery, the next under the Crafty Bear brand is a red IPA called Bimbos. Why? I don't know. It's an "Imperal Red" according to the label, and 8% ABV. I liked its clear deep amber hue and expected warming barley wine vibes from it. The aroma presents more of a modern hop fruitiness, backed by a promise of rich roasted malt. An odd mix comes through from the flavour, all of it at once. I found myself having to mentally slow the process down to pick it apart. Loudest is red liquorice ropes, candy-sweet with a mild herbal bitterness. Tangy strawberry jam runs alongside, then more traditional hop bitterness: crunchy red cabbage and sticky pine. Wafting over the top is a peppery spice, helping dry out any sugary excesses. The end result is rather good. It reaches the parts you might usually call on a barley wine for, being warming, complex an satisfying to sip, but it's also hop-forward and punchy. A best-of-both-worlds job, despite the poorly-chosen name.

Mind you, that pales in comparison next to Treaty City's decision to call their new one "Limited Bitch". Eww. This is also red, an IPA of 5.5% ABV and hopped with Summit, a bit like Metalman classic Windjammer. The aroma is earthy and savoury, not what one would expect from an IPA, even a red one. There's a little bitterness in the flavour, punchy in the foretaste but fading quickly. Then there's a burnt-caramel edge, some dry tannins and the thick toffee of a typical red ale. This doesn't have much going for it, its best feature being the full texture, so at least it feels like a good red ale even if it doesn't necessarily taste like one, and very little like an IPA.

Wide Street's first go at a mixed-fermentation lager didn't impress me much, but they've made another attempt, with one called Diversion. It's a bit of a beast at 6.4% ABV, hazy and yellow, and smelling sharply sour in a Pajottenland stylee. Sure enough there's a lot of sourness and a lot of funk in the aroma: vinegar time in the farmyard. The texture is thick and gummy in the way that Brett does but lager doesn't. A hint of peach and apricot peeps through the powerful acidity. This certainly doesn't fall into the trap of being neither one thing or another: it's unashamedly sour and funky. It took a bit of getting used to but I was into it by the end. Maybe a little more of that Bretty funk would have helped balance the extreme tartness better, but that's a minor quibble. Spare a thought for anyone who didn't read past the word "Lager" on the label.

I needed a comedown from such giddy heights of sourness so it was back to Lough Gill for their Wild Irish Gose. This has been out for ages and I was convinced I'd had it under a different name and branding. But nothing in previous blog posts matches the spec, so here we go. It's an unassuming 4% ABV and a perfect limpid gold. A lemon spritz is the opener and it doesn't get more sour than that, even when the briny salt follows it on stage. Coriander isn't listed as an ingredient but there's a definite herbal complexity in there. Despite the strength it has a full texture as well as plenty of cleansing bubbles. This isn't an exciting beer, but is enjoyable in an understated way. Just what I was after.

As is obvious from the above, properly dark beers are thin on the ground this weather, so I had to turn to a very unseasonal "hot cross bun pastry stout" from Dead Centre: Four Quarters. 6.8% ABV, it gloops out into the glass, oily and dense, briefly forming a dark brown head which quickly crackles away. Apart from a small cinnamon spice element, there's not much novelty about the aroma but plenty of rich and tarry stout-roast. The flavour is very strange, and not what I was expecting. For one thing it's quite dry, with a harsh zinc-ish twang in the foretaste. In the centre, a heavy dollop of marmalade, suddenly calling witbier to mind. It turns out that orange peel is an ingredient, so that explains that. As is cinnamon but it's a lot less prominent in the flavour than the aroma, coming across in a slightly medicinal/mouthwash way. There are raisins too, which I couldn't taste, and as an insurance policy to guarantee the hot cross bun effect, the ingredients also include actual hot cross buns. Isn't that cheating? All in all, this is a near miss. Pastry stouts must be heavy, thick and sweet, and the dry metallic side on display here prevents that. In the absence of other stouts it will do, and it's an idea that's worth trying again, but filling out the body is the first thing I'd address.

As the nights begin to draw in I'm hoping that dark beers will be easier to find for the next one of these round-ups.