Squash tournament

It's Halloween tomorrow, and Ireland has a new pumpkin beer: White Hag Samhain Pumpkin Ale, challenging Trouble Pumpkin Brew's dominance of the sector. For the curséd year that's in it, Trouble has canned theirs for the first time. I opted to take the Pepsi challenge and sample them blind side-by-side.

Both are orange. One is hazy with little head, the other a clear amber with a handsome thick foam topping. The hazy one smells powerfully sweet, all brown sugar, treacle, yams and banana-on-the-turn. The other is much more subtle, with a gentle autumnal spice. Though they're occupying the same space, it's obvious from the get-go these are very different beers.

I took my first sip from the clear one, finding it clean and lagery, to the point of seeming plain. As in the aroma it's just lightly spiced; a modest amount of novelty, but ultimately a sessionable drinking beer first. The soupy chap, then, is like drinking Halloween candy. Add butterscotch, soft caramel and milk chocolate to the list of types of sugar it conjures. Though the texture isn't very thick, there's a certain booze heat, making me think this is the stronger of the pair. It's certainly my least favourite, lacking the spices I like and just too damn sweet. If you want something silly for the Halloween party you're definitely not having, this works.

It wasn't difficult to guess that the hot sugar-bomb was White Hag's 6.2% ABV beast, while the subtly spiced lager-like was Trouble. Obviously pumpkin beers are never to be taken seriously, but Trouble really bring an art to the silliness, creating something balanced, drinkable, and just a damn good beer, all novelty aside. But if you're in it solely for the gimcrack candy, there's an option for that now too.

Nothing fancy

Spare a thought for poor old red ale, the most unloved of Ireland's "traditional" beer styles, at least by the latter-day craft movement. Presumably people are still buying them out there because even small breweries will occasionally brew them. I have two such for you this autumn day.

In a very-craft 440ml can comes Renegade from Dublin City Brewing, the second Irish beer to use the name, after Soulwater's American-style amber a few years back. It's a suitably middle-of-the-road session-strength 4.2% ABV and a pleasingly limpid dark garnet colour. It's mostly quite dry, almost roasty but not quite. Overdone sticky caramel is the bane of this style but it's successfully avoided here. Stopping it from being boring is a floral complexity: a violet and elderflower perfume; as well as a dusting of flaky milk chocolate. More of these features would be welcome but the underlying gravity just isn't big enough for anything more than a quick burst before it fades out into watery disappointment. This is designed for quaffing, and I threw back my glassful with ease. There's the makings of a quality sipper here, however, if they ever decided to imperialise it a little.

To compare and contrast, Heaney Irish Red, only a little bit stronger at 4.5% ABV. It's part of the bottled core-range of Heaney beer, along with a Blonde and a Stout, both of which I've enjoyed. It's a deep ruby red in the glass, and a little murky with it. The yeasty lees provide a spice to the aroma. The flavour goes big on burnt, in the best possible way: a crunch of caramelised sugar and a wisp of smoke. After an initial sweetness the finish is clean and dry, and not too soon. This is a class act; a wholesome roasted Sunday joint in a glass; perfect winter drinking that doesn't have to blow your head. Once again, Heaney has delivered a safe middle-of-the-road beer that's far from boring: the classical elegance that German brewers turn out effortlessly but which is less common here.

Neither of these are dull predictable Smithwick's clones: both bring a unique sensibility to the Irish red genre and offer the punter something of real interest. The dark and moody stylings of Heaney was my preference over Dublin City's brighter, sweeter take.

Nitro The Living Dead

It's another grand array of Colorado beers for you today (I did Odell a few weeks ago) and this time Left Hand is the brewery bringing the goods.

We'll begin with the basic styles, and a pilsner kicks off proceedings, one called 1265. It's on the strong side at 5.2% ABV but looks light: a limpid white-gold shade. There's a faint lemon aroma and the flavour, too, is citrussy in a very new-world way. This is no faithful recreation of anything Czech or German. It's fine, though. While the alcohol is high, it still comes across light and easy-going, which is a valid way to approach pils. Needs more Saaz, however.

The companion pale ale is called Colorful Colorado, 5.6% ABV and a hazy orange, but not quite opaque: brewed to look unfiltered, not unfinished. It smells of orange candy and the flavour is very much a throwback to old-school APA. To explain, there's a heavy crystal malt sweetness giving it a toffee and caramel base, and then a seam of sharp grapefruit running through this. It's not balanced, exactly, but the contrast is pleasing, with the hops gradually rising to dominate by the end. This is almost quaint in how it's put together, and while it's not very exciting, it's a reminder of happier, gentler, more grapefruit-forward times.

Before we fire up the fancy gas, a porter on straight CO2. It's called Death Before Disco and is 6% ABV. "A full bodied classic with rich chocolate malt and dark berry notes" says the can, and I wish I hadn't read that before starting to drink, because yes it is full-bodied, and yes it does taste of chocolate and yes there are dark berry notes too. What's left for me to say? Well... the berry has a touch of black cherry about it, and there's an almondy marzipan paste quality as well. There's a substantial edge of roast coffee around the chocolate as well, bringing a balancing dryness. The finish is a bit of a let-down as none of the complexity builds, just clearing off the palate instead: I prefer something this strong to hang around longer, for improved sippability. Overall, though, it's very decent. A solid and unfussy porter with just the right level of complexity.

"Your nitro passport to paradise" sounds like a threat, but that's the actual strapline for Gettin' Tiki With It "piña colada wheat". It's been around since the spring, there was a lot left over, it was cheap, and that's my excuse, your honour. Wheat beer with pineapple, coconut and lactose: OK fine, but 7.5% ABV? That seems excessive. A hard pour yielded a mildly hazy glassful of spun gold, topped with a sturdy hockey puck of cream.

The aroma gives little away -- because nitro -- and the flavour is very muted too. The coconut is most apparent, its oily sweetness not dependent on carbonation to push it out. Beyond that, just a vague sickly blandness, not at all different to nitrogenated pale English bitter, like the zombie horror Boddington's has become. I can say officially I am not tiki with it. The blandness means it's inoffensive and I think the alcoholic power is about the best thing going for it: it's still easy drinking despite that. But this looks like an attempt to do something complex and fun, completely undermined by the decision to use novelty gas. Not a beer for beer-drinkers.

I expected better things from the next nitro can, Hard Wired. It's a coffee porter and it's hard to go too far wrong there, even when pumping it full of unnatural gas. The coffee aroma escapes the pillowy head, smelling fresh and sweet, like a latte or frappucino. There's an edge of roasted bean in the flavour, a sprinkling of brown sugar, but that's your lot. I'm sure there's a decent, solid porter under there, but the nitro and coffee have buried it. The creamy texture makes this sweet coffee feel like it has too much milk in it. I was very surprised to discover that despite the coffee kick there is absolutely no aftertaste once the initial effect fades. Weird. That at least makes it, again, easy and unchallenging to to drink. It's not a bad beer, but very one-dimensional.

We finish on a 10.2% ABV nitro monster: Wake Up Dead. This one does the best impression of draught nitro beer, the pale-beige cream making me actually nostalgic for pints of stout in the pub. The deadening effect of nitrogen on flavour helps conceal the alcohol here, making for some dangerously easy drinking this time. I wonder if that's deliberate, attracting a crowd that wants macho strong beer but can't usually handle the hot sharp edges? And there is a proper old-school imperial stout under here, with a decent level of leafy bitterness. Some sharply roasted espresso arrives after that, not too loud but definitely present. It's good but, once again, take away the nitro and it could be superb.

It was always going to be tough for Left Hand to convince me that adding nitrogen is any kind of enhancement of their beers, and I should note that I know how much skill goes into it, having tasted the results from other breweries who haven't been so successful nitrogenating their own packaged beers. I'll just say that beer is better off without it, and leave it there.

You are not alone

Beer Hut is the brewery under the microscope today, beginning with two from their Solo Series of single-hop beers. At €6 for a 44cl of 6% ABV, neither was particularly cheap, but are they good value?

First up is one of my favourite hops, Mosaic. I had plenty of time to enjoy the strong weedy aroma because of all the foam and the ages it took to pour. Beneath the beehive of froth it's pale yellow and fully opaque. From the first sip I could tell they've really packed the hops in here. For one thing it's thick and slick and resinous, feeling saturated. The tropical, mango/passionfruit effect that Mosaic does best is concentrated into a paste or jam, and it's up to you whether such an extreme effect is a feature or a bug. I enjoyed the intensity. Mosaic's nasty caraway side is also present, but muted under the sheer weight of everything else. It's possible to ignore it, and I did. And then the finish brings back the ganja resins present in the aroma. Not something I associate with Mosaic, but it fits well in this bruiser. Regarding the beer as a beer rather than a sensory experiment, it's rather good. It's slick and weighty, delivering what one might expect from a double IPA at a lower strength. €6 doesn't seem like such a bad deal.

With Mosaic being such a workout, I was trepidatious going into Simcoe, a hop that doesn't hold back even when used sparingly. This one was a bit more mannerly to pour, arriving the same custardy colour but with less head. The aroma is surprisingly similar: that mix of concentrated tropical fruit and green oily resins. The flavour certainly rolls back on the fruit, but doesn't replace it with much. There's an added spicing -- nutmeg in particular -- but none of the hard acid and resin I was expecting. It's actually quite a cuddly little fellow, with plenty of soft New England vibes. The Simcoe hardmen will be disappointed but I enjoyed its gentle lemon sorbet vibes.

Moving on from the Solos, we have a Mixtape to finish on, the mix being Chinook, Citra and Mosaic. London Fog yeast means it's hazy again: the same yellow shade. Although the aroma is fruity too, it is more complex than in the others, showing lemon pith, mango flesh and garlic oil. There's lots of candied lemon peel and lemonade in the foretaste, getting gradually sweeter as it goes, bringing peachy stonefruit, before finishing dankly. A great deal is going on here, and again a heavy texture gives it plenty of room to happen in. I was therefore shocked to discover, half way through, that it's a mere 4% ABV. In texture and intensity it's not noticeably different from the 6%-ers above. Overall, an excellent light take on hazy IPA which doesn't compromise on hop wallop.

So here's Beer Hut, giving the hop lovers what they want. I respect their commitment to piling them in while also managing to turn out very drinkable beer at the other end.

Brazilians bringing New England to Waterford

A tidy little pair from Hopfully today, 33cl cans sporting their new clean-but-weird artwork.

Insideout is first, 5% ABV and telling us nothing more about it on the can. Well, nothing much. It doesn't says it's hazy (it should) but the inclusion of oats on the ingredients is a clue. Turns out it's full-on New England: the opaque colour of orange juice and smelling of satsumas, vanilla and garlic. The flavour has a certain amount of pleasant juice, particularly in the finish, but there's a sharp savoury bite up front that I don't care for. There's a fair measure of dank resins in the middle too, providing balance of a sort. It's nearly a very good example of the hazy pale ale style, and those who like their pale ales fluffy and sweet will find much to enjoy here. That caraway pinch up front (that you Mosaic?) spoiled it just a little for me, however.

Spoonerising low-quality gose, the companion IPA is called Shinebright. It's a medium orange-to-yellow, and opaque again: another crypto-New-Englander, perhaps? Again, the can doesn't tell us what the hops are, which I'm starting to think is a fault in hop-forward beers like this. That said, it's not saturated and the flavours are quite subtle. There's a gentle orange and lemon vibe; cool and summery, suggesting long drinks under parasols: quite an achievement for the dark and damp October night on which I drank it. Despite a full 6% ABV, it manages to stay light, crisp and clean; easy to drink with no alcohol burn or sharp hop-acid edges. Fans of the big vanilla-and-garlic bombs might decry it as bland, but I really enjoyed its understated complexity.

Conclusions? Sometimes hazy pale ales are good and sometimes they're not so good? But you knew that already.

Brown under

Today it's the return of the New Zealand contract brewer Yeastie Boys. Only two of the beers are brown but I couldn't resist the title.

The first they've called Shadow of the Dog but I don't know why. Neither do I know where it's brewed -- they're usually good about putting provence on the can but there's none here. It's a dunkelweizen and it feels weird to be drinking one of those in a 33cl measure. Authenticity doesn't seem to have been a concern, however, as it's a piddling 4.6% ABV and has damn all head retention. The aroma is as banana-filled as I expected, but there's a nice ashen roasted dryness there too, to counter it. In the mouth it's fizz first, then banana candy, fading out swiftly on toffee and bourbon biscuits. It's hard to impress me with this style, and it's not even a great example. An unsurprisingly thin texture is the final insult. Maybe it was fun to devise and brew but I don't get what they hoped to achieve with something both cloying and watery.

American-style brown ale is an altogether more promising prospect. YB's is called Dream Sequence and is an unAmerican 4.8% ABV. This has been brewed at and in collaboration with Utopian Brewing in Devon. It's a clear chestnut brown, with rather a better head than the dunkelweizen. Lots of hops in the aroma: lemon sherbet and bitterer pine, which smells like good times ahead. The pine is ascendant in the flavour, but tempered by a café crème sweet smoothness. There's a light roast, a smear of dank resins and a chunk of Fry's Turkish Delight. A lot going on, then, and all of it's good. Yes it's lighter than any American example I know but that doesn't compromise it. This is worthy of going toe-to-toe with the excellent American-style brown that Rye River makes for Lidl: if you like that, this is worth your while too.

And so to the inevitable hazy IPA. Born Smiling "tropical IPA" may not have been intended as hazy, but the sediment fairly clouds it up on pouring. The tropical side comes from added mango. Let's find out if that was a good idea. Its aroma isn't up to much, just a trace of that inappropriate funk that sometimes comes with fruit pulp in beers. The foretaste was a real surprise: a ping of pink peppercorn spice that's delightfully whimsical. This mutates on the tongue into a hard citrus tang, mouthwatering like a segment of grapefruit. Softer tangerine and apricot wraps itself around it, the complexity very much hop-derived, thanks to Nelson Sauvin and Hallertau Blanc. I'd have expected more of a grape quality from those two but I'm not complaining. This is no simplistic novelty fruited IPA, it's very well constructed, each separate element contributing positively to the whole. And despite the complexity and a big 6.5% ABV, it's light and accessible too: win win.

I like that Yeastie Boys aren't slavishly following fashion with these, ploughing their own furrow and, apart from a false start, doing so rather well.

Bay cans

Two cans from Galway Bay today. I'm used to trying their new releases on draught at The Black Sheep so this feels a bit weird. Still, at least it means I'm not blocking the bar trying to get an in-focus shot of the tap badge.

I hadn't realised that Oregon Grown was going to be a series, but here's a second one, following on from the one with Idaho 7, El Dorado and Strata reviewed in June's round-up. This time we get Amarillo, Azacca, Summit and, unlike the first one, it's clear! West coast represent! The aroma is an unsettling mix of spices and plastic with an overlay of fruit candy. There's a firm heft to the mouthfeel; a greasy thickness entirely in keeping with its 6% ABV. And also in keeping with that, and the west-coast sensibility, is a punchy, waxy bitterness, kicking hard from the first sip. Grapefruit peel, lime zest, concentrated pine essence: all the classic hits I associate with Citra and Cascade with neither of them involved. Azacca's fruit-chew sweet does make a certain lighter contribution, but it's a sideshow. This is one of those so-worthwhile west coast revivals. There's tonnes of hop complexity to unpick, but it's equally as enjoyable as a loud rock 'n' roll quaffer.

And for the season: Oktoberfest Märzen, a wholesome and soft-textured 5.8%-er. The colour is darker than a typical Oktoberfestbier, but not quite the dark amber of American versions (and the ones the Germans make for America these days). This middle ground serves it well. I'm not bothered about authenticity but am bothered about having a cuddly, warming autumnal lager that's satisfying to drink outdoors while soaking up the last rays from the low-hanging sun. This is that. While very much malt-forward, the Hallertau Mittelfrüh hops add a twist of orange rind, spreading some marmalade on your crusty rye bread, with a promise of winter in some subtle cinnamon and nutmeg spicing. The smoothness allows it to slip back easily, though I suspect it's too filling to make a proper session of, at least for me. I hope this becomes an annual release because it's spot-on for the time of year.

No qualms here about Galway Bay becoming a packaged beer operation, much as I'd like to be back getting in the way at the 'Sheep.

A Dog growls on Dame Street

As a small windowless bar without a kitchen, it was inevitable that UnderDog would only be re-opening at the last and most liberal phase of pandemic restrictions. There's no sign of that coming any time soon but the guys have pivoted to selling growlers for takeaway, keeping up their usual emphasis on high-end imports and first-run Irish beers. Walking down the stairs last Thursday, things felt briefly normal.

From the range on offer I picked an Omnipollo imperial stout: Mads, described as a "no bake carrot cake" beer. Too intriguing to pass up. 12% ABV means it's thick and creamy, though not boozy. I expected some spices but got none. Instead it tastes more like a chocolate cake: lots of cocoa and an edge of coffee icing. The novelty factor is provided by a strange earthy tang, which I'm guessing is carrot. It tastes more like peelings than the freshly grated stuff and I'm not sure it adds anything positive.

As an attempt to render carrot cake in beer form, then, it's a bust. But there's an enjoyable chocolatey strong stout under here and that's fine to be going on with.

I'll be keeping an eye on the UnderDog tap list when I'm in town: another habit from the olden days it's nice to be able to do again.

Whip smart

Start your week with Whiplash. I have four from the Ballyfermot murk pedlars today, but before we go all hazy IPA, a hazy farmhouse thingy: Never Cursed, a grisette of 4.1% ABV. Despite its failure to be an IPA it keeps up appearances, being a completely opaque yellow. The farmy funk gets busy right from the aroma: overripe fruit and horsey manure, concentrated to the point of burnt rubber. This was not going to be a refreshing easy ride, but I was thirsty. Two big pulls sluiced the fizz across my parched tongue, cheering it up immensely. What came in the aftermath was a little bit apricot, a sprinkling of paprika and the echo of that rubber, the latter fading after the first few mouthfuls to allow the stonefruit take centre stage. A burst of vanilla sweetness provides the finishing flourish. For a light and sessiony beer this is full-flavoured and a little busy. If you're in the mood for some considered funk and spice, it's well worth taking time over.

To the haze, then, and our first is called Horse Power -- light by Whiplash standards at 6.8% ABV but plenty dense and an intense yellow, to the point of green, colour. The hops are Citra, Idaho-7 and BRU-1, leaving me no idea what to expect. Turns out it's all fairly standard: a combination of garlic oil and sweet vanilla. There's a significant alcohol burn but it's otherwise clean, and that's its saving grace. It doesn't take long for one to become accustomed to the flavour, and with no gritty dregs getting in the way it's easy to enjoy too. Solid, middle-of-the-road stuff here, free of daftness or silly mistakes. Whiplash very occasionally adds new beers to its core range, and this is a candidate, or to be bumped to the front of the re-brew queue.

Some time later they put out another at the same strength, this time with Ekuanot, Galaxy and Strata. It's called Water Jump and cheekily took an age to pour because of all the foam, which then faded to nothing before I got to take a sip. Worst of both worlds, headwise. The body is opaque yellow again and the aroma concentrated and sweet, reminding me mostly of the orange jelly inside Jaffa Cakes, though there's a spritz of real satsuma as well. Once again we get a clean flavour, but no garlic or vanilla, just that smooth, juicy orangey goodness. The balance of bitter and sweet is spot on, with both contributing but neither dominant. Even half way down, with warmth starting to creep in, this still tasted of pure fresh-squeezed orange juice, with maybe just a mild kick of alcohol. More a Screwdriver than a Supersplit, but delicious either way.

This lot tops out on a double IPA called Haunt, brewed with Ekuanot and Strata. Standard murky orange, standard orange-and-vanilla ice lolly aroma. The flavour is a concentrated orange cordial thing, the sweetness cut with marmalade shred pieces. It's seasoned with a red peppercorn spice, adding a different kind of sweetness, but it's still very sweet. The 8.2% ABV has a lot to do with the concentrated cordial effect and I don't think it uses that extra heft to give us anything especially different -- booze for the sake of booze. It's fine but very samey. Fans of strong hoppy murk will doubtless be all-in but it's not my kind of thing really.

The West Coast revival has yet to hit Whiplash and in the meantime they're having fun with different hop combinations. The results keep on pleasing the haze maniacs, and even old cynics like me enjoy the occasional one or two. Maybe the West Coast can wait.

Flying Luponic

Firestone Walker is today's brewery of interest, starting with their take on the new category of low-strength, low-calorie IPA.

Like recent reviewees Oskar Blues One-y and Lagunitas Daytime, FW Flyjack is 4% ABV, and it wears its 96 calories as a badge of honour on the front of the can. Though badged as a hazy IPA it's very pale and watery looking, and barely hazy at all. The aroma is excellent, though: an enticing citrus/tropical buzz. That carries happily through to the flavour, with gummy apricot and cantaloupe, some mango, tangerine and a splash of pineapple. What lets it down is the texture: these sorts of flavours need a bit of substance behind them and here they're given no foundation, just a watery fizz. There's no time to enjoy the taste before it fades off the palate leaving just a carbonic burn. It's not a bad beer by any means, but it's annoyingly tantalising in the way it offers a superb flavour profile compromised by a need to stay light-bodied. If you start from a position of wanting a 96-calorie beer, however, I can't think of one better.

To get a proper kick (5.9% ABV) I turn to the Luponic Distortion IPA series. I last tried the 13th iteration, and this is No. 14, though the series itself has moved on a couple since. "White Grape, Mandarin Orange, Passion Fruit" yells the can in all-caps, presumably in an attempt to influence what you taste before you taste it. It smells sweet and quite sticky, somewhere between Chewits and red vermouth. The flavour is much more interesting, however: lots of weedy dank and oily winter herbs like rosemary and sage, plus a dollop of the same creamy coconut so dominant in the last one. Since it's not the freshest, it's possible the subtler fruit aromas and flavours have disintegrated, but what's left is still a perfectly drinkable American IPA.

Life moves pretty fast, and we skip 15 to reach Luponic Distortion No. 16, a mere three months in the can when I opened it. The silly fruit thing seems to have gone by-the-by and there's a more serious bitter resin quality here, leaning in to savoury courgette, ripe red apple and a sharp finish of wax and match heads. This is a taciturn, chin-stroker of an IPA, the sort they don't make much these days. More than the matured examples I had before, I would believe that this has had the aroma and foretaste subtleties aged out of it, but that can't be true -- it's relatively fresh but I guess just less interesting and less enjoyable. Nowt wrong with it, and if you're a haze-hater you should buy all you see, but I was underwhelmed.

Still, the great thing about numerical series is that there'll be another one along in a minute.

Two out of three

It's a pair of IPAs from Third Barrel today, both released under the brewery's eponymous brand.

A new Pilot Series begins (obviously) with 01, a Thai Inspired IPA. The hell does that mean? Well, it's a dense dark orange colour, hopped with Sabro, and Thai'd up using lemongrass and chillis. Sabro's pithy, plasticky brand of bitterness dominates the aroma: like Sorachi Ace, it's a loud hop, and not for everyone. The texture is soft and thick, reflecting the substantial 7.3% ABV. The flavour? Sabro again, though balanced -- the acidity offset by the big malt, resulting in a more gentle mix of grapefruit and jaffa flesh. I suspect the lemongrass gets lost in this: another citrus-analogue will always struggle to make itself heard. I thought the chilli was a bust until the very end where there's a little pinch in the back of the throat accompanied by a green-tasting chilli seed spice. It's an understated experiment. I think they could have ramped the chilli up more, but I have form in that area. Novelty aside, this is a great example of what Sabro does in a heavy, satisfying IPA.

The other beer is a more mainstream IPA: 7% ABV and hopped with Idaho 7, BRU-1 and El Dorado. Eye Candy is moderately hazy but not full-on opaque. Although it smells a little of fruity chews, I don't think it's aiming to be New England style. The flavour goes to bitterness first: classically west-coast grapefruit and lime with a sprinkling of fried onions and some resinous dank. The tropical candy pops up at the end, as does some unwelcome fuzz from the haze. The hefty body means it just misses out on being refreshing. This is OK, but not Third Barrel's best work. I think I'd prefer if this IPA picked a side, going all-out bitter or cranking up the vanilla. I just want to feel something!

It's enjoyable to watch a brewery playing in the IPA space, and I hope we'll see more from the Pilot Series in that line. Looks like they're taking us to the west coast properly next.

A lager renaissance?

The Irish breweries have been busy as we head into winter. There is much local content in the backlog and in the fridge, but first a random smattering from an assortment of producers, including four -- count 'em! -- lagers.

Third in the Eight Degrees Irish Munro's Series is called The Pilgrim's Path. They've dubbed it an "Italian Pilsner" making it their own take on Birrificio Italiano's Tipopils, and I think the first from an Irish brewery. Loral is the signature hop, according to the blurb. It looks good: an almost perfect clear pale yellow, though the head retention isn't great. A freshly citrus aroma suggests lemon drizzle cake and Jif-sprayed pancakes. Sure enough, spritzy lemon is the headline act here. It shades a little to washing up liquid but not severely. There are sideshows of American pine and Germanic spinach as well as heavy, greasy resins. It manages to stay clean and crisp, however. Latin affectations aside, this is a straight-up dry and hoppy pilsner, and I'm very much here for this sort of thing.

Lager number two is Heidrun, a bock from White Hag. Any Germanic credibility dies with the head which disappeared as soon as my back was turned. The beer beneath where it used to be is a handsome chestnut red and largely transparent. The aroma is roasty and autumnal, hinting at green Germanic hops and toasted rye bread. Wholesome and comforting. There's an extra dimension on tasting, a cherry and chocolate flavour that brings a surprising but welcome seam of Black Forest gateau. The nuts and toast sit behind this, with a little green-leaf cabbage, and it's all set on a lovely chewy base. It's almost a superb example of a dark bock but is let down by that lack of carbonation. It feels lifeless, and I think those flavours would be even brighter and more fun with extra carbonation pushing them out. A good hustle, but not really beating the Germans at their own game.

I'm late to the latest from Dundalk Bay. Haus Party has been around since last winter and is a pilsner of 4.9% ABV. It's quite murky for the style, a soupy ochre colour with a loose head which didn't last long. Vegetal noble hops are present and correct in the aroma, though there's a disturbing solventy kick as well. It's plenty bitter, the foretaste a powerful blend of spinach and candlewax. A crisp grain crunch follows later, and then a building syrupy sweetness. The two sides don't meld very well; the contrast is severe and it jangles. The beer is certainly boldly flavoured, which I value in a pilsner, but I don't think this particular one suits me.

The people who brought you I Will Yeah and Go On So present: Ah Sure Lookit…, a rebrew of the St Mel's Spring Bock from the early days and one I was very happy to see again. It's still 5.6% ABV, a deep shade of amber, and though it poured clear to begin there was a bit of sediment in the can clouding it up at the end. Be careful with this. There's a lovely Ryvita crispness as well as a heavy texture, making it both dry and rich, which must be quite difficult to do. The hops are an afterthought, bringing just enough of a grassy bitterness to keep the malt in check. Its finish is mostly clean, but I detected a little bit of yeasty fuzz from the lees. As I said: pour carefully. Otherwise, this is a classically constructed heller bock, and one of the gentler, more accessible sorts. I would like to see more Irish breweries trying their hand at these, which is to say I'd like to see more Irish people buying them.

My Hoegaarden bucket has been getting a lot of action recently with yet another new witbier needing appropriate glassware. I'm Too Old For This Wit is from YellowBelly in collaboration with Heaney, and the weirdo collab ingredient is rosemary. Nothing too outré there, nor with the ABV at 5.5%. Full marks for head retention here: the white fluff lasting pretty much the whole way down. I loved the mellow sweet and oily effect the rosemary brought to the aroma, like stepping into an empty church just after the pews have been polished. That becomes a little more extreme on tasting, the oils thick enough to scorch the palate but a bittersweet marmalade tempers it, as does the soft wheat beer behind it. This is a fun and boldly flavoured twist on the style, and one which deserves considered sipping more than sunny-day chugging. 

Galway Hooker has also taken a Belgian turn for the third in their Seafarer Series of fruit beers (I'm not sure if the series is specifically of fruit beers, but they've all had fruit so far). Berry is a saison with added blueberry and raspberry. That has given it a distinct pinkish tone, to both the body and head. It smells lovely: dry and peppery, just how I like saison, with a subtle raspberry and banana note in the background. Unsurprisingly, the fruit jumps to the front on tasting, and the banana in particular, giving it weissbier vibes. As usual, I couldn't identify any blueberry but the raspberry is there, and relatively restrained. This is far from a syrupy mess and still tastes like a saison, albeit one of the more fruity, estery sort. While no masterpiece, it's decent, sunny-day fun.

A third Belgian-style beer? It has to be Mescan, with that rare bird, an Irish tripel. The Mayo brewery's Seven Virtues series has been progressing slowly, with the first two landing in February 2019, and now here's the third: Carnal Knowledge (a well-known virtue). 7.1% ABV is barely acceptable for a tripel, but it's the appropriate hazy orange colour, and definitely smells the part, all spicy and warm. That heat, impressive given the strength, is the principal and best feature. Disappointingly, the spices don't really come through to the taste so you're left with a flavour of shredless marmalade on wholegrain toast but nothing more complex than that. Still, facing into a winter of drinking beers at home, this will be a sturdy companion.

A day after I posted my last DOT catch-up, they dropped another new one, exclusive to Stephen Street News. What could you call a foreign extra stout brewed for a newsagent except Extra Extra? It's very extra indeed at 8.95% ABV, having been aged in ex-rum and ex-rum-ex-whiskey barrels. That rum past really shows in its rum character: a sweet rum-and-raisin ice cream sensation that completely pervades it, making a very grown-up beer out of lovely kiddie flavours. You can keep your Supersplit IPAs. Additional complexity arrives after it warms a little: bourbon biscuit, dark chocolate and espresso. There's a lot of booziness with that, though the texture is quite light given the strength. On the one hand the novelty flavour doesn't render it cloying, but it's also missing a comforting, filling, warming quality which should always be part of the brief for a strong stout. This offers too much of an impression of barrel aged imperial stout, while not being one, and priced like one at €6 a can. Still tasty though.

"But what about the hazy IPA?" you cry. Fear not, O Brother has us covered, as always, with Love Hurts "oat cream IPA", brewed with Strata and El Dorado, and oats and lactose. It's on the paler, more translucent, side of hazy, and smells as milshakey as the ingredients imply. The flavour brings a powerful blend of old-style hop resins and more contemporary dessert-trolley fruit. The cream effect of the lactose is very apparent. But there's a lightness of touch despite 6.2% ABV that makes it very approachable, even refreshing. The bittering also is just enough to contribute to balance without disturbing the tinned pineapple or Bob-Marley-gig parts. I think the brewers have let the hops do the main heavy lifting here and it's a better beer for that. Strata and El Dorado is a combination to keep in mind. You can decide yourself what to do with the lactose.

Not an IPA, but a pale ale: No Road Trip is the latest in the series of commissions from McHugh's off licence, this one from their nearest brewery, Hope. Yes it's hazy, but not yellow, presenting instead a deep shade of orange. There's a lovely aroma of fresh tropical juice: passionfruit in particular, with side orders of mango and pineapple. Its flavour is a little closer to home, bringing mandarins and orangeade. This is done, the can tells us, with Azacca, Citra, Strata and Cashmere. It really should be the the definitive evidence in the case against putting fruit in pale ale: they taste fruitier if you just use the right hops the right way. At only 4.8% ABV it's refreshing and quaffable too, the spritz of carbonation adding to the fizzy-drink effect.

I performed the necessary incantations and chalked out a protective circle before opening the new one from Western Herd. This brewery has a tendency to overpower me with hop intensity, and Forge IPA uses arcane varieties Olicana and Harlequin, doubtless plucked from the non-euclidean hop fields of dread Yuggoth. It looks nice: a cheery fuzzy orangeade colour with a persistent head. The aroma doesn't give much away, just a vague lychee-and-diesel effect. My palate did not fold into a distant and eldritch dimension on tasting. It's quite nice. There's a fun strawberry and kiwi foretaste, moving on to a more serious incense resin with a smatter of pineapple, red apple and mandarin fruit salad. 7% ABV gives all of this a certain intensity, but it's not extreme. I enjoyed how different it is. The hop combination offers nothing I've tasted before, but in a good way. Genuinely innovative IPA is a rarity, but here's one of them. Buy a can and prepare to have your horizons broadened but there's no need to be afraid.

I have a couple of non-hazy IPAs for you this time too. We begin at session-level with Tokyo Calling by Rascals, one they have flavoured with yuzu and lychee. It's a bright and pale golden colour and smells tropical in a way I would believe is entirely hop-derived. Likewise the flavour: melon and mango softness with a peppery spicing in place of bitterness. I would guess a lot of Mosaic was involved. There's an unusual edge of lemonade or lurid yellow chew sweets which may be the fruit additions kicking in, but overall it's well integrated and devoid of jarring novelties. 4.5% ABV means it's light enough to quaff heartily but there's no wateriness or thinness. This is a bang-up job and I hope the seekers after syrupy fruit silliness aren't too put out.

Lineman has tried its hand at a double IPA and I can't express how much of a delight it was to pour it and find it pretty much clear. Not that Amplify is weak or wan: this is a full 8% ABV, weightily textured and smells of all the pith and resin you could want. The whole thing coalesces in flavour to a smooth and fruity combination of serious jaffa and grapefruit softened by mango and pineapple with a hint of chocolate around the edges. While it's mostly a classic west-coast take on late-noughties American DIPA, it doesn't chase the IBU numbers and there's a subtlety that brings (honestly!) English bitter to mind. The soft and fluffy carbonation might be contributing to a cask effect, as well as the banging-fresh hops. However you pick it apart, this is another Lineman classic: complex, rounded, interesting, and a reminder of a world in which double IPAs were more polite.

Wicklow Wolf have another sequence on the go, with their no-nonsense oatmeal stout Apex getting nonsensified with beans during the summer and now they've candied it further, making Apex S'mores, with marshmallow and chocolate. So it's going to be sweet yeah? It is sweet. The aroma really does smell like s'mores, and if you've never had the pleasure, that's a sticky mess of burnt marshmallow and runny low-grade milk chocolate sandwiched in crackers. It's one of the myriad confections that Americans insist are good but objectively aren't. Liquefying it and putting it in a glass does at least make it easier to manage. On tasting, there's still a trace of hop bitterness from the underlying stout but you get a big heaping helping of chocolate candy on top of that. Pink fluffy mallow? Check. There's even a slight dry burnt note to represent the whole thing catching fire and sloughing off the stick while everyone laughs at you. In short, I have a history with s'mores, and it's not a good one, and this beer brought it back. So full points for accuracy of gimmick. You need to like your stouts thick and sweet to enjoy this, however. Apex Tiramisu is on the way next. Lord help us.

Back to Lineman for today's finisher: Gigantic, an imperial stout living up to its name at 10.4% ABV. It's a beast all right, and not easy going. There's a lot of burntness in the roast, and a slight beefy quality, so it's no smooth dessert. There's a considerable hop bitterness which is at least fitting for an imperial stout. Also on the plus side: coffee liqueur, cigars and very dark chocolate. Lineman's whole thing is eschewing fashion and making grown-up beers for adults. This is very much in that milieu, though you need to be tolerant not just of a lack of s'mores, but a fair whack of astringency as well. This might lose a few points in a to-style competition but I liked what it offers, and it offers a lot. No pastry meant I was able to finish the can without assistance too.

This is a diverse bunch, with rarely a misstep to be found. Is the relative dearth of murky hop-saturated IPAs a factor in that? I couldn't possibly say.

Dampf squibs

"The young folk are all into that 'steam punk' thing these days, right?"
"Sir, I don't think..."
"Yeah, make it steam punk. Make it very steam punk."

And so, Lidl presents the Steam Brew range of beers, created by their go-to German macro Eichbaum, the cans plastered with cringey cartoonish graphics. I actually laughed when I noticed the words "German Craft Beer Resistance" in block capitals. It's no sillier than what BrewDog comes out with, but it being Eichbaum adds that extra Yer Da element.

I have two from the range for you today. There are a couple more but I haven't seen them in the flesh so they'll have to wait. Steam Brew Imperial IPA is the weaker of this pair by a hair's breadth at 7.8% ABV. It looks like a first-generation American double IPA, being a rich hazy orange colour. The aroma offers little -- crisp lagery malts and no more than pinch of citrus. Shouldn't it be roaring with hops and booze? The lager thing sticks in my head on tasting it. It's clean and smooth, though as boozy as you'd expect, reminding me more than anything of a strong pale bock. As in the aroma, the hops are present but muted; a tangy sort of satsuma bitterness that doesn't really show up until late on. The aftertaste is sharp and metallic: seriously Teutonic rather than anything new-world. It's not a bad beer. I like the satisfying heat and heft, and how clean it managed to keep things. If you were after an American hop explosion, however, you will be disappointed.

Stepping up to 7.9% ABV and turning darker, let's see if Steam Brew German Red is any more exciting. It's barely red, for starters: more a deep brown. Again, malt is the main focus of the aroma, this time with a little extra toast. Unsurprisingly, caramel is the predominant flavour, with a slightly unpleasant sweaty tang in the finish. Letting it warm, I get a little jammy strawberry, some chocolate and a smattering of headachey esters, lending it an almost Belgian-brown vibe. It's still pretty clean, though, and quite inoffensive. Hurrah, I guess.

Reviews for these have been quite excoriating, and I think undeservedly so. Perhaps beer aficionados have been judging them at face value, like there really would be top-end American-style strong beer on sale in Lidl for pocket change. That's not going to happen. I found these quite decent and even enjoyable. Eichbaum's expertise in making beers clean and accessible, even at a high strength, really shines through. Adjust your expectations accordingly and you'll have a fine time.