The Twelve Brewers of Christmas 3: Larkin's

To say the anticipation around the next in the Larkin's single hop series was eager is an understatement. Two fine varieties get the treatment for this round.

The first is Galaxy, a sometime favourite hop of mine, though one I've found performing poorly in a single-hop situation in the past. Here's it's pretty good. The sweetness is quite intense and the texture soft -- the can notes that the brewery has switched to their house yeast, and I'm guessing that's something in the New England line. I get a mix of pulpy tropical fruits: guava, pineapple and mango, concentrated enough to seem like a syrup or cordial. A balancing squeeze of lemon-and-lime bitterness offsets it nicely, and there's a spicy, grassy dankness in the finish. This is hella complex for a single hop beer, though it also amplifies Galaxy's essential juicy orange qualities well. The chewiness does make for some slow drinking, but it's one to take your time with anyway.

Next up is the always-controversial Sabro. I'm in the pro camp, and at least the anti-Sabro lobby gets fair warning on the front of the can. Like the Galaxy it's a hazy dark orange colour. The aroma isn't as knock-you-down coconut as I'd expect from this hop, and it's surprisingly subtle in the flavour. It's definitely there, however, this one also seasoned with a clean citrus aftertaste. The pithy side of the Sabro arrives late and helps with the balance. This is fun, and much easier drinking than the Galaxy. I would even recommend it to Sabro sceptics as an example of how the hop can be used in a less extreme way. It's not what I expected, but I enjoyed it immensely.

The series continues to provide surprises from hops I thought I knew. More please.

It was nice to get a dark beer as the coda to this post: Not My Gumdrop Buttons! is a brown ale with, obviously, ginger and cinnamon. At 6.5% ABV it's no lightweight, and pours a beautiful clear dark garnet shade. Fresh and wholesome ginger forms the aroma, like the classier sort of artisan ginger ale mixer. That becomes candied ginger on tasting, and it's quite assertive. There's little room for the brown ale side to come through. I went looking, but couldn't find the caramel or coffee I wanted. On the other hand, the cinnamon hasn't totally ruined it the way cinnamon can sometimes do. You're promised a gingerbread beer and that's pretty much what you get: gingery; a little cakey as it warms, but not much else. While I'm not thrilled, I can't complain. Brown ale is probably as good a base for something like this as anything else.

This selection is a good example of how Larkin's likes to mix up the serious and the playful. It's a healthy sign in any brewery, I think.