Tampa tantrum

The beers from Cigar City have been packing the off licences of late. It has taken me a while to catch up with what's available but here's what's in the mix so far.

We start with a brand extension since that seems very much in vogue among the American breweries we get over here. Jai Low is a session-strength variant of the Cigar City flagship Jai Alai. It's an even 4% ABV and a clear amber-gold, though worryingly short of head. Jai Alai's iconic punchy bitterness is well represented: right from the start it's pithy and waxy. In something of this strength, that tends to be a recipe for harsh thinness, but this is nicely full-bodied and provides sufficient malt balance for those hyperactive hops. I've had a few of these American 4%-ers and this is the first not to taste compromised. I was sceptical about the Jai Alai associations, but it's worthy of the tie.

Margarita Gose immediately caught my eye. I like a gose and I like a margarita. It's meant to be a bright summer drinker, at just 4.2% ABV, and I caught it just before winter closed in fully. It looked a bit sad in the glass, to be honest: a hazy shade of dull orange with the head disappearing in the first couple of minutes. Salt and herbs is the first hit I got from a huff of the aroma, then the promise of tangy, oily, limes. It's surprisingly flat, with only the merest tingle of carbonation. Combined with a light texture, that made it seem a little lifeless. There's the briny tang and a smidge of citrus bitterness in the flavour, but that's all you really get. I was afraid this would be a cloying alcopop combination, and it's not, it's a real beer, but I found it less engaging than I expected. Refreshing, sure, but sailing close to the point where that means bland.

"Ale brewed with orange lime and salt" is the strapline for After Sesh, and I wonder if it was designed as a gose too, but they couldn't bring themselves to call it that. It's also orange in colour, and the head is lasting this time. 4.5% means just a slight increase in ABV. The aroma doesn't have much to say, other than a mild waft of oily oranges. The mouthfeel is decently thick, much more so than the previous, and I can taste the malt. I can just about taste the hops, but nothing that says real orange or salt. This is another very plain affair, inoffensive and quaffable like many an Irish red ale or English red-brown bitter, especially in their fizzy canned forms. I would expect to get this from a discount supermarket in a brightly-coloured can from an unspecified brewery. It tastes a bit cheap and definitely doesn't deliver on the promise of the description.

We move on to a "Citra Pale Ale" next: Guayabera. Funny how that hop in particular tends to get this special billing. This is a deep orange colour and 5.5% ABV. The aroma certainly says Citra: fresh and zesty lime. The mouthfeel is nicely full and this provides ample legroom for the flavour hops. Zesty again, not skimping on the bitterness, but showing a certain nuance as well: it's a pie or a pastry rather than a mean raw lime. This effect is heightened by the malt base which adds a hint of toffee to the background, a little like the American pale ales of yore. A hint of green onion is the only bum note I found, and it's well concealed by the bittering. While not socks-knocked-off amazing, this is well put together: punchy yet approachable, and enjoyable throughout.

"Belgian-Style White Ale" is a peculiarly awkward American construction. Is it a Blue Moon thing? Cigar City's is called Florida Cracker and is 5.5% ABV. It's surprisingly clear, but that's OK, and the fluffy white head is pleasingly persistent. The aroma is quite herbal: I got sage and cardamom although plain old coriander and orange peel is all that's listed. Shows what I know. It's very dry to begin with, all crunchy grain and citronella oil. From there there's a more nuanced lemon candy and more of that wintery resinous herb I found in the aroma. And that's it. Overall this is quite a severe sort of witbier, and maybe it's the filtration that has removed the usual smooth and fluffy edges. While not bad, I don't really see the point of it -- Cigar City aren't bringing any worthwhile innovations to the style with this.

From cod-Belgium to ersatz-England: would they do any better with a brown ale? Maduro is also 5.5% ABV and a lovely clear garnet colour. The aroma doesn't have much to say. The flavour... is understated, in a good way. It's not bland, and definitely not thin, but it takes a moment for the taste to unfold properly. Burnt caramel is first through, followed swiftly by bitter liquorice, milk chocolate, very black tea, and sticky molasses. A truly great brown ale would have a dusting of meadow flowers on top, but this doesn't, not venturing far from the standard roasted-malt profile, and that's fine by me. You can sip this, explore it, analyse it, but it works just as well as a relaxing wintertime drinking beer. It tastes authentically English to me, and we don't get many like this in these parts. I award it extra points for bringing something a bit different to the scene.

Full-strength IPA is inevitable, of course, and here we have the 6.5% ABV Fancy Papers, a (slightly) hazy example. It smells perfumed rather than juicy, and there's a hint of the hop-studded toffee that I associate with American IPAs of the old school. The flavour is more tropical, but in quite a cloying, fruit-concentrate way. I get pineapple and coconut, intensely so, like some sort of pre-mixed piña colada. It's not exactly unpleasant, but it's very strange: far from an old-fashioned bitter IPA but definitely not anything like the modern sweet sort. I guess it's its own thing, then, and fair play to it. Luckily there's just enough of a candied-lemon bitterness to make it palatable, and a dry note of acidity on the finish to prevent the alcopop taste turning cloying. I can imagine sipping this while gazing across the azure waters of the Gulf of Mexico, which is probably all any Cigar City beer is meant to do. Job done.

"unpredictable... nearly criminal... world's worst superhero": weird way to show local pride, there, CC. Here's Florida Man, a double IPA of 8.5% ABV to round out this selection. It's another translucent pale orange fellow. The aroma is juicy but on the cusp of resinous -- I don't know if mandarin oil is a thing, but if it is it probably smells like this. That juiciness combines with the big malt to create a pleasing tangerine sweetness. There's a suggestion of caramel or milk chocolate but really the hops are in charge, as they should be. And despite 80 purported IBUs that hopping is gentle, subtle even, bringing the flavour without any overdone bittering. Nor is it boozy or difficult to drink, squeaking into the double IPA style category to my palate, but only just. As an old man of simple tastes it suited me perfectly; anyone looking for something as supposedly crazy as its namesake might feel let down.

Once upon a time, Cigar City was one of the American breweries spoken of in hushed tones this side of the Atlantic. I don't know whether they switched to more middle-of-the-road offerings since, or if the market caught up with them. Either way, I was a little surprised by how few big wows I got here. I'd buy that brown ale again, mind.