31 December 2021

Back slaps and barley wine

My reflections on 2021-that-was are dogged by the question of whether this was Another Weird Year or the beginning of The New Normal. Regardless, I am sticking doggedly to the old categories laid out by Mark and Andy 600 years ago, and will endeavour to fill each one, however meaninglessly. If you're looking for relevance and insight you are very much on the wrong blog.

A tradition of my own dictates that the meandering musings be accompanied by a beer, and this year's was shipped to me by Eight Degrees as a kind gift. Irish Oak-Aged Barleywine is the fourth in their five-beer Original Gravity series. It's a beast of a thing at 12.2% ABV and one noteworthy aspect is its use of Irish oak for the ageing, something we also saw from Wicklow Wolf's autumn Locavore barley wine last month. In the glass it's a pleasing russet shade and has a gorgeous vinous aroma, all Madeira, Tokaji and similarly sweet, luscious styles. Though it poured thickly, the texture is light on the palate, and only the heady alcohol vapours give the drinker pause; a reminder that this is very much a sipping job. The flavour opens with a sharp pinch of wood, sappy and resinous, before smoothing out into the sweet wine detected in the aroma. This would run the risk of turning cloying were the texture thicker, though there's also a certain balancing bitterness from Nugget and Cascade hops. The specs tell us they're working at a massive 82 IBUs though only just making themselves heard. I think I enjoyed the base beer a lot more than the barrel effects. An additional can will be aged to see if that sappiness fades eventually. Overall, though, this is an excellent relaxing beer for a winter's afternoon. Not that I get to do any relaxation, as I move on to...

The Golden Pint Awards 2021

Best Irish Cask Beer: BRÚ Brown Ale
There's always at least one winner-by-default in these, and they're starting early this year. The pub situation being what it was, this is the only Irish cask beer I drank in 2021. Still, it wouldn't get an award if I hadn't enjoyed it so BRÚ is fully deserving of the accolade.

Best Irish Keg Beer: Four Provinces Gob Fliuch
A year after its launch in cans, the Four Provinces mild arrived at the brewery pub on draught for the first time, albeit only for takeaway pints, initially. During the summer it became my Friday evening ritual and one of the highlights of the week. This is still a magnificent beer, and that it's comfortingly familiar and brewed on my doorstep is also in its favour.

Best Irish Bottled Beer: Land & Labour Lúnaberry
I mentioned last year that this has become the true prestige category of the GPAs. Bottles are for the special stuff. There were several candidates but when I took stock of my memories of each, the blueberry lambic-a-like from Land & Labour was the one which left the strongest lasting impression of excellence. It's L&L's first appearance in this category but from what I've tasted in 2021 I'm reasonably sure there will be more in future.

Best Irish Canned Beer: Western Herd Flora & Fauna
It was April when this one made me think "that's a Golden Pints winner right there". I have since run the due diligence; there were quite a number of candidates for this award, and an extremely honorable mention must go to Brewmaster Imperial Nitro Stout, but I think Flora & Fauna holds up as the greatest achievement of the canned arts on this island in 2021. I knew nothing about it when I drank it, but in the gap between me drinking it and publishing a review one month later, the plaudits were already pouring in. The apotheosis of the West Coast revival, this brought me back to a time when big and punchy American hops on a clean malt base, served brewery-fresh, was the most perfect thing ever produced for humans to drink.

Best Overseas Draught Beer: De la Senne Zenne Pils
Another category awarded based on the feel of the memory rather than any detailed analysis of the field. I was surprised to find a pils by the pint on my visit to Brasserie de la Senne but utterly thrilled by what I was given. I saw little sign of this becoming a ubiquitous flagship around Brussels but it absolutely deserves to be one.

Best Overseas Bottled Beer: Cantillon Carignan
Yeah, my holidays were largely in Brussels this year, at a time where there was some slight semblance of old-normality about the place. So I drank large bottles of fruited geuze in the Cantillon brewery bar, and they were absolutely delicious, and the Carignan grape one was my favourite of those. Were I giving out silver and bronze medals, other beers from the same session would likely feature, but that would be boring.

Best Overseas Canned Beer: Sierra Nevada Big Little Thing
Now this was a surprise. Nothing jumped out immediately for the category so I had to do some digging to find candidates. And even though I haven't been fully on board with Sierra Nevada's sequence of Hazy Little Thing brand extensions, it turns out I sang the praises of this one. I don't remember now exactly how it tasted so it's just as well it's still in circulation. I will be giving it another go.

Best Collaboration Brew: Galway Bay / Stu Mostów Boulevardier
This was such a close contender for best Irish bottled beer that I'm delighted to find a different rosette to pin on it. My cynicism over beers designed to taste like cocktails was completely washed away by this one. It's all beer, and a masterclass in complexity and balance, even when bourbon barrels and double-digit ABVs are involved.

Best Overall Beer: Western Herd Flora & Fauna
Like I say, it's a classic; a beer for the ages. I wouldn't dream of using this award as a means of bribing the brewery into keeping it in production, but if that should occur, I won't have any particular objection.

Best Branding
: Metalman
The 2010 Golden Pints saw brand new brewer Metalman take an award for their art deco logo before it had even released any beer. The brand got an overhaul this year, moving from the 1920s to the 1950s with the classic science-fiction look of its Galactic Voyager series. It's colourful and dynamic, all action and excitement while still classic and charmingly retro. Since the first ones appeared in the spring I always look forward to seeing each new version.

Best Pump Clip: Flow
Table service has really done a number on the tap badge as a marketing tool. Admiring the array of artwork while my pint is being poured seems like something from a bygone age. I feared I might have to skip this award, except... I really like the goofy wolf logo used by the Wolf foodhall in Brussels. You see him a lot in there and he is used on the mini blackboards attached to the taps of the onsite Flow brewery. I therefore deem him a pump clip, and my favourite of the year. Good boy.

Best Bottle/Can Label: Whiplash The Horror
More than any Irish brewery, Whiplash puts High Art on its cans. Just occasionally, however, Sophie the artist gives us something playful and silly, which is when I tend to take notice. So it is with the wide-eyed Charlie Sheen, captured in a particularly daft bit of that very daft war film. Go get 'im, Chuck!



Best Irish Brewery: Lineman
I say this almost every time I review one of their beers, but Lineman really has a bead on how to make classic beer styles, and they've turned out a particularly pleasing high number of those during 2021. Quality and variety done locally is how this award usually goes, and this year Lineman was a level above.

Best Overseas BreweryBrussels Beer Project
I came home from Brussels very impressed at how the local brewing scene has expanded in recent years, and how the city really seems to be taking it to its heart. I drank and enjoyed quite a few beers from The Big Two, and I'm sure there are those who think I've picked the wrong one here: unlike De la Senne, BBP has not yet made the move to being a fully in-Brussels brewery. But it's coming, as is their all-new lambic brewery, so I have no qualms about giving them this award, though the quality of the many beers released under their name is phenomenal too.

Best New Brewery Opening 2021: Farrington's
Pickings were slim in this category, but there is definitely promise in what I've tasted from the new brewery in Kildare, so they get the gong.

Pub/Bar of the Year: DeRat
I didn't spend much time in pubs this year. It has simply stopped being the fun it used to be, and Dublin lacking a beer bar with serious variety and turnover means there's not much to attract me and my notebook out. Calling in for one beer on a dismal evening in October was enough to secure this prize for DeRat in Utrecht. It was busy but not crowded, highly convivial and with a fantastic selection. For half an hour I had a glimpse back to how pubs used to be. Should it ever come back, I will not be taking that for granted.

Best New Pub/Bar Opening 2021The Beer Temple
There's only one serious contender in this category: the takeover of this grand prime location on the corner of Dame Street and Parliament Street by the newly combined Galway Bay and BRÚ breweries. They had a short run at normality during November, and I enjoyed my visits. I look forward to making more of it in the months, and years, to come.

Beer Festival of the YearPINT Jubileum
Another default winner. The bijou little festival at Bierbrouwerij Mommeriete in Gramsbergen to celebrate PINT's birthday was my only beer festival of 2021. I did enjoy it, though.

Supermarket of the Year: SuperValu Sundrive
This shop goes through phases of being good at beer and is currently on something of an upswing. On more than one occasion this year I found beers on the shelves which had not yet made their way to the independent off licences. This award is dedicated to whomever it is who keeps saying "Yes" when the Grand Cru van opens its doors.

Independent Retailer of the Year: Craft Central
My time in the city centre has been limited all year, so when I'm looking to pick up beers, efficiency is important. Craft Central / Stephen Street News hasn't quite been a one-stop-shop for me, but it's the next best thing. I have availed of browsing the fridges, click-and-collect and home delivery, and it all just works.

Online Retailer of the Year: Yards & Crafts
February saw Brickyard in Dundrum pivot to becoming an online off licence as well. I've only used them a few times, but it's always been because they have something in stock that I can't find anywhere else. That's the service I need most from an online operation and what makes this one stand out for me.

Best Beer Book or MagazineBeeronomics: How Beer Explains the World by Johan Swinnen & Devin Briski
I've had this book since 2018 but for whatever reason never made the time to read it. This year I did, and really enjoyed it. The writers are economists, so take the working of the market as the starting point of their examination of beer and brewing through history, from the church's taxes on medieval gruit, through to the grand consolidation which resulted in AB InBev vs. everybody else. The chapter on how TV advertising was responsible for the death of local American beer brands is particularly enlightening -- it's nice that there are still new stories to tell from 20th century beer history.

Best Beer Blog or WebsiteBoak & Bailey
Our little community of beer commentariat is getting littler, but Jess and Ray are doing steadfast work to keep it together and, where possible, expand it so it's not the same old voices. Their Saturday morning round-ups are essential reading, and they even find the time for the occasional blog post (and beer reviews!) among the newsletter, Patreon and social media material. Being the Head Girl and Head Boy of Beer Blogging College can be a thankless task, so this is just to say thanks, it is appreciated.

Simon Johnson Award for Best Beer Twitterer: @Nickiquote
This reformed beer blogger rarely mentions the stuff any more but there's plenty of good (better) content besides: art, music, dry wit and a rich seam of quality retweets. Nick has kept me amused and entertained all year.

Best Brewery Website/Social media: Whiplash
Two in a row for the Dublin brewery. In my citation last year I complained that they were a little too Instagrammy for my liking, but it's all on Twitter where I can see it now: lots of detail on the many new releases and re-releases over the year, plus of course the iconic artwork. Questions get answered too, which should be taken for granted but not every brewery on social media does it. Well played to all the humans behind the Whiplash accounts. 


Is that enough? I think that's enough. On the cusp of this blog's 18th year it only remains for me to say thanks to you, the reader, for keeping my hit counter ticking over. Have a safe and happy New Year, and I'll be back with the first of 2022's posts on Monday.

30 December 2021

Dark times

The depths of winter are still showing little sign of getting shallower so I guess it's time for another assortment of dark and strong beers. Luckily there are plenty around.

Hope starts us off today, with a very rare style for an Irish brewery: old ale. Castanha Old Ale is named for the aromatic Brazilian wood on which it was matured. They've also followed the trend of breweries using old bread as part of the grist, going full craft with "artisan sourdough breadcrumbs", as well as some black treacle for good measure. The end result is 6.3% ABV and what I deem to be an appropriate dark garnet colour. I don't detect anything strong or exotic in the aroma, but there's some very pleasant caramel and roast. That slight burntness is there in the foretaste but then unfolds into something sweeter, with milk chocolate and clove-like winter spicing which I'm guessing is the Castanha. I get a sappy resinous bitterness too, towards the end. Given the strength I would like this to be richer. It doesn't quite do the rounded warming thing I wanted from it. It is to-style, however, and perfectly tasty. I'd be quite happy if Hope had another go at old ale, with a simplified recipe.

From old ale to brown ale and the final Rye River special of 2021: Revelation. This is more ruby than brown, but attractively so, enhanced by a pillowy soft off-white head. The aroma has a definite whiff of bananas with its caramel, making me think of dunkelweisse more than any other style. It smells a bit hot too, all of its 7.1% ABV and more. There's a definite estery quality to the flavour as well. I complained the last one wasn't warm enough, well this has warmth in spades. I don't know that it's necessarily the good kind, though. Turning to the brewery's description I see that it's brewed with a Belgian yeast, so that at least explains the esters. But they also set the drinker up for a "revelatory brown malt experience" and I don't get that at all. I adore brown malt's clean and fresh coffee roast character and this beer gives me none of that. If they wanted the malt to shine they should have used a more neutral yeast. As-is, it's OK, I guess. My initial impression of dunkelweisse hadn't left me by the end, and I would accept dubbel as a possible style designation too, but as a fan of Rye River's other brown ale, Dec's, and of brown malt in general, this didn't do it for me.

Enough messing about, out with the stout. Cave 'n' Castle is from BRÚ in collaboration with Italian brewery Lieviteria. There's nothing more exotic than oats in this 7.5%-er and it smells plainly roasty, with a little alcohol but mostly dry. The flavour too is uncomplex but in a quite delightful way. The oatmeal smoothness is present and correct, and you get a sprinkling of chocolate on your cereal but not too much. The dry side is more restrained than I thought it would be -- roast, but not roastiness in the coffee or hot tar sense, with a slightly glutinous feel preventing it from being sharp. Maybe a little more of a hop bite would have improved it, but that's entirely a matter of personal taste. This is a clean and precise stout, delivering fullness and warmth in a subtle way that's quite unfashionable, completely unlike the previous two, but my preferred one of the three. My only proper qualm is the serving size: for something this straightforwardly drinkable, 33cl at a time isn't enough. Otherwise, well played BRÚ and Lieviteria.

The big finish is another massive stout from Wicklow Wolf. Drumshanbo Distillery has contributed single pot still whiskey barrels for Curious Mind. I really like pot still whiskey and it takes a while to emerge but we get there eventually. Before, there's a lot of oak: a mix of cork and red wine, shading a little to rubber. It's unsubtle and not terribly pleasant, at first. Luckily it mellows out after a second or two. The sweet honeycomb of smooth Irish whiskey swings in to the rescue and it turns into a more regular barrel-aged imperial stout. There's chocolate truffles and oily coffee, and more than a drop of whiskey. The woody side doesn't disappear, but it brings a certain balance to all the sweetness. Subtle it ain't, but I like the boldness here. While perfectly decent now, I think a year or two of ageing would do it the power of good.

Dark beer and style diversity is all fine, but stout remains the daddy. And that's the end of my end-of-year fridge clear-out. Only one post for 2021 remains to be written...

29 December 2021

Untapped

I love brewpubs but when a  new one opens in Ireland I generally don't expect to be able to try their beer as they tend to be in out-of-the-way areas, reserved for the motoring classes. So it was with the Slieve Bloom brewery at the Slieve Bloom Inn in Kinnitty, Co. Offaly, brewing since 2018. But I guess it's because of the New Dispensation that they got the canners in and shipped at least some of those up to my neighbourhood. Hooray for the New Dispensation! I picked up two of their beers at the Mace on South Circular Road.

A red ale is first, called Pikeman, named for the locals who forged and wielded anachronistic and ineffective weapons in the 1798 rebellion. It's a warm, deep red colour, with a touch of murk to suggest it's a living beer rather than filtered and sterile. There's a slight sharpness to the aroma, berries and balsamic, but the flavour is more settled. It hits all of the good points of Irish red ale, including the dry-roast background, a cake and caramel malt base, and then top notes of summer fruit. The fade-out is dry and tannic, like a mug of hefty black tea. It's all done at 4.6% ABV which is modest for the complexity here. It doesn't pull any tricks or gimmicks but does deliver exactly what Irish red ale ought to, in an impressively assertive way. Though built for country-pub drinking, a can at home was perfectly enjoyable.

The second is called Rising Moon, a "berry IPA" at 5% ABV. The label tells us that blueberries are the ones in question. It's not blue, it's a medium amber. There's not much going on in the aroma, just a very vague pale-ale biscuits and citrus. The flavour isn't much more assertive: it begins on crisp lemon cookies, with an almost lager-like vibe. I waited for the blueberry but that failed to emerge. Instead, there's an unpleasant rubbery bitterness late on. I'm guessing this is down to the fruit addition, and if so it was a bad idea. This nearly works as an easy-going brewpub IPA, but that tang really spoils the simplicity. I'm not sure that blueberry IPA is a viable concept in the first place, but even if it is, this is not an example of it done well.

There's promise in the Slieve Bloom offerings, but I think they'll work best in the pub. Putting them in cans in specialist off licences pits them against other breweries who are playing the game on a different level.

28 December 2021

Hooray for the Protocol!

I can't really keep up with all the beers from all of the breweries in Northern Ireland, even the fraction of them that get sent down here. It causes me no end of guilt. So, as the year draws to a close, by way of apology, I picked one each from four of the busiest and gave them a spin.

Boundary is first, of course, being the one that turns out the new releases at the fastest pace. And though they definitely have a soft spot for hazy IPA, other styles do get a look in too, like today's pilsner: Sufficient Intimidation. "Crisp and refreshing" is the claim on the label but I'm not sure it manages it. Yes it's a light and pale lager of only 4.4% ABV but it's still thinner than this sort of thing should be. With that comes a sour lemony tang which is also out of place. Husky grain puts in an appearance in the finish, albeit not enough to qualify the beer as crisp. There's an amateur homebrewish quality to it, overall. I know Boundary are better than this, but maybe lager isn't their milieu.

A hazy IPA comes next, from Lacada, and is called Herring Pond. This 6.4%-er arrived about this time last year but took a while to find its way to these parts. I caught it 19 days before the best before. It's one of the orange hazy jobs but on the paler side of that spectrum, with some worryingly big clumps of grit at the bottom of the glass. According to the label I should be looking for Sabro, Citra and Mosaic and, as is its wont, Sabro takes the lead: yes, it smells of coconut. The flavour strikes an interesting balance between Sabro's jangling coconut and Mosaic's soft mango and lychee. Citra's citrus is AWOL, but good luck to it, I don't miss it. The overall effect here is not something I've encountered in other beers, even though the hops are all commonplace. It really harnesses their best features fantastically well (not you, Citra) while still giving the drinker all the peach and mandarin juicy goodness that makes hazy IPA semi-worthwhile. Nice job, Lacada.

Bring The Thunder is the macho name on a sour beer from Beer Hut, albeit one brewed with the girly-cosmetic flavourings raspberry, cherry and coconut. I was expecting something that tastes of lip balm. It is pink, in fairness, but there's plenty of sourness. It's clean and light-bodied too; none of your yoghurty thickness or cloying syrup. Coconut and raspberry aren't flavours I would put together naturally, but they're both very prominent in the aroma and they don't clash, creating a kind of old-fashioned confectionery effect. The raspberry comes first in the flavour, intensified by the punchy sour culture. Gradually, the acidity is replaced by oily coconut which forms a long-lasting finish. The cherry is the loser in all of this. I'm sure it's present, but gets utterly lost under two other kinds of tartness and a more assertive variety of red fruit. It's still a great beer, though, edging towards busyness and silliness but not doing either to an unpleasant degree. One was plenty, but it was fun.

The set tops out on 7% ABV with Heaney's Look! No Hands. We're predictably back on hazy IPA, this one a dark orange colour with a combination of Aussie hops: Ella and Vic Secret. It smells dank and savoury, of raw scallion and fried onion. On tasting it turns from vegetal to mineral, with a hard talc-like powdery dryness. This is set on a thick base making the whole thing chewy, rough and a bit of chore to get through. There's a certain fruit sweetness, albeit coming across like something tropical but fibrous. A little of the initial savoury allium side creeps in as it warms and flattens, which it'll do because it's impossible to drink quickly. I feel I didn't get sufficient reward for my efforts here.

I think that's a fair cross-section of what's going on up north; some gold, some not so much. It's a particularly welcome return to form for Lacada, while I know both Heaney and Boundary are capable of better.

27 December 2021

Sitting in, looking back

Had the viral situation not gone up the left, I might be in Berlin about now. But I'm not. Here instead are some beers from that part of the world that I drank on happier days some months back.

The brewery is Berlin-based BRLO so where better to start than with a Berliner weisse. Goosebumps is far from traditional, however, with an addition of gooseberries and some Azacca and Hallertau Blanc hops. It's a silvery yellow in the glass, hazy with a topping of fine white mousse. The flinty dryness of its sour culture is all the aroma brings us, while the texture is quite full for 4% ABV with a little hard-candy stickiness. I'm blaming that on the gooseberry syrup, though it doesn't taste like actual gooseberries, merely a pick-n-mix analogue of generic fruit. Azacca probably adds to that effect, though there's no sign of the juicy white grape I enjoy from Hallertau Blanc, nor is there any significant sourness. There's the dry graininess of mainstream Berliner weisse, but no sour bite to lift it. The stickiness means it's not even very refreshing. It's a poor effort, I think, going all out for daring novelty but without giving proper consideration to how it would all hold together. I would be a lot more forgiving of that if it only delivered some proper tartness with it.

So I wasn't hoping for much from the second Berliner weisse: Berlin Jam, not with a name like that. This one, also 4% ABV, poured like a smoothie, resulting in an opaque pink emulsion in the glass. The "wild berries" mentioned on the can are blackberry, blueberry, elderberry, redcurrant and blackcurrant -- a busy mix. The blackberry and blackcurrant are most obvious in the aroma though it's sweeter to taste, with the blueberry and elderberry loudest here. It's not completely sweet or jammy, but nor is there much sourness. Like the previous beer there's only a mild dryness at the centre, making something which should be a flavour bomb in one direction or another into a rather plain affair. I think I'd prefer if this were a sugary mess, and I hate sugary messes. Just let me feel something! I really thought BRLO would have done better in this space. Good thing they make other kinds of beer too.

Switching styles but staying sour, German and 4% ABV, next it's White Peach Gose. This has a beautifully soft texture but I think they've overdone the syrup a little. It's not actually sour, for one thing. The aroma has a genuine gose herbal quality but on tasting it's a concentrated peach nectar, sticky and quite cloying. A glance at the ingredients show that for some unfathomable reason they've included lactose as well. Why? The clean and quenching quality one comes to gose for is understandably absent. I mean, it tastes of white peach, so if that's your sole requirement then here's your beer. For me, it's too much of a candied concoction and a further damning indictment of lactose, should one be required.

"Gurkenpüree" is the magic ingredient on Cucumber Quench. I had to go to the internet to find out this is lager: presumably German labelling laws forbid them from calling it one directly. It doesn't even say it's a beer. It does look properly lager-like in the glass, yellow, foamy, and with a misting of kellerish haze. The aroma is crisp and the texture soft. Guessing blind I would likely have decided it's some sort of wheat ale. The cucumber concentrate is used judiciously and imparts only a mild, and pleasant, green tang; otherwise it's sweet and spongecakey, like a Helles. A noble hop bitterness which appears briefly in the finish is a nod to its base. At only 4.2% ABV it lives up to the "quench" part of the name, being very gluggable and refreshing. This is one of those beers where it looks like the brewer has done something silly but it absolutely worked. Take that, Reinheitsgebot.

The strongest beer of today's six is a whopping 4.9% ABV and it's another pale lager, called Happy Pils. The brewery has decided it's "new age", I guess because it uses Citra, Herkules and Hüll Melon rather than anything more traditional. It looks traditional -- clear and golden -- but it smells of candy and perfume rather than grass and wax. So it goes for the flavour also. The base is clean and nicely crisp, but the hop flavour on top is much more like you'd find in a pale ale of the Anglo-American variety. Parma Violets, lemon drops and lime cordial all presented themselves to my palate. The sweetness hangs about as well, not allowing the beer to finish cleanly. I can understand how a brewer in Germany wouldn't want to make just another pilsner like everyone else, but this isn't an upgrade. There's a stickiness, more from the flavour than the texture, which doesn't sit well. They may as well have brewed a pale ale and been done with it.

Sheer completism made me buy this last one: the non-alcoholic pale ale, Naked. Citra, Lemondrop and Mandarina Bavaria is a solid-looking hop lineup, and the beer looks well: a slightly hazy sunset orange with excellent head retention. A tangy orange aroma starts it off well and there's a pleasant interaction of malt sweetness with the fruity hops, creating a creamy ice-lolly effect: vanilla meeting satsuma. A rounded and fluffy texture really adds to the effect. A mild lemon bitterness helps balance proceedings. One wouldn't mistake it for a full-strength beer: it still has that aspirin tang often found in the non-alcoholic variety, but it's pleasant drinking overall and does well at hitting the spots pale ale needs to, being both flavoursome and refreshing. This was worth a go.

Despite a couple of highlights I consider this a poor show from BRLO, and I'm particularly disappointed with the Berliners' Berliners. Still they seem like a busy bunch so perhaps this lot isn't properly representative. Surely they have something actually sour in the repertoire?

25 December 2021

A frugal Christmas

Having spent several recent Christmases in England I found I had developed a bit of a hankering for the seasonal ales that are part of the picture there. Not that they're especially good, by and large, but isn't that the way with Christmas food and drink generally? If it was actually good you'd do it all year. It was a bit of a surprise, in the run-up to Christmas, to find that my local JD Wetherspoon had stuck a bunch of them on tap. So with the last of my shopping done, I dropped by Keavan's Port on my way home to try them out. With four beers to get through, I opted to order in pairs of half-pints, €1.50 a throw.

For round one, the golden chap on the left is Santastic from Maxim, a pale ale, which doesn't sound very festive, but there's a cartoon Santa on the pump clip so it must be. The clip also says it's zesty, and to an extent it is -- lemon peel definitely features. The zest factor is somewhat reduced, however, by it not being quite cellar temperature when I got it: warmth and zest don't mix. There's a dry and crunchy malt base and some sweet citrus candy suggesting orange and lemon chew sweets, before a harder pith-bitter finish. It's bigger and rounder than the 4.5% ABV might suggest and as such is perfectly suited to winter drinking. A traditional Christmas involves citrus fruit as well as cloves and cinnamon, you know.

I paired that with Exmas by Exmoor. Its muddy brown appearance immediately had me a little on edge. The stale biscuit aroma didn't help. This did taste like it had been spiced a bit, though according to the brewery's description it hasn't. What you get is quite a sweet affair, tasting to me like cinnamon cookies. This builds to an almost saccharine level quite quickly and the result isn't very pleasant: tangy and a little cloying. Although there's a certain bitterness that comes with that it still feels unbalanced. Some tannins or just a general drying-out of the residual sugars would help it, I think. I figured there would be at least one vaguely Christmassy dull brown bitter in the set and I hoped at this point that this would be it. Two more halfs please!

Going pale with dark again (can you tell I didn't trust the staff to tell me which is which?) it's Burton Bridge's Santi-Freeze on the left, another 4.5%-er, this time outright yellow. This one smelled drier, less fruity, and so it proved on tasting. There's quite a harsh waxy bitterness here, mixing with rubbery funk and some gastric unpleasantness. I can't even begin to guess what they were trying to create, but it didn't work. I mean, it still tastes fresh and lacks any typical technical off flavours; it just seems to be Not A Nice Beer. The flavours at least aren't strong, but when blandness is a beer's only saving grace, it's straight onto the naughty list as far as I'm concerned. 

OK, fingers crossed for something by an unfamiliar brewery: Milestone in Lincolnshire. This is Donner & Blitzed, a dark ale with a name which applies for a place in Pumpclip Parade. It's the strongest of the set at 5.4% ABV and looks lovely: a flawless garnet. Treacle and toffee is the aroma, and that's the base of the flavour, yet it's not heavy or sticky, turning out pleasingly light and drinkable. On top of the candy is a berry sharpness; raspberry and blueberry in jam form. This is matched with milk chocolate to create a Black Forest gateau effect which isn't especially Christmassy but is luxurious and utterly delicious.

Phew! I'm glad I had a happy note to finish out on. Wishing everyone who reads this a very Merry Christmas.


 

24 December 2021

Longford nights

It's a seasonal twofer from Wide Street today, and I'm a little surprised that neither of them utilise the brewery's signature mixed fermentation techniques. I do hope it's not the customers pushing them in this more mainstream direction.

Well, I say "mainstream" but neither of these are common styles these days. There's not even an IPA! Time-Lapse Autumn, third in the new series of seasonals, is an Altbier. Though it of course exists canned, I was lucky enough to get to drink a pint of it on a visit to Brickyard in Dundrum. A light 4.5% ABV, it's the proper shade of reddish brown. I haven't had an Alt in quite some time but I have it in my head that this lager should have a modicum of rounded warmth and caramel sweetness. This one doesn't really, and goes big instead on tannic dryness, with a touch of coffee roast as well. As a result, it's a little sharp and less easy-going than I was hoping for. There's a green-nettle hopping in the aroma but it's no Uerige clone as the hops don't really show up in the flavour. It meets the basic spec for Alt, I guess, but i wasn't really done to my taste. We move on to...

BLACK IPA! Woooop! Wide Street gives us Neo-Noir, hopefully not a radical new take on this already-perfected beer style. It's got oats. Are there supposed to be oats? It pours thickly, belying a modest 4.7% ABV, an opaque jet black topped with a thick layer of tan foam. The aroma is black IPA squared: roasty burnt tar meeting tangy green veg. Seems the sprouts are a little early this year. I was right about the thickness: there's a glutinous mouthfeel with minimal carbonation, but it gets away with it. Think cask. The bitterness headlines the flavour, and like the aroma it's a mix of roast and hop acidity. I hoped there would be something fun to follow -- some citrus or spice -- but it's a bit two-dimensional: a swift smack and then they're flashing the lights and it's time to go home. There's plenty of aftertaste, so if you enjoyed the roast and veg thing so far, that's in no rush to leave. I liked it; I like how it gives an impression of a big strong luxury beer but at a modest ABV; it needs more subtlety and complexity added to it, however. And with that constructive technical feedback, I'll wait for Neo-Neo-Noir.

I don't usually kvetch like this over Wide Street beers. Next time give me something sour to shut me up.

23 December 2021

Sorry I missed you

I missed out on the DOT Brew seasonal megapack, largely through logistical issues, so I'm afraid there won't be any pre-Christmas epic run-down of barrel-aged beers with long silly names. Instead, you'll have to make do with the DOTs I bought singly in November and December, to wit:

Bright Lights Big City is the latest in the Teeling Distillery giftshop exclusives, and it was surprisingly pleasing to be able to pick this up from the actual distillery giftshop instead of the reception where the beers have been sold for the last 18 months or so. These little returns to normality are so appreciated. It's an amber ale aged in single-grain whiskey casks which were previously used for Cabernet Sauvignon and is a clear garnet red. I expected the wine would make a sizeable contribution and sure enough it's there in the aroma: oak and raisins. The texture and flavour are both lower key than I'd expect for 5.9% ABV. It's light and fizzy in the mouth and there's no whiskey spirit to taste. Instead it's gently fruity -- cherry and red grape -- with just a mild sawdust dryness in the finish. It's fine but I think a bit more malt and hop heft should be taking the place of the barrel's shortcomings. This is not how DOT normally goes about its business.

The red theme continues in a different direction with 4yr Old Wild Raspberry, the first in what I understand will be a new range of wild beers from DOT. The label says it's light and crisp, though at €15 I'm hoping for something more committed than that. In the glass it's a deep blood red colour, while the aroma is mildly funky, with a concentrated raspberry syrup vibe rather than sharp berry. That thick sensation continues through the texture and flavour, with more than a hint of Ribena about it. I expected highly-attentuated spritz but it's not one of those and I'd put it more at the dessert end of the meal than an aperitif. This isn't what I was expecting, and I don't think it justifies the price tag. It's not funky or complex and show little signs of spendy barrel ageing. I'll let it go as the first of a new series, but if this is to continue there ought to be fireworks next time out. 

Dessert proper is a stout. Last Night was brewed as an exclusive for Molloys off licences and is a 10% ABV imperial milk stout with coffee, cocoa and ex-rum whiskey barrel ageing. Hella festive. It is extremely black and doesn't really bother with forming a head. There's much less aroma than I expected, just some mild coffee roast, and it's unforgivably thinly textured for the spec. Alas that problematic nature follows through into the flavour. There's a tangy, sweaty sourness hitting up against sweeter milk chocolate; a vinegar sharpness and a cardboard staleness. It does the bare minimum for a chocolate/coffee stout but something has gone wrong here.

Oof! Maybe I dodged a bullet by not buying that big box. Barrel ageing is a cruel and capricious mistress, I guess. The results here do not show it in a good light.

22 December 2021

The clone wars

Is it just me or are the Aldi knock-off beers getting more and more on-the-nose with their branding. I literally spent a few seconds boggling at Hofflegen when I first saw it on a shelf, so blantant the purloining of Hoegaarden's image.

I still bought a bottle of course. The label helpfully tells us this is brewed for Aldi by trustworthy Belgian giant Palm, although a brewery that doesn't have a headline witbier of its own in Belgium's bestsellers. It matches Hoegaarden's strength at 5% ABV, but not its colour, being quite a brackish-looking muddy ochre.

The aroma is much brighter, brimming with citrus sunshine and a fresh spice from crushed coriander seeds. The texture is smoother than these usually are, with less interrupting fizz: unorthodox, but I like it. It's very sweet on the palate to begin with, almost like a non-malt ginger beer, but a certain breadcrust crispness in the middle leaves no doubt that it's a wheat beer. Beyond that there's just the faint bathroom-cabinet scent of the herbs before a rapid fade-out leaving minimal aftertaste.

I know how badly-made witbier tastes, and this isn't one of them. Yes it avoids the harsh dry grain effect by overcompensating a little the other way, but as a cheap and unfussy refreshment beer, this is well worth keeping in stock.

21 December 2021

Calendar cans

It's an inadvertently-built collection of Hopfully beers today, two recent releases and one that had been sitting politely at the back of the fridge waiting to be opened.

So first off I owe apologies to the brewers that it's nearly Christmas and I'm only now getting around to their Halloween seasonal, Boo. It's a sour ale of 5.5% ABV with added raspberry, cherry, blackcurrant and lime. That sounds like it's really doubling, quadrupling, down on the sourness but there's lactose as well. In the glass it's a pale hazy pink and smells quite yoghurty: creamy with a strong forest fruit vibe. I thought I knew what to expect, so was astounded when the cherry proved to be the dominant feature of the flavour. The lactose adds a cakey sweetness which makes the whole thing taste a bit like a cherry bakewell, which I happen to love. There's the faintest of tartness, more to do with the lime than the sour culture. Overall, it's really good. I don't normally like these non-sour sour beers, but it turns out all you need to do is pile in the cherry to keep me happy.

A hazy IPA is next. Headlights is brewed with what ought to be two quite contrasting varieties of hops: soft Nelson Sauvin and sharp Citra. The yellow-emulsion appearance marks it as one of the classy ones. Its aroma is pithy rather than juicy: a fibrous jaffa orange effect. The flavour is almost smooth and juicy but there's a bump or two in there, an element of gritty roughness with savoury fried onion. I tried hard to ignore it but it kept interrupting the fun. The fun is fun, however. It's more the minerally side of Nelson than the grape, but that's still good, and then there's an acidity rather than a bitterness per se coming from the Citra, helping to balance the soft vanilla sweetness which comes with the style. They have so nearly nailed the New England thing here but something has gone very slightly awry with the hops, to my taste anyway.

Another seasonal beer finishes things, one with a rather more appropriate name for December. No clove or cinnamon here: Joy to the Box is an oatmeal imperial stout with chocolate, coconut and pineapple. Intriguing, but does it work? It's a bit of a murky boy, a muddy pale brown rather than proper black. The handsome tan-coloured head didn't last very long. The aroma, unsurprisingly, is pure Bounty: all the oily coconut against a rich and sweet chocolate background. 8.5% ABV plus oatmeal is a perfect recipe for smoothness, and it gets that bang on, slipping silkily across the palate, with just a polite prickle of carbonation keeping things lively. I was worried it might be hot or cloying but there's none of that. It's so smooth that the foretaste is pretty much missing, sliding past unnoticed. Only the finish and aftertaste are left to speak for the flavour, and while a lot of that is more Bounty -- you really need to like both chocolate and coconut in beers for this -- there's a piquancy too; not quite bitter but definitely acidic. It took me a moment to realise it's probably the pineapple. It doesn't taste like pineapple under everything else as I guess there's no room for a different kind of sweetness, but it prevents the whole picture from being purely two-dimensional. Despite the appearance, this is good clean fun; a very satisfying big midwinter stout where the bells and whistles are in excellent harmony. 

Hopfully continues to surprise. There's something different in all three of these, including the IPA. I look forward to having my expectations further confounded by these Brazilian cuckoos in 2022.

20 December 2021

Otter and colder

Dec's been busy. Despite the time required by mixed fermentation, barrel-ageing and whatnot, there's a bunch of new Otterbank beers for me to catch up with. Let's see how they've got on.

First though, it's the latest in Otterbank's Mates Rates series, brewed at Third Barrel, this time with the Falconers Flight hop blend. As usual it's a tart session IPA of 4.9% ABV, and misty blonde in colour. The aroma is vaguely citric but not very exciting. There's rather more excitement in the flavour, bringing one on a tour of new-world features, including lime peel, lemon sherbet, fried onion, dank resins and ripe mango. The effect is made all the clearer by the tightly tart base, a sourness that serves the hops, rather than being sour in its own right. It all works very well, nicely complex while still light and sessionable.

I think Sour for Sibling is the first Third-Barrel-brewed can outside of the Mates Rates series. It's a kettle-soured pale ale with added mango and passionfruit, so perhaps better suited to high summer than the depths of winter. I'm literally drinking it by the fire as I write this. The passionfruit is very apparent from the aroma, delivering a blast of pure and cool tropicality from the get-go. It's quite plain on tasting, with only a mild acidity and quite a low level of carbonation. It's 4.9% ABV again so is a little too heavy to get away with being a quaff-and-go thirst quencher. Still, there's a decent dose of passionfruit in the flavour, closer to the level of a juice drink than a beer. Overall, there's a certain echo of YellowBelly's revered Castaway from days gone by, but it lacks its depth and kick. Perhaps that's the difference between kettle souring and mixed fermentation. This is fine when you need a few drops of sunshine on a dismal day, just don't expect too much of an adventure from it.

Now we get to the real stuff: the bottled beers created at Otterbank HQ in Donegal using the full array of microbial weaponry at its disposal. First today it's a respectful tribute to gueze called Ode To Brussels. At 6.5% ABV it's on the strong side, though is surprisingly pale, with just a modicum of haze and a superbly resilient head of fine bubbles. Gunpowder spicing on the nose: check. Lemon zest meets old oak in the flavour: check. Waxy bitter finish: also check. This is a convincing analogue. I don't think I can ding it on accuracy; only on personal taste. It's a little too heavy and thick for my liking, with a kind of brown-sugar faro sweetness which interrupts the sour and spicy fun. I've definitely tasted real geuze like this but they're not my favourites. Still, full credit for the mimicry, and it's also a highly enjoyable and complex beer.

That's followed by Thanks, Julius & Lars, a tribute to Julius Simonaitis and Lars Marius Garshol for their work classifying Lithuanian farmhouse yeasts, one of which is of course used here. It's a whopping 8.1% ABV and pours a rose-gold colour with a bit of murk still floating in there, but mostly clean. Tastewise it's not a million miles from Flemish oud bruin. There's that slightly fruity vinegar effect, like good quality balsamic, with a dash of HP Sauce. The wax is back to give it a different sort of sharpness on the end. Like the aforementioned Belgian style, this isn't brimming with complexity or anything, but it's tasty as long as you have a substantial tolerance for sourness. It definitely leans towards being stomach-curdling but I think the high gravity means there's enough residual sugar to provide the necessary counterweight. I found myself sipping merrily through it, perhaps a little more speedily than I should have.

The Pioneer brings us into the double-figure imperial stout zone, aka my happy place. This is 11.9% ABV and aged in whiskey barrels with added Brettanomyces. It doesn't really smell of either, however, showing a red-wine aroma with a touch of cork. Normality resumes in the flavour: after an initial tart kick of berries and oak, there's a roasted coffee richness with a gentle alcoholic warmth. I suspect that the Brett's contribution is primarily in the texture: it's no sticky monster but has been thoroughly attenuated. While not thin by any means, it's lighter of body than most stouts this size. I also detected a modicum of mushroomy funk without it turning full barnyard. There's a lot to explore among the elements here, and it takes a bit of getting used to. A bigger, bolder flavour would improve it, but I guess the Brett had other plans. I'm not sure the wild yeast improves it.

The big gun comes out with Gimp Mask a 75cl monster of a Bushmills-aged imperial stout. No funky stuff is advertised, and it's not really sour, though there's something going on. To begin, it's a pretty straight-up hefty stout, full of coffee and cocoa. What surprised me about that is the barrel's contribution. Maybe I'm too used to unsubtle bourbon, but this one doesn't taste like whiskey has been near it. Instead there's that red wine effect again: raisin and Ribena, with a stickier pine resin background. I expected much sweeter and warmer this time, especially at 12.5% ABV, but this doesn't swing in that direction any more than The Pioneer does. There's a gentle sort of tartness, complicated with a little chocolate. It took me the full 75cl and about three hours to get the measure of this one: it's definitely built for slow consideration rather than a festival shot glass. Between the two of this last pair, prepare to have your preconceived notions of barrel-aged imperial stout at least wobbled a bit.

So this is what it looks like when Otterbank gets into its stride. The stouts didn't really do it for me, but the clean, pale sour offerings were adequate compensation.

17 December 2021

Play to winter

Kinnegar's Brewers at Play series reaching 20 coincided with the brewery's tenth anniversary so they celebrated by splitting it into two different lagers.

Brewers at Play 20÷2: Anniversary Pilsner
 was first out. It's 5% ABV and a bang-on medium clear gold. The bang-on-ness continues in the aroma and flavour. The former is mild and unobtrusive, with just a faint dry hay quality suggesting that noble hops are on their way. Said hops get properly delivered in the flavour: grass, spinach, celery, finishing dry and almost shading towards the unpleasant burnt-plastic effect I sometimes get from traditional German hops, but not here. The taste is buoyed up on a thickly textured weighty malt base which sacrifices the beer's crispness a little but does make it a more complex experience: no simple quaffing lager this. I enjoyed how it treads that line between easy lager and multifaceted sipping beer -- something the best German brewers do effortlessly but is unusual for Ireland. Mission accomplished, I guess.

Pilsner is easy but rauchbier is hard. I was intrigued and a little apprehensive about how they would fare with Brewers at Play 20÷2: Anniversary Rauchbier. It took me a while to find out because it's very foamy and I only have a wee Kinnegar glass. That did give me time to appreciate its deep chestnut colouring. The aroma suggests they've nailed it, all warm soft ham and bacon, with no harsh kippers. On tasting it has a lot of the signature Schlenkerla flavour, and the fact that I find myself trying to find points of difference is a testament to its quality. The smooth richness isn't quite there: it's a little sharp and thin, the carbonation interfering with the taste somewhat. And there's a very slightly harsh edge to the foretaste meaning it takes a moment for the smoke's more genteel side to kick in. But these are inconsequential details; they really have managed to recreate the classic Bamberg rauchbier experience in a very impressive way.

Life can't be all play, however. It looks like number 15 in the series has graduated to being a normal part of the range. Winterland is a new milk stout with vanilla, slightly beefed up from BaP 15, the ABV rising to 5.3% from 4.8%. Although it's sweet and creamy, it goes for coffee roast in a big way so ends up tasting like an Italian coffee-infused dessert: tiramisu or affogato, with a crisp wafer biscuit on the side. The gravity boost hasn't given it the full-on creaminess that I wanted from the previous iteration, but it's definitely an improvement. I particularly liked how the dessertish qualities are balanced by quite an intense roasted bitterness. With this one, they're definitely not playing any more.

Play resumed shortly afterwards with Brewers At Play 21: Barleywine. Just barleywine (or "barley wine" if the creeping Americanisation of European beer styles bothers you): no kooky ingredients or post-fermentation treatments, simply a hefty and warming 10% ABV. In the glass it looks comforting and thick, chocolate-brown, turning garnet when held to the light. It smells sweetly of fruitcake and cola, and the mouthfeel isn't as heavy as I had been expecting; though it's far from thin, there's a lightness of touch which really aids the drinkability. With an American name and an American at the helm, I thought we were in for some big Bigfootesque hopping, but that's kept on the downlow to allow the malt take centre stage. It's glacé cherries and strawberry jam in the middle, with a harder metallic bitterness in the finish. Its olde-worlde stylings might miff a few punters more used to the brasher barley wines, but I liked the understated quality here -- perfect calm winter sipping fare.

Keep 'em coming, Kinnegar! The games are only just beginning.

15 December 2021

By return post

Look who's back! I can't believe it was 2018 when Post Card last featured here.  The brand is owned by drinks industry veteran Jonathan Spielberg and was originally brewed at his Craftworks/Select Batch brewery. When that closed it disappeared, of course, but Jonathan is now involved in a new start-up brewery in Co. Kildare: Farringtons. With production under way, Post Card has cuckoo'd its way in. I spotted two of the cans on my last visit to Martin's of Fairview.

Ha'penny Bridge was one of the beers they brewed before but the recipe has changed so I'm giving it another go. Having previously been 5.2% ABV, this is now 4.4% and quite a deep amber colour, in a way that's far from fashionable these days. It looked a bit flat as it poured and the carbonation is very faint, the aroma suffering as a result. Still, there's plenty of flavour and it's a resolutely old-fashioned one: American pale ale in the Sierra Nevada mould. You get a jangling pine and grapefruit bitterness, spritzy at first, turning dank and resinous at the end. That sits on a base of crystal malt, from which comes occasional flashes of toffee. It's all good, solid fun, but the poor conditioning does let it down a little.

The next one is much more en vogue: Poolbeg Haze, a New England-style IPA with Mosaic, Citra and Idaho 7. First impression is... it's barely hazy at all. Still, it smells like a NEIPA: juicy and slightly unctuous. Again the carbonation is lower than it should be, but again the flavour manages to present itself well despite this. Satsuma, mango and pineapple suggest the hops are doing their jobs well, though the Citra is a little quieter than I'd expect. There's a certain vanilla sweetness, but not so much that it makes the beer cloying. And of course it's clean: no murk = no grit. This is quite an easy-going affair and doesn't taste the full 5.8% ABV. Still it has plenty of character and offers everything you might expect from a hazy IPA except, y'know, the haze.

There are more in the revamped Post Card range and I'll be keeping an eye out for them if they ever cross to my side of the Liffey. Carbonation issues aside, the revival is promising so far.

13 December 2021

Let there be lager

It's an all cold-fermented Irish session today. Nearly half of the offerings are from Galway Bay, a brewery which has been fairly churning out the lagers this past while. No complaints here. In time for Wies'n season they popped out Festbier, an Oktoberfestbier looking very much in the modern German style: 5.8% ABV and a rich golden colour. It's a while since I last had one of the six Munich archetypes, but this seemed pretty much on the money for a clone. It's richly full bodied with a matching golden syrup sweetness. The hop side is rather more pronounced than in the real McCoy, however: they're subtle; this goes big on peppery green noble hops. That's a little jarring at first, but you get used to it. There's a surprise in the finish when a weird almond/marzipan effect shows up. I wasn't expecting that, I don't think it's part of the spec, but I liked it. I think it's fair to say Galway Bay have put their own spin on Oktoberfestbier here, while staying true to the fundamentals. The result is a million times better than those awful sticky orange efforts from the Americans so, if nothing else, thanks for not giving us one of them.

I was excited to learn that the brewery followed up last autumn's Czech-style pale lager with a dark version, so here's Tmavý Ležák, brewed with the same attention to detail (decoction, Saaz) as the last one. It looks a little on the pale side to me, ruby-red rather than cola-brown. The aroma is toasty and wholesome and the texture full and satisfying, while still fully quaffable. 5% ABV seems to be the sweet spot for these. It's not hugely flavourful, but what's there is good: a gentle mix of caramel and liquorice with floral topnotes and Saaz's grassy rasp on the end. Most of all it's a comforting beer, one to take hearty mouthfuls of, not delicate sips. I hope to get to try a pub session on it at some point this winter as it's ideally suited.

Galway Bay moves away from the continental takes with the next one: NZ Pils: Motueka. It's paler and pilsier, 4.9% ABV and yellow with a very slight haze. I think of Motueka as a very herbal and bitter hop, with harsh medicinal characteristics, so I was surprised by the fresh lemon aroma, one which has a certain meringue-pie sweetness. The flavour pivots again, though staying on the dessert trolley, with overtones of coconut and oaty flapjack. There's spelt in it, which might have something to do with the unusual grain taste. It's fun, and possibly a little silly, and very far from a classic pils -- sweet, bitter, but not crisp. If the aim was to put the titular hop at the centre of the flavour then it worked. Fair play. Which Kiwi variety is next?

While we wait for that, let's head for the Back Lawn. This is a pale lager of indeterminate style from Ballykilcavan. Unfiltered and unfined, the label tells us, though after a month or two upright in my fridge it was perfectly clear and a rich Czech-like golden. The aroma is mild, but lagerish: grain, and maybe a hint of golden syrup, or maybe I'm just in a Czech frame of mind. For all that, the flavour is not complex. There's not much going on here -- balanced to the point of boring. There's a maybe a little white bread and a faint hint of grass, but otherwise it's not-sweet, not-dry and utterly sparkling clean. I guess it's an impressive achievement for a farmhouse microbrewery, but I think this 4.2% ABV job is really designed for tap-based quaffing rather than long-winded analysis from the likes of me. Let's move on.

Something more in my line from the same brewery follows: Clancy's Cans #7: Haunted Wood, a dunkel. It looks the part: a proper clear garnet colour with a generously thick Germanic head. The aroma is soft caramel with a hint of roast and a pinch of green noble hops. It all seemed in danger of being authentic but dull, but the flavour woke me up. There's a surprising bitterness up front, dry with a mixture of wax and cabbage leaf. That softens in the middle, as far as liquorice and well-done toast, before turning full-on metal and spinach in the end. This is quite nice, being flavourful and assertive, but it lacks the nuances of the real thing. I'm still pleased to see locally-brewed dunkel, though. More please!

Eight Degrees is rattling through its late-starting annual series of specials. Third up is Original Gravity Hoppy Lager. The ABVs start to pass beyond the mainstream here, with this one at 5.7%. It seemed a little thick as it poured too, though maybe that's more a function of the low temperature at which I served it. It's a nicely autumnal golden colour and very slightly hazy. Eight Degrees's founders cut their teeth at VLB in Berlin and use a brewkit built for German lagers so I expect this one to be done properly. It promises a blend of noble and new world hops though the aroma says neither to me, specifically. There's a floral and spicy character like you might find in an English golden ale, which was a surprise. The spice becomes citrus on tasting, grapefruit in particular, and there's a softer peach and cantaloupe juiciness behind this. Finding the noble side took a minute, but it's there in the finish: peppery rocket and dry hay. In keeping with proper lager, the flavours don't scream. It's subtle yet complex and far from bland. Crispness comes as standard, of course, and there's no aftertaste to speak of. I enjoyed its calm and classy cleanness keeping the promise of "Hoppy Lager" without falling into any of the usual India Pale Lager traps.

A bruiser to finish: Lupulos Borealis, a seasonal special from Rye River. They call it a "hoppy pils" but let's not get too hung up on style as it's a big 6% ABV. In the glass it looks like a typical India Pale Lager, being a bright golden with just a cheeky misting of hop haze. The aroma is all about those hops: grassy with tropical fruit, reflecting the use of Motueka and Strata, and seemingly in quantity. The contrast is even more intense on tasting: Motueka's bitter herbal/medicinal side is out in force, yet softened in the finish by juicy mango and mandarin. The body is quite slick and heavy, reflecting the strength, but there's just enough crispness to keep it refreshing and prevent it coming across as just another pale ale. There's a slight bum note in a savoury caraway dryness that spoils the party a little but I found that faded after the first couple of mouthfuls. Overall, it's a good time. IPLs usually trip up somewhere along the line but this one strikes an excellent balance. Maybe an unorthodox high strength is the path to success with these.

A renaissance of lager in craft brewing is a common overstatement -- there aren't that many in Ireland at least. These fit into a broader picture of style diversity which we've been seeing this year, along with all the IPAs. Continental brewers still have the edge, I think, but there's not much wrong with any of this lot.