Earth works

A big thanks to Tom of Land & Labour for shipping me some hard-to-find bottles of his wares, buckshee.

I opened with Cuvée L&L, a blend of two- and three-year-old... whatever terms you're allowed to use for lambic-ish beer brewed and fermented in Galway. It's 5.5% ABV and a deep orange. From the first sip it is sharp -- almost harshly acidic and sour. What saves it is a citrus sweetness in the middle: Seville orange and lime cordial. That takes the edge off before fading itself, leaving room for a dry mineral finish. By the second glass I had adapted to the intense initial sourness and was really enjoying it. It's missing the oaky spice of real gueuze, but otherwise hits the style points for a young and slightly fruity version bang on. The refreshment quotient is very high, and the first bottle wasn't long disappearing.

On to the second: Screaming Trees. This was originally created for the ABV Festival in 2017, in collaboration with White Frontier brewery in Switzerland. It's brewed with juniper needles and fermented with kveik for a full-on Nordic effect. A bit of back and forth with the brewer determined that the bottle I had been given was off -- corky, musty, and just not right. A few months later a replacement was sent, and that's what I'm reviewing here.

This is altogether smoother than the Cuvée, feeling more rounded and matured, even though it's slightly weaker in strength. There's a brisk fizz and a certain level of bricky nitre saltpetre spicing. I had to look for the juniper, and very much doubt I would have been able to identify it, but there's something herbal going on, a mint-sauce piquancy with a hint of eucalyptus. Overall it's quite an understated affair. It delivers the goods for a wild-fermented barrel-aged beer in the broad Payottenland style, but only a small amount of them. The plus side is that it's relaxing rather than busy, with the juniper complexity a modest added bonus. The beer is still a rarity, but I would be very happy to see it, or something like it, become an everyday, off-the-shelf session sort of sour ale.

The final part of the official trilogy is Lúnaberry, a foeder-fermented blueberry ale. To cut to the chase, it's a start to finish class act. The colour is gorgeous: a limpid scarlet, almost completely clear on the first pour from the large bottle. The aroma is a hyperloop trip to Brussels: a woody fruity funk exactly like you'd get from a high-end kriek or similar. My wife nodded vigorously when I opined that the glass in her hand smelled like being in the tasting room at Cantillon. It doesn't quite achieve that level of wild-fermentation complexity on the flavour, however. This is a clean sort of sourness, not severe at this early stage in its life, and with only a hint of Brettanomyces horseyness. The pay-off is more fruit than you'd get from a mature lambic. There's a realness to the blueberry side, the sort of tart sweetness you get when you bite down on a fresh ripe berry. It's gorgeous. While I'm intrigued as to what would happen when this ages, I'm fully prepared to believe it works best fresh. If you can get hold of any, that is. I feel very privileged to have received this bottle.

Bundled in with the second Screaming Trees was an unmarked bottle of Spon 2 Year Blend. This is where Land & Labour really gets into gear, being a take on geuze, Galway style. Like lambic it's spontaneously fermented, barrel-aged and blended, just like proper geuze. Beer like this takes serious skill to do as well as the Belgian establishments, but at the same time you have to start somewhere.

This one has an unsubtle spicy aroma, heavy on the saltpetre and sandalwood, hinting at quite an extreme sourness to come. But while yes, there's a big ol' smack of acidity from the first sip, it's not extreme or vinegary. There's a fun sherbet or pop-rocks tingle on the tongue, with notes of allspice and incense. I liked how light and spritzy the texture is: big-bodied beers in this style don't suit me, and while this is close to 6% ABV it's no chore to get through. Further mellowing would doubtless improve it, though I'd be perfectly happy if the production line kept rolling with a two-year-old product.

I'm sure I've said before that Land & Labour is the most promising beer-production operation on the island at the moment. Everything is done properly and nothing is rushed, and you can taste the benefit of that in every bottle (wonky ones excepted). The only catch is availability. I would love to see these as commodity beers available by the caseload, but I don't know if that's the plan.