I have a tendency to rag on Omnipollo a bit here. The Swedish contract brewer is a byword for the candy-polluted pseudo-stouts that are a plague on contemporary beer. Yet I've generally found their less, shall we say, ambitious recipes to be well-made and enjoyable. That's what I was hoping from this set which appeared in Dublin, reasonably priced, a few months ago.
The first is called Sacho, described on the can as a "dry crush raspberry sour". I expected a dense opaque pink job but it's a clear shade of polished copper in the glass. Raspberry seeds form the aroma, and the flavour is unsurprisingly raspberry-dominated. It's not excessive, however; not jammy or sickly, as these can sometimes be. It's all rather restrained: fizzy raspberryade backed by a very gentle citric-acid tartness. It's only 4.5% ABV so I guess is designed to be refreshing, and mission accomplished there. I think a little more of a sour kick would give it some extra character. As is, it's plain and inoffensive fare. Could have been worse, I thought, and moved on.
A pale ale is next, called Ripples. I liked the trippy label design. It's 5.5% ABV and a hazy yellow, smelling intensely of oily roast garlic and fried onions. A thick texture and a vanilla-laden foretaste told me it was one of those. Urgh. Along with the custardy sweetness there's a harsh and gritty bite of dregs. Only the faintest hint of tropical fruit -- mango and pineapple -- makes it through the unpleasantness. This is an almost textbook-perfect example of how not to make pale ale for me. End-to-end hot yuck. People who like this sort of thing are just weird.
Clarity is restored, to an extent, with Grandin. This is another pale ale, though 7% ABV and fermented with Champagne yeast. It's a mildly hazy yellowish green colour with a mix of soft fruit and peppery spice in the aroma. Promising. The taste expands on this, the fruit side going all melony with a pinch of lime bitterness and a twist of white pepper. There's a perfumed floral side too, bringing jasmine and cedarwood. It's an interesting combination, and like the sour one above, it's done subtly, not blasting the palate with busy flavours. The finish is dry, of course, but other than that it doesn't have much of a Champagne quality. As a pale ale, or dare I say brut IPA, it's jolly decent.
The quartet ends on a modest 7.5% ABV double IPA called Double Noises. We're back to the haze, although it's a deeper and richer colour than Ripples and smells much less offensive, all peach and mango sunshine. The alcohol is extremely well hidden, making for some dangerously easy drinking. The flavour is a delicious rum-punch of pineapple, white grape, nectarine and guava. For all that tropicality on display, it retains a pleasing dryness, a palate-cleansing rasp on the finish. This is more what I was hoping for from the set: balanced, flavourful and utterly charming.
Only one total fail here, then. That's not a bad hit rate for the brand. I wonder what are the chances of a sane stout out of them?
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