Sweet sunshine

Summer is about to commence, and that got me thinking of silly fruit concoctions in the sunshine, which then got me out and buying them. Here's what I found.

No idea why, but I don't have a review of Lindemans Kriek up here, though I've definitely had it on multiple occasions over the years. To rectify that: it's a sesh-friendly 3.5% ABV and a beautiful deep blood-red in the glass. Though inescapably sweet, it uses that to leverage a huge red-cherry flavour, full of real-tasting juice and a slight skin bitterness. The frangipane and almond of Bakewell tarts comes immediately to mind, perhaps only by association, but fun nonetheless. A gently cheek-pinching tartness in the finish is the only reminder that geuze is involved here somewhere. This is no frowny-faced connoisseur's beer but an absolute delight in the sunshine. The extreme sweetness of Boon's Kriek made me reticent to try it, but this is a very different proposition, and all the better for it.

Before lambic brewers started getting adventurous with their fruits, kriek's constant companion was raspberry. Lindemans Framboise doesn't have the same domineering and intense raspberry flavour found in most beers that feature it. Instead it's a more perfumed and candy-like affair, owing presumably to the other sweeteners that accompany it. There's still a tartness at the back which I'm assigning to the base beer, not completely smothered by the additions. The overall effect is like a Double Dip sherbet, which is fun. It is, I think, a little too thick as a warm-day refresher, and though the ABV is a barely-there 2.5%, I think the sweetness would get cloying after more than a couple. 

Lindemans Cassis I have definitely never tried before. The ABV returns to 3.5% here, suggesting it's a closer relative of the Kriek than the Framboise, which is good. Someone has thought about this. It's a beautiful beetroot-purple in the glass, with an electric-pink pillow of foam on top. The aroma has a little oaky spice and a dollop of crème de cassis liqueur. The latter comes through strongly in the flavour. I was expecting Ribena but it's much more a classy French aperitif. This tastes of sunny afternoons, especially on a sunny afternoon. Of course it's sweet, but not jarringly so, and that serves to carry the blackcurrant flavour. There's a certain tartness to the fruit too, accentuated by the beer which is presumably in a higher ratio to the syrup. It's lighter than the others, and more of a class act all round.

Completing this set is Lindemans Strawberry. In defiance of consumer law there's no ABV on the bottle but the Internet tells me this is an outlying 4.1%. A clear ruby colour, it smells of concentrated strawberry. There's a reason strawberry isn't one of the core fruit juices and always needs to be cut with something. Here they haven't really, and the result is very cloying. The concentrate tastes so concentrated that's there's a weird cheesy tang on the end that doesn't belong in any beer. There's no sign of any lambic in here. An extreme thickness doesn't help any of this and it was hard work to get through the whole bottle. This one offers the opposite of refreshment.

With the sun still shining, something more local to get the taste out. I still don't know what the base product of "honey refresher" Beekon Batches is, but there's an Elderflower & Lemon one now. It's rather pleasant too. The honey is still the main feature, with a very real-tasting beeswax tang and a certain floral perfume spice, which I'm guessing is the elderflower, not being as sweet as it normally is in drinks. And then the lemon really helps bring the refreshment, in a gin-and-bitter-lemon sort of way. Even though it's basically an alcopop, this is streets ahead of most of what's out there, and more interesting than the other two Beekons. I recommend drinking it very cold, and ice won't do it any harm as it's quite full bodied and decently strong at 5% ABV.

Finally, a return to Belgium for the postscript. Back in 2010 I reviewed Kasteel's Bacchus Kriek, then supplied in a fancy paper-wrapped bottle. Now it comes in cans, of course, and I thought I'd give another version a spin: Bacchus Frambozenbier. This is surprisingly dark in the glass, a serious brown with no trace of pinkness. It smells of ripe and squashy raspberries and is quite full-bodied, though not as syrupy as the kriek was. The modest 5% ABV may have had a hand in that. It's sweet, it's raspberry flavoured, and there's a certain roasted quality too, as though the base is some sort of brown ale or light dubbel. It certainly isn't built for sunshine the way the others are. It's fine, though, if not terribly exciting.

The Cassis from Lindeman's is my standout from this lot. If you're sceptical about the whole genre I recommend giving it a try next time the weather is up to it.

The quiet Americans

Californian veterans Firestone Walker have three beers for us today. 

Has the brewery stopped numbering its Luponic Distortion series? By my reckoning this one, released last November, is No. 17 in the sequence, but it doesn't say that on the can. As always, they're cagey about telling us which hop varieties they've used in this IPA, one created to show the hops off. They claim lime, blueberry and pomelo are what the drinker will find in the taste. I didn't. Well, lime maybe, but there's a soft citrus as well: mandarin or kumquat. It's clean and clear with that, and although 5.9% ABV is easy drinking. Exciting it isn't, and it's definitely not as complex as the brewery makes out, but it's refreshing and tasty. Can't fault that.

Two IPAs with west coast sensibilities in a row? That's the Firestone Walker way. The second is Double Jack, a stonking 9.5%-er. Look at that colour! It's a bright, almost lurid, Lucozade amber in the glass. The head on top doesn't last long. Warming sticky malt is the centre of the flavour, though clean -- not full-on hot. If anything it's at risk of being plain. After the golden-syrup foretaste there's a mild zesty marmalade kick and some heavier resins, but nothing more complex than that. Even allowing for the four months that had passed since the beer was canned, there's not much going on here. It would work as a nightcap or a cold-day warmer, but isn't really something that will require your whole attention.

A Chocolate Cherry Stout for dessert, though a modest one at 5.5% ABV. Maybe it's them cherries, but it's quite red in the glass, topped with a rocky head of beige foam which left a pleasing lacing. There's a light touch on the pastry here, relatively speaking. The first impression on tasting is classical roasted dryness and no more chocolate than you'd get from a rounded and sweet, but ungimmicked, stout. It needs to warm a little for the cherry to emerge, and then it's only at the back, a wisp of Bakewell tart or throat lozenge. I liked its unfussy quality. Perhaps it's because so many other breweries add lactose and/or vanilla to beers like this, and although ingredients aren't listed I would bet neither features among them. Balance and understatement of this sort are both welcome and overdue in the pastry stout world.

Nothing world-beating in this lot, but some good drinking. I'll be keeping an eye out for Luponic Distortion 18, which should be heading this way soon.

Wit is it?

Poor neglected witbier is today's subject. The style's problem, as I see it, is that the archetype Hoegaarden has perfected it and there isn't much room for improvement. I'll grant you St Bernardus may have managed it, but otherwise* it's not something worth brewing because you'll only get "not as good as Hoegaarden" as feedback. I don't think any other beer style suffers from quite the same issue.

Anyway, I'm giving two other Belgian examples a whirl, beginning with De Brabandere's Bavik Super Wit. The brewery has a raft of tied pubs in west Flanders, which is presumably why this exists, a Hoegaarden-matching 5% ABV. Immediate negative points were scored when it poured completely clear in the glass, looking identical to a pils. I gave the lees a good shake but no extra haze was forthcoming. They've nailed the soft wheaty texture but the distinctive witbier flavours are very muted. Coriander is no more than a mildly soapy twang, and I couldn't pick out the alleged orange zest at all. What remains is a dry grain effect, bringing us back to the similarity with pils. Nothing wrong with pils, but not what I was after. This is a very dull affair, and not even the glorious sunshine could save it for me.

I figured La Chouffe would make a better fist of things. For one, they've struck out on their own with a bold 6.5% ABV on Chouffe Blanche. That gnome has hollow legs. Again, it was initially clear in the glass but a swirl at the bottom of the bottle gave it some haze, as well as an oddly deep orange colour. Spices and herbs fill the aroma pleasingly, while citrus zest sits up front in the flavour. I was expecting it to be a little hot and heavy, but if anything it's thin, lacking that rich Belgian warmth. I guess when your flagship is 8% ABV you're really slumming it down here in the mid-sixes. It does bear a closer resemblance to La Chouffe Blond than Hoegaarden, though. A peppery spice suggests that La Chouffe's signature yeast is involved here somewhere. And maybe that's the key to breakout witbier: don't clone Hoegaarden; go somewhere else with it. This didn't deliver what I wanted from a wit, but I still really enjoyed it. I can see it being a nice trade-down for the dedicated La Chouffe drinker looking for something lighter but still packed with gnomeish character.

Conclusions? Err... still Hoegaarden for me please. Or Bernardus when I'm feeling fancy. The Chouffe does indicate that there's room for exploration here still, though.

*yes, yes, I hear you, Allagash White fanboys and fangirls.

Regular or premium?

It's four more from Mikkeller today, two from the mainstream side of the business plus a couple of fancier offerings.

Visions looks like an attempt to straddle both worlds, being a 4.5% ABV lager, very pale in colour, but with a misting of craft haze as well. The aroma, a vague grassiness, marks it as pretty plain fare, but it opens up on tasting. There's a bright and zesty lemon buzz which, coupled with a gentle carbonation, reminds me of brewpub lager from central Europe. It's quite a while since I last drank any of that, so the recollection was very pleasant. Proustian reflections aside, this is a very decent beer, offering excellent sunny-day refreshment. There's even a little extra complexity available if you look for it: some coconut, a pinch of chamomile and a brush of eucalyptus. Or you can just drink it. Thumbs-up from me either way.

Also pale and hazy is Burst, an IPA. Hazy, though not densely so. The aroma is all mango and passionfruit tropicals, and while that sorbet or ice-pop element is the basis of the flavour, there's a balancing bitter side as well. I get lime and grapefruit, with the merest trace of waxy, gritty dregs. A little bit of cleaning up would help it. It's also quite thin, in a way that a 5.5% ABV beer shouldn't be. There's a watery side to the finish which undoes some of the main flavour's good work. For me, this is fine, but a little lacklustre. Maybe it's harder to do hazy IPA for cheap at a level of quality that the style's aficionados will accept.

Challenge accepted, then: Hop Opera is a New England-style double IPA and produced in Denmark at To Øl rather than by the Belgian workhorses of De Proef, like the first two. It's 9% ABV and a dun orange colour. The aroma is strangely lacking: I got nothing at all from it. Even bad examples tend to at least smell like alcohol. The flavour is similarly muted. Here the alcohol does play a part, with a warm and smooth heat, the sort you'd find hidden in a fruity vodka cocktail. The fruit is quite a simple orange cordial. It's clean, at least, but there's a serious lack of complexity. When I'm paying €6 for a can, I want to have a strong opinion on what's inside; this is too plain and inoffensive for the money.

The next can was €7, though the beer inside only 5.5% ABV. I guess they knew there would be an eager market for a Game of Thrones Iron Anniversary IPA. "This better be good" I thought. It wasn't. Behind the hazy orange facade there's a pithy, Orangina aroma, which is fair enough, but the flavour is a nasty mix of raw onion, garlic paste and dry breadcrumbs. The texture is thin too, even allowing for the strength. There's a little friendly fluff from the haze proteins, but otherwise it's seriously savoury and appropriate for celebrating only the grimmest of TV shows.

Belgian lager beats Danish NEIPA. That's official.

IPArade

And so we reach the end of this sequence of posts in honour of Indie Beer Week 2021. I'm concluding with a cross-section of pale ales, IPAs and hoppy whatnot from across the independent brewing industry in these parts.

To begin, "just in time for summer", a new version of Black's The Session, this one with Pink Grapefruit. I was never much of a fan of the original 3.5%-er, and dilution with grapefruit to 3.4% ABV didn't immediately attract me. It's an improvement though. The aroma is its best feature: an assertive bitter lemon fizz effect. The base beer is very dry, but the acrdity is offset nicely by whatever sugary concentrate has been dumped in. Even with a minor hop twang, it's a bit cheeky of them to go calling it an IPA. But as something in the broad radler genre it works well: refreshing and very easy to quaff. Best enjoyed without too much analysis, I think.

Its sunny companion is a "Simcoe & Cascade Summer IPA" called St Tropez. Despite that, it has an aroma for all seasons: a sturdy whack of grapefruit and green veg. Perhaps it's the modest 4.8% ABV that qualifies it particularly for summer. It's no compromised lightweight, however, with plenty of body carrying a big and tongue-coating resinous bitterness: waxy at the front with a sage and rosemary oily complexity arriving late. There are some lighter, zesty, citrus notes beyond this -- west coast, old school, grown up: whatever terminology you want to put on it. The branding had me expecting some kind of tropical juicebomb but it is most definitely not that. It's very good though: bracing and refreshing, built for an Irish summer, not a Mediterranean one.

Wide Street brushes away the Brett for Time-Lapse session IPA, first in a new series of seasonals. It's pale and translucent in the glass and smells of mouthwatering tangerine and spicy bergamot. Amarillo and Galaxy are bringing that orangey effect while the random factor comes from Nelson Sauvin. The juicy mandarin and tangerine is the long and short of the flavour, buoyed up on plenty of malt substance. A dry and slightly funky complexity in the background could be the Nelson, or maybe something microbially interesting from somewhere else in the brewery. Regardless, the end result is gloriously refreshing and sinkable, with plenty of complex character. Here's hoping Time-Lapse 2 doesn't stray too far from this fine paradigm.

My previous IPA round-up featured Big Feelings from Galway Bay. It now has a baby brother: Little Feelings, a pale ale of 5% ABV, brewed with Strata and Mosaic. It's yellow and murky, which isn't ideal, but the aroma is strikingly beautiful: a heady mix of fizzy fruit chews and juicy sweet citrus, both in large quantity. These two sides polarise further on tasting, with creamy vanilla at one end and pithy lemon on the other. The latter's sharpness does a great job offsetting the fluffy texture, and thankfully there's no gritty interference from the suspended bits either. The whole thing is bold-flavoured yet easy drinking, and surprisingly clean and refreshing for a dense and hazy job. There's very little to object to here.

It's a series-within-a-series at Kinnegar: Brewers At Play No. 14 is the third one to be a Hazy Session IPA. An endless choice of hop varieties is the excuse on the can, though it doesn't say which ones were used here. It's one of those trubby beige numbers, though has a decent head and a fresh citrus aroma. The dreggyness is polite enough to wait for the flavour. It's dregs in spades, though: an almost smoky savoury quality, biting harshly at the front and sanding down the gullet on its way out. In between, the hop saturation brings garlic oil and the hard pine of a raw hop pellet. Amazingly, they've included lactose in the ingredients, and if it's really there it's not doing anything to soften the roughness. Anyone who can manage an actual session on this is made of sterner stuff than me. I appreciate that the brewery is learning about its recipes and processes with this series, and I'd like the lesson here to be "let's not do this again".

Also continuing a series, Lineman takes us back to Electric Avenue, #2 featuring Talus and Hallertau Blanc with the ABV coming down to 5.3% ABV. I guess this is why it's labelled as an "extra pale ale" rather than "IPA". Pfft, whatever. It's quite dense-looking in the glass, an opaque sunset-yellow shade topped with lots of foam. A fun mix of spice and citrus greets the nose, suggesting a beer that's bitter first and fruity later. And so it goes on tasting: there's quite an intense hit of citrus pith and rind from the outset of the taste. I've only had a handful of Talus beers so I can't go assigning flavours too freely, but the pith comes with a Sorachi-like coconut, and that's definitely not something I associate with Hallertau Blanc. The soft lusciousness in the late flavour, though: that is Hallertau Blanc for sure. The contrast is fun. I'm not sure if it counts as balance, since the pith is mostly in control, but it's a lovely combination anyway -- bright and summery, sweet yet clean, charming but assertive. I'd be quite happy if they stopped the experimenting here.

But of course they didn't. Electric Avenue #3 returns us to the classic 6% ABV IPA and utilises Simcoe, Citra and Mandarina Bavaria. Medium hazy in the glass, it smells quite harsh, a mix of cheap fruit-flavoured candy and melted plastic. The flavour is along the same lines but not as unpleasant. There's a major savoury component: fried onion, black pepper and crusty rye bread. This is all set on a cheery, fluffy New England texture, and it's quite dissonant how the juicy feel doesn't match with a juicy taste. The Germanic noble-hop origins of Mandarina are apparent here and totally wreckin me buzz. #3 is definitely no #2.

Beyond the Avenue, Lineman has also given us kiloHopz: 6.9% ABV, hazy again and hopped with Citra, Centennial, Ekuanot and Azacca which should bring an interesting mix of soft fruit and hard bitterness. The aroma is all the latter: pithy and a little rough seeming. It's quite heavy, though not fluffy in a New England style, and the alcohol brings a substantial heat. All that provides plenty of elbow room for the hops, and the bitterness again dominates the foretaste: waxy, with lime and pine. You have to wait for the tropical fruit, and wait a bit more, but right on the end there's a little burst of mango, passionfruit and Skittles. Nevertheless, this is mostly a very serious IPA: don't let the haze fool you.

There's more haze from Whiplash next. Binary is a dense-looking pale yellow one with Citra and BRU-1 hops. It smells nicely juicy, all mango and mandarin, with the flavour adding a soft scoop of vanilla to that. A slight hint of garlic arrives in the finish, but it comes as a pleasant contrast rather than an imposition. At 6.8% ABV it's a bruiser, but it's very light and easy drinking, completely free of the gritty fuzz that too often plagues hazy IPAs. I wasn't bowled over, but had a jolly nice time with this one. Proper fan service from Team Whiplash.

Two more 'lashes followed swiftly. The first is called Prisoner of Love and it's strange to see something this fiercely modern opaque yellow colour designated in an old-fashioned way as a "Cascade pale ale". Could they not find any cool hops? The aroma is quite rough, suggesting the grittiness of bad murk allied with Cascade's signature earthy quality. And then it's surprisingly sweet and clean on tasting. What's that about? Vanilla, lemon drops and satsuma pop on the tongue then fade quickly. It's quite a fun experience, easy going with just enough complexity. It had never occured to me that Cascade could work in a beer that isn't primarily bitter, but here it is, done well.

Something a little more involved rounds off the Whiplash trilogy. Station To Station is an IPA of 7.1% ABV, hopped with Simcoe and Galaxy. It's another very pale and murky one, but this smells of pungently ripe tropical fruit. Roll up roll up for the mowldy pineapple. The flavour is a fresher version, thankfully, but still based around pineapple, guava and even a little of that fun pink prickly pear taste. The finish is again quick, which is less acceptable in something of this strength, and there's a chalky twang on the fade-out which I didn't care for. Whiplash does this sort of thing better, normally. This is only OK and just has too many of the typical flaws of haze for my taste. Still, the alcohol is well hidden so down the hatch it went in short order.

I was extremely trepidatious approaching this final one from Western Herd. Although Flora and Fauna is a lovely innocent name, it's a "10 hop double IPA" of 9.45% ABV from the country's most hop-happy brewery, boasting the biggest hop load they've ever put into a single beer. Ooo-er. It's a pleasing west-coast gold in the glass, and perfectly clear. Despite double dry hopping, the aroma is mild and only slightly piney. The flavour is remarkably easy-going too. There's a sizeable dankness, followed by a floral spice, more of that pine and then a zesty lime and grapefruit finish. They've used all the hops and it actually tastes of all the hops, or at least the American varieties -- crisp, clean and undisturbed. The strength is entirely justified, providing a soft malt base as a jumping off point, and removing the risk of harshness. Though the style is out of fashion these days, this is a world-class effort and worthy of comparison with the west coast USA's finest. No fancy tricks or gimmicks, just lovely satisfying drinking. The batch sold out in short order but this is deserving of a rebrew, if not a permanent place in the line-up.

And that's it for Indie Beer Week. If you're doing one of the online events tonight or tomorrow, have fun. And if you're not, just remember to buy independent Irish beer whenever you see it. It's not all IPA, although an awful lot of it is IPA. Bye!

Non-stop hop drop

Time for another couple of rounds with the three-headed beast of Bluebell. A lot of IPAs this time. Tch. Typical.

Although first, Third Circle returns to its roots as an homage to Belgian brewing (ish) with Saison Me, a saison with a dry hop twist, namely Pacifica and El Dorado. The name suggests casual sunny-day drinking, so that's what I'm judging it by. The ABV mostly passes the test, at 5.2%. It's fairly densely hazy in the glass, and a deep orange colour. The aroma is somewhat soapy, in a sickly floral fabric-softener way, the saison spice not sitting well with the aroma hops. The texture is light and the carbonation gentle, which is fun, but the flavour suffers from the same problem as the aroma. Hooray for big, spicy, earthy Belgian saison notes; and also hooray for candy-sweet, lemonade-bitter, new-world hops. But together? Febreeze. It's not a drainpour but I definitely couldn't see myself quaffing this while relaxing in the sun. It's too loud and too busy. They should have done an IPA. Next!

Next they did indeed go back to IPA, and It Doesnt Matter, which is a kveik-fermented one with Citra and Amarillo. 6% ABV and only €2.75? Seems very fair to me. It's a happy shade of orange and quite full bodied, almost heading to cordial or syrup territory. It's not particularly sweet, however, coming through dry and savoury from the outset. That's unfortunate. After it there's a touch of saison-ish funk and a spritz of orange and lemon as the hops' first and last stand. There's a warmth from the alcohol which is quite pleasant, but the flavour really isn't for me here. This tastes a bit rough and unfinished, suggesting that kveik isn't the bulletproof shortcut it's sometimes made out to be.

We move on with Like A Boss, a Springsteen tribute from the dad-rockers behind Stone Barrel. It's an IPA of 6% ABV and hopped with Strata, still the hop of the moment, probably, a bit. Hazy orange is once again the colour, and the aroma is very straightforward: bright and juicy mandarin at first, with a buzz of garlic creeping in as it warms. I found both in the flavour. It's savoury at first: garlic and caraway in a way that doesn't usually suit me, but the zesty citrus is loud enough behind it to balance it, and the DDH New England fuzz gives it a vanilla softness and smoothness. I shouldn't like this. Vanilla? Caraway? Both red flags for good IPA, but it still works for me, being subtle, sufficiently fruity, and simply nice. Eventually I gave up trying to find fault and just drank it. You win this round, Stone Barrel.

They're not messing with the next one: Remember When west coast IPA. A burnished rose-gold colour, it's hopped with American classics Citra, Simcoe and Columbus. As you would hope and expect, the aroma is a one-two punch of grapefruit and lime and the flavour kicks off on a bitter bite of oily pine. The experience is gentler after that. 7% ABV means plenty of malt-driven body and the hopping softens to a perfumed floral effect; sweet, but not in the vanilla-and-juice way of IPAs from the lesser coasts. A twist of white pepper adds a bonus complexity. This style demands an exceptional level of cleanness and this example delivers on that, the resinous flavours lasting long into the finish but free of interference from anything else. There was a time when I would have found this harsh and unpleasant, but now I love the assertive bitterness and the preciseness of its citrus and pine. I guess that had to go away for a while in order for me to appreciate what I had. Like many an old-timey IPA drinker, I'm glad that it's making a comeback now.

Stepping aside from the house brands for a moment, the brewery has produced another 6%-er for Two Sides, marking One Year & Counting since Brickyard and The Headline changed their way of working. For all the grimness of that, it's a sunny orange colour and has a cheery sweet and juicy aroma, with a hint of bitterer citrus behind. There's an interesting contrast in the flavour: a creamy seam of vanilla and orange ice lolly and then a much harder resinous side, almost burning with dank oils and finishing dry. Citra and Amarillo is how that is done. The body is satisfyingly big, and the overall impression is of a beer very like Like A Boss above, with maybe a few bits and pieces rearranged. I'm fine with that.

As usual, a Third Barrel release is the daddy, this time a double IPA of 8.5% ABV called When Life Gives You Hops... Aussie hops Galaxy and Vic Secret headline in this, and I think it's Galaxy's orange-candy that's in charge of the aroma. I immediately went looking for Vic Secret's aniseed in the flavour. Nope: still oranges. It's quite a simple fellow, all considered. The texture is fairly light for the strength, and there's no hard booze or big hop punch. A gentle citrus sweetness up front turns to harder pith and peel in the finish, but it stays easy-drinking and clean. This too will please the old-school west-coast mob more than the haze-chasers, and that means it pleased me too. Nothing fancy or extreme, and definitely nothing silly. Gotta love those classy double IPAs.

Their round two offering is Mr Blue Sky, promising Nelson, Mosaic, Citra and Simcoe, at 7% ABV. I thought this one would be pale, but no, it's yet another orange one. No DDH fluffiness here: the aroma is an invigorating kick of aniseed and diesel, followed by a herbal intensity in the flavour, very much Nelson's minerality but minus the white-grape juice that usually softens the blow. I like the kick. The finish is quite quick, offering a brief buzz of dankness and lemon rind. There's a certain unfiltered roughness to the mouthfeel which I think would be better if polished more, though I also wouldn't want to risk filtering out those lovely hops. Overall, it's unusual but very tasty. We could all do with more Nelson in our lives.

Some fun has been has with hops here, and there's lots to learn if one is so inclined. My takeaway hop knowledge is: saison, no; west-coast, yes, east-coast, maybe. Rules to live by, I think you'll agree.

Haze pays

Sligo brewery Lough Gill is today's subject. They've quite busy of late with regular new additions in a variety of styles. Hazy IPA does tend to feature a lot, however, and I'm starting with three of them.

The monochrome cans they did for Aldi passed me by last year, selling out fast it seems. I was happy to be able to grab them this time around, though they were disappearing just as quickly. First is Rough Wave, described as a New England Session IPA and a mere 3.8% ABV. It looks like less: a scrawny pale yellow in the glass, watery and unattractive. The aroma of vanilla and spices is where it starts getting into my good books, and the flavour follows through with a pleasant citrus dessert: lemon tart or meringue pie. The downside is that it's very faint, tasting as though it has indeed been watered down. I'm not entirely sure that's a flaw, though. This delivers proper New England flavours in a light package at a discount supermarket price. Unlike many of this sort, you could happily drink several in a row and feel quenched. While it's completely free of off flavours, I would prefer a bit more of that fluffy east-coast body. There must be an audience out there for this sort, however.

Its twin is called On The Other Side, an "east coast IPA" at 4.6% ABV. It's quite a dark take on it, an ochre orange shade but properly opaque. There's a sweet jaffa flavour: all cordial and concentrate with a little sherbet zing. I don't know where that disappeared to on tasting because the flavour is very plain: what's there is quite savoury, led by a tang of fried onion. Then there's a little of that orange sherbet, with both fading indecently quickly leaving a dull wateriness behind. I don't remember exactly what I paid for it but it tastes cheap. I looked forward to something more premium to follow.

That came in the form of Haze Potato Chips. In the early days of the New England IPA craze there were rumours of trend-chasing breweries creating the effect with flour. Lough Gill, based on an original collaboration with Thin Man Brewery of Buffalo, wears its shortcut up front: the added haze-inducing potato starch gives the beer its name. For all that, it's a bit dull looking, a wan witbier yellow. It's hopped with classics Citra and Mosaic, and there's a lovely mix of lime and mango in the aroma. Citrus is in charge in the flavour, however: it's mostly a fresh and zesty lemon effect, bright and refreshing despite 6.4% ABV. Add to that some harder pine bitterness and a layer of oily dank. There's a slight savouriness too, which I might have put down to the potato were it not for the Mosaic which often brings this taste, unfortunately. Overall, it's only OK. I liked most of the flavour but felt there should be more of it. There was a much higher price tag on this than the Aldi pair, and I don't think it did enough to justify it.

The finisher is a pastry stout, a genre where Lough Gill has excellent form so I expected to be wowed. Specifically, Chocolate Ox is a "chocolate mudcake stout" of 9.2% ABV. They double down on the chocolate by using cocoa nibs and pure cocoa in cholaca form. It smells like a warm slice of rich chocolate fudge cake and is as thick as you might expect. That velvety density really helps the flavour. Chocolate of course, but not harsh or bitter, nor sweet and artificial. The complexity is almost vinous: the chocolate effect you sometimes get from big red wines, with hints of black cherry and tannin around the edges. The alcohol heat adds to the effect, bringing an impression of tawny port and coffee liqueur. Lactose features in the ingredients yet there's none of the simplistic vanilla flavour it often brings. In short, it's a masterpiece, and up with the best of the strong sweet stouts Lough Gill has produced over their four years of existence. I haven't seen it since I first bought it, but if they're auditioning for new core beers, this is a very worthy candidate.

Funny, when I first wrote about Lough Gill, I noted they did dark and malty beers much better than hop-forward ones. Looks like they're still in that space now.

The Hags of summer

Three new White Hag releases for you today, all on a broadly summerish theme.

The first is a Kölsch-a-like called Keltoi, brewed in collaboration with French brewer Mont Hardi. It's a style you don't see much of from local brewers; I guess it was a stepping stone before they had the equipment for proper lager. But it has its place, and a sunny afternoon al fresco is one of them. In the glass it's crystal clear yellow, topped with a rocky head of pure white foam. It's very perfumy tasting, a sweet and sharp burst of concentrated flower petals right from the start. This fades into a gentler cantaloupe and apricot after a moment or two, but it's still no crisp-and-easy quaffer. This beer demands your attention. It's big-bodied too, despite a mere 4.8% ABV. It's not often I find myself wishing for a beer to be plainer and less complex, but I would have preferred something that tastes closer to an actual Kölsch rather than the pale ale this really is.

2021's iteration of the Púca series of fruited mixed-fermentation ales brings Pineapple to the party. Can you believe this is the sixth one? It's clearer than any previous version for some reason: the pale gold of a sweet German wine. Pineapple ice lollies and soft drinks were a regular feature of my childhood, and the aroma from this brought all those memories back. I was expecting a sweet flavour to follow so was surprised at how intensely sour it is, a real face-puckerer, at least to begin. Once you're used to it, it's possible to appreciate the lemon and pineapple flavours bopping around in the background. I wouldn't have thought of that as a natural combination but it really works: the citrus is a second sort of tartness and then the pineapple balances it. An additional herbal complexity turned out to be coriander, which was another surprise, but a pleasing one. As usual this is a mere 3.5% ABV and I think that it might work well as a summer session beer, even despite the intensity and busyness.

Sticking with fruit but shifting to IPA we finish up at the Tangerine Shebeen, a collaboration with English brewer Round Corner. It's certainly tangerine-coloured, a bright and opaque orange. There's a decent amount of juice in the aroma too, sweet enough to shade into cordial territory. I feared it might be sticky, but it's quite light, befitting the 5.7% ABV. The flavour also keeps things easy-breezy. There's a fun citrus spice up front, the sort I associate most with grapefruit rind. Then an ice-lolly orange taste takes over, but only briefly. It finishes very quickly, adding to the soft-drink feel. Nothing in here is identifiable as hops, which is a little disappointing for an IPA, but at the same time it is superbly refreshing and highly enjoyable on those terms alone.

I'll leave the Kölsch aside, but otherwise The White Hag has done a great job of bringing the summer to my beer glass a few weeks early.

The Big Three

Today's post harks back to the early days of Irish microbrewing, when the producers felt that the path to success was to copy what the mainstream was doing. As a result, every beer that came out was either a pale lager, a red ale or a stout. Things are very different nowadays, but those three styles are still around, even if they're not produced at the same rate as the myriad variations on pale ale. I've picked a handful to see how things are at the old school.

We'll start at Dublin City Brewing. Well, sort of. Even though their cans have been claiming the beer is brewed at the new facility in Parnell Street, company representatives are regularly in the media explaining they brew under contract and their own brewery will be commissioned any day now. One or the other, lads. Anyway, Pioneer Pilsner is their first limited edition, designed to be a hoppy cut above their core Liberator lager. Its rich golden colour suggests to me that they're going for something Czech style, and the malt-driven flavour confirms it for me. This is no crisp and grassy number but a smooth and biscuity experience. There is a smattering of fruit esters on top of this, but it's not too disturbing and adds to the enjoyable chewy character of the beer. While it's not exactly how I like my pils, it's a hard one to fault, other than on that questionable provenance.

The OGs of Dublin microbrewing also have a new pilsner on the scene. Porterhouse Hammer is hard to come by: you'll find it on the brewery's web shop, and I got my can at their off licence in town, but otherwise it doesn't seem to be out there. "Just like a pilsner should be" is the bold promise on the can, and at 5% ABV they're not skimping on the alcohol. It's quite a dark shade of gold, heading almost for amber, with a generous topping of fine white foam. The aroma is biscuit malt, with a tangy and almost vinegary counterpoint. The carbonation is low, showing only the faintest tingle. That vinegar thing -- white, sharp -- is present in the foretaste. Might this be why the beer isn't more widely available? It doesn't totally ruin it -- to the rescue comes a grass and wax bitterness and a grain-husk dryness. It's inescapably tangy, though, in a way that pilsner should not be. Lager has never been a Porterhouse strong point, and this one may be in need of a do-over.

Hope has gone the Czech route more explicitly with Limited Edition 24: Bohemian Pilsener. There is a little haze to the gold here, and the hops get more of a look-in than in the above. The grassiness is intense, shading over into lemon rind and hard wax. It lingers long on the palate, almost oily in intensity. There's just enough malt weight to balance this -- it's a sufficient 5% ABV. And despite the strong contrasting flavours there's a clean finish so you're done with the experience pleasingly quickly. It's not as well integrated as the real Czech thing, going for bold and brash instead of smooth. This is very much a craft take on the style, but enjoyable nonetheless.

Can art of the year so far is this beauty from Western Herd on their Loop Head pilsner. The beer inside, 4.5% ABV and hopped with Perle and Saaz, is lightly hazed again and smells very herbal, beyond Saaz's damp grass and into sage or eucalyptus territory. Crispness is promised on the label and fully delivered: it's beautifully clean and nicely dry despite a slight spongecake vibe from the malt and a soft texture. The hops aren't overdone and the elements are very well integrated. Inspecting it closely I get hints of spiced red cabbage, fresh spinach and pine nuts. Really, though, it's a beer for quaffing -- perfect session material. "2021" beams the lighthouse on the can. This deserves to continue shining longer than that.

With Irish breweries clearly capable of great lagers, it's a shame it tends to be an occasional novelty rather than something they all have in the core ranges. I blame the drinking public, of course.

On to the reds then. There aren't anywhere near as many of these around as there used to be, and breweries don't seem to feel under any obligation to brew them. A ticker seeking exclusively Irish reds in Ireland would have a hard time of it.

We'll stay with Western Herd for the first one. Their original range included one called Fox Catcher, at 5.3% ABV. Its place has now been taken by Atlantic at a more normal Irish red strength of 4%. It's quite a dark example, verging on brown. The aroma has that beery quality particular to red ales and darker bitters: lots of tannin with metallic old-world hops and a faint sticky caramel sweetness. It's all quite subtle, so the flavour was a surprise: it's intensely bitter, and almost acrid. The zinc and tin hop character sparks on the tongue and continues to smolder late into the experience. There's a softer toffee side too, but I was half way through before my palate had adjusted enough to let me taste it. There are no technical flaws here; I'm certain it's as the brewer intended it, but it's far too much of a workout for me. Maybe I'm not a big enough fan of red ale to go dictating how it should taste, but for me it should be mellow and easy-going. This is the opposite of that.

Solas Red is brewed by Rye River for Tesco and comes with a €2 price tag on the half-litre bottle. You get a handsome glassful for that: a limpid garnet colour topped by a lasting off-white foam. The aroma is bitter and roasty, and very grown-up: definitely your granddad's sort of beer. It may as well be wearing slippers and smoking a pipe. I was all ready for a charming retro experience, but... the bitterness. It's gastricly sharp, tasting almost vomit-like to begin. On the fade-out that turns to harsh tangy metal, which is less unpleasant, perhaps, but still far from enjoyable. And then in the middle there's the intense sweetness of ersatz milk chocolate with some instant coffee and strawberry jam stirred in. It's like they assembled all the elements of good red ale, but used the cheapest and nastiest version of each. I was thoroughly sick of it by the half way point, but at least the lacing on the glass was pretty. This beer is much more fun to look at than to drink.

Neither of the reds did it for me. I have no reason to miss the style then, I guess.

Now stout I would miss. And stout is still plentiful among local breweries. What I'm looking at today is your classical Irish variety, built for session drinking with no fancy ingredients. Few brewers are turning new ones of these out.

The first is from The Porterhouse, and it's very specifically one with no fancy ingredients. Porterhouse Irish Stout is the Oyster Stout they've been brewing since 1996 only minus the molluscs. I've long loved the velvety chocolate effect of Oyster so was fascinated to see how that would hold up in the changed recipe. At 4.6% ABV it occupies the middle spot between their Plain and XXXX. The aroma is certainly chocolate, with some toffee sweetness added in. It's a long time since I last had bottled Oyster, but one would miss the smoothness of the draught nitro version. This carbonated one has a pointy quality that doesn't sit well with the flavours. The milk chocolate is definitely there, though, with a minty herbal tang and a layer of hard toffee. Given a moment to warm up and flatten out it's even creamy, like the original. While there's nothing fancy going on, it's a well-made session stout and all the better for the presentation in a 500ml bottle. If the thought of oysters had been putting you off before, I strongly recommend getting hold of this.

It's back to dodgy provenance again for the last one. I am unconvinced that Sullivan's brews Black Marble on its pilot kit in Kilkenny, rather than above at Dundalk Bay where most of their production happens, though I'm happy to be corrected on that. At 5.1% ABV it's substantial, so I was expecting to enjoy it. It's a pleasingly dense black with a firm head the colour of old ivory. Bitterness, both roasted and herbal, forms the aroma, and on tasting too, it's bitter. You can add coffee to the mix, and a little of a lactic sour tang of the sort found in Guinness. It's very old-fashioned tasting, eschewing chocolate and latte and everything else sweet and cuddly, going instead for boiled veg, old tweed, liquorice and ready-rubbed. The finish is long and pinches the tongue cheekily with its acidity. Creamy this ain't, but it works. Though perhaps not as bitter as the likes of Porterhouse's XXXX, it's on that continuum. By the looks of things this is mostly intended as a draught beer and I hope I can find a tap once normality resumes. A large bottle from the cooler was great, but a pint would be sublime.

There was no nostalgia for me at the end of this set. Good pilsner and solid stout will always have their place, but nothing beats variety. I'm very glad I have the opportunity to leave and come back to drinking beers like this. Now, what IPAs do you have?

Wild new directions

They've been riffing on some familiar themes down at Wicklow Wolf, with a couple of radically different variants on pre-existing beers.

I guess there was a certain inevitability about an IPA named Call of Juicy being followed up with a black IPA named Call of Juicy: Black Hops. And here it is, number 18 in the Wicklow Wolf Endangered Species series. Like many a black IPA it's more a deep coffee brown colour than actual black. The aroma offers a lovely bang of citrus peel and green vegetables: exactly what I want from the style. The New England roots show quite considerably in its flavour, which is unusual. It's sweet, with a mix of vanilla and orange ice-pops, lacking the tarry bitterness I like in west-coast black IPAs and which is promised by the aroma. Rather than a serious palate-puncher, this is fun, and maybe even a little silly. I found it juicier, cleaner and overall much more enjoyable than its pale predecessor, even if it didn't deliver what I was after.

The brewery's Locavore series has moved to the next stage in its evolution. Originally, this existed to showcase the produce of their hop farm in the Wicklow mountains. Now they've gone mixed-fermentation, harvesting yeast from up there as well. The plan is to have four releases per year, and Locavore Spring 2021 is a barrel-aged Brett amber ale of 9.5% ABV.

The pour was completely flat, suggesting the yeast hasn't been too busy in there. It's a dense dark brown colour rather than amber and smells deliciously funky in a pure Brett way, with added boozy raisins and damsons. The fruit gets a coating of chocolate in the flavour, and you can be doubly sure Brettanomyces was involved as there's a lot of funky farmyard here. I also picked up a big dose of dry tannin, reminiscent of Italian red wine, so was pleased to read that Chianti barrels were what they used. It shows. The syrupy flatness is off-putting, however. This would be improved with some sparkle but there's absolutely none of it. Instead, it's a dense and vinous affair, built for wintery sipping. While I liked everything going on -- funky, fruity and highly complex -- I think it needs more body and better condition. As the brewery's first foray into this kind of thing, it's very promising, however. Roll on summer and the next twist in the Locavore story.

Two more new ones landed shortly afterwards, including the core addition Raindrop. It's a bright pink sour ale of 4.2% ABV with the tried and trusted combination of raspberry, blackberry and blueberry. Does that make it taste like a fruit-of-the-forest yoghurt, like all of these do? Only a little. It's lightly textured and quite subtly flavoured. Blackberry is the most pronounced of the three, with raspberry in the back seat and the blueberry barely detectable. All of it is on the down-low, however, and so is the sour element: crisp and tangy rather than sharply tart. It's a little watery in the finish, but not unpleasantly so. The lightness combined with gentle carbonation makes it refreshing and very easy drinking. Beers like this are often quite jammy and a chore to get through; this one keeps things accessible and fun, and is all the better for it.

Mango and peach are next for the sour treatment in Takes Two To Mango, a collaboration with Otterbank. It's a mostly clear golden colour in the glass and smells dry and crisp at first, with an emerging fruit candy sweetness as it warms. Again the flavour is subtle. I get soft and fresh peach but not so much of the mango, and it's even less sour than Raindrop, with a very mild, slightly saline, tang about the height of it. Although the ABV is up to 5% it's still light and refreshing. The label says it's designed for summer and I can see that completely. While it's very gulpable, I would have liked the flavour turned up a bit more, especially the sourness. I'm a big boy, I can handle it.

There's lots of creativity in evidence down at the Wolf's lair. They certainly can't be accused of cranking out samey IPAs one after the other.